Varian approached cautiously, his steps slow, unsure.
"Oh… you're awake," he said, scratching the back of his head.
Daemon turned to face him, stretching his arms and flexing his fingers. "Yeah. I am." He glanced around. "More importantly… who's steering this ship?"
"There's one guy," Nyxtriel answered, calm and steady. "An ex-pirate. Said he's sailed half the world before getting caught smuggling cursed relics."
Daemon raised a brow. "Convenient."
Then his crimson gaze shifted back to Varian, who was clearly trying not to fidget.
Daemon's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Are you afraid of me now? And here I thought you said I was 'fun to be around.'"
Varian chuckled nervously. "You are still fun. It's just back there, you were… different. Like, demon-from-a-nightmare different. I'm surprised you're not still wearing the horns."
Daemon smirked. "Oh, I still have them."
He raised one hand and flexed.
His fingernails sharpened into claws. His eyes darkened to pure black, the crimson pupils glowing like dying stars.
Varian stepped back instinctively.
Two horns sprouted from Daemon's head, curling back with eerie elegance.
"That's scary," Varian muttered.
Nyxtriel's eyes widened. She hadn't expected the transformation to return so easily. But it made sense
the fragments were reawakening his original power.
"Thanks to that little outburst," Daemon said casually, "I gained something new. My stamina's increased. And I unlocked a technique I forgot I even had—Void Breath."
Nyxtriel's expression shifted from awe to concern. "Wait… you remember using it? Does that mean you had control?"
Daemon lowered his hand. The horns vanished. His claws and eyes returned to normal.
"Not exactly," he said. "I don't have memories of what happened. But… I know it happened. Like my body remembers what my mind doesn't."
Nyxtriel stepped closer, worry in her voice. "Then the possession…"
"I don't understand it yet," Daemon admitted. "But I know someone who might. Someone who'll help me figure out what's going on."
Nyxtriel nodded silently, her expression still unreadable.
Then—
"Hello, Dan—uh, I mean… Prince Daemon."
They all turned.
William had just woken up, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached.
Daemon blinked, surprised. Most kids would be too scared to speak to him especially after what he became.
"You don't have to call me 'prince,'" Daemon said. "That title's dead."
But William didn't flinch.
"I have to respect you," the boy said, eyes wide but steady. "You saved me. You're a good person."
Nyxtriel and Varian tensed.
Would he snap? Laugh? Reject it?
Daemon stared at the boy for a long second, then walked over and gently placed a hand on his head.
"Just because I saved you," he said quietly, "doesn't make me a good person. It just means you got lucky."
William's smile faded slightly, but Daemon leaned in with a faint smirk.
"I'm not scolding you," he added. "But remember this, William this world? It doesn't deserve your kindness. Don't show your weakness. Even the most beautiful smiles…" He paused, eyes narrowing. "…are poisonous."
William looked up at him, voice small. "How do you know that?"
Daemon's gaze darkened.
"Because I was once a victim of it."
...…..
The morning sun broke across the horizon, painting the ocean gold.
Waves rolled gently against the docks of Velmira Coast Town, a bustling port where merchant ships came and went, hauling spices, ores, and secrets.
Among them, one ship stood out.
A large, damaged vessel drifted in slowly—its sails torn, its hull scarred by battle and sea monsters. Yet it moved with eerie calm, like something ghostly was pushing it from behind.
On the docks, a squad of armored guards spotted the ship's arrival.
"Look! That boat—it's drifting in!"
"It's gotta be them—the fugitives!"
"Catch them before they escape again!"
The guards were from Vaelthar, clad in silver-blue armor with mage crests etched into their pauldrons. Without hesitation, they leapt from the dock using boost spells—thunder crackling beneath their boots as they soared through the air and landed aboard the deck.
Weapons drawn.
Eyes scanning.
But what they found…
Was nothing.
No crew. No blood. No bodies.
Just silence.
One guard narrowed his eyes. "There's no one here."
"It's like the boat… sailed itself," another muttered.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the commotion.
"Out of my way, you fools!"
A woman landed on the deck with a heavy thud—her black boots cracking the old wood beneath. She stood tall, built like a soldier, wrapped in a navy-blue uniform laced with rank insignia.
Her hair was a mess of tight brown curls, her eyes sharp and amber-hued beneath layers of bold makeup.
She radiated command.
Captain Elyra Vos, head of Vaelthar's special enforcement unit.
She crouched and placed a gloved hand to the wood.
"Mana perception."
Her aura sky-blue and burning hot pulsed from her palm, dancing across the boat's surface like a wave of light.
Numbers filled her vision. Footprints. Residual aura traces. She stood slowly, eyes narrowing.
"There were five of them. One child. One old man. They jumped before the ship docked," she said. "Smart."
She turned to her troops.
"Spread out. Grapevine search. I want every corner of Velmira swept. They're nearby."
A short distance away, just past a market alley and behind a curtain of thick greenery, five figures crouched in silence.
Daemon. Nyxtriel. Varian. William. And the grizzled ex-pirate who now looked a little too pleased with himself.
Their clothes were soaked. Their hair was damp. Salt clung to their skin.
They had swum through cold open water in the dark, slipped through side currents, and reached shore long before the ship arrived.
It was all part of the plan.
Varian chuckled quietly. "Your plan actually worked. You made those mages look stupid."
Daemon didn't return the smile.
"This isn't the time to laugh."
He watched the guards scatter through the city from their vantage point.
"Fighting them wouldn't be hard," he said, eyes sharp. "But drawing attention right now means trouble. We don't need a pack of magic dogs sniffing after us everywhere we go."
Nyxtriel nodded beside him. "So what's next?"
Daemon stepped back from the ledge and pulled his hood over his head.
"We blend in."