The demon realm was a terrible place. Ianor hated it there but he had nowhere else to go. Azariel was gone. His homeland was gone. Everyone he knew was dead except for that traitor Venethan. Not one fairy had survived the fall according to Zarath, who had arrived mere moments after the cliff crumbled away.
The demons weren't exactly kind to him either. They resented him for being involved in the destruction of the fairy realm that was supposed to protect their faction.
No one was more unkind to him than himself though. Ianor's brain continued to torture him with guilt the longer he stayed alive. If only he had followed his instincts. If only, if only, if only…
Years passed. The demons around him and Maldine continued to age but he didn't. Zarath came to the conclusion that he was immortal after running a series of tests. His body was impossible to break.
