Dammit, the bars seemed to be made of mavale crystals, the same material used in the Deiwos Clan prison to suppress voidents. The magical barrier was trapping him inside. Langa took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he realised something strange. He was in a cramped cell like this, yet he didn't feel his heart racing; he didn't feel the walls closing in on him, and he was not suffocating. With his claustrophobia, he should have been having a major anxiety attack right now.
A groan alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone. He tensed up slightly and looked around. The person groaning was a pathetically skinny child, with short cropped blue hair and scattered blue scales on his arms. He was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees, and leaning against the wall. Even though Liv was looking down, Langa could feel the uncontrolled energy around him, biting the air.
“Liv?” Langa asked. He reached out to touch him, but his hands went through the child's body as if he were a ghost.
[Welcome to Liv’Kungsadu’s Soulhold. To complete the Soul’s Trial of Trust, earn the trust of Liv’Kungsadu’s soul.]
As expected, this was part of the Trial of Trust. Langa had no idea how he was supposed to get a soul to trust him. It occurred to him that he should have researched this trial for more information, but it was too late now. His eyes watched young Liv brooding in the dreary atmosphere of the cell. Before he could figure out how to get the child version of his friend to trust him when he couldn’t even see him, Langa heard a shuffling noise from outside that made him look up.
Someone landed quietly in front of the cell from above and looked around nervously. It was hard to tell what he looked like in the darkness, but once the dim light of the lucent crystal hit him, Langa could see that he was a young dragonkin, no older than fourteen. He was short for a dragonkin, had red scales covering parts of his body, and a cowl covering his face. When the newcomer looked into the cell, sure that no one heard him, Liv perked up immediately.
“Maipsatenkka...! You’re here,” Liv whispered as he crawled towards the front of the cell. “I thought... maybe not coming...today.”
Langa frowned. Was Liv the only dragonkin with an easy name? How the hell did they expect people to pronounce their names correctly?
“Sorry,” Maipsatenkka said. He reached into the bag he was carrying and retrieved what looked like a leg of lamb, then he took a deep exhale as if he were preparing for a spell, only to slowly push his hands through the gap in the crystalline bars. Langa was surprised when the mavale bars did not glow to repel him; instead, Maipsatenkka handed the meat to Liv. “I know I’m late, but I brought you a peace offering. A change from all the bland dungeon rations.”
With anticipation in his eyes, Liv took the meat like it was a precious treasure and bit into it. His breath shuddered. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.
Langa wondered what the hell this was. Why was Liv acting like he hadn’t eaten in days? As a matter of fact, why was a child who looked barely 8 or 9 years old locked up in a cell that suppressed his mana? He did not like the way Liv spoke either. His voice was hoarse off his throat, and the words did not flow out coherently. He took pauses between the words as if he were looking for the right word to use, and it was as if he was just now learning how to speak properly.
Maipsatenkka smiled at Liv with a pained look on his face. “It’s the absolute least I could do,” he said, his voice small and choked.
If he cared about Liv, why the hell was he letting him stay in here? The bars clearly did not affect him, so Langa wondered why he couldn't set Liv free.
Liv did not seem to pick up on his visitor’s sombre mood as he asked between mouthfuls, “Where were you?”
“I had to go to lead the prayers at a rite,” Maipsatenkka said, clearing his throat.
“Did something happen?” Liv asked with interest.
Maipsatenkka sat down in a lotus position, eyes closed as if in prayer. “Another hatchling died this morning.”
“So what?” Liv asked, his mouth full. “That happens... all the time. Surely... didn't expect the hatchling to live.”
Maipsatenkka looked at him sternly. “Liv, remember our lessons about mortals and sensitivity? This is one of those times when you have to be compassionate. Mortals need comfort after a loss like this. If you say this was expected, it hurts their feelings.”
Liv tilted his head in confusion. “But...the truth. You said...important to tell the truth...all times, as The Living Wing commands.”
“Sometimes a lie is better to keep things safe and normal,” Maipsatenkka explained. “Like right now, the den-mother thinks that I am doing Mana Control training. If she found out that I used my superior mana control to sneak in here and visit you, both of us would be in trouble.”
Langa knew that Liv did not get along with his grandmother, but to think she kept him locked up like this, cut away from other mortals, and ignorant of simple everyday things made him understand why Liv was the way he was.
Liv nodded. “Alright. What happened to...hatchling? If...survived until hatching day, something... wrong?”
“Ah, the father is an Enclave Elder, almost as old as the den-mother, and he previously produced a healthy pureblood hatchling, so we were all hopeful. But The Sea Dragon King can be really cruel. We’ve only had three purebloods born in the past five centuries, you know. The curse is getting progressively worse,” he said with a defeated sigh.
Liv said nothing, sitting down with his arms folded as he finished his food. The look on his face showed something suspiciously like satisfaction.
Maipsatenkka frowned at him. “Next time, I’ll teach you how to school your expressions. Even if your words don’t, your face might give away your true feelings,” he said. “Anyway, today's prayer was harder for me because Vavuciadsforenkka was upset. I had to stay longer so I could comfort him. He was looking forward to being a big brother too.”
Liv looked up from the meat. “What’s a big brother?” he asked.
Maipsatenkka thought for a moment, probably trying to decide how to phrase it. “Family," he finally said. "A big brother looks after his younger siblings, teaches them things, and greatly cares about them. He protects them from anything that would hurt them.”
Liv put down his food and looked up at Maipsatenkka with wonder. “Are you my big brother, Maipsatenkka?” he asked.
“What?” Maipsatenkka was visibly flustered.
“You are... the only person who cares about me and wants...protect me. You...not my brother?” the boy asked.
“I can’t be your brother, Liv,” Maipsatenkka said quietly. “I’m not worthy of it… and we don’t share blood.”
Liv deflated and looked down. “I’m sorry. Of course, you... not have cursed blood.”
“That’s not it,” Maipsatenkka said vehemently, pushing his hand through the bars to touch Liv.
“What are you doing?” Liv asked, trying to push his hand away. “The mavale will hurt... you...move the lucents.”
The crystalline bars glowed. “I need you to understand this. I don’t deserve that title, Liv,” Maipsatenkka said. “A brother would do more than bring you food and teach you how to speak, read, or write. He would do more than teach you how mortals live. A brother would set you free to see the world, not cowardly sneak into your cell to teach you about it.”
“...Don’t care about that,” Liv said earnestly. “I want you to be my brother. If ... blood only...stopping us, then…” He lifted his hand and bit hard into his thumb, despite Maipsatenkka’s complaints. Blood trickled out of the wound.
“Stop! Your blood is more precious than mine,” Maipsatenkka said, then sighed, and acquiesced. To Langa’s surprise, when he bit his hand, the blood that flowed was a lighter shade of red, almost purple. The two of them linked thumbs, blood mixing. “If this is what you truly want, then from today onwards, I will be your den-brother, Liv. I promise that I will find a way to set you free.”
Liv’s face broke into the first genuine smile Langa had seen on his face. “I have a brother,” he said with delight.
Langa was sure that the pained expression on Maipsatenkka’s face mirrored his own, except his was mixed in with anger.
Maipsatenkka cleared his throat and stood up. “I don’t have much time,” he said. “Let’s practice the Third Stance of The Veskka Sword.”
Liv hastily stood up and took on a fighting stance. Before Langa could watch the lesson, he felt something pulling him away as the air in front of him shimmered. The scene dissolved suddenly, and Langa found himself standing inside a large temple.
The ancient temple walls were made of black rock, and so were the seats inside. It was filled with multiple dragonkin and demonkin. One of the dragonkin sat on a rock chair much higher than everyone else, and she looked different from them too. She had blue hair and blue scales just like Liv, but both her eyes were red, and the scales covered her whole body. The similarities in their features led Langa to conclude that she was Liv’s grandmother, even though she did not look a day over forty.
There were around five or six dragonkin sitting at the front, but everyone else was a demonkin, and there was a clear separation between the two races. None of the demonkin were seated; instead, they all stood watching the stone altar where, to Langa's chagrin, Liv was tied up. This memory had to have taken place a few years after the last because he looked older.
Langa could see Maipsatenkka sitting in the space between the dragonkin and demonkin, looking up at the altar with sorrowful eyes at Liv.
It was hard for Langa to stomach the fact that Liv's wrists were bloody from the metallic ropes that bound him to the stone pillar in the centre of the temple. It seemed as though the scales on his wrists had been plucked away, and not gently. He had a beautiful, scaly blue wing on his back, but even with that, he couldn’t break free and fly away from the demonkin who surrounded him.
"Kungsadu," The demonkin chanted in a strange language, their voices carrying through the air like a song. The mavale holding Liv lit up again as they hissed. "Spawn of the devil. Your blood shall be our remittance for letting you live."
Liv's body convulsed with pain as the demonkin priestess, a beautiful woman in red robes, stepped forward from the horde. The chants grew louder the more she neared the altar. She approached Liv, holding a pair of large shears made from the same mavale material binding Liv’s wrists, the same material that the bars in his cell had been made of.
The demonkin circled him like vultures; their whispers echoed off the temple walls, chanting "Abomination! Abomination!" The sound was deafening, and it seemed to force Liv's mood to plummet even more.
Liv looked up, and only Langa could see the tremble in his body. What he showed his captors were determined eyes and an unflinching expression. Langa hated this. He hated that he had to watch powerlessly while his friend was hurt, unable to help him.
"You were never meant to exist," the priestess proclaimed in a loud voice, gripping Liv's wing. "The devil lied and lured the Veskka Nest’s princess away from the path of The Living Wing. He tempted her with worldliness and made her forsake The Sun God. The devil defiled our princess and gave life to his cursed spawn. Kungsadu. A monster like you should never see the light of day.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Liv's scream tore through the silence as the shears sliced through his wing, and with each cut, feathers fell to the ground, stained with his blood. He screamed, the sound burning through the temple from his throat. Another demonkin held a chalice, collecting the purple blood that poured from Liv.
Strands of karma flowed from his body with his blood. Suddenly, the point of view changed, and Langa's ghostly form could feel the way Liv’s mana surged within him, a chaotic storm of energy that threatened to break free of him. He could feel the excruciating pain that ran through Liv's body, igniting his demonic aura. He could feel the dark power stirring within Liv, making him writhe like a caged beast, desperate to be free. His vision blurred, and he bit down on his lip until he tasted blood, trying to hold back the inferno raging inside.
<
"No..” Liv gasped, blood and tears mingling with the sweat on his face. "I won't... can't..” There was nervous shuffling in the temple as the demonic aura surged within Liv's body, almost tangible in the air.
“Be not afraid, brothers. The Living Wing's ring and the mavale shackles are enough to suppress his mana and, by extension, his demonic aura,” the priestess assured them. “Rejoice, brethren, and denounce The Demon Reaper as the devil he is! Embrace our true goddess, The Living Wing!” she shouted, filling the chalice with Liv's blood.
Langa felt Liv’s pain as if it were his own. He hated seeing Liv's desperate struggle for his mortal soul against the devil's karma. He was desperate to free him, to do anything to take Liv's pain away.
A soft, quiet voice broke through to Langa. “I used to pray to her, you know. The Living Wing.”
Karma strands yanked Langa out of Liv's body, and his point of view shifted again, and he turned to find a different version of Liv, fully grown, in a ghostly form standing beside him, watching his younger self's blood get passed around. It seemed he could converse with this version of Liv’s soul.
“I prayed that she would have mercy on me and kill the demonic aura I was born with," he continued. "I used to pray that I could become a normal dragonkin, not the devil's spawn.”
The anger in Langa’s heart escalated at those words. That was not a prayer a child should be making. No child deserved to be made to feel like he should deny himself and be something that society deemed normal.
“And your father just watched all this bullshit happen?” Langa asked, his voice barely steady.
“He wanted me to give in to him, to allow the demonic aura to consume me so I could be more like him,” he said. “You can see his demonic spirit urging me on. Besides, why would he care about my blood being spilt? That is what demigods are born to do, after all.”
“What?” Langa asked incredulously.
Sure enough, as young Liv cried out in pain, a demonic spirit came into form beside him, telling him to destroy everything in the temple. The aura inside him snarled, creating an ugly sound that filled his mind with dark thoughts. <
Langa could see everything through the eyes of his ghostly self, yet he could feel what Liv was feeling. For all intents and purposes, a part of him was Liv. He could feel the demonic spirit urging him, begging him to set it free, begging him to destroy everything, begging him to let go of the control he was clinging to. But Langa could also feel Liv's resolve as he refused. He didn't want to become like his father, a demon who revelled in chaos and destruction. He fought against the urge, his mortal side clinging desperately to control.
Meanwhile, Liv's soul watched the demonkin who drank his blood and they seemed to be in bliss.
“The blood of a demigod is the most coveted sacrifice in the entire infinite multiverse, especially if the mortals sin. The demigod has to be willing to give up their life to atone for their godly parent’s people, of course. Demigods spilling their blood and giving up their lives for their godly parent's people has been going on for billions of years. Most of the demigods come back to life at least once if they have enough Faith. The experience of self-sacrifice for the sins of others helps demigods to control their divine karma a bit more, you know. They get in touch with their godly side,” Liv explained. “Did you not have demigods in your world?”
Langa knew a similar story from back home, but it had been preached as a message of hope and salvation for many people, his sister included. He didn't like it when it was happening to his friend, though. “This is wrong!” Langa shouted. “If they volunteer for it, that’s fine! Does this look right to you? You didn’t want this!” He gestured to the screaming Liv who was bleeding out, half his wing severed.
"Deep in my soul, I always regretted my choice on this day," Liv said. "But what would you have done? Would you have made a different choice? Show me a better path."
The karma strands pulled him in again, and Langa found himself corporeal. Liv was in so much pain that Langa couldn’t bear it. He rushed towards the altar and crouched down in front of the writhing Liv, and the entire temple froze as if time was suspended, like when his attribute was active. Langa placed a hand on Liv's shoulder since he could touch him now. Being thrust back ceremoniously into Liv's perspective again was jarring, especially with the demonic spirit hovering around him like a tempting snake, trying to get him to break. He was corporeal, right in front of Liv, but he was also feeling what he felt.
Liv's body shook with pain and fear, his wing now hanging loosely behind him. Langa could feel the power building inside Liv, a terrifying force on the verge of being released. The demonic spirit that fuelled the aura inside him roared louder. <
“You’re not helping!” Langa shouted at The Demon Reaper’s spirit. Langa couldn't think straight, but he knew one thing: if he truly was Liv in this situation. He would have let go a long time ago. He was all for control when it was warranted; in fact, he was constantly trying to maintain that in himself. But after the atrocities he’d seen done to Liv, he wanted him to murder all these people.
"Liv," Langa said as gently as he could from his crouching position in front of the boy. "You have to let go. Use your power to save yourself."
“Who are you?” Liv asked in a small voice. He looked up, finally able to see him.
“I’m Langa. I’m someone who doesn't want to see you in pain. I’m someone who cares about you,” Langa said as softly as he could.
“Cares?" Liv asked as if the concept was foreign to him. "You seem familiar... like I know you, but...Are you my brother too?”
“No," Langa said with a smile. "I’m your friend.”
His curiosity seemed to quell the pain a little. Liv looked at him with wide eyes. “What’s a friend?”
"There are different types of friends." Langa squeezed Liv's shoulder. He smiled, even though it pained him that he didn’t know something so basic. “But I am the kind of friend who will always protect you, no matter what you do. It doesn't matter who I'm protecting you from—gods, demons, dragonkin, yourself—I won't let anyone hurt my friends. Do you trust me, Liv?”
"Even against Father?" Liv asked, his eyes wide, his breath slow. "Will you protect me?"
"Yes, I will," Langa told him, and it was true. He wasn't someone who went around looking for trouble, but there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect his loved ones. "Consequences be damned, Liv. Set yourself free. Destroy the people hurting you. You have the power."
"But... I can't. I can't control it," Liv said, shaking his head, the pain where his wing used to be intensifying as blood poured out of him, even in the frozen time. "The demonic aura is a divine skill that I was born with. Because my karma is too low to contain it, it grows erratic. I can't let it go... I'll kill them all... I can't control it."
“So what? Look what they’ve done to you!” Langa said, pointing at the blood and the frozen demonkin drinking it.
“I know. I want to destroy them, but I can’t hurt him,” Liv said, looking across the room. “My den-brother.”
Maipsatenkka's frozen face was full of sorrow, but Langa did not empathise with him. “He’s just standing there. Watching! He’s not helping you!” he shouted. "If he truly cared about you, he would have freed you a long time ago!"
Liv lifted his hands. "Maipsatenkka switched out one of my shackles, so I could set myself free from the mavale shackles without it messing with my mana. As much as I want revenge against them, if I give myself over to the demonic aura, it will take everything from me. The divine demonic power will stir up the karma inside me, and nothing of me will be left behind,” he said. “It would kill everyone...including him. I can't control it, Langa.”
Langa's ghostly hand tightened around his shoulder. "You can, Liv. I know you can. You have to trust yourself. I know you have the strength to control it, because I've seen you stop yourself from overusing your aura. I'll never say this to your face, but your strength inspires me, and I hate that you always have to hold back. I'm here with you, so let me help you."
"Really?" Two eyes looked up at him, one red, one glowing purple. Those two mismatched eyes looked at Langa with so much desperation that he paused, trying to think of a way to help Liv control his mana. When he was using his magic, he thought of an electric circuit, with his body as the wire and magic as the current. He had to find a way to explain it to Liv.
“There is life in your mana,” Langa said. He could always feel the breath of life in magic spells. “That demonic aura is a divine skill that comes from your father, but it is yours. Let go, but hold on to your mortality. Let the life inside you hold on to your den-brother's heart. Let me be your anchor point, and will the life inside your mana not to hurt the one you care about. Destroy everything but him. Use your life, burn your willpower, Liv. I know you can.”
Liv trembled and nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to be like him," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Langa let go of Liv's shoulder and took his hand, squeezing it in his, a comforting pressure. "You're not like your father, Liv. You're strong enough to resist him. You're better. Let me guide you. Close your eyes." He would do for Liv what Tonare had done for him.
Liv closed his eyes, focusing on Langa's voice. He let a calmness wash over him, even as the demonic aura inside him roared in frustration, but he clung to Langa's presence like a lifeline. Langa felt his karma intertwine with Liv's as a steady, anchoring force that tempered the chaotic aura within him. Slowly, he felt the demonic aura start to flow, barely contained like water in a leaking pipe and then Liv let go. The mana surged through him, and a flood of dark red fluid waves burst out of him, engulfing the temple in a blinding red light. Time started up again, and the ground shook violently.
The demonkin priestess backed away, her eyes wide with terror. With a scream, Liv freed the karma inside of him, giving power to the demonic aura, a wave of red fluid that kept moving outward, eating through anyone who came into contact with it like acid. The screams of the gathered demonkin who'd been closest to Liv were filled with the agony of fear. They were in severe pain as their lives were consumed, fuelling the wave which increased the force of its power and began breaking the temple.
The walls crumbled, the ceiling collapsed, and the dragonkin sitting at the high seats were thrown back, the aura overwhelming them so fast that their bodies were lifeless before they even hit the ground. The storm of aura raged, tearing through the temple and leaving nothing but ruins in its wake. When the light faded, Liv was swaying unsteadily in the rubble of the temple. Nearly all dragonkin and demonkin lay lifeless on the ground, their bodies unrecognisable.
Liv’s grandmother was the only one from the high seats remaining alive. She stood up and raised her hands to cast another protection spell over herself, but it was too late. The demonic spirit that had been egging Liv on earlier tore out of him with a wail, and the red, consuming energy ripped into the den-mother. The demonic aura filled her body and tied her hands together. Liv surrendered himself fully to his father’s power, the dark energy raging through him like a tidal wave. Dark purple scales erupted across his arms and crept up his face, a physical manifestation of the unimaginable divine demonic aura now burning within him. Langa knew he had to release this power upon his grandmother before it consumed him from the inside.
A cloud of red fluid began to swirl around her body, rapidly expanding and merging with the dragonkin's body. Streams of red liquid oozed from her eyes, resembling bloody tears. Liv's purple eye burnt intensely as he regarded the dragonkin unflinchingly. Her agony did not stir any pity or sorrow within him. Instead, after everything she had put him through, her screams satisfied him. The red fluid continued to flow out, syphoning away her life force until her body withered and shrivelled. Her life was extinguished, and she collapsed lifelessly on the shattered ground. Liv’s purple scales receded, and his mortal form returned to normal.
Liv sank to his knees, what remained of his wing drooping, his strength spent. He had controlled his power, but at what cost? The temple was destroyed, the demonkin dead. He looked around at the devastation, the bodies of the demonkin scattered among the rubble. He felt no joy in their deaths, only resolve. They had tried to destroy him, but in their cruelty, they had only made him stronger.
Everything was gone, turned into rubble, except one. One person stood unharmed amid all this destruction. It was as if the world around him had gone up in flames, and only he remained untouched by them. Maipsatenkaa stood alone, not a scale on his body out of place.
“I didn’t hurt him,” Liv whispered wearily. “And I didn’t fully transform. I controlled it.” He had not become the monster he feared. He had not lost himself to the darkness.
Langa smiled at him. “Yes, you did. That was well done.”
“It’s all thanks to you,” he said, looking up at him.
“No.” Langa shook his head. “You controlled it. All I did was guide you through it.”
“I wish this was what happened,” he said quietly. “If I’d let go and freed myself, then I wouldn’t have lost control later. Then I wouldn't have destroyed everything. Then I wouldn’t have killed them all. Then he wouldn’t hate me so much.”
"Dwelling on the past only makes it harder to move on," Langa said. "Learning to control how much of your past you allow to influence you is a skill I wish I had too. All you need to do is remember how you controlled it this once, and it will be easier next time."
“I don’t want to lose this feeling again.” Liv’s pleading eyes looked up at him. “Will you continue guiding me?”
“I told you, I’m your friend. Of course, I will,” Langa told him honestly.
“You promise?” Liv's ghostly soul looked both doubtful and hopeful, and Langa knew it would take work to wipe away that doubt.
“I promise.”
"You helped me, and you were my first friend," he said. "I’ve never trusted anyone before, but you've shown me what trust can do. Thank you, Langa.”
Langa smiled as a door appeared behind Liv's ghostly soul.
[Congratulations! You have earned the trust of Liv’Kungsadu’s soul. Proceed through the door for the final part of the trial]