Alisax

I miss Eravon.

Every time I fainted in Blood Valley while battling the daemons, he would be there, in a place created from my mind and his power.

The snacks he conjured in that world, although imaginary and never filled my stomach were among the most delicious things I've ever eaten.

The conversations we had and the training I underwent under his tutelage were just wonderful, especially his lessons on ardor control and codes. They were the major reason I was still alive in the Shield.

Damn. I surely miss him.

Eravon's world was much better than the horrifying nightmare I am having right now.

I found myself in the middle of an endless horde of those monstrous hounds, my body being torn to shreds by their horrible claws and teeth. 

Every time they ripped me apart, my flesh regenerated, only to be savaged again.

My skin, muscles, bones—each piece coming together in agonizing detail, just to be ripped apart once more. 

The cycle was endless and cruel. My blood hung heavy in the air. 

It was suffocating.

As I lay there being a chew toy for these ugly mutts, something caught my eye in the distance.

It was a humanoid form, composed of black roots, its bald, smooth head completely faceless—until that disgustingly familiar smile formed on the black canvas of its featureless face.

Recognition hit me like a hammer through the haze of claws, teeth, and blood

An old and intense rage flared inside of me as I glared at the rooty son of a bitch with eyes filled with absolute loathing.

"ASPHODEL!" I roared, pushing myself off the swarming hounds, my flesh tearing apart as I dragged their snapping jaws away from me. 

Blood poured from my wounds, but I didn't care—my entire being was locked onto the grinning figure of the Abnormal.

"I hope you are enjoying the hospitality of my homeland, little prince," its deep, distorted voice taunted me.

I surged forward, ignoring the tearing claws of the hounds that sank into my skin.

My vision filled with that hideous grin—until one of the hounds clamped its jaws onto my leg and yanked me down

My body crashed into the sea of hounds, their weight dragging me under as Asphodel's twisted grin loomed, growing larger as I was swallowed by the nightmare.

One of the hounds lunged at me and its teeth filled my vision—

I snapped awake, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. My vision was blurred, fogged over by panic. 

I blinked several times, shaking the last remnants of that nightmare from my mind.

Slowly, my surroundings became clearer.

I was leaning against a crumbling wall, blackened with age. A ruin, vast and grand once upon a time, now nothing more than broken stones and charred remnants. 

By the size of it, this place might have once been a mansion.

Something soft brushed against my skin—a blanket, dark and tattered, but surprisingly clean, wrapped around my naked body.

Wait… I'm naked?

I looked down, and sure enough, the only thing on me was my Deathwalker bracelet, still strapped around my wrist. 

Beneath the blanket? Nothing.

I stood up, the blanket falling away, confusion creeping into my mind.

Okay. This is weird.

I was getting swarmed by those damned hounds, and now I'm naked in some blackened ruin, wrapped up in a cozy blanket.

Who the hell brought me here?

Examining my body, I realized I was not feeling any pain and there were no marks left by the hounds on my body.

I barely took a step forward when a voice, low and distorted, drifted from the shadows.

"I see you're awake."

Instantly, my sword was in my hand, the bright green edge almost glowing against the blade's white metal. The blanket fell to the ground as I spun to face the voice.

It was female but distorted and eerily similar to what I heard in my nightmare.

"You," I snarled, my grip tightening around my sword as I glared at the figure emerging from the shadows.

It was unlike any daemon I had seen, including Asphodel.

The darkness trailing off it is less compared to other daemons, giving me a clearer view of her tall, feminine figure.

Its body was clad in jagged black armor that seemed to be made from the very darkness that shaped her form, but it wasn't the armor that caught my attention.

A hood of billowing darkness that seemed to devour the light adorned its head, and beneath it, instead of a face, there was only an endless void. 

But within the gaps of its armor, a faint white glow pulsed.

It was as if a being of light was encased in an armor of pure darkness.

My whole body screamed for me to kill the daemon, to tear the creature apart before it could speak another word. 

And yet… a small, insidious whisper in the back of my mind faltered my resolve.

That light. Something about it didn't feel like the other daemons.

I hesitated.

My instincts and experience as a Deathwalker screamed at me to plunge my blade into its heart, but I held them at bay. 

Something nagged at me—like a memory I couldn't quite shake. I had seen a similar shadowy figure while being swarmed by Abyss hounds in the Black Forest. 

Could it have been this daemon?

If the daemon had wanted me dead, it would've left me with the hounds. It had a chance, and yet here I was.

So I didn't attack. Not yet.

"What kind of daemon are you?" I asked, my sword still aimed directly at its heart. My muscles tensed, ready to act.

The creature's jagged hands twitched, moving quickly. My blade was halfway to its throat before I realized it had raised them in submission.

"My name is Alisax, and I wish you no harm, Mordred Pendragon," it spoke in that same distorted female voice.

The sound of my name from a daemon's mouth sent a cold shiver down my spine.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, tightening my grip around the sword hilt. 

Not even Asphodel had called me by name, preferring its condescending 'little prince.'

The daemon didn't appear to have eyes, but I could feel its gaze—heavy and unblinking from the darkness within its hood.

"I looked into your mind."

In a flash, I had the daemon pinned beneath me, the green edge of my blade pressing against its neck, my breath ragged with fury. 

My voice was low, barely restrained.

"I don't recall giving you permission to peek inside my head."

However, the daemon was calm, its jagged limbs splayed on the ground in submission.

"It was the only way I could convey my thoughts to you. The human language has evolved significantly over the millennia. To understand it, I needed to access your mind. Seeing your memories… was an unavoidable consequence."

Its voice, still distorted, now echoed within my head. Despite my anger, the daemon's tone was…

Regretful?

"I simply did not want any misunderstandings, especially considering the animosity your kind harbors toward mine."

"That's an understatement," I replied coldly. "We're not exactly best friends."

"So I've heard," it murmured, raising its clawed hands again, open in surrender. "That's why I beg you—please don't raise your sword against me. I truly mean you no harm."

I hesitated, my eyes narrowing as I stared into the darkness beyond the daemon's hood. 

The tension hummed in the air before I finally stepped back and withdrew my sword, slipping it back into the bracelet.

"Very well," I muttered, still keeping my guard up.

The daemon sat up, bowing its head slightly in what seemed like gratitude. "Thank you, Your Highness."

I frowned. "Just call me Mordred."

"Very well… Mordred."

She rose, standing at about six feet tall, her form imposing yet oddly graceful.

"Let me properly introduce myself. I am Alisax, the Ranger Commander under—"

"Where are my clothes?" I cut her off, eyebrow raised.

Alisax seemed momentarily taken aback. "Your vestments were heavily damaged. So I took them off and mended them."

Reaching behind her, she revealed my Deathwalker uniform, fully mended and looking quite brand new.

"I heard humans find it uncomfortable to be without their vestments," she remarked, handing me the clothes.

"You're correct," I said as I slipped them on. A sudden image of Iris flashed in my mind, and a sad smile tugged at my lips. "Although, I know a few who feel the opposite."

Alisax tilted her head slightly, her gaze—if she had one—seeming to study me.

"Is that so? Humans are odd creatures."

"Don't get too comfortable with me. I haven't fully trusted you yet," I warned.

"As you should not," she replied quietly. "My kind has spilled unimaginable amounts of human blood. We do not have to be friends."

Something in her voice shifted, almost as if she wanted it to be different. 

But no, she was a daemon. I couldn't forget the horrors her kind inflicted on us in Blood Valley.

Fully clothed, I turned back to her, eyeing her curiously. "What were you saying before?"

"Will you interrupt me again?" she asked, her tone sharp.

I raised my only hand in mock surrender, chuckling. "Sorry about that. I was feeling a bit… exposed."

Alisax let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. "Very well. I am the Ranger Commander under Her Majesty, the Queen of the Lumini."

My brow furrowed. "The Lumini? Is that what you daemons call yourselves?"

"No," she replied. "It's what we used to call ourselves. A long time ago."

Something in her distorted voice carried an air of sadness.

I narrowed my eyes. "Used to? And this queen—she's the one controlling the daemons?"

"No," Alisax said, her voice turning darker, more dangerous. "The one controlling the daemons is not the Luminus Queen."

Her voice lowered, filled with unmistakable hatred. "It's the Daemon Queen. A traitor who betrayed my master and took the throne."

"Interesting," I muttered, noting the venom in her tone. "The Luminus Queen must've been quite someone."

"She was," Alisax said reverently. "Revered by all, not just the Lumini, but humans and other races alike."

I blinked in surprise. "Humans?"

"Yes. Even humans," Alisax's eyeless gaze seemed to pierce into me.

"After all… she is the Incarnus of Lux."