Ten Years Ago, The Black Night

The demon wasn't supposed to kill Queen Mariessa.

The night skies were crying with the first hints of a storm, thunder booming and lightning flashing the murky clouds with a bright blue tinge. Hellfire traced the rolling hills opening to a rural field, where a long-abandoned house was erected. Black flames licked the crumbling structures of wood that cracked and collapsed. Staring at the fire, a man stood trembling a distance away.

The boy who had sobbed in the abandoned Caedari twelve years ago was now a man of twenty-eight, a man who had lost everything and vowed to exact revenge. But his plan had backfired. That damn demon had killed the queen instead of the prince—had stolen his Mariessa from Kartas.

And he saw what the demon did, saw how Mariessa shielded her son as it sunk its claws into her. A piercing scream ripped from the man's throat as he recalled the utter fear in Mariessa's hazel eyes. Those beautiful eyes. They were gone. Forever.

Light blazed in his palms and molded around his fingers to create claws. He was going to kill that damned beast—purge the world of it.

The hellfire's trail ended at the abandoned house, and the man was determined to scour every nook and cranny until the demon's entrails littered the ground. After each step, the heat radiating from the house grew denser, but he was undeterred, blinded by wrath and resentment.

Wood popped, and sparks bounced on the charred grass, bringing rise to small flames that were extinguished when the man's boots stomped on them. He was so close he could make out the faintest outlines of two humans: a young girl and a merchant.

The girl was cowering beneath the merchant engulfed in hellfire, scooting away and kicking to gain distance. The moment the man noticed the merchant was the origin of the hellfire, he extended his light-claws, raced towards the action, and pounced on the merchant. He immediately buried his claws in the merchant's chest, again and again, shredding the skin into nothing.

When the hellfire diminished, the man ceased his assault, deeming the deed finished. But before the merchant died, a flurry of miasma escaped his mouth and shot itself into the girl. Incensed, the man watched as the coward of a demon found refuge in a child no older than ten. Disgusting.

Once the girl fainted, the man raised his hand to end her misery, but when he had a good look at her face, his heart seized. Thunder roared as he fell onto his knees, his light claws cracking and disintegrating into sparkling dust. The Gods had forsaken him many years ago when his rightful legacy was passed to his undeserving brother. And now, the Gods returned with more mockery.

As he studied the girl's face that resembled Mariessa's, he punched the scorched grass and screamed at the sky, "Why!?"

Blood leaked from his scarred knuckles, and thunder rumbled in response. The man couldn't kill the girl—Mariessa—not twice. Not on the same day. Clutching his heart, he gasped as tears crawled down his cheeks. He couldn't execute his revenge or retribution correctly. What a fool.

As tears dripped to the ground, the man scraped his nails through the dirt, a new sense of resolve digging its way into his heart. No, he would deliver. He would obtain what he desired whether a hurricane or a war blocked his way.

Staggering to his feet, he glanced at the merchant. Tapping into his implanted soul element, he found two elemental stones. One was near the heart, the other under the stomach. He reached for those glowing colors and dug his fingers into the merchant's open chest, forcing the elemental stones out.

One stone glowed green, while the other glowed purple—time and space. What a shame. The merchant was a powerful elemental, but he was now at Lexitem's mercy.

Pocketing the stones, the man turned to the girl—to the embodiment of his failures—and glowered. She was a mere human without any elements, but the demon still lived inside her. The man could use that to his advantage. Ignoring the hatred burning his heart, he lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the dead merchant and the burning house.

There was still hope. A multitude of novel plans dashed through his head, and even though he had to revise his original idea, he accepted his fate. He had access to the catacombs stretching beneath the earth, and using that to his advantage, he would cultivate his own empire beneath the mighty kingdom. And from the shadows, he would set fire to the very bane of his existence and watch it burn.

He was going to watch Lux burn.