A Darker Shade of Sorcery - - (leveled readers .txt) 📗

to us?” Evan found his voice at last.

“I will make sure it doesn't,” Vanderain vowed.

Tarensen interrupted, “Akirandon and Adena despised one another. You two may have been created to fight against one another.”

Brooke looked at Evan. “What, like, kill each other?”

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“Hush, son,” said Vanderain, “we have no way of knowing that. So far it appears to be the opposite. I suspect you two gravitated towards one another subconsciously because of your demonic link.”

Evan remembered the first time they’d met and how he was sure he’d known Brooke before. She’d even asked him if they’d met already. Was this why? We were drawn to each other because we’re both abominations.

A thousand questions speared though Evan's head, this was all too unreal.

He thought back to his recurring nightmares of the purple-eyed shadow woman.

Was that her, Akirandon? Is that who my mother is?

“I've never had a mother,” said Evan, “I don't know how to feel about having one who's evil. Wait!” He panicked. “You said she only created me for sacrifice to resurrect the god.”

“I don’t understand it all myself,” Vanderain replied gently, “one prophecy does say that sacrificing a demon-spawn shall resurrect Ezanathul, another says a demon-spawn will be the one to destroy him forever. What I do know is that if you two exist, then other spawn could too.”

Evan wasn't sure how he felt about having siblings either. Would they look and act like me? Could they be evil too? Brooke clearly wasn't evil, but then their mothers weren’t the same, just both iniquitous demon demi-gods.

“So what now?” Evan asked.

“We find the other Demon-Spawn.” Tarensen said. “If the prophecies are to be believed, then one of them could be in danger of being sacrificed, another may be the key to destroying Ezanathul, should he ever return.”

“In all my years, if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that nothing is set in stone,”

said Vanderain. “Some say prophecies are made to be broken, others that prophecies

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can be ignored or translated falsely. Before we do anything, I think we need to know more. The only thing we know for sure is that Evan and Brooke are two of a kind, the first two of a kind. Either way, I will not let anyone be sacrificed. Firstly, because I’ll battle with every last breath before an innocent’s blood is spilled. And secondly, if Ezanathul is born again, all the realms will be in danger of being enslaved or destroyed.”

A shocked silence infused the chamber at Vanderain’s words.

“All we know is that you are capable of conjuring very powerful, very dangerous demon magic that could be harmful to you and everyone around you. But I promise I will help both of you in learning to control your powers.”

Evan didn't know much, but he knew he had to get a reign on this magic. He couldn't bear it if he hurt someone accidentally.

“I advise you tell no one, except those you trust completely, about this.” Vanderain continued. “I fear if the whole Fortress knew, some of them would not take kindly to you, others would cause mass panic.”

Evan nodded again, feeling numb.

“I shall return shortly.” Vanderain stood up. “But first I must find Arantay and Falawn, wherever in the realms they may be. Come Tarensen, you need to double check all our Venators are safe and accounted for.”

Tarensen strode from the room, whilst Vanderain paused by the door. “I'm so very sorry for all you've been through and all that I've told you. Know only that we will get through this.”

Once Vanderain left the chamber Evan stood, still in a state of shock. Brooke did the opposite, collapsing on Vanderain’s chair. She looked as dumbstruck as Evan felt.

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A lump of nausea had formed in his throat and anxiety bubbled in his stomach.

How can I be the son of a demon queen?

“I guess that's why I felt my family never really loved me,” Brooke said at last.

“Some part of them must've known I was nothing more than a stranger to them.”

“Probably explains why I was abandoned in the forest as a baby too,” Evan replied, just as miserably.

“So… let me get this straight.” Brooke struggled, “both our moms are not only demons, but two of the most powerful demons ever, who served this terrible god.

Both these crazy women, if you can call them women, figured how to do the impossible, which is creating us, only half human demon-spawn. Oh and apparently they hate each other too.”

Evan felt like his mind would collapse under all this information.

“We can both perform the same magic Venators use to hunt demons,” he said. Is that because our fathers were Realmers? Vanderain sure thinks yours was.”

“I dunno’” Brooke shrugged. “We know Venators usually pass their sorcery through their children, but not always.”

Evan continued, “We also possess sorcery only demon Dread Lords can wield.

Power we have no control over. Power we need to learn to control.”

Brooke breathed heavily. “Why us eh? Weren’t we special enough just being demon hunters?”

A concentrated silence hung between them like a heavy thread, Brooke snapped it in half as she asked, “Do we tell the others?”

Evan hesitated. “We will, but not yet. We should let them know we’re safe from the battle and everything before we drop this bombshell.”

Brooke nodded and then froze, as if something had dawned on her.

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“I need to check on Arantay and Lok,” she leaped back out of the chair, “and Elijah and… did Vanderain say something about Arantay? I was too busy taking everything in, I…”

“Vanderain told me all the Realmers were okay,” Evan cut in, “but all the elves have been killed and Arantay and his brother are missing.”

The colour of Brooke’s face was sucked out of her skin.

“Oh god, I think Falawn has done something terrible.” She made to run from the room but then turned and hugged him instead.

“Vanderain’s right you know, we can get through this, we will get through this.”

Brooke smiled suddenly. “We can’t change our parents, or who we are, but at least we’re in this together.”

She released the embrace and opened the door, “I need to know what’s going on with Arantay but I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Evan nodded gratefully as Brooke departed.

He followed her out of the chamber and set off in the opposite direction, meaning to tell Jed and the others he was back. He was safe.

Evan smiled faintly despite himself. Vanderain was right. Brooke was right.

Neither of them could change what they were, so they just had to accept it. Evan vowed to himself he’d get this demon magic under control as soon as he could. And then he could continue his training to one day journey throughout the realms, saving innocent lives from demons, Dark-Venators and other monsters.

As he walked through the Fortress, the twin suns of Veneseron shined through the windows, illuminating the wonders all around him. Throughout everything that had happened, all that Evan had discovered, at least he was back at Veneseron. At least now, he was home.

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EPILOGUE

Velkarath lounged before him in all its wretched glory. It’s twisted towers gleamed malice and he always suspected the walls themselves dripped with poison.

All four of Galk’s ears were filled with the duelling sounds of misery and delight that always accompanied Velkarath. The misery of the tortured and delight of the torturers.

If despair was food you would grow bloated on the abundance here.

Galk couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he entered the black Fortress. Like many others he’d thought Akirandon training humans to serve her would be a futile endeavour, but he couldn’t deny that some of the children were up to the task.

As he approached the stronghold, the Dark-Realmers were plentiful. Many regarded Galk with interest whilst others, the newer ones, reacted with abject fear at seeing a Dread Lord.

The Fortress was one colossal citadel, festooned by an assortment of towers. The towers themselves were adorned with cages, swaying in the arid air. Many cages were occupied with prisoners left to die there, but a few of them held Dark-Venators who’d misbehaved. Galk knew their stays in the cages were only a day long, so he relished the other Dark-Venators who humiliated them. As he passed, a group of Rakarn were

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levitating pebbles, attempting to hit the prisoners. Galk saw one boy weeping in his cage and his smile widened.

The whole realm was a volcanic wasteland with the city and Fortress built atop and amongst it. Magma dribbling across the ground was a constant, bright green or a deep red; although more times than not the red lava was usually blood instead.

In front of the entrance doors was a training courtyard. The Rakarn were being forced to duel with swords instead of sorcery and the first one to draw blood or knock his opponent out was the victor. The loser was unceremoniously dragged off the courtyard and dumped into a pile of fellow losers. A few of the defeated were crying out in pain. As Galk passed, a Velkarath master seized a young girl roughly. She’d been attempting to heal the huge gash on her leg.

“No!” the master ordered. “Let the scar remind you of your incompetence. The Venators won’t give you time to heal.”

Galk entered the castle, which was bone-chillingly cold compared to the relentless heat outside. Galk knew it was by design. Everything in this place was to toughen the Rakarn up.

The slaves scurried to Galk as he entered the Fortress, their chains clanking behind them as they yammered to serve him. He merely snarled; amused by the way they cowered. One slave boy’s terrified squeak made him chuckle.

He remembered the way to the throne room. The castle passages were empty as he walked, except for the myriad of spiteful creatures. A spider as big as his head scurried up one wall away from him and an emaciated Hydra was chewing on dead rats in a corner.

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Galk glanced into several chambers as he walked, one showed a pit full of zombies being taunted by a gleeful ghost, whilst another was occupied with several Rakarn ingesting demon narcotics.

He moved to avoid the onlekk guards who came around the corner, dragging a struggling Dark-Venator with them.

Another Master followed behind. “If you refuse to use your sorcery to inflict pain upon others then you will be punished. Today you’ll have a public flogging, next time it may be execution.”

“No! Please Master, please!” The Dark-Realmer’s cries echoed off the walls.

“Silence boy, anymore struggling and we’ll remove your sorcery permanently and leave you in the Wildwastes, a death far more horrific than execution.”

The boy fell quiet immediately.

Galk chuckled under his breath.

He ducked through a jagged hole in the castle and stepped outside onto the bridge leading to Akirandon’s personal tower. The air here was acrid and the bridge was littered with high spikes for handrails, the tip of each spike decorated with the heads of Akirandon’s more famous victims.

As he walked across the bridge a valorc soared above him, Galk sneered at the valkyrie-orc mutant as it