A Vampire's Pride

One Step Closer

Viola's POV

              The definition of demon is something along the lines of 'evil spirit' or 'devil'— so how was I supposed to focus on the task at hand and not on what I'd thought I saw Kilian say?

           Could it be possible that something like him, by definition, could be capable of feeling the same as I? Like this tiny little crush screaming at me in the back of my mind?
       I'd felt his lingering kisses and heard his promises of more— his loyalty to me, not just because of our deal... so in truth, would he really be able to feel at such depths? To love someone, not just for selfish gain?

          According to Varla, no.

         But according to Kilian, Varla was some superstitious crazed witch who barely knew a damn thing about demons; Just that they had bad intentions most of the time. And in Kilian's mind— he was always thinking mischievously, except for when it came to me. Or what I tell myself— him protecting the deal we'd made, nothing more and nothing less.

            Here I am, being dragged to the bottom of a dirty cold river by a demon called a Raksha, and the last thing on my mind was oxygen.

            It was Kilian. Always him.

Couldn't I have crushed on some football or soccer dweeb at school— instead, I'd found myself on some crazy mission to go to the underworld and save my dad; and maybe I might've found myself growing feelings for a demon who my dad had kept locked up for his own personal reasons— which might've been that this said demon was going to get rid of me— and here I am daydreaming about feeling his lips on mine again.

What a fool. Indeed.

   
           I'm snapped out of my thoughts as the Raksha finally reaches the soil and bone filled ground of the river, glancing at me momentarily.

         "You won't feel a thing." It says, eyes glinting with mischief. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I glance around, trying to locate the gateway portal. All I can see is cracked skulls of humans from the past and eyeballs littering in piles. I jerk my head back in disgust, but the Raksha just pushes me closer to the bone filled ground.

            "No one is able to get this deep without me. Go on. Touch it." His voice is light, almost as if it's excited to see me do whatever it is he wants me to do. I can only hold my breath for so long, I don't have time to debate whether the Raksha is to be trusted or if it all felt sketchy to me.

           The Raksha pushes me closer once again, and I find myself reaching out to touch the floor of the river.

           I only have about twenty seconds before I start to choke on water— so spending so much time down here with the Raksha was beginning to become a hassle.

         My fingers reach the brown soil, and touch it's muddy texture. My fingers squelch in it, touching what few humans have been able to touch— the bold few including my father.

          Nothing happens.

         As the confusion ebbs my mind, I turn to gauge the Raksha's reaction, but he's gone. Everything is gone, the skulls, the eyeballs, the dark waters; everything.
       All that's left is clear sun filled water, pink and gold fishes swimming past me. I glance back down at my fingers to find them dipped in tan sand instead of brown mud— but before I can marvel at the beauty, I start to choke on water. Quickly, I kick my feet out and head for the direction of the sun filled surface, clawing at the warm water.

I burst through the surface of the waters, coughing up swear words and surprise.

"What the in the fuckery is this—" I cough out water as I turn my head in every direction, awed at the beauty and difference in dimensions.

The sun is blazing overhead of me, causing the river to have a beach feel to it— but instead of this sand filled body of water being located at a beach, it was, too, in the middle of a forest. Instead of a coat of snow and frost layering the trees, everything was a lush healthy green. The beautiful trees littered in every direction I looked, and the bushes were filled with red roses and tiny purple flowers.

               This was supposed to be some sort of underworld? The cruel place in which Kilian was raised?
            The realm of the demon king.

I snap myself out of my trance and quickly paddle myself to the forest ground. As I pull myself out of the water I look down to find my cloak and dress soaked. The grimoire.

I open my cloak to find it still in the same place I'd put it— and completely dry. It probably had enchantments placed to protect it. I feel out my pocket and realize the eyeball is still with me as well— I'd have to find a way to put it back inside of my father; if I find him.

        I need somewhere to go— new dry clothing and an idea of where to find him. Think. I urge myself— think back to what the prophecy says.

        My forehead creases as I remember it clearly. The second verse:

"Darkness to the light, Illuminates sight
Grave and stone, down to the bone
     Mayhap and wonder, those who go under
Reluctant paths, seize the maps
Save the war with the spirit of the door
         Only those who go in, will find their true kin
        Dark and light, those who must fight
     Join the war, with the element 

Amor. " I recite it aloud.

'Grave and stone, down to the bone' and 'those who go under' must have been the portal I took under the river to get here.

So the next step may be for me to... find a map?

If I'm frustrated, I don't let myself feel it. I start to get a look at my surroundings. I'm immersed in a deep forest, but civilization had to be around here somewhere.

If there's a village or city around here somewhere— someone is bound to have a fucking map.

And if there's a map— well, that's just one step closer to finding my father.

And according to the prophecy,
One step closer to joining a war as well.

•

•

•

•