Pure darkness surrounded Alex. Where was he? And why was it so cold? Why couldn't he feel anything? Shit, shit, shit!
That backstabbing Daemon! Of course he couldn't trust a single thing he said. He was a fool to have ever considered a deal of any kind.
Was he dead?
He honestly couldn't tell. If he tried to focus on moving a limb he wouldn't be able to tell if he was successful in the endeavor because it was too dark, and the only thing he could feel was a burning cold that chilled him to his core.
Alex tried to think and focus on what could have possibly happened, but this damn darkness made it impossible to gather his thoughts.
Eventually he was able to calm his breathing and steady his mind. Focus. He needed to focus. The one resounding thought that struck a chord deep within him was that there were worse things than just death.
Dying was just that. The end of things. No more worries or stress. But whose to say you couldn't be trapped in limbo for all of eternity, stuck with nothing but your own thoughts. Or perhaps a Daemon could hijack your body and use it to wreak havoc, leaving you trapped in some dark prison.
The more he thought about it, the more Alex was convinced that death was actually the preferred method for an end to existence. Death was quick and simple. Death was permanent and final. Would he be so lucky to have that kind of end?
He had barely begun to scratch the surface of a universe beyond the hellish life he had endured on Earth, and he was starting to think that what he went through was tame compared to the nightmares that existed elsewhere.
That didn't diminish or take away from the shitstorm that had been his life so far. What he went through had been hell, but knowing that the Hells were an actual plane of existence really put things into perspective for him.
If the Hells existed, surely there had to be heaven, or at least something similar to it, right? Gods, Daemons, and everything in between. Was he truly prepared for all of that? Could he really find his own way in the universe and carve out a life that he wanted to live?
If so, what would the cost of such a life be? Would he have to become the monster he thought about when he went to sleep at night, or could he keep his hands clean? In a way, his hands were already stained with the blood of those unfortunate enough to be in his way. Did that make him a bad person?
Was the universe as black and white as that? Was it as simple as good and evil? There might be someone who does evil things in the name of good, but did that make it right?
Did that justify taking the life of someone who had done bad things for the greater good? He had made the deal with Arburnok in order to survive, but was that decision enough to warrant him being a bad person?
As with all moral quandaries, the answers were not readily apparent to Alex. He was just one human trying to do the best he could with the tools he had been given. He wasn't some all-knowing god or some crazy powerful entity. He was just himself, and he was still finding his way.
The real question was how in the hell he would get out of here, wherever "here" was. Alex was ninety percent sure he wasn't dead, which meant that he was most likely trapped somewhere. Had Arburnok really taken over his body?
The more he thought over their conversation, the more Alex convinced himself that this was the case. The Daemon had literally told him that his kind was backstabbers by nature, so it made sense that every word spoken was probably a lie.
Alex closed his eyes, accepting that for the time being he was stuck here and he could only hope that the part about making a vow was true. If it wasn't… He didn't want to think about that.
Why? Why did things always go wrong for him? It felt like no matter what choice he made had any real impact on how things ended up. Want to go adventuring with your sister? Well too damn bad, you're gonna end up going on a soul searching journey to make sure you don't implode later on.
Want to try and contribute to the defense of a realm because you were deemed worthy enough to do so? Congrats, you'll make a deal with a Daemon to avoid dying and end up trapped in some dark void for all of eternity as it uses your body like a puppet.
You want to just live a normal life after being reborn? Tough luck, the world is gonna blow up soon and you're the only one who can save it.
Things were never just as simple as he wanted them to be, and it was starting to piss him off.
Gods and Daemons. A realm spanning war. The amalgamation of Earth and another realm. He didn't really care about any of it. Maybe that spoke more about his character than anything, but he just couldn't find it in himself to give a shit about the bigger picture. All he wanted was to live a normal life and make up for all the time missed with his sister.
He wished he had just stayed dead…
Just as that thought crossed his mind a sharp pain blossomed within his chest, and then it started to spread throughout his body. It felt like his very being was on fire and he was getting consumed by the hottest flames imaginable from inside-out.
He couldn't even move in any attempt to try to quench the searing sensation he felt. Being cooked alive by invisible flames hadn't been on his list of shitty deaths before, but it was quickly rising to the worst one possible.
His cries and screams went unheard by anyone, echoing in the vast darkness encapsulating him. It was like he had been stabbed by that sword the stranger had used, except it was all over his body and not just his leg.
There was no escaping it. There was no relief. He would rather suffer in silence for eternity than to have to endure this for any moment longer.
The pain eventually became too much to bear and unconsciousness took him.
***
"They are coming again, Arburnok. Our defenses will not hold."
"You worry too much Veldris. The Celestial Heavens and their hosts have not pierced Zazzarak's defenses in over five hundred years, and I do not intend on letting that record be broken today."
Two armored figures stood on a dark stone balcony, overlooking the city they had been defending for half a millennia. The flames of war had not been kind to the place.
Entire districts lay in ruin, their buildings nothing more than rubble and heaping piles of stone. The once thriving marketplaces and bustling city streets were nothing more than places of despair and hopelessness. A vision of the future that awaited the city.
Sections of the outer wall had been breached, resealed, and then breached again over the five hundred years. The patchwork masonry, even done by Master Stonesmiths, would not be able to withstand another prolonged siege.
The shield that Archmage Farazor had conjured up was wavering. The shimmering waves of red that represented the wards that held off the army outside the city flickered as another magical assault came.
The mage had long since fallen, defending a portion of the city that had housed over a million citizens, and the defenders had never really recovered from the loss of his magical prowess.
Even the promised legions of Demons from Arch Lord Kalizik of Velemar had not come, though Arburnok believed there were treacherous reasons as to why that was the case. Kalizik had been after his seat on the Triad for two hundred years and their rivalry was practically famous amongst Daemon-kind.
He rolled his one good eye towards his comrade in arms and gave him a toothy smile. "Fear not Veldris. We will be victorious. As Arch Lord of this city, I will not see it fall into the Celestial Heaven's hands. I have a plan."
"As do I, Arch Lord."
Arburnok nodded solemnly, already expecting what was coming. He had long since known his second in command was going to betray him and sell out the city to the Celestial Heavens.
There was nothing to be done about it. He did not hold it against his friend for doing what he thought was best. Afterall, survival was the only thing that mattered.
Truth be told, Arburnok was tired.
He had risen through the ranks of the Daemon society at an early age and he had become a noble before his hundredth year of existence. From there his power had only grown, and in another hundred years he had become a Greater Daemon.
And then, by the time he was two hundred and fifty, he had achieved the feat of becoming an Arch Lord of a city, something unprecedented in Daemon history.
At four hundred he had been selected to join the Triad for his realm, one of the highest honors a Daemon like him could ever hope to achieve.
For three thousand years he had ruled. For three thousand years Veldris had stood at his side and been his most loyal friend.
And then the Celestials came with their righteous quest of eradicating all the types of Hell-Spawn that existed across the realms.
A curved blade pierced Arburnok's back and burst out from his chest. He didn't cry out in pain or scream at the fact that Veldris had betrayed him. He just accepted his fate and fell to his knees.
A clawed hand rested on his shoulder. "It has been an honor, old friend. You do not need to fear, the holy ones promised that they would not banish you, and would instead seal you." The blade was withdrawn from Arburnok's body and he collapsed to the floor of the balcony, his eye gazing out at his city one last time before darkness took him.
***
Alex awoke with a start, choking and coughing as crisp fresh air filled his lungs. A starry night sky stared back at him, illuminating the tops of trees swaying gently in the wind. He gulped down breaths like a man starved for air, and then sat up once he realized he was actually alive and not trapped in some dark space.
Somehow he had ended up outside of the vault, his head was attached and surprisingly, he felt great. Hell, he felt even better than he had prior to the battle starting. He checked himself for any wounds or marks and found none, it was like he had never been stabbed through the calf in the first place.
Just what in the world happened?
"You became my vessel, young Alexander." Arburnok's gravelly voice, clear as day, startled Alex, causing him to almost jump up and draw his weapons. Right. The Daemon. "I put you through a trial of sorts, and once I deemed you worthy, you were granted access to my memories. Likewise, I saw some of yours."
Another fucking trial?! Alex was getting tired of all these trials. It was trial this, trial that. Why in the world did everyone have a trial for every little thing? "You should be lucky I put you through it, human. If we were incompatible in any way, you would've been destroyed and I would still be trapped in that infernal crystal."
Alex's mind quieted down, he didn't have anything to say to that.
If he wasn't under threat of being killed by random Chaos Raiders, then he was possibly gonna cease to exist because he unknowingly took a trial that would rip apart his very being. And if those things didn't take him out, there were always stupid fucking assassins waiting for him to turn his back.
He was aware that Arburnok was talking about something, but Alex wasn't paying the Daemon any attention. He was too caught up in the fact that the universe seemed to have an endless amount of ways to kill you. Poisonous killer croks, oversized weeds and ravenous wolf packs were just the tip of the iceberg.
Alex hung his head in his hands as he contemplated everything. Was this just his life now? Was he just always going to end up in situations that kept getting worse and worse and worse until he had to sell some part of himself or make some deal that would have horrific ramifications for everyone else.
He didn't want the answer to that question.
Arburnok continued to talk to him, but Alex was just too deep in his own mind to pay heed to whatever bullshit the Daemon might be spewing. He honestly didn't care. It was just another voice in his head that he would have to suffer with for the time being.
"Sheesh, tough crowd. I was just explaining how I gloriously saved your life from that wretched Daemon warlord, you're welcome by the way." Arburnok's jovial tone broke him out of the thoughts rampaging through his mind, and it did nothing to help the bitter mood Alex was in. The last thing he needed was a talkative Daemon rambling in his head all day long.
"Well unfortunately for you, Mr. Grumpy-Pants who begged me to save him, we were indeed compatible, and you became my vessel. Like it or not, we were fated to meet. You are stuck with me now Alexander Khelton, till the end of your life."