Theodore sat up abruptly, his chest heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile. His eyes darted around the room, the warm glow of the evening sun spilling in through the curtains. For a moment, he was disoriented, unsure if he was still in the dream or back in the real world.
Belial, who had been sitting nearby, leaned closer, his sharp eyes scanning Theodore's face with concern. "What happened, my lord? You were restless in your sleep, and I was about to wake you."
Theodore took a deep breath, wiping the sweat off his brow. Fragments of the dream—the field, his grandmother, the book, and the strange man—flooded his mind. "It was… nothing. Just a strange dream," he muttered, avoiding Belial's piercing gaze.
Belial raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "A dream that left you drenched in sweat and gasping for air? Forgive me, my lord, but that doesn't sound like 'nothing.'"
Theodore waved him off, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. "It doesn't matter. I'm awake now." He walked over to the window, staring out at the horizon, his hands gripping the windowsill. (What was that? Was that really Grandma? And who was that man from the book? Why now?)
Belial didn't push further but remained attentive. "If it's troubling you, you can tell me. Or, if you need time, I'll be here when you're ready to speak."
Theodore turned, his face still pale but composed. "Belial… have you ever felt like the past you've forgotten is trying to reach you?"
Belial tilted his head, curious. "The past? I've lived long enough to forget many things, yes. But if something from my past truly wanted to reach me, I imagine it wouldn't knock politely."
Theodore chuckled dryly, though his mind was still spinning. "Yeah, mine isn't exactly knocking either. It's kicking down the door." He paused, his fingers tapping against the windowsill. "What if the truth isn't something I want to know?"
Belial's expression softened, a rare moment of earnestness from the demon. "The truth doesn't care about what we want, my lord. But it's better to face it than let it fester in the dark. Ignoring it won't make it go away."
Theodore nodded slowly. (Belial's right. Whatever's happening, I can't afford to ignore it. Not with everything at stake.)
Belial watched him for a moment before stepping back. "Shall I prepare some tea, my lord? It might help calm your nerves."
Theodore shook his head. "No, not now. I need to think." After a pause, he added, "Belial… do you happen to know anything about the book inside my body?"
"Book?"
"Yes, the book. Its body is made of flesh and wrapped in chains. The old man told me it was crafted from the flesh of the God of Shadows. It fused inside me, and that's how I became tied to the temple and started using his powers."
Belial hesitated. "Did he tell you that?"
"Yes. He said it's why my powers are far more potent than those of a regular dark mage."
Belial nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of Theodore's words. He walked over and sat beside him. "You see, my lord, I don't clearly know what book you're talking about. But that old man… he has all sorts of secrets. It's why I've never been able to trust him completely. Unfortunately, I can't do much about it because he's the one who made me what I am."
Theodore frowned. "Didn't you seek him out to turn you into a demon? Because you were a weak warrior and wanted to protect the God of Shadows?"
Belial chuckled, his voice tinged with bitterness. "That old man is skilled at weaving lies and truths together until you can't tell them apart."
"What do you mean, Belial?"
"Yes, I was once human, full of life and innocence. But my innocence disappeared after the gods took what was most important to me—my parents."
"What?" Theodore was shocked. (Does that mean Belial wants revenge too? Is that why he's helping me?)
"You see, my lord, I'm one of the first generation of humanity created by the gods. Back then, gods could communicate directly with mortals through my father, who was an… imperfect demigod."
"Why was he imperfect?" Theodore asked, his curiosity growing.
"Because the gods planned to create humans on this planet, not demigods or immortals. But when they used their power to create him, he was born with superhuman strength and other abilities."
"Wait, Belial… do you mean—"
"Yes, my lord. My father was the first human created by the gods."
Theodore was stunned. (So Belial's father was the first human? Is this connected to why the gods turned the God of Shadows into a forgotten god?)
Belial continued, his voice quieter now. "The old man turned me into a demon because of my father. My father used the heart of the goddess Borea as part of a pact—a promise to protect me. That's how the old man kept me safe, but he wouldn't allow my father near the temple. My father promised me he'd return one day and told me never to leave that place."
"But how did you become a demon?"
"Humans die eventually, my lord, but my father wasn't an ordinary human. He could live for centuries. I feared that if I waited too long, I'd never see him again. So I made a contract—offering my soul in exchange for strength to protect myself from the gods. But the price was steep. I lost everything. My memories of being human, my father's face… even my real human name."
"But how do you remember your father now?"
"Because I wrote it in a book," Belial replied. "A desperate attempt to cling to the promise I made to him."
Theodore hesitated, then asked, "Do you still believe your father is alive?"
Belial smiled bitterly. "To be honest, I've lost hope. But I can't shake the feeling that I'll see him again. Who knows? Maybe we've crossed paths countless times already."
His words hung in the air, heavy with both pain and longing.