A Throne Built On Lies

The Demoness Deal.

Caelion had abandoned his attempts to depart. Not that he was contented with it. Since the underworld had shown that it would not happen again should he attempt to do so.

His arm was still burning. They were dark and alive and were sitting beneath his skin like a warning. Whenever he went too near the side of the throne hall, they throbbed a little.

So he stayed. But to remain was not to give up.

Caelion was standing close to the steps of the throne at the bottom, and was observing how the shadows were moving on the ground. Now they followed him. Not closely—but constantly.

“You respond to “me, Caelion said.

The shadows shifted a little.

Not random.

Responsive.

“you obey me, “he said.

This time there was no voice to answer him. But he felt it. The connection. Unwanted. Unfamiliar.bReal.

Caelion exhaled slowly. “Then listen carefully.”

He stepped forward.

“I need a way out.”

Silence. Then one of the spirits of the underworld took shape close to the hall.

“You already tried to leave, “the spirit said.

Caelion glanced at it. “And I was halted.”

“Correct.”

“Then I must have another means.”

“There is none.” The voice replied.

Caelion’s jaw tightened. “There is always another way.”

The spirit replied not. It merely stared at him. Caelion turned his head away, contemplating.

“Unless I can go away as this, “he said to himself, slowly, pointing at himself, “then I must cease to be this.”

The ghost leaned forward. “Clarify.”

“A disguise, “said Caelion. “Another shape. That which is not tied to this world.”

The spirit paused.

And said, “Such magic in this realm is foreign.”

Caelion frowned. “Where thence is it?”

The shadows were moved once more.

But this time. There was another thing that moved with them.

A presence. Different. Not silent. Not obedient. It was behind his back. Slow steps.

Deliberate.

“Well, “a new voice came in, amused, “this just got interesting.”

Caelion turned immediately. She had already arrived. Leaning against one of the newly-unproved pillars. She seemed out of place--and quite at home.

Nysera Vahl.

Her eyes were keen, with a slight glow of a deep red. Her black hair was long and hung down her shoulders, and her features were as full of confidence as they were not asking permission to be.

Caelion narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

Nysera smiled slightly. “Rude. I thought you would have been more dramatic.”

Caelion didn’t respond. Nysera made a few strides towards him. The shadows responded--but no longer as before. They didn’t obey her. But they didn’t stop her either.

“Nysera Vahl,” she said. “You can call me the helpful one . if you’re feeling generous.”

Caelion remained wary. “You are not of this place.”

Nysera lifted an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“God of deceit.”

That was too quick a reply.

Too easily.

Nysera watched him a little, and then smiled once more--this time with more severity.

“Oh,” she said. “That explains it.”

Caelion’s eyes narrowed. “Explains what?”

Nysera threw her head back. “You don’t feel like him.”

The room was quieted down.

The shadows responded a little.

Caelion didn’t move.

“Careful,” he said. “You’re making assumptions.”

Nysera made a step, undaunted. “No. I’m making observations.”

She went round him, examining him at all angles.

You can, she said. “The presence. The connection.”

She stopped in front of him again.

“But you’re not Vaelthar.”

Silence. The underworld spirits did not interfere. They watched. Caelion was gazing. “And what if I am?”

Nysera smirked. “Then you’re doing a terrible job of pretending.”

Caelion did not show a response. But he became more keen.

“Who sent thee? “he said.

Nysera laughed softly. “No one sends me anywhere.”

Her hands were clasped together. “I go where it is interesting.”

Caelion was examining her. Contrary to the spirits. Different from the gods. Unpredictable.

Dangerous.

“Why then are you here? “he said.

There was a slight extension of the smile of Nysera. “Since you desire something.”

Caelion didn’t deny it.

Nysera continued, “And I can give it to you.”

That got his attention.

Caelion’s voice lowered. “Say it clearly.”

Nysera bent forward a little.

“You want to leave.” Caelion breath got stuck in his throat.

Nysera straightened again. “And I can assist you to do that”.

The ghosts were in motion.

One of them came forward. “No outside interference is allowed.”

Nysera didn’t even look at it. “Calm down. I am not meddling.”

“She glanced over her shoulder at Caelion. “I’m offering a solution.”

Caelion crossed his arms. “There’s always a cost.”

Nysera smiled. “Now you think right.”

He didn’t respond. Nysera moved up another step, and spoke in a low voice. “I am able to construct a false identity. An identity that is not attached to this body. An identity that the world will not consider as enslaved.”

Caelion’s eyes narrowed. “A disguise.”

Nysera nodded. “Exactly.”

The ghost re-appeared. “This is a change which is not stable”.

Nysera scowled.

Caelion disregarded the spirit. “What’s the cost?”

Nysera’s expression didn’t change immediately.

Then she said it.

“You never get to remain in control.”

Caelion frowned. “Explain.”

Nysera shrugged slightly. “Such magic must have a balance. You will be attempting to place two identities into a single life. There will always be something attempting to rectify that.”

Caelion considered that.

“Meaning?” he pressed.

Nysera stared him out. “Meaning whenever the disguise betrays. it will not recover.”

The room was silent.

Caelion’s voice lowered. “What happens?”

Nysera smiled slightly.

“You die.”

No hesitation. No exaggeration. Just fact. Caelion looked her way.

“What breaks it?” he asked.

Nysera leant her head.

“Light,” she said.

Caelion frowned. “Be specific.”

Nysera smiled still more sharply. “Moonlight. The purest light.”

The word sank.

Nysera went on, “Even a second of direct exposure, and the spell is ruined: no recovery, no second chance.

Caelion turned his head away.

Thinking. Calculating. Then back at her.

“And you may do this, “he said.

Nysera nodded once. “Easily.”

The ghost talked once more. “Risk level: extreme.”

Nysera momentarily looked at it. “It is worth doing everything.”

Then she stared back at Caelion.

“Well?” she asked.

Caelion made no reply. He glanced about the hall. At the throne. At the shadows. In the spot where he could not go. Thence back at Nysera.

“What is it you get? “ he said.

Nysera smiled.

“There it is.”

She made a slight retreat, leaving him room.

“Simple,” she said. “Access.”

Caelion frowned. “To what?”

The eyes of Nysera shone.

“To you.”

That answer wasn’t detailed. But it was enough. Caelion didn’t like it. But he knew it. Nothing was free. This was his. He exhaled slowly.

“Do it,” he said.

Nysera’s smile widened.

“Good choice.”

She put up her hand.

The air changed instantly. Not as in the underworld. Different. Chaotic. Unstable.

Don’t stir, she said.

Caelion stayed still. Dark energy wrapped around him. Not aggressive. But invasive. It tugged at his body, re-fashioning, re-positioning, superimposing one thing on another.

The shadows were violent--but did not interfere.

Nysera drew her eyes and her face narrowed.

“Hold it,” she muttered to herself.

The magic tightened. Then clapped together. The pressure vanished. Caelion retreated a little. His body felt…

Different again. Light this time. He glanced down at his hands. Smaller. Normal.

Not like it used to be--but nearer.

Nysera brought down her hand.

“Done,” she said.

Caelion gazed at her. “Too quick, that was too quick.”

Nysera smirked. “You’re welcome.”

He tried his motion. No resistance. No burning. The relation was still to the underworld--but remote.

Muted.

It did, he said.

Nysera nodded. “For now.”

Caelion squinted a bit. “For now?”

Nysera came nearer.

“Keep in mind the rule, “she said.

Caelion didn’t respond. Nysera bent forward a little, her voice lower.

“So tell me, little god. how long can you live out of the light?”