17. Milkor

17

MILKOR

M eetha shoves me back, her eyes flashing with defiance. Before I can react, she slips the ring onto her finger.

Power surges through the room, a palpable force that sets my teeth on edge. The air crackles with energy, and I feel my elven form recoil instinctively.

"What have you done?" I snarl, but my words are drowned out by the deafening hum that fills the space.

Meetha's skin begins to glow, a radiant light emanating from within. Her dark eyes turn luminous, and her hair floats around her face as if suspended in water. The transformation is mesmerizing, terrifying.

No. It can't be.

Recognition hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You're a purna," I whisper, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

Meetha smiles, and it's no longer the coy grin of a seductress. It's ancient, knowing, powerful.

"Surprise," she says, her voice echoing with otherworldly resonance.

I take a step back, my mind reeling. How did I not sense it? How did I let myself be played by this... creature?

"You tricked me," I growl, feeling the demon inside me strain against its elven prison.

Meetha - or whatever she truly is - laughs. "Oh, Milkor. You were so easy to manipulate. So desperate for power, for freedom. Did you really think a simple human girl could resist you so easily?"

I lunge at her, my fingers itching to wrap around her throat. But she raises a hand, and I'm frozen in place, unable to move.

"Now, now," she tuts. "Is that any way to treat the one who holds your fate in her hands?"

Rage burns through me, hot and fierce.

"You were such a pleasure to curse the first time." Meetha's smile widens, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "Though I must say, you've made quite an entertaining pet these past few days."

I snarl, lunging at her again. My fingers brush her throat before an invisible force slams me back against the wall.

"Tsk tsk," she chides. "Still so impulsive. You haven't learned a thing, have you?"

"Release me!" I roar, struggling against her hold.

Meetha approaches, trailing her fingers along my jaw. "Oh, but we've only just begun, my dear demon. There's so much more I have planned for you."

Her touch burns, and I jerk away. "I'll kill you for this."

She laughs, the sound like tinkling bells. "You're welcome to try. But first, let me show you my true home."

With a wave of her hand, reality tears open beside us. A shimmering portal swirls into existence, its edges crackling with energy.

"After you," Meetha says, gesturing toward the portal.

As we step through, the world around us dissolves into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. The portal's energy pulsates around us, a maelstrom of light and shadow swallowing us whole. I'm helpless, a prisoner in my own body as Meetha guides us through the swirling vortex.

Time loses all meaning. We could have been traveling for seconds or centuries. The journey strips away my defenses, leaving me raw and exposed. Just as I think I can't bear it any longer, reality snaps back into focus.

We emerge into a realm that defies description, a place where the laws of nature bend to the will of the purna. The air shimmers with magic, and the ground beneath our feet shifts like living mercury. In the distance, impossible structures float in the air, defying gravity and logic.

I stagger, my elven form unaccustomed to the raw magic saturating the air. The landscape around us shifts and changes, a testament to Meetha's command over this place.

Meetha's eyes glimmer with mischief. "You're wondering how I fooled you for so long, aren't you?"

I nod grudgingly, my pride still stinging.

She holds up her hand, the Ring of the Deceiver glinting on her finger. "This little trinket isn't just for show, Milkor. It's a powerful artifact that can mask even a purna's true nature. I've been wearing it since the moment we met."

I frown, recalling our encounters. "But I've seen Jarvil wearing it. And I've seen you without it."

Meetha laughs. "Oh, you thought you did. Remember, the Ring chooses its wearer. It was just another of its tricks – creating illusions so real, even a demon can't see through them."

"You're not just a purna," I accuse, my voice a low growl. "You're something... more."

She laughs, the sound a symphony of celestial harmonies. "Oh, Milkor. You've only scratched the surface of my capabilities."

"If you're so powerful," I growl, "why did you need the ring at all?"

Meetha's expression grows serious. "Power isn't everything, Milkor. Sometimes, subtlety is key. This ring allows me to move undetected, to infiltrate places even I couldn't access otherwise. It's not just about fooling you – it's about maintaining the delicate balance of the realms."

She twirls the ring on her finger. "Besides, it has... other properties that even I'm still discovering. Properties that could be crucial for my plans."

I glare at her, my demonic nature bristling at being outmatched. "Why reveal this to me now?"

Meetha's gaze softens, though the power within her eyes remains a tempest. "Because you deserve to know the truth. Jarvil killed his real daughter, his greed and rage consuming him. I chose to take her place, to weave a web of vengeance for the innocents he wronged."

My mind reels at the revelation. "You... replaced her? But why?"

She steps closer, her presence a gravitational force. "To slowly unravel Jarvil's mind, to make him pay for his sins. He was yet another man who believed he could dominate and destroy without consequence."

I grit my teeth, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. "And I played right into your hands."

A smirk plays on her lips. "Your return was unexpected, I'll admit. But you were the perfect catalyst to accelerate Jarvil's downfall."

"But how did you replace Jarvil's daughter without anyone noticing?" I ask, still struggling to comprehend the scope of her deception.

Meetha's eyes cloud with a hint of sadness. "Jarvil's real daughter died when she was just a child. He was too drunk to remember what he'd done, and the poor girl's mother would have been destitute."

She waves her hand, and an image appears – a small, dirty hovel on the outskirts of town. "I found her body, took on her form, and simply... stepped into her life. Jarvil was too far gone in his cups to notice the difference. And as she grew older, well... who would question a child growing up?"

The casual cruelty of it all makes my stomach churn. "And no one ever suspected?"

Meetha shakes her head. "Humans see what they expect to see, Milkor. It's both their greatest weakness and their most charming quality."

"You used me."

Meetha's expression hardens, her eyes piercing through my defenses. "Yes, I did. But you also sought to use me, did you not? To regain your true form and escape this cursed existence."

Her words sting because they're true. I remain silent, seething with a mixture of anger and grudging respect. My mind races, trying to process everything I've learned. How could I have been so blind?

Meetha's demeanor softens slightly. "Come, Milkor. Let me show you something. Perhaps then you'll understand the scope of what I do."

She leads me through her realm, the landscape morphing around us with each step. We pass through forests of crystalline trees, their branches tinkling like wind chimes in a non-existent breeze. I pause, mesmerized by the otherworldly beauty.

"How is this possible?" I murmur, almost to myself.

Meetha's lips curl into a satisfied smile. "In this realm, reality bends to my will. Impressive, isn't it?"

We continue on, crossing fields of flowers that sing in ethereal voices. Their haunting melody sends shivers down my spine. As we approach a river of liquid starlight, I can't help but ask, "Why are you showing me all this?"

"Patience, Milkor," Meetha chides gently. "All will be revealed in time."

After what feels like hours of traversing this impossible landscape, we finally arrive at a massive structure that seems to be made of pure, solidified shadow. Meetha places her hand on the obsidian-like surface, and a door materializes.

"Welcome," she says, a hint of pride in her voice, "to my greatest achievement."

As we step inside, I'm unprepared for the sight that greets me. My jaw drops as I take in the vast chamber before us.

Rows upon rows of glass cases line the walls, each containing a different creature. Orcs, vampires, elves, even humans – all frozen in various poses, like living statues.

"What is this?" I growl, unable to hide my shock.

Meetha glides between the cases, her fingers trailing along the glass. "My collection. Every creature that's caught my eye over the centuries."

I follow her, my skin crawling as I pass by the imprisoned beings.

"You're insane," I spit out.

She turns to me, her smile predatory. "I prefer to think of myself as a connoisseur of the unique and powerful."

I stop in front of a case containing a particularly fierce-looking orc. "And what? You just keep them here for your amusement?"

Meetha shrugs. "Sometimes I let them out to play. But they always return to their cases in the end."

A chill runs down my spine as I realize the implications of her words. "You're a monster."

She laughs, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Says the demon."

I whirl on her, fury burning in my veins. "I may be a demon, but even I have limits. This is... perverse."

Meetha's eyes flash dangerously. "Careful, Milkor. You're in no position to judge me."

She steps closer, her presence overwhelming. "Besides, you should feel honored. I've collected creatures from all across the realms, but do you know what's missing from my collection?"

I swallow hard, already knowing the answer. "A demon."