Lord Fayjoy told Luna everything he knew, yet as she stepped away from him, she felt as though they had gained nothing at all. All she had heard was a father stubbornly defending his son’s character.
By the ti they exited the residence, the drizzle had grown into a full rain. Dark clouds rolled heavily overhead, and the courtyard stones glistened under the downpour.
The lord offered them a place to stay for the night, but Luna declined with a polite shake of her head. She was in no mood to linger after everything he had said.
Inside the carriage, Iris sat quietly as rain patterned against the glass window in uneven streaks.
"I heard Lord Fayjoy was a womanizer with many concubines and illegitimate children. I just didn’t think he’d take such a firm stance for his son."
Luna did not answer imdiately.
She tried, once again, to picture her father’s face.
It ca blurred.
Every ti she forced herself to recall the man who was always swinging his sword, the image slipped away, replaced instead by the clear mory of her brother.
She rembered her father had been kind. A good man. She knew that much.
"That’s what a father is..." Luna murmured at last. "Grandfather once told no matter what, you can never understand how deep the bond between a parent and child goes."
Iris lowered her head slightly, her thoughts drifting to her own father.
The carriage sped along the main road, passing a long military convoy marching in the rain.
Luna’s gaze lingered on them through the wet glass.
"I miss my father, Iris," she whispered.
A pause.
"I miss my mother too... I hate that they’re dead. I hate that I can’t do anything about it..."
Her voice cracked despite how softly she spoke.
Iris glanced at her. Luna’s grey eyes were still fixed on the window, distant and unfocused. She hadn’t expected to hear sothing like that from her.
"My mother... I didn’t forget what she looked like. There are portraits of her all over the Brightwater estate. My grandfather even has a shrine for her." Luna swallowed. "But my father... he’s gone. I don’t have a single image. I don’t even rember what his face looks like anymore."
Iris hesitated, unsure what to say. She was not good with things like this. She preferred problems she could face head-on.
"I’m sorry," she whispered.
Luna smiled faintly and shook her head.
"It’s fine. It doesn’t bother as much anymore. I have my brother... and I know he will never betray ."
Her eyes shifted again to the soldiers outside, now mixed with rcenaries bearing the Fayjoy insignia.
"These must be part of the third wave," Luna said, biting her lower lip. "Which ans the fighting must have already started."
Her fingers tightened slightly against her dress.
"My brother is there fighting. I’m... I’m scared he could die. And then I’ll be all alone..."
Iris reached across the small space and held her hand.
"This Damon you keep talking about... he’ll live. I’m sure of it."
Luna gave a small smile and deliberately changed the topic.
"Where do you think they’ll take us for the end-of-sester evaluation?"
Iris caught on and played along.
"Maybe the front lines. We might see Damon. Or maybe we’ll get thrown into the page program."
Luna laughed softly at that. Absurd.
Yet, knowing the academy, not impossible.
"Haha... I bet my brother is busy killing demons..."
Her laughter faded quickly.
"You do realize it’s not easy... He’s fighting. I know it’s dangerous. Bloody."
Luna placed a hand over her chest and bowed her head slightly.
"Goddess, please keep my brother safe."
As she prayed, a faint shine briefly appeared along her arm, carrying a soft aura of divinity before fading as quietly as it had co.
*****
Sowhere on the demon continent, Damon pushed a large plate of seafood away with two fingers, his expression faintly irritated.
"This lobster is too buttery... and this damn steak is too juicy."
He waved his hand lazily.
"Bring so tamberry cakes."
He wore fine clothes tailored to perfection, his hair neatly styled, the room around him cooled by layers of air-conditioning magic that humd softly in the background.
Beautiful won lingered nearby, attentive and silent.
On all sides of the chamber stood towering balrogs, their flaming spears casting shifting light across the polished floor as they waited for his beck and call without moving an inch.
This had been his life for the past month.
In demon territory, Damon lived like a king.
No one dared to attack his tower. The other tower lords remained unusually quiet. More towers were being occupied across the land, yet none made a move against him.
Instead, monsters, demons, and demonkin kept arriving at the city in steady waves, hoping to serve the new rulers if they proved worthy.
Everyone else scrambled to recruit.
Damon did nothing.
He remained closed off inside his tower.
Yet his tower was simply too large to ignore.
Many demons refused all recruitnt offers and instead camped outside his domain, choosing to wait.
The reason was simple.
On the demon continent, power was everything.
And whoever ruled a tower of this size had to be unimaginably powerful. The occasional sight of balrogs patrolling the periter was more than enough to convince them.
’At this rate, I can take over Trace easily,’ Damon thought, leaning back into his seat.
These demons did not know him.
He was an unknown.
And that was precisely why they were drawn here.
He had shown power, but never himself.
The unknown was sothing to be feared.
It was the sa with the Unknown God.
The more unknown he was, the more terrifying he seed. Yet the more Damon learned about him, the more human he appeared... and the less frightening he beca.
He was still terrifying, of course. Very much so.
But now Damon saw him for what he truly was.
A known unknown.
User Comments
0 comments from readers