21. Volezimir

21

VOLEZIMIR

I lead Kaelox through the winding streets of Ti'lith, my hand resting protectively on his shoulder. The city's usual bustle feels muted today, or maybe it's just my own unease coloring everything. That ball... Azrathel's stare... I shake my head, trying to focus on the present.

"Where are we going, Dad?" Kaelox asks, his mismatched eyes bright with curiosity.

"Somewhere special," I reply, forcing a smile. "The edge of Galmoleth, where our island is now linked to the planet we came from."

As we leave the city proper, the landscape shifts dramatically. Jagged black rocks replace the worn cobblestone streets, their obsidian surfaces gleaming dully in the muted light.

The air grows thinner, carrying a metallic tang that tingles in my nostrils. I point out landmarks along the way, my voice a low rumble as I share pieces of my past with my son.

"See that, Kaelox? That's the Spire of Shadows where I trained as a youth," I say, gesturing to a towering structure that seems to pierce the stormy sky. Its surface writhes with dark energy, a constant reminder of the power that flows through our realm. "And over there, those are the Whispering Caverns. Ancient prophecies still echo in their depths."

But even as I speak, my mind keeps drifting, unable to shake the unease that's settled in my gut. What the fuck was Azrathel planning? Those hushed conversations I'd overheard, the way his blood-red gaze had lingered on Kaelox...

It makes my skin crawl. I clench my fist, feeling the familiar ache in my old injury. Whatever that bastard's up to, I'll be damned if I let him anywhere near my family.

"Dad?" Kaelox's voice snaps me back to reality. "Ouch." He yanks on my hand.

"Sorry," I mutter, loosening my grip. I need to stay present, for him.

We reach the precipice, where solid ground gives way to swirling mists. The barrier between Galmoleth and the endless expanse of Aerasak shimmers faintly.

"This," I say, gesturing to the void, "is Aerasak. The planet that our race comes from. It's full of magic — more than here — and tons of animals you've never seen."

Kaelox peers into the mists, awe plain on his face. "It's beautiful," he whispers.

I nod, few memories having resurfaced for me since Asmodeus' was taken for trial. "It's also dangerous. There's been a lot of war, which is why we had to come here."

I gaze out at the swirling mists of Aerasak, feeling the weight of history and responsibility pressing down on me. Kaelox's eyes are wide with wonder, and I force myself to focus on his excitement rather than the nagging worry in the back of my mind.

"There's so much more to Aerasak than just demons," I explain, my voice low. "Xaphan, elemental spirits, creatures you've never even dreamed of. It's a world teeming with magic and danger."

Kaelox leans forward, nearly tipping over the edge. I grab his arm, my grip tighter than necessary. He winces, and I loosen my hold, silently chastising myself for my distraction.

"Sorry," I mutter. "Just... be careful."

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering unease from the ball. Azrathel's piercing stare flashes through my mind, and I clench my jaw.

"But we are okay here," I say before it gets too grim for a five year old. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Our god... he gave Asmodeus, our King, the power to bring us here. To save us."

Kaelox's brow furrows. "As…Asmodeus?"

I kneel down, meeting my son's mismatched gaze. "One day, you'll meet the King I've served for years. I promise you that."

As I stand, my mind wanders again to Azrathel's calculating gaze at the ball. The way he watched us, never approaching, yet always present. I shake my head, trying to dispel the unease.

But as I explain the intricacies of Aerasak, its role in demon magic and history, I feel some of my tension easing. This is what matters – passing on our heritage, keeping Kaelox safe. Whatever Azrathel might be planning, we'll face it together.

But even as I think this, a part of me remains on high alert, scanning the rocks behind us for any sign of danger.

"Do you want to practice while you are out here?"

His eyes light up. "Yeah!"

I lead Kaelox to a secluded clearing, and with us far from the prying eyes of Ti'lith, I know he can let loose. The air crackles with raw energy, perfect for honing demonic abilities.

"Alright, son," I say, kneeling to meet his eyes. "Show me what you've learned so far."

Kaelox's face scrunches in concentration. He extends his small hands, and a faint flicker of flame dances between his palms. Pride swells in my chest.

"Good," I nod. "Now, let's try something bigger."

I demonstrate, conjuring a swirling vortex of fire. Kaelox watches, eyes wide with wonder. He mimics my movements, his brow furrowed in determination. At first, only sparks appear, but with each attempt, the flames grow stronger.

"That's it," I encourage. "Feel the power flowing through you."

Hours pass as we work through various skills. Shadow manipulation, energy projection, even basic telekinesis. Kaelox tackles each challenge with fierce determination, his face lighting up with every small victory.

"Dad, look!" he shouts, levitating a small rock. The strain is evident on his face, but his grin is triumphant.

"Excellent work," I beam, ruffling his hair. "You're a natural."

As the day wears on, I guide Kaelox through more complex maneuvers. We practice defensive shields, offensive energy blasts, and even rudimentary portal creation. Each success, no matter how small, fills me with pride and hope for his future.

By sunset, Kaelox is exhausted but exhilarated. His clothes are singed and his hair is wild, but his eyes shine with accomplishment.

"You did well today," I tell him, my voice gruff with emotion. "Your mother will be proud."

I kneel down in front of Kaelox, placing my hands on his shoulders. The setting sun casts long shadows across the rocky terrain, reminding me it's time we headed back. But first, there's something important I need to convey.

"Kaelox," I begin, my voice low and serious. "You've shown incredible progress today. But with great power comes great responsibility."

His mismatched eyes lock onto mine, attentive despite his exhaustion.

"The abilities we possess, they're not just for show or personal gain. They're a tool, and like any tool, they can be used for good or ill. It's up to us to choose wisely."

I pause, searching for the right words. "Balance is key. You must learn to control your power, not let it control you. Unchecked, it can be dangerous – to others and to yourself."

Kaelox nods solemnly. "Like when I burned my toy?"

I can't help but chuckle. "Exactly. But on a much larger scale. As you grow stronger, the potential for harm grows too. That's why absolute control is crucial."

I stand, offering my hand to help him up. "It's not just about mastering the techniques. It's about understanding when to use them, and when to hold back. Sometimes, the greatest strength lies in restraint."

As we begin our journey home, Kaelox peppers me with questions about control and responsibility. His eagerness to learn fills me with pride, but also a touch of worry. The path ahead won't be easy, especially with the uncertainties waiting for us back in Ti'lith.

But for now, I push those concerns aside, focusing on my son's excited chatter and the warmth of his small hand in mine. Whatever challenges lie ahead, we'll face them together.

"Okay, Dad," Kaelox says, his voice filled with a determination that both worries and fills me with pride. And then he does something that shatters every wall, every fear, and every worry that's been building inside me like a crumbling fortress.

He launches forward, his small body colliding with mine, and wraps his arms tightly around my neck. The warmth of his embrace is a stark contrast to the chill that's been settling in my chest. "I'm careful," he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

And for some reason I can't quite fathom, it chokes me up. My throat tightens, and I feel a burning behind my eyes that I refuse to acknowledge. I pull him closer to me, one large hand splayed across his back, feeling the soft carapace beginning to form beneath his shirt.

"Good," I manage to say, my voice rougher than usual. I take a deep, calming breath, letting his presence ground me like an anchor in a storm. "Very good," I murmur, allowing myself this moment of vulnerability that only my son can draw out of me.