11. Dagon
Chapter eleven
Dagon
Icouldn’t sleep. After leaving Di and the others downstairs, I went to my room.
Pacing from one side to the other, I tried to settle the rising hurricane of emotions.
The ridiculous question was, how could I do that when all I could see was the moment our father sliced Di’s hand?
It was like my heart stopped right then.
His scream. The blood. The pain written on his face.
The memory played on a loop in my mind.
I screamed and punched the wall again and again until my knuckles split open. I didn’t stop until the image finally left my vision.
I couldn’t protect him.
I should have reacted faster. I should have done something to prevent it. Anything. I should have anticipated the worst. But how do you reconcile the man who raised us with this... angel on a mission?
Eventually, I slumped to the floor, back to the wall, drained of energy. I still couldn’t believe it. Di had been dragged into this nightmare in the worst way. And I hit King. My father. The man who raised me. I hit him.
When Di screamed, everything went black before my eyes. Invisible hands wrapped around my throat like a vice and stole my breath. Guilt flooded into the space where air should have been, crushing me under its weight.
The moment King cut Diablos’s hand, he was no longer my father.
Something shifted within me. He became nothing more than the person who hurt Di, and every part of me screamed to hurt him back, to destroy him.
I didn’t see him as anything else but a threat.
I barely contained my rage, and only because Di woke up minutes later.
Not even Wilder would have been able to stop me.
No one would have. It was like I lost sense of who I was and became blinded by what was inside me.
All because King hurt the one person he should have never laid a finger on.
When Di said he was going after that object, I made my choice too. What was King thinking, sending him to track this object alone? Was it really in the hands of the Starborns? Did he realize what demons would do to Di if he got caught?
It was a suicide mission for a human. I couldn’t let him go alone.
I couldn’t stay here any longer, either.
Once King discovered what I was, I’d be as good as dead, even if I was his son.
Not to mention, I was taught to hate angels.
If my own kind found out I was raised by one, they would assume I was siding with him. I would end up dead or worse.
Hell, everything was such a mess.
Everything was falling apart. It was like trying to hold onto handfuls of slipping sand while the waves kept crashing into me with a vengeance.
But one thing was clear. No matter what happened to me, I would make sure Di was safe. Everything and everyone else could go to Hell, as far as I was concerned. Just the thought of something happening to Diablos made my blood run cold.
I didn't know how long I stayed there, slumped on the floor, trying to imagine what life would be like from now on and looking for a way through this mess. The more I racked my brain, the more I lost sight of any hope.
Eventually, I stood and headed to the bathroom to wash the blood off my knuckles. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, and it will be healed by tomorrow.
I stared at myself in the mirror and made my decision. Quietly, I went to King's office. I was sure he was still there, not in his room. I needed some answers. This might be the last time we spoke as father and son. I knew what I might have to do if Di and I faced danger.
I knocked on his door and heard his voice, “Come in.”
The father who raised me – the man who was always so put together – now looked like a wreck. He was slumped in his chair, his tie and shirt disheveled, his hair a mess in every direction, his eyes glassy. The half-empty bottle of liquor on the desk explained why.
My eyes dropped to his split lip that was already healed. With his healing, I knew that would be the case. I crossed the room and sat in the chair across from his desk. He wasn't meeting my eyes. And it was hard to admit, even to myself, but it was breaking my heart.
My mind flashed back to the first time I met him. I had tried to rob him. I’d been living on the streets for a year. He should have called the cops or walked away, but he didn’t. He took me in and somehow convinced me he wasn’t a bad guy.
And I believed him.
I shouldn’t have.
It would have been for the best, but then I wouldn’t have met my brothers. And I wouldn't have met Di.
At first, I acted distant, even cold, toward King, but he always tried. Every day after work, he showed up, trying to talk, trying to connect.
I was torn between hating him and loving him, for what felt like the millionth time.
“Why are you here, Dagon?” His voice was slurred.
“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out before I knew I was saying them.
“What for, little dragon?” he asked with a pained smile.
He used to call me little dragon when I was a teenager and continued to call me that whenever no one else was around.
“For hitting you. I’m sorry.”
I was sorry it had come to that. But I wasn't sorry I did it. Even if it made me a monster in some people's eyes, I didn't care. What he did was wrong on so many levels.
He studied me for a moment, then shook his head. “I deserve worse. I saw the shock on your brothers’ faces when you hit me. What shocked them most, though, was you defending Diablos."
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have words for that.
“Most of them think you don’t care, you know,” he continued. “But I know better.”
“Know what, exactly?”
“That you care. That you love them. That you'd do anything for them”
If only you knew. I’d lay down my life for any of them. But for Diablos, I’d go further. I’d tear the world apart if I had to.
“You show it in your own way. Sometimes they don’t see it.”
“And you do?”
“Yes, I do.”
We fell into silence. Not the familiar kind. Not the silence we used to share, the kind that said more than words ever could. This one was suffocating.
I broke it first.
“What was that knife you used?”
“I guess I owe you some answers.” He sighed and sipped his drink before continuing, “It is the seventh object. It is the one that unites all the others. It’s the beginning since it was created first. With it, I can complete the bonds.”
“How did you even bond us with these objects in the first place?”
So, he needed the seventh object, a knife, to solidify whatever connection he made between us and those objects. There was still hope for the others then.
“All I needed was your names, but for you to be truly connected and possibly use them, I needed your blood.”
I clenched my fists when the image of Diablos on the floor flashed in my head again.
“Are you sure it’s the Starborns?”
“Yes.” His features tightened, and I saw undiluted disgust in his eyes. Something in me twisted, and in that moment, the last spark of hope that he would still see me as a son died. “There is no one else.”
“What do these objects do? Where did they come from?”
“Each one has a specific power. They were created a long, long time ago by someone... powerful. In the wrong hands, they can bring chaos to this world, the Underworld, and Heaven. Sadly, there’s no way to know what their powers currently are.”
His answer didn’t give much information. He was still hiding something. But pushing wouldn’t get me anywhere, not tonight.
“Why don’t you go with Di if there is a chance he may face Starborns? You said they’re violent. Aren’t you putting him in danger?”
“I can’t go with him. I need to stay here and protect the other objects.”
“They’re more important than your sons, right?” I couldn’t reign in my fury. Why was I even surprised? Angels always put their divine duties first, never caring about anyone else.
"You are all the most important thing to me."
I almost believed him. Almost. If I hadn't known what he'd do the moment he learned the truth about me.
“If these objects fall into the wrong hands,” he continued, “none of you will be safe.”
No matter what he said, it still looked like he was choosing the objects over us.
His words expressed one thing, but his actions spoke louder.
So what if the world burns? Let it burn if it means your sons are safe.
I wanted to scream these words in his face, but I didn’t.
Instead, I chose to tell him I was leaving too.
“I’m going with Di.”
“What?”
“I’m going with Di. I won’t let him go alone.”
“Dagon, it’s-”
“No. I’ve made up my mind. Nothing you say is going to change it. Is there anything else you want to tell me or that I need to know?”
He hesitated, and in that pause, I saw it. The flicker of relief. He didn’t want Di to go alone either.
“Be careful. The Starborns are monsters. Don’t trust anyone except the person I’ll send you to. I'll send the directions to you in a bit.”
“How will we know if we face a demon?” I wanted to test whether he would lie to me.
“You won’t know, especially if they are from a lower clan. However, I hope the Starborns won’t conceal their powers.”
I tilted my head, trying to gauge whether he was lying or genuinely believing his own words. Was he serious right now?
"You're kidding, right? That's how Di is supposed to know he's in danger? Hoping?"
You’ve got to be kidding me. Did he hear himself? Didn’t he hear how absurd it sounds?
“I can tell you more about them, but you won’t be able to sense them.”
“So, you’re sending Diablos on a suicide mission.”
He bowed his head and whispered barely audibly, “I don’t have any other choice.”
“Yeah. Angels never have a choice, do they?”
I got up from my seat before he could make more excuses. There was no point in continuing this conversation. Before I opened the door, I turned and looked at him. If I had to choose, I knew what choice I would make, so this was my only chance to say these words.
"Thank you. Thank you for raising me. And I'm really sorry I hit you, Dad. But if you ever try to hurt any of them, you'll have to go through me first."
I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I couldn’t bear to.
Passing the game room, I heard my brothers’ laughter. Yeah, I’d miss this. I’d miss them. All I could hope was that when this was over, I’d still have a some part of my family to come back to.