A Forgotten Face

I lingered in the tent, taking several deep, shaky breaths. The Lord of Ash was an incredibly powerful being. If my visions were to be believed, he stood on par with monsters like Soltair and Luke, perhaps even surpassing them. He had spared my life in Brithlite, and for my sake, R'lissea and Elise as well. But why?

My tail nervously swished across the hard-packed earth floor. It didn't make sense. My soul was a prize beyond measure, a temptation even demon lords would find hard to resist. Even if the Lord of Ash were already at the eighth level—unable to ascend to ninth while on Enusia—surely he would crave my power for himself. All demons were driven by such hunger, weren't they?