Kaerith
Everyone seems to have an opinion these days — not just about how I live, but where I go.
"You're leaving again?!" That annoying, sharp voice slices through the walls two chambers away. Mazikeen. Again.
Every single day I'm forced to retreat into the sweet sanctuary of my own mind, where I dismantle her — limb by limb, socket by socket — to the rhythm of her own screams. Over and over.
But then I wake up, and it's just not… real.
"What is it this time, Mazikeen? Come to check on me? Bring me dessert? Perhaps the imaginary veil of your virginity? Do tell."
"I–I…" she stammers.
"Don't tell me it's a gift?"
She bows her head. Bingo.
"And what is it this time? A human to quench my thirst for blood?"
"…"
"Get out of my room, Mazikeen. You've succeeded in wasting both our time — not like you have anything useful to occupy yours. OUT."
I suffer greatly.
It's a special kind of torment, how those beneath you somehow make their existence your punishment.
The Dungeons....
Now, this is where I thrive.
The air thickens when I descend, the darkness pulling at my edges like an embrace. The thrill kicks in the moment my boots touch the stone — here, I don't have to pretend. Here, the chaos belongs to me.
Chains rattle. Screeches echo from caged things that forgot how to die.
The beautiful thing about torturing demons? Unless someone of immense power — and by someone, I mean me — ends their lifespan…
They stay Forever, wishing for death that will never come.
And in the history of all time, I've never released a single broken demon soul.
Isn't that just lovely?
"Gentlemen… and women, of course. Forgive my manners."
I hum as I unlock the cell gates, the smell of despair thick on the air.
"Pll-e-eassse—" one dares cling to me.
"Down. You'll soil my shoes."
I kick it aside, its bones cracking like dry twigs. Mmm.
Floating in their fear, I feel calm — finally.
"Let's not waste time. I've got better places to be."
The scraping of a chair being dragged across the floor sings through the room. One of the guards has set it behind me. I won't be comfortable, but I might as well pretend I care in this filth.
"A bound one, I see…"
"Please… please, anything… I'll do anything—"
"What could you possibly offer me?"
I lean forward, grinning.
"Your soul? That's already mine. Your dignity? I peeled that off you three centuries ago."
It sobs — not from pain, not yet. From recognition. That's the best part.
I brush my fingers against the branded mark on its neck. My sigil. Ownership. Legacy. Ruin.
"Do you remember what you did?"
No answer. Just trembling silence. How uncreative.
I sigh, sitting back and crossing my legs. "No volunteers today?"
The others shift, avoid my gaze — those who still have eyes, anyway.
"Let's play a game."
The torches flicker. The chains shudder. The walls inhale.
"Whoever screams the loudest… gets to keep their tongue."
I rise slowly. The gates creak open, cell by cell, like breath held too long
I close my eyes. For a moment, I feel it: peace. Control. The quiet before devastation.
When I open them again, my eyes glow — and so does their fear.
"Lesson begins now."
The first scream tears through the dungeon. Music.
A sigh escapes me.
Finally. Silence dies. And I live.
Diana
The door slams. And for a second, it's just me—and silence.
Then it comes.
That ache.
Not in my chest, but in my bones. In the marrow. In the core of something I don't have a name for. My fingers tremble as I pull the last button of my blouse through its hole. My legs feel cold. Not from the air—but from absence.
I sit there for a moment, barely breathing, before the hum starts.
Low. Deep. Inside me.
It's not the first time.
The sound of something ancient slithering beneath my skin, whispering through the hollows of my bones. My breath catches in my throat. My hands clench the couch cushions until my knuckles turn white.
"I'm fine," I whisper, I'm lying.
The lights flicker once. Then again. Then explode. One by one, the bulbs overhead pop—glass shatters across the floor. My power surges, uninvited, unannounced—just there.
And I'm not just angry. I'm burning.
The chocolate on the counter melts in its box. The curtains catch, flame licking the fabric like it's hungry. But it's not the fire I fear.
It's what's behind it.
What I felt the moment he left.
Something called to me.
Something answered.
The voice I buried deep inside— not mine, not entirely.
And it says:
"He is not yours to trust."
I flinch.
"He is not yours to break for."
I stand, the air around me pulsing.
"He is not yours to cry over, my little ... Wild cat "
I freeze.
Something old. Something inside me, yet it is far to familiar to not know the familiar pull of Kaerith , but this time he's not the one doing the pulling with the magic , I am and his magic is amplifying it .
And the ground beneath my feet trembles as the ancient tongue spills from my lips without permission—
"Anir'kalthar, Drenvaryn, Kaerith! Vela'khoran!'soul forger , blood prince, Kaerith come to me'
Somewhere far, far below, in the chasms of ..... Umbryss, a dungeon grows cold.
The Soul Forger stills, his hand hovering above a whimpering demon.
He lifts his head.
"Did you feel that?"
A pause.
A grin, slow and sharp, slices across Kaerith's face.
"She's calls for me " isn't this fun ?