Nael stopped short. A sigh slipped from his lips, and in that fleeting moment, something buried deep within him—something he'd always fought to keep hidden—quivered, as if struck at its very core.
"That word… it hits with a force I'd rather not feel," he thought, though he masked it from those around him.
Outwardly, his face held its usual calm, but inside, the walls that guarded his silence had fissured. The air, once heavy with despair and fury, now thrummed with the tension of a secret laid bare—a revelation potent enough to upend everything.
A shadowed presence. A memory that breathed. An indelible mark of a past he longed to escape, yet it lingered, pulsing in the darkest recess of his mind.
"A demon…" Elowen began, her voice soft and tinged with sorrow, as though she were weaving a tale worn thin by the ages. "To many, he's nothing more than that. A feared figure, a demon. But there was a time when he was something else. Something pure, untainted. Something everyone admired… before life reshaped him. He grew up different, singular among the masses. The world seemed his to claim, but those who gave him life wished him to learn what truly matters—to find peace with next to nothing."
She paused, her eyes glinting with a mix of pity and wistfulness.
"The son of two fair-skinned parents, he was born dark, with eyes that danced like the northern lights, shimmering with every color at once. And his hair… white with threads of black… simply enchanting."
Elowen spoke each detail as if brushing strokes onto a faded canvas, summoning the days when he lived with his mother—a woman whose golden hair seemed to cradle the sun's radiance. Her eyes, deep as rare jewels, were both mesmerizing and unnerving.
But he resembled no one.
"He was…" Elowen faltered, each word seeming to wound her as it emerged. "The most alive child to ever walk the earth. He absorbed every sound, every sight, every emotion. The world etched itself into him, as if his soul were a scroll for its every tale."
Until the day it all shifted.
"Suddenly, he was alone. Fortune turned its back. And in that instant, an angel fell… and became a demon."
Nael stood silent, the burden of pain mirrored in his unreadable gaze.
"He witnessed the worst in people. He bore wounds that sliced deep and crossed paths with someone who bent him, broke him from within. What remained was a demon who learned to crave power… but who also ended up betrayed."
A heavy silence fell, then Elowen pressed on, her voice steadier yet steeped in enigma:
"It was she, the one he held dearest, who molded him. An angel who saw the man he could become, who guided him toward purity. But that angel vanished. And the light he once carried, which brightened all, faded into a demon hungering for power, pain, and betrayal. This demon found others like him. And once more, he was deceived."
She fixed her gaze on Nael, who stood motionless, his eyes locked on a void that seemed to swallow everything.
"You think he's seen the worst? Well, this demon never found his way back. He never felt strong enough to rise again. Today, he's merely a shadow of what he once was."
Nael said nothing, but the anguish in his eyes roared.
"Each word of hers opens an old wound," he thought, bearing the bitterness of a past that refused to fade.
The silence swelled, thick and sharp, as the echo of that ancient story rippled through the room, tracing fates and revealing that sometimes, the truest monster dwells within.
"And this creature… decided he would no longer hide. He would no longer be what others demanded. He resolved to awaken."
Elowen's voice was a whisper laced with resentment and resignation, each syllable hanging heavy in the still air.
"But when he awoke… he wasn't the same. He wasn't just a creature. He was the complete demon. And all he wanted was to reclaim what he'd lost."
She halted, her eyes gleaming with a pain almost palpable, then continued:
"He met a rebellious princess, a wild spirit who treated the world as her toy. To her, he was a mere diversion, something to amuse herself with in a meaningless game."
Nael remained still, his expression unyielding as the tale unfolded. In his mind, old scars murmured:
"She never truly saw me. I was just a fragment of a past she wished to forget…"
Elowen pushed forward, her voice quaking with restrained emotion:
"But he, this slumbering demon, saw in her a chance to seize something that had already slipped away. Even when he realized he was but a distant echo to her, he let himself be fooled. He fell in love, knowing he was just another piece in her cold grasp."
Nael's eyes didn't flicker, but the shadow in them deepened, unearthing a pain he sought to bury.
"And he let go of everything. He let the dream slip away… again," Elowen murmured, as if each word carried a shard of her hope.
"He wanted to be more than the dark figure everyone saw. He wanted to be something greater. But she cast him aside, as if he were nothing. And he didn't seek revenge. No. That wasn't for him. Revenge is for those who can't endure… and he always endured. He always will."
At that moment, Elowen—unaware of how deeply she stirred buried feelings—concluded:
"And so he persists… this dormant presence. To many, he is the demon incarnate. But those who peer beneath see he still bears a fragment of that pure soul. The one who once had everything. Now, only an outline of what was endures."
The silence that followed was nearly tangible, pierced only by the slow tread of Nael's footsteps ascending the stairs. Each step bore the weight of an irrevocable path. Yet something made him pause. It was Elowen's voice, drifting into a whisper lost in the air—each word cutting like a blade through the sign-laden void.
Nael felt the truth of her tale resonate within him.
"Perhaps it's the weight of the past that won't release me," he thought, as the room's stillness bore witness to the endless clash between what had been and what could never be left behind.
"This isn't just a story," Elowen repeated, her voice thick with tangible sorrow and a weary irony. "It's the story of a demon. No… of something crueler. Of someone who lost all he was before he even grasped what loss meant."
Nael wavered. His usually resolute form stilled for a heartbeat. He didn't glance back, but his rigid shoulders betrayed that Elowen's words struck true.
"This demon…" she went on, her tone grave and resolute, each word a deliberate strike. "Somehow, he made peace with his family. But in doing so, he became something worse than he'd imagined. He became the hunter of shadows, the predator of predators… until, ironically, he turned into the shadow he'd sworn never to be."
Nael stood rooted. His hand gripped the stair railing, knuckles whitening as if restraining a tempest within.
"Do you know what he wanted?" Elowen asked, her voice a quiet challenge. "He wanted a simple life, like anyone dreams of. But fate, cruel as it is, mocked him and flung a rebellious princess into his path. A woman who toyed with everything and everyone, who saw in that slumbering soul only a pastime to discard."
At this, Elowen let a bitter smile slip, noting Nael's shoulders stiffen further.
"This creature… found in her all he thought he needed. Or so he believed. But to her, he was never more than a fleeting amusement. A passing game. And when he realized he was falling in love, she moved on to another… because that's how she treated people. Because, deep down, he was never more than a toy that wore out."
"And what did he do?" Nael murmured, his voice so faint it nearly dissolved into the silence.
Startled by its softness, Elowen answered with care, as if cradling something fragile:
"He decided to awaken. He realized hiding who he was brought no peace. And when this creature awoke… he awoke fully. He left her behind. Erased her from his mind. He didn't even think of revenge."
Nael finished, his voice icy with disdain:
"Because revenge is for the weak."
Elowen nodded, her bitter smile firming.
"Exactly. He was many things, but weak was never one of them. And then, he sought what truly mattered. He chased the truth of who he was. And what he found… was something no creature, no shadow, should face."
The silence returned, dense and oppressive, but Elowen sliced through it with a voice low and shadowed:
"He found his father's kin. A realm where beasts and shades intertwined, where death was just another Tuesday. And among the beasts, his father was… the outlier. The living shame. A man who didn't come close to earning the name of shadow."
Nael listened, each word landing like a painful truth. As he climbed the stairs, his footsteps reverberated, carrying memories of a past that wouldn't fade—not even with the awakening of a soul yearning to recall its former self.
Nael tilted his head slightly, signaling her to proceed.
"And what did he do with his father?" she asked, her voice woven with grief and suppressed rage.
"He destroyed him. Not with death, but with something crueler. He stripped him of all that made him a man. It wasn't out of pity or respect, but for the sheer joy of watching him suffer, every second, every breath."
The air grew cold and thick as Elowen pressed on, unrelenting:
"And then, he uncovered something worse. That his father, that hollow man, had struck a bargain. He traded her life for his own freedom… the princess, his sister, even his father's daughter."
Nael turned, his eyes flashing like blades in the dimness.
"And what did he do?" he asked, his voice a frigid edge slicing the quiet.
"He burned everything," Elowen replied swiftly, her tone dry, a whisper bearing finality. "He left nothing. He ended it all—everyone. Billions of lives vanished because he willed no one to remain. They say he lost his mind. Neither friends nor foes. Neither the righteous nor the wicked. He became his own end."
Nael descended a step, his footfalls ringing like a dark portent, setting the tale's rhythm.
"And in the end?" he asked, as if already sensing what lay amid the ashes.
"He died," Elowen said with a bitter smile. "He took a third of the world with him. A third of all that existed… and vanished. But he died alone. Because, in the end, he was just a creature that knew how to break."
Nael stopped before her. His cold eyes locked with hers, and he spoke softly, firmly:
"And what did you take from this story?"
Elowen hesitated, summoning strength to steady her voice:
"That one must always be vigilant and have someone—friends or family—to hold you back."
Nael raised an eyebrow, unmoving.
Elowen's voice quivered faintly, as if the truth rattled her.
"And you?"
"Never trust friends…" Nael began. "Fear family more than enemies. Because no one wounds you deeper than someone who acts out of love or blood."
Elowen shivered slightly but held her ground, her gaze fixed on a void bearing a harsh, final lesson.
"And that's where true betrayal lies," she thought, as the shadows of the past melded with the present's cold light.
Elowen trembled but stood tall, bracing against the weight of what loomed ahead.
"And why did he die?" Nael asked, his tone blending grace with a hint of mockery.
"Because he had no one to hold him back…" she replied, her voice fading, laden with ache.
"And why did he die? For you," he pressed, her eyes widening with shock and torment. "He was untouchable. He achieved what he wanted."
Nael smiled, but it was a dry, merciless curve.
"Because he was weak," he said, the word falling like an unyielding verdict.
Elowen tried to mask her unease, but a desperate thread slipped into her question:
"Is that all? Strong and weak?"
Nael leaned closer, his eyes cutting into hers like honed ice.
"Yes," he replied, leaving no room for doubt.
Without another word, he turned away. His footsteps echoed as he descended the final step with a near-sacred cadence.
"Now tell me, who told you this story?" he asked lightly, his voice threaded with secrecy.
"A friend," Elowen said, her voice faltering, each word battling fear.
"Interesting, she must care for you deeply to share that," Nael remarked, his brow creasing, his gaze now promising peril. "I liked the story. I'll give you a gift."
Before Elowen could react, Nael moved—swift as a wolf. The lights dimmed, the air thickened with a tangible force. His smile twisted into something unreadable, teetering between vow and menace.
In an instant, all halted.
The room now lay steeped in despair, a weight pressing on every shoulder. At its heart, Elowen's body sprawled, marred and contorted by an ancient venom no one knew how to mend.
Nael stood, regarding her with more weariness than concern.
Around them, all were still, as if the air had forgotten to flow. Then he raised his hand and, with a voice that cleaved the silence like a blade, proclaimed the end.
The chamber drowned in a choking quiet, broken only by Elowen's feeble moans. Her venom-ravaged form gave off a rank, rotting stench, forcing even the steadfast to recoil, uncertain.
Nael approached with measured steps, each one tolling like an inescapable warning. His cold eyes swept the room with ruthless calm. When he paused beside Elowen, he knelt slowly, as if his presence alone had already sealed all fates.
"There's no forgiveness for those who drown in their own rancor," Nael thought, his hand brushing her frail frame, locking in the silence that cloaked the space—where pain and retribution wove an inevitable close.
Wordlessly, Nael lifted his hand over her broken, poisoned body. His slender fingers traced the air, sketching invisible patterns.
[Poison Extraction]
Abruptly, a viscous, vile substance—dark green streaked with black—oozed from Elowen's skin. It was as if the venom, furious, was torn free and shaped into a living orb in Nael's grasp.
Murmurs rippled through the room.
"This isn't possible!" a man cried from the rear, his voice thick with disbelief.
"That venom…" Aunt Yang Mei said, her eyes wide. "No one has been able to stop it since ancient times. Not even the best healing methods could handle it…"
But Nael's face remained impassive, emotionless as he held the venom orb. With a flick, he cast it aside, and it crumbled to dust, scattering like ashes on the breeze.
"Even if this helps, she's already disfigured. Nothing can restore what she's lost," Yang Mei said, her voice heavy with sorrow.