54. The Goblin King
Aleiraah
‘Azizam! Where are you?' Azael's faint yet urgent voice finally pierces the fog swirling in my mind.
I jolt awake as a fiery agony blazes through my veins, leaving my limbs like jelly. The babies' fluttery kicks have grown silent, as if sensing our peril. Their stillness scares me.
We'll get through this little ones.
I try to respond to Azael, but I'm not certain if my 'voice' is reaching him. These fucking shackles have made me weaker than a mortal.
That piece of shit, Vroc, has moved me to a windowless dungeon. I have no idea how much time has passed since my capture, but it moves at a snail's pace, and my chances of escape look increasingly slim.
Once I find my way out of this nightmare, I’ll fucking kill Raine, I promise myself.
The air smells rank and damp. Above, a glowing red lake teems with the swimming silhouettes of massive, terrible creatures. I throw back my head, the tendons in my neck stretching to a breaking point as I cry out from the onslaught of fresh pain
A few torches flicker in sconces, their sickly green flames casting monstrous shadows. I whimper, releasing the breath I was holding as the burning beneath my skin fades momentarily, only to flare up again.
“Don't hold back your screams, pet. I've always wanted to test the acoustics here.” Vroc steps out from the shadows, his smile thin. I bite my lip raw to keep from screaming obscenities at the monster. I need to know his endgame.
“You didn’t tell me if you liked the cuffs,” he murmurs, tilting an inky eyebrow. “Perhaps you prefer delicate chains?” He pauses the pain, granting a brief respite. I take a shuddering breath. My entire body feels leaden, my back aching as if pierced by a hot iron poker.
"I designed it so it doesn’t constantly drain you. That’s boring.” He remarks indolently, tipping his chin at the cuffs. I want to scratch the self-satisfied smile right off his face.
"Freakish hobby you have." I bite out after breathing in a lungful of stale air.
"I knew you'd appreciate it." He smirks and I can't help but yell a “fuck off” at him.
"Tsk...Behave." He admonishes me like I'm a child and I gnash my teeth. "What do you want, Vroc?"
"You know my name?" He tilts his head in an eerie gesture baring pointed, triangular teeth in a chilling grin.
"You've been trying to disrupt my life for a very long time. You killed my parents! I want to know why, once and for all."
He strolls closer with measured steps, like a predator stalking prey, "You're finally catching up. I thought you'd be in the dark forever. But, all in good time, pet."
He reaches out with a clawed hand as if to stroke my head but I lean away in disgust. The next moment he grabs my hair and yanks hard. "Don't shy away, we're just getting started."
With a wave of his hand, his cavernous throne room flickers against the dungeon wall. My blood turns to ice and dread fills my stomach. On display are my husbands and Ispahan, locked in combat with goblin soldiers while another Vroc watches impassively from his throne.
"What? How are––" I look at the fight unfolding and then at Vroc who's watching my reaction like a hawk.
"Just a decoy." He shrugs as if complex illusion magic like that is a piece of cake.
How the fuck is a goblin so powerful?
My breathing turns harsh as I watch my husbands cut down swarms of goblins but somehow more seem to pop up in the blink of an eye.
“They're fighting illusions, aren't they? Let me go!” I shout, desperately pulling at the chains.
I try to use my dwindling magic, but he suddenly seizes my neck, slamming me against the wall.
My vision narrows to his widow's peak. My legs flutter, trying and failing to find purchase.
I kick his shins and thighs, but he doesn't flinch.
“Keep your voice down. I hate unnecessary noise, Aleiraah,” he says, tightening the chains to the damp stone until I choke.
He chuckles darkly. “Clever, aren't you? Those illusions are as good as real soldiers. Your husbands already razed my useless goblin army a few hours ago. They needed culling anyway, so a better army could rise.” A manic glee flickers in his eyes, vanishing just as fast.
What fucking sorcery is he using? And raising a new army––what is this lunatic planning?
When dark spots swim in my vision, he abruptly lets go and I crumble to the floor, wheezing.
"That's better. Now where were we? Ah, yes! Your parents––the mighty Asmordial and that fucking whore, Ilzara." He sneers.
"Don't talk about my mother like that, you swine!" I spit out hoarsely, wondering who this Asmordial is.
"You'll soon realise, pet, I can and will do pretty much whatever I want." Vroc taunts with a flick of his wrist and my limbs are pulled tight in four different directions, plastering me to the stone wall again, making me cry out.
He grips my face, clawtips pricking my skin and stares into my eyes in fascination. "You have Asmordial's eyes. The same aquamarine fire. Perhaps I'll keep them as keepsakes."
"Get your facts right, you unhinged scum. My father was Ashtarth Silvraeth. Tell me why I'm here!"
He scoffs, "Ashtarth, hmm? A name he assumed for that bitch."
"How do you know my father?" I ask, unease coiling in my belly.
"Why, he was the love of my life, pet." He says nonchalantly as if he didn’t just drop an explosive blowing all preconceived notions to smithereens.
The fuck? Is this fellow delusional?
"Until he betrayed me." His voice turns flat as his eyes turn shockingly black then switches back to yellow again.
A chill runs down my spine. It almost felt like something else was staring out of his eyes for a moment there.
“You’re lying.”
Vroc cants his head, "Why do I need to do that?
We were partners. The best of friends. We had such grand plans of ruling Mytherra....
and beyond. Side by side. Hell and skies alike.
Then came along your mother, that fucking cunt drove a wedge between us.
Poisoning him against me." He snarls, lips peeling away from his serrated teeth.
Mother knew Vroc?
"That slut seduced Asmordial with her wiles. A fucking succubus in heat. Much like you. Fucking anything in sight!" He says in distaste, letting go of my face to wipe his hands with a kerchief as if he'd touched something dirty.
"My mother loved my father. And he adored her! You're just a power hungry wannabe who needs to hold me in draining shackles to get one up on me." I scoff at the absurdity of his story.
"Oh he fucked her at every chance he got. After all that's all your mother was good for. Spreading her legs." He smirks.
"Shut up!" I scream and he slaps me hard across the face, making my ears ring.
"Let's not be impolite, pet." He says placidly while I try to curb the urge to spit in his face.
"I was supposed to reign along with your father. But he chose to become a reputable demon." Vroc sniggers, shaking his head.
"No one knew that he was once ruler of hell's most notorious sector. He resumed a new identity––Ashtarth, married your mother, became domesticated, even took her name." He says bitterly.
"Maybe he realized you're scum and ditched your sorry ass." I sneer and am rewarded with another sharp slap that stings like a motherfucker.
"Don't. Test. Me. Pet." He hisses, eyes wild, while slicing open the side of my neck with his claw. Slowly. As if savouring the sight of my blood. I wince and his face turns calm again.
This fucking asshole is a psycho!
"Your father had raw magic. He was capable of controlling something of untold power.
" He hints in a trance-like reverent whisper.
"The catalyst that would've changed our fate.
Only he abandoned me halfway. I still managed to acquire it at a great cost. But I needed Asmordial to unlock its full potential.
And he was busy playing house with your whore of a mother. "
"Instead of berating my mother, tell me why the fuck I'm here!" I demand, on a growl.
He clicks his tongue. "So impatient. Just like him. But that’s not the only thing Asmordial passed onto you.” His grotesque grin widens. “The same magic runs in your veins, pet.”
Bewildered, I frown and his eyes turn pitch-black with a fanatical gleam, making me feel hunted. “You can feed and truly unlock the full potential of...the Grimoire."
My breath stills in my lungs, a low sibilant voice resonating in my ear.
Aleiraah...
My stomach bottoms out, as my palms turn clammy with sweat. I've heard that voice in my dreams. My skin breaks out in goosebumps as Vroc tilts his head studying me with that eerie, disturbing gaze.
The Grimoire is real?
Legend says that it’s an ancient sentient entity and no one knows where it came from. Only that it holds unimaginable dark endless magic. And whoever possesses the Grimoire can rule over any realm, because it grants all wishes to the beholder. But at a steep price.
Snapping out of my anxiety-spiral I realize that Vroc is still speaking, his eyes once more canary yellow.
".....his precious offspring. I realized it when I accidentally killed him.
" He looks sad for a moment but the expression flitters away as if it had been a trick.
"I was trying to snatch you, to use as leverage for Asmordial to join me again.
But he sacrificed himself to save your worthless life.
He deserved to die anyway for betraying me.
" Vroc digs his claw into the open wound on my neck almost indifferently, making it sting.
"You killed my father whom you supposedly loved?
" I bite out, angered that I missed out on knowing my father because of this vermin.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch my husbands and Ispahan still fighting the pseudo goblin-army tirelessly.
Ispahan no doubt portalled them here. But I feel guilty for dragging him into this mess.
If my guess is right, Vroc is using the Grimoire to fuel this fight. But at what cost?
As I notice Archie and Rinn bleed afresh, it appears that these aren't ordinary illusions. Do they even know what they're fighting against?