As dawn broke over the Blighted Peaks, Silas and Emma approached Malachar's.
The ominous structure loomed before them, dark and foreboding against the stormy sky.
"Well," Silas muttered, "I guess this is it. Time to face the hordes of undead, flesh golems, and whatever other nightmares await us."
Emma nodded grimly, her hand on the hilt of her dagger. "Remember the plan. We sneak in, find my sister, and get out as quickly as possible."
They crept towards the fortress, every nerve on edge, expecting an attack at any moment. But as they reached the main gate, they found it... open. And unguarded.
Silas frowned. "Okay, this feels like a trap."
They cautiously entered the courtyard, prepared for an ambush.
Instead, they found it eerily empty.
No undead warriors, no flesh golems, not even a stray zombie.
"Maybe they're all inside?" Emma whispered, looking confused.
As if on cue, they heard a commotion coming from within the fortress. But it wasn't the sound of battle or dark rituals. It sounded like... crying?
Exchanging bewildered glances, Silas and Emma made their way towards the source of the noise.
They found themselves outside a large hall, its doors slightly ajar. Peering inside, they were met with a sight that defied all their expectations.
In the centre of the room sat an evil-looking man who could only be Malachar the Vile, but he was far from the terrifying necromancer they'd expected.
Instead, he was sobbing uncontrollably, his face buried in his hands. Beside him stood Lyra, looking utterly lost as she awkwardly patted his shoulder.
"What. The. Hell." Silas said flatly.
Emma rushed forward. "Lyra! You're okay!"
Lyra looked up, relief flooding her face. "Emma! Oh, thank goodness you're here. I... I don't know what to do."
"What happened?" Emma asked, eyeing the crying Malachar warily.
Lyra sighed. "It turns out Malachar was possessed by a demon. When he "imbibed" my celestial bloodline, it somehow purified him and exorcised the demon. But now he's... well..."
"A blubbering mess?" Silas offered, approaching cautiously.
Malachar looked up, his eyes red and puffy. "I'm a monster!" he wailed. "All those terrible things I did... I can't live with myself!"
Silas stared at the scene before him, feeling completely out of his depth. This was not the epic battle he'd been dreading. This was a situation that called for... therapy?
Suddenly, a distant memory surfaced. Years ago, back on Earth, Silas had gone through therapy himself, learning to cope with his feelings of inadequacy and his struggle to be content with a normal life - and it really helped.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Silas muttered, then stepped forward. "Hey, uh, Malachar. Want to talk about it?"
What followed was the most surreal therapy session Silas had ever been part of. He found himself using techniques he'd learned years ago in his own sessions, guiding Malachar through his guilt and self-loathing.
"Remember," Silas said, feeling slightly ridiculous, "those actions weren't really you. You were possessed. The real you is the one who feels remorse now."
Malachar sniffled. "You... you really think so?"
"I know so," Silas replied, surprising himself with his sincerity.
Just as it seemed Malachar was having a breakthrough, something unexpected happened.
A dark mist suddenly erupted from Malachar's mouth, the last vestiges of the demon that had possessed him.
Before anyone could react, the mist shot towards Silas, enveloping him. Silas felt his body lift into the air, completely out of his control.
"Oh, come on!" he managed to yell before he was violently flung across the room.
What followed was a chaotic scene as Silas's possessed body was dragged through the fortress, smashing into walls, breaking furniture, and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
All the while, Silas was acutely aware that he'd be feeling every bit of this later.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of being used as a human wrecking ball, Silas felt the demon's presence leave him.
He crashed to the floor, surrounded by broken furniture and concerned faces.
"Are you okay?" Emma asked, helping him up.
Silas groaned. "Physically? For now. Mentally? I'm going to need so much therapy after this."
Malachar approached, looking both grateful and guilty. "I... I don't know how to thank you. You've freed me from my demons, quite literally."
Silas glared at him. "Yeah, well, next time maybe warn a guy before your leftover demon decides to toss him around."
As the adrenaline wore off, Silas felt the familiar dread of knowing what pain awaited him. "For a minute there, this really seemed like it gonna be pain-free," he muttered. "And somehow, I still end up as the universe's punching bag."
He looked around at the destroyed room, then at the confused and concerned faces of Emma, Lyra, and the newly demon-free Malachar. Despite everything, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
"Well," he said, brushing off debris, "I guess this is what I get for trying to help."
As the dust settled and Silas caught his breath, Malachar looked at Silas with genuine gratitude. "I... I think I understand. It wasn't my fault. I was possessed, manipulated by that demon."
Silas nodded, still wincing from the phantom pains of his impromptu flight around the fortress. "That's right. The important thing is that you feel remorse and want to make amends."
A look of relief washed over Malachar's face, and for the first time, he managed a smile. "Thank you. I feel... lighter somehow. Like I can start to move past this."
However, Emma cleared her throat, her expression serious. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Malachar, but... you do realize you still have to go to jail, right?"
Malachar's smile faltered. "I... what?"
Emma nodded grimly. "Possessed or not, you still committed crimes. People were hurt. You need to face justice and make amends to society."
The former dark wizard's shoulders slumped as the reality of his situation sank in. "Oh... oh, you're right. I do need to atone for what I've done, don't I?"
Malachar nodded solemnly. "You're right, of course. I'll turn myself in to the authorities. It's the least I can do to start making things right."