The Demon Lord And His Hero

"I'd say he was a very pitiful and unlucky boy. The hunger grew inside him every day. He searched and searched the world for a way to piece back the souls but he failed every single time. Eventually, he was driven mad by hunger. The child, now an adult man, released the soul fragments into the world and the hunger began to spread amongst humanity. His assault upon the world then lasted for years till the deities came together and banished him and his army into another dimension."

Red got goosebumps. Why did Rowan have to tell him this? Now he was privy to a secret that only he and Rowan likely knew. But how did Rowan find out in the first place?

"Rowan, do you remember everything?" Red asked. By this point, there was no use pretending that they weren't both aware of each other's chance at second lives.

"Mostly, I think I do."

Red wanted so badly to ask the anti mage how he had passed away. But he could not ask while Luci was also listening.

"So us half-demons are infected, and we have fragments of souls inside us?"

"Yes," Rowan answered. "But those souls aren't just hungry. They also carry the insanity that had taken over the boy after years of his struggle."

"But why do some of us have wings and horns, while others don't?" Red asked.

"Thats because the precursors of humanity had extra attachments to their bodies. They were the first souls that were slaughtered by Ioran."

Red felt enlightened.

"Then this nonsense about demons being inherently evil and doomed.. aren't they lies, Rowan?"

"I can't answer that, Lucien. But believe me when I say this, one day, someone will find a way to free the souls by uniting the fragments. That is what I hope will come to pass."

Red clutched the blanket at his chest. He twisted his fingers in the fabric and calmed his heart. Did Rowan know that the world had tilted and nothing was the same anymore for Red? The redhead still hadn't grasped the ramifications of what he had been told but it would come to him soon.

"That someone, will it be you?" He asked Rowan.

"I don't think so, Lucien. It doesn't mean I won't try though."

"Why do you know this tale when I've never heard anything close to it in all my life?" He asked the blond. If the story was true, why was there no record of it at all? Did humanity collectively forget about the boy who attacked the world? If there were survivors, they'd have passed down stories about it.

"You just have to listen to the message that's common in all the stories, Lucien. The details vary wildly but each tale has a piece of the puzzle that makes the whole picture."

Red tried to recall all the different stories he'd heard about the origins of his kind. "I will have to read anew."

"Mmm," Rowan answered sleepily. "I suggest you begin with the tale of creation as believed by the Akalians."

"Those lunatics?"

Akalians were a community that believed in a divine creature who would come to destroy the world and take them to a paradise in another dimension. They often followed rules that appeared strange to other people. Self-flagellation and rumours of human sacrifices were common to the Akalian community.

"Oh," Red said as he realised how the Akalian beliefs coincided with Rowan's story. "Do they know who they worship?"

"I don't doubt it," Rowan answered. "I have to sleep, Lucien. Unlike you, work starts very early for me." The anti mage's voice was soft with sleep.

"Hey, I go to school too!" Red whispered but Rowan was already surrendering to the sandman's powers.

The redhead slipped lower under the blanket and stayed awake thinking about everything Rowan had told him.

-----

Syryn was in a foul mood in the morning when a letter arrived. It was an invitation for Rowan to a noble lady's debut ball. Another noble family hoping that Rowan would fall in love with their daughter at her debut ball and then ask for her hand in marriage; how unoriginal, Syryn had declared. In his fit of jealousy, he refused to entertain any other possibility for why his lover had received an invitation.

"The nerve of them to send it to MY home!" A vein throbbed on his temple. "Rowan, what the hell is this?" He flapped the perfumed envelope at the blond's face. "How many of these do you get every week?!"

"Not a lot."

"I thought you said they don't follow you?"

"They don't." Rowan was drinking a cup of tea while focused on a report he had received from a messenger hawk.

"Then how did they know you're here?"

Blue eyes glanced at Syryn and back at the report. "Someone must have seen my carriage head inside here. This isn't exactly an isolated neighbourhood, Ryn."

"I will burn all the invitations!"

"Please, go ahead with it. I won't stop you."

"You're not going to move out are you?" Syryn worriedly asked.

"Only if you want me to. But you'll have to come along with me where I go."

"No, this house is comfortable. I'll just put a sign at the gate that says - invitations to balls and birthdays are not welcome."

"Hmm. I'm visiting the silent market tonight. Would you like to come along with me, Ryn?"

The alchemist suddenly felt rejuvenated. Rowan had mentioned the silent market in his last life and it had been a place he wanted to visit.

"Yes! Why is that even a question, Ro? But why are you going?"

The report in his hand turned to ashes and was carried away by the wind. "I heard about a new delivery of arcane artefacts. We might find something there that could be useful to us."

A market so silent that not even the whisper of robes was allowed to be heard; it was a concept that Syryn didn't understand. Why did the market have to be silent? Who enforced the rule? Was there ever an instance when someone had shouted at the top of their lungs just to see what would happen? Regardless, he could tick off another item on the list of places he wanted to visit before the world ended.