Growth

Azreal paced back and forth in the throne room, his anxiety making him as tense as a rubber band. Between how unexpected Sariel’s arrival had been and his family keeping him busy, he’d had  little time to wonder what the King wanted to talk about. Obviously, he was going to want him to rehash his story from the ambush gone wrong now that Azreal had time to recover and process what had happened, butt it was also time for action. They couldn’t just keep sitting around. Even if they were blindsided and had no understanding of the nature of Tempest’s alliance with the demons, they had to do something, otherwise they’d be doing the equivalent of letting an out-of-control wildfire burn through the continent and consume everything. But what could they even do? ‘I don’t envy the King. I wouldn’t want to have to be the one making the decisions that influence the lives and deaths of thousands of people. I am a mercenary, but this sort of thing involving spirits and black magic is beyond my understanding and skill.'

Azreal knew very little, other than that demons were evil, though anyone who believed in God knew that and you didn't need many braincells to put it together. He did know that,  in the material world, there were places where demons would manifest physical forms and dwell. Even though they seemed like different species, they were just as much demons as the invisible evil spirits that moved around in the world and caused pain and chaos. It was beyond his knowledge why, but not all demons could become completely physical monsters. Physically manifested demons were extremely powerful, and, like any other monster, there were different types, classes and abilities among them.  Azreal had never encountered one in person. He wasn’t an explorer or a dungeon crawler, so it wasn’t like he frequented places where demons would hang around; he dealt with humans and humanoid species. He’d encountered evil beings and dark spirits before but...Azreal recalled the overwhelming sense of nausea and wrongness that had called up a disorienting level of panic within him. Those things were pure evil and unrestrained power; how did you even fight something like that? It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced; even with never having encountered a demon before, he’d instantly known what the creatures that had attacked them were.

Azreal paused, looking up at the golden rays of light drifting in from the high windows; specs of dust drifting lazily down upon the room. Even more concerning than the demons themselves, what did their alliance with Tempest mean for the opposing army? Had Tempest’s King willingly made a deal with them? Was the army even acting on their own free will? If the demons were allied with Tempest, then they’d surely have put their dark magic behind its forces. What kind of army were they actually facing at this point? Either the soldiers were just puppets, or they were willingly utilizing dark magic. Or maybe it was both if the disorientation the demons had caused Azreal and Scath were any indication of their effect on humans? The presence of dark magic meant that Opal’s normal means of combat would be useless. Even the Holy Knights couldn’t save them; they were specialized in defeating evil spirits and the forces of darkness, and they were indisputably strong, but how could a few dozen of them defeat a few thousand soldiers with access to dark magic? And given how the mercenaries had thought they had been tracking a scouting party of human spies until they got too close, there were likely demonic entities masquerading as human samong Tempest’s army, too.

‘God help us. This is a mess', he thought bitterly. It’s not like demons allying with humans to cause destruction was unheard of, but something on this level was unprecedented. Honestly, Azreal was terrified. After his childhood, he thought he already knew everything there was to know about how evil and twisted humans could be, but he was wrong. There were still people who would gladly jump even further down into the void of darkness than even the murderers and slave traders he grew up around. ‘That level of pure wickedness and hatred from people...’ Azreal’s stomach lurched. ‘It’s disgusting. But the evil that those things radiated...I hate it. It makes me want to run for the sunlight and take a bath in disinfectant. I can’t put it into words, but it’s something you instinctively know is awful and want nothing to do with. I really don’t want this fight. I don’t want to have anything to do with this demonic war, but...’ He looked down at his calloused and scarred hand. 

"Focus on what is in your power to do and don’t withhold help when you’re the one in the situation with all the strength. Just do what you can and don't overthink the future." His grandmother’s words of advice from his younger days echoed in his head. The words Nanny Tenka had encouraged him with when he’d expressed to her how he felt like he was evil and corrupted to the core and beyond redemption because of his past...’Right. Even if I hate this, I’m still able to do something. I can fight, so I have to because not everyone can. Besides, what’s the point of hating evil if you just run away from it and don’t do anything to actually oppose it? There’s plenty of people in Opal who don’t have the luxury of avoiding what’s coming and they can’t fight for themselves. Maybe this is the reason I’m still alive and working as a mercenary? There's something I can still do, even though I'm no match for a demon...'

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” King Cabochon strode up to his throne on the silver dais and sat down with an air of dignity. “My mind’s being pulled in a hundred different directions lately and I lost track of time.” Azreal jumped as he was unexpectedly startled out of his thoughts. “Ah! It’s n-nothing!” He huffed, trying to replace the air that was shocked out of him. “I wasn’t waiting long." The guards stepped outside of the throne room and closed the doors. Even though they were stationed on the other side of the doors and obviously listening in to every word for a hint of trouble, they still went through the ritual of offering some semblance of privacy. “Are you sure your wounds have healed?” The king raised an eyebrow. “You look... distressed. You were glaring at your palm like it held the secrets of the universe.” Azreal cringed. ‘You’re looking scary again.’ “Well...I kind of was. Am. I was just thinking over everything that...happened. It's been a lot to cope with." The King looked at him gravely, but not unkindly.

“Ah, yes. The reason we’re here today. Sariel told me everything that happened from his end, but I want to hear your story. You two were on completely different sides of a two-pronged ambush. Things are being set in motion for our next move as we speak, but I want to make sure that I’m not missing anything vital before it’s too late to correct our course.” The King sat back in his throne. “First of all, please describe the demons that attacked you and Scath.” Azreal nodded.

“Yes, my Lord.” He took a deep breath. “They were demonic spirits for sure, but I don’t believe that they were the kind of demons that can take on a solid, humanoid form. Or at the very least, they wanted us to think that they were just some sort of shadowy being?” He rubbed the side of his head. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but it’s a bit hard to describe. They had initially been concealing their presence, so we didn’t realize that demonic beings were present until we attempted our assault on the camp of what we assumed were enemy spies. I can’t describe it...but they gave the impression of being twisted and wrong. I don’t know if their forms were actually deformed or not because we couldn't really see them. No.” He shook his head. “We could see them, but our minds couldn’t fully perceive and process them. They looked like vague monsters made of shadows with sharp tentacles. At the very least, the tentacles were real because I cut them and one of them pierced Scath strait through. I don’t know if it was a specific magic being cast or just an effect of their inherently evil nature but...we couldn’t process what we were seeing. And it wasn’t just that, either. Whether it was their magic or mere presence, those things started affecting us mentally before we even saw them.”

The King looked intrigued. “How so?” “Well...” Azreal thought as hard as he could, trying to recall the smallest detail that could help. He snapped his fingers. “We suddenly felt a crippling, unexplainable fear overtake us. It froze us in place and made us struggle to move. Then out of nowhere, the whole environment seemed mutated and hazy, and it took on a red sheen. It was like a switch had been flipped.I initially thought the enemy may have released some sort of toxin, but we both assumed it was some sort of chemical weapon. At least, initially. Then I realized that it was the presence of dark magic, and we put it together that they had put a barrier up so we wouldn’t realize that there was a demonic presence until we were in their trap. We took off right away because we knew demons were beyond our skill level but...” Azreal lowered his eyes in shame. “You see how that worked out. Scath didn't make it and I'd be dead if Sariel didn't come back for us.”

Suddenly, he fell to his knees and pressed his head to the floor. “I’m so sorry, my Lord! This is a mess, and it’s all my fault! I was too stupid to realize that we were heading into a trap and it’s my fault that three of my teammates are dead. I failed you and them.” Molten shame boiled inside his guts. ‘This man believed in me and was willing to give me a chance when no one else would, and I failed him. I got people killed and now it’s a problem that he must deal with personally. He trusted me and I fucked up. I’m beyond pathetic...I can't do anything right...'

“Raise your head, friend.” The King said gently. “You’re not to blame for any of this. Tempest deceived us all and we didn’t know about the demons. You did everything right, but Tempest was playing a completely different game.” The King smiled. “If it wasn’t for you and Sariel, we would have never found out about Tempest allying with demons and using dark magic. Your survival is commendable and, thanks to that, we can fight back. You didn’t do anything wrong, so please stop apologizing and stand up.” “Yes, Lord,” Azreal murmured, turning pink as he got to his feet. “Just because you feel that you should have been able to do more to save the others, it doesn’t mean that you’re to blame. I don’t think their deaths were your fault, and I’m sure they didn’t blame you.”

Azreal didn’t know about that; knowing them, the three men had died cursing his name and blaming him as usual. If there was something they could pick at or accuse him of, they would. “That’s...odd...?” He suddenly remembered how Scath had looked at him in confusion in his final moments. ‘When he was stabbed, he asked me for help.’ Azreal suddenly recalled. ‘I wonder...did he realize in the end that I wasn’t his enemy? He seemed confused, like he was suprised that I was actually helping him.’ “You might be right. I hope you are.” Azreal conceded. Part of him wanted to believe that there had still been some humanity in Scath; that he could have chosen to change and be better if he’d lived longer. If there had been a way to stop Scath from bleeding to death, maybe they would have even become friends the way that he and Sariel had in the wake of the incident.

“I’m not going to let those things get away with killing the others and I won’t let it happen again. It’s just me and Sariel now and, since I’m the leader, I won’t fail him.” He promised; more to himself than the King. “Me and Sariel are completely on the same page now. Surviving helped us connect on a human level and we trust each other, so I know we’ll be ready for whatever happens. I wish the others were still alive...but we were always just working in parallel together. We weren’t a unit and had no loyalty to each other, but it’s different now that it’s me and Sariel. I’m sure we’ll be able to work with everyone else now that it's just us. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but the other three were the ones who usually caused the problems. You know how I feel about Cryph, but he’s never bothered me and is usually just there dispensing his...wisdom?” Azreal didn’t exactly think that was the best term for Cryph’s knowledge on ways to deceive and kill but, as much as he found the man to be terrifying and repulsive, the old man was an indispensable trove of knowledge on combat and espionage. “Sariel’s always been the best one in the unit. His combat skills are second only to Crypth’s and he’s always calm and discerning, no matter the situation. He’s always done his part without causing issues. If it’s just the two of us, I’m sure we’ll have no issue with cooperating with the other soldiers."

As he spoke, Azreal could feel his confidence grow. For better or worse, the other three men dying had freed him from the constant torment and discord that had riddled the group. ‘I’m not happy they’re dead, but I don’t think it’s wrong or evil to be relieved that I don’t have to deal with them anymore. Like the King and Sariel said, I did what I could, and the way that things turned out wasn’t my fault because you can’tjust game life by doing everything right. I’m scared about the future, but there's less fear there then there would be if I had to face this threat while leading the team. Sariel is a good person, and I know we can work together. He saved my life, after all. This isn’t going to be like it was before. Sariel isn’t afraid to say what he really thinks, but he doesn’t just dismiss me or my choices. I’ll be fighting with a friend I trust. I won’t have to be subjected to the constant harassment or ongoing reminders of my past.’ For the first time, he wasn’t exactly happy to fight, but he wasn’t feeling a sense of dread, doom and desire for avoidance as the inevitability of warfare loomed large.

“Seems like it was just yesterday that we met for the first time.” The King reminisced. “You were just a scared, timid child back then. It’s shocking to think about. You’ve grown and changed so much since then, Azreal.” Azreal stared in shock. “Really? I have?” It didn’t feel like it. The King nodded firmly. “You have. Especially in the last year or two. You’ve become more confident and assertive and grown into your role as a leader.” “I don’t deserve such high praise, my Lord.” ‘I’ve grown as a leader? I don’t feel like a leader at all, even after all these years. Feels like I'm just scrabbling to stay alive.’

“No, you do.” The King insisted, leaning forward with an intense gaze. “You had every reason to give up and go rouge, but you didn’t. Even when your life wasn’t easy, you kept moving forward. You’re one of the most genuine and trustworthy people I have, Azreal. That takes real strength and determination, and you should recognize that.” “T-thank you...” Azreal stammered, flustered by the compliment. What did he do to deserve to be praised by the King in such a way? There were so many people serving in the royal court and army; surely he couldn’t be one of the best! ‘But the King isn’t a liar.’ He thought to himself. ‘Even if it’s overblown, his gratitude and appreciation is genuine and he’s glad to have my help.’ “I should be thanking you, Lord. If it wasn’t for you...I probably wouldn’t be alive today. You were the first person to see me as a human being and you were willing to give me a chance when no one else would and I was ready to give up.” Azreal smiled. “I’m very blessed.”

“It’s ironic, I was just talking to Zircon about this the other day.” The king laughed. “I can’t recall how it came up, but we started reminiscing about the past and he brought up the moment that he did a soul gaze on you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man so floored and emotional as he was back then. You sure surprised him!”

Azreal smirked. “Yeah, that’s one thing I’m still proud of. He’s so grumpy and world weary that it’s an achievement to get any emotion out of him, so I consider myself lucky to have gotten to see that.”

The king chuckled. “All jokes aside, though, you really left quite an impression on him back then. Me as well. I didn’t just decide to hire you on a whim, you know. I had a good feeling about you and Zircon’s soul gaze just proved how much potential you have. You’re a unique person, Azreal, and you’re a lot stronger than you think you are.”

“T-thank you.” Azreal demurred with a dip of his head. He didn’t know what unique qualities the King was talking about or what he could do that someone else couldn’t, but he wanted to believe that he had a purpose for living. That there was something that made him special. As embarrassing as it was, as much as he wanted to deny it, he desperately wanted the King to be right. He wanted his life to mean something. If nothing else, he wanted to leave something positive behind when he died. He wanted to be known as someone who healed and helped others, not someone who only caused pain. He didn’t want to be locked into the person he’d become to survive his childhood; he wanted to become something better. Whatever it was the King saw in him, he wanted it to be the real him, not the terror that other people saw when they looked at him.

The King gave him a reassuring smile before reverting to his composed and serious demeanor. “Well, it looks like I had nothing to worry about. I was concerned that the demonic presence might mentally affectyou and Sariel, but that was misplaced. We shouldn’t have any obstacles to our plan going forward. But, before that, I need to you tell me what happened that night from start to finish. I won’t comment and will just listen, so tell me anything and everything you observed, no matter how insignificant it seemed.”

Azreal took a deep breath and started his story over from the beginning.