The night deepened, stars flickering faintly above the dark silhouette of Duskspire Castle. Elara lay awake in her chamber, the books from Arkanis still untouched on the table beside her. Her thoughts swirled like a storm—conflicting emotions battling for dominance.
The image of the Demon Lord standing against rogue demons, protecting her, replayed in her mind again and again. Could it really be possible that he wasn't the monster she'd always believed him to be?
The flickering light of a single candle danced on the stone walls, chasing shadows across the room. Elara pushed the covers aside and stood, her sword close at hand. If she wasn't going to sleep, she'd at least use the time to learn more about this strange place—and its equally strange master.
She slipped quietly through the castle's winding halls, her boots muffled against the cold stone floor. The air was eerily still, save for the occasional creak of wood or the distant hum of energy. The place felt alive in its own way, as though it was watching her every move.
Elara paused at a door that was slightly ajar. Inside, she caught glimpses of golden light and soft whispers. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she nudged the door open to peek inside.
The sight that greeted her was both unexpected and unsettling.
Arkanis stood in the center of the room, his back to her. Surrounding him were magical sigils glowing faintly on the floor, their intricate patterns pulsating like a heartbeat. He seemed deep in thought, his hand hovering over one of the symbols.
"Master?" came the voice of Zyre, the demon servant she'd met earlier. Elara flinched, instinctively shrinking back into the shadows.
Arkanis turned slightly, his expression unreadable. "It's not enough. Even with the energy I've gathered, it won't last."
Zyre frowned, his sharp features twisted with concern. "Perhaps it's time to reconsider your path, my lord. The council grows suspicious, and you can't keep draining yourself like this."
"I don't care about the council," Arkanis snapped, his voice suddenly filled with frustration. The glow of his golden eyes intensified before dimming again. "I'm not like them, Zyre. I can't do what they do—I won't."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. The words confirmed what she'd suspected: Arkanis wasn't just different—he was fighting against his own kind. But why? And how long could he keep it up before it destroyed him?
The conversation ended abruptly as Arkanis turned toward the door. Elara stepped back, hoping he wouldn't notice her presence, but her boot scraped against the stone floor—a faint sound, but enough to catch his attention.
"Hero," Arkanis said, his tone calm but edged with curiosity. "Eavesdropping, are we?"
Elara stiffened, stepping fully into the room. Her sword was in her hand before she even thought about drawing it. "I wasn't eavesdropping," she lied. "I was—exploring."
Arkanis smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And what did you find?"
"I found a Demon Lord who seems awfully concerned about...something," she said, her voice challenging. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?"
Arkanis studied her for a moment, his gaze piercing but not unkind. "What's going on, Hero, is none of your concern."
Elara stepped forward, her grip tightening on her sword. "You saved me from those rogue demons. You brought me here instead of fighting me. You gave me books on human philosophy. And now I hear you arguing with your servant about 'paths' and 'energy.' You can't expect me to ignore all of that."
Zyre shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two of them, but said nothing.
Arkanis sighed deeply, rubbing his temple as though weary of the entire situation. "You want answers," he said. "Fine. But I warn you, Hero—sometimes, the truth is harder to accept than the lie."