The Damned Demon

Aira woke up with a ragged breath, her eyes snapping open wide with a jolt of panic. Her frail chest heaved as she quickly sat up, trembling in terror.

“Cedric…” she whispered desperately, her voice breaking as her gaze shot toward him, frantic and fearful. “Cedric!”

Relief visibly washed over her face as she saw him still safe, still unconscious, his chest rising and falling softly.

A trembling breath escaped her lips, tension loosening momentarily in her weak shoulders. But it was short-lived. Her attention quickly shifted to the tight bindings around her wrists—mana-powered handcuffs restraining her.

Eyes narrowing dangerously, she slowly raised her venomous glare toward the two demons standing before her, rage flickering once again to life.

Before she could speak, Naida calmly stepped forward, hands clasped patiently. “Before you kill us with your glare,” she began, her voice steady and gentle, “the fact that you and Cedric are still alive means that we didn’t come here with any nefarious intentions like you believed so far. Do you at least understand that now?”

Ravina, standing just behind Naida, pressed her lips together anxiously, watching Aira’s expression carefully.

Aira’s face twisted with rage as she clenched her jaw, shaking with fury and sorrow. Her voice was ragged, ancient, and full of bitter resentment, “You have any idea what you just did? You undid lifetimes worth of my effort!” she spat venomously. “I was so close… and yet you two claim to not have any nefarious intentions?!”

Her voice echoed in the chamber, hollow and aged yet full of raw anger and pain.

Ravina stepped forward cautiously, her voice gentle yet firm, “Please, Aira. We know you’ve been through a lot, more than anyone could bear. But we know what happens if you go down this road. You can’t beat the Damned One no matter how strong you become. You’ll only make everyone’s lives more miserable—especially yours and my father’s.”

Aira’s face twisted into a spiteful scowl, eyes darkening further as she scoffed bitterly. “Enough of your false pretenses, demon. As if you would know anything about my future when even I can’t see it clearly.”

“We do know,” Naida interjected softly yet resolutely, her eyes steady and solemn. “You could say we’re from the future—but not from this timeline. By now you must have realized you lived and unwittingly left tens of thousands of timelines or more.”

Aira paused, confusion breaking through her rage. “Left? Timelines?” she murmured, brows furrowing deeply.

Naida nodded slowly, calmly, eyes gentle yet sorrowful. “Each time you reset or went back to the past, it wasn’t really the past. It was a new timeline that gets created with a new universe after the old one rots away before eventually turning into what you know as the Shattered Dimension or the demon realm as people call it. While the others forgot, only you remembered because of your connection with time. You didn’t know the existence of this endless cycle of torment, did you? Haven’t you ever asked yourself why some things look similar to our world in Zalthor? Why our world’s moon and sun look similar or why each day is exactly the same length?”

Asher’s eyes were metaphorically shaking in shock and in realization. He also had asked these questions to himself long past as a human. But there was never really any answer other than people saying the demon realm was a crude and evil imitation of their realm. After all, devils were supposedly not that creative.

Aira’s eyes widened in shock and horror before narrowing sharply. “Nonsense,” she whispered in a fragile voice, glaring fiercely at Naida. “My universe eventually slipping into the Shattered Dimension and Earth becoming Zalthor? How dare you spout such ridiculous lies, especially about time…to me? You’re nothing but a mere trickster demon.”

Ravina clicked her tongue in frustration, stepping closer, “It’s not Earth. But can you stop being so cynical for just one second?” she demanded, “Just because you can manipulate time doesn’t mean you know everything about it.”

Her voice softened gently as she added, “How could you, when time has ravaged your soul to this extent and you don’t even realize it? But I know that the real Aira is still somewhere inside—kind, understanding, loving to those she cares about. Tell me honestly: do you think that Aira would ever do something like this to someone she loves?”

Ravina pointed gently yet firmly toward the unconscious Cedric, holding Aira’s gaze fiercely. “Look me in the eyes and tell me if I’m wrong.”

Aira stared deeply into Ravina’s dark golden eyes, her own trembling as tears suddenly welled.

Her wrinkled features softened, eyes growing distant, haunted by memories she could no longer clearly grasp.

“I… I don’t know…” she whispered brokenly, her voice fragile, almost childlike, “I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t even remember his smile…” Her voice cracked, tears slipping silently down her aged cheeks, hollow and lost.

Ravina’s gaze softened immediately, her chest aching as she watched Aira crumble. This was the woman her father loved first and after hearing so much about her and seeing her like this, made it hurt even more.

Naida quietly approached, crouching down gently before Aira. Her voice was gentle yet powerful. “Then let us help you remember it—remember who you are, and what you’re truly capable of. There’s still hope. Your soul isn’t lost yet. That’s precisely why your son sent us here… to help you, so you can help us save everyone from the Damned One’s judgment.”

Aira’s eyes snapped up, shocked, disbelieving. “My son?” she murmured hoarsely, shaking her head, “I never had a son… How could I ever have one when I can’t even protect him?”

From his silent vantage point, Asher was equally shaken. His heart hammered violently. Aira had a son? It was impossible; he would’ve known.

Naida calmly shook her head, her voice softly reassuring. “Not in this timeline, but in one of the many others. After countless failures and losses, after trying every method possible to outwit the Damned One, you finally realized you were approaching it wrong. So you chose to give birth to a new life—a life carrying Cedric’s blood, a life fated to help save us all. This life became the anchor the Damned One can’t interfere with, because it doesn’t break any of its rules. And this child… you will name him Arthur.”

Asher’s soul shuddered, breath catching in his throat as the name echoed deeply within him.

Arthur—the young man he’d mentored, trained, whom he felt a connection to… was truly his own flesh and blood?

Aira stared, shaking, her face paling further. Her voice trembled with confusion and desperation. “Arthur… my son? But how…?”

Naida solemnly nodded, her crimson eyes reflecting sincerity and an aching burden of her own as she stepped closer to Aira.

“I can’t explain how through words,” Naida began softly, her voice gentle yet firm, “but I can give you an idea through my own memories. Then you’ll understand clearly what to do.”

Aira furrowed her brows skeptically, eyes wary despite the flicker of hope kindled by their earlier words. Seeing her hesitation, Naida continued earnestly, “I know you have no reason to trust a demon. But apart from being a demon, we are not so different when it comes to loving someone…especially him. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even be here right now.”

Her words hung gently in the air, fragile yet powerful enough to slowly ease the wary hardness in Aira’s weary eyes.

“Now if you’ll allow me,” Naida said softly, gently stepping forward and reaching for the mana-powered handcuffs around Aira’s wrists, “let me show you. With your power and experience, you’ll immediately know if these memories are real or not,” Saying so, Naida released the handcuffs, the enchanted metal clanging quietly as they fell to the cold chamber floor, freeing Aira’s trembling, wrinkled hands.

Aira stared deeply into Naida’s earnest, unwavering gaze. Slowly, she gave a reluctant nod, a silent agreement passing between them.

Ravina stood silently aside, her heart swelling cautiously with hope, eyes brightening at the gentle trust blossoming between the two women.

Aira’s expression softened, a quiet sigh leaving her dry lips as she extended a frail hand toward Naida. Naida took it gently, firmly, intertwining her pale fingers with Aira’s aged ones, both women closing their eyes simultaneously.

Standing unnoticed at the periphery of this surreal interaction, Asher heaved a heavy sigh, shaken and overwhelmed by all he’d seen and heard. A storm of emotions brewed within him, violent yet silent.

To think he had interacted with his own son, Arthur, so many times, trained and mentored him, never once suspecting their true connection. A crushing shame and heart-rending regret gripped his soul, constricting his chest, filling it with a profound ache.

How Arthur must have lived, trapped under Derek’s twisted influence, unaware of his true parents’ love. The pain he must have felt, abandoned and alone, was more agonizing than anything Asher himself had endured. Rage flared bitterly within him, yet not at Derek or fate—but at himself, for never recognizing the truth, for being so blinded by his own suffering and anger.

He remembered Drogor’s solemn words, heavy with truth: He had never truly understood the sacrifices others made for him. Even Naida and Aira, whom he once thought had betrayed him, had hidden so many secrets. Yet he never cared enough to dig deeper, to uncover their true reasons, choosing instead to let his rage and pain consume him.

His heart clenched tightly, the bitterness of regret biting deeply into his very soul. He wished desperately he had done better—perhaps, he could have spared everyone so much suffering.

Or perhaps not.

Asher recalled their talk of the Damned One—a mysterious divine yet dark entity fixated on his endless torment.

His heart shuddered at the memory of Azi, the Hell Maiden’s cryptic riddle, its haunting meaning finally clear. The damned soul in her riddle was him all along, destined to endure endless cycles of suffering and loss.

Never before had he felt so much resentment towards an entity he never even personally met. The one responsible for all his and his loved ones’ suffering.

But just as he struggled under the weight of his anguish, Naida let go of Aira’s hand, both women opening their eyes simultaneously. The tension in the chamber shifted immediately. Aira’s aged eyes, previously filled with torment, now held calmness but carried an unspeakable burden.

“I now know what I should do,” Aira murmured firmly, her voice steady and resolute despite the fragility of age. Her gaze hardened, eyes narrowing with determined clarity.