“Zenkhald…” someone’s foreign whisper echoed in the darkness while he slept. “Zenkhald… let me in.”
Strange. Someone was trying to penetrate his consciousness, and on top of that, dictate their terms. An agreement? That means he will forget everything after this dream. Well, this is damn interesting. Alright.
Zenkhald found himself sitting on a white floor, woven as if from clouds. Right in front of him towered something enormous and blindingly glowing.
"Hello, Zenkhald," the entity pronounced. "You don't remember me, but I am the very one who cursed you."
In that instant, foreign memories crashed into his mind at high speed. He remembered everything. Zenkhald threw his head back and burst out laughing.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha! Yes, yes, yes, I remember now, False God!" he said.
The voice of the False God seemed to sound from everywhere: "When I placed the curse on you, I realized how greatly I was mistaken. I gave you not a punishment, but a gift. The gift to forget every fifteen years. But you..." A hollow laugh echoed through the white space. "But you put shackles on yourself by creating that book. From the moment I cursed you, exactly three thousand years have passed. No more, no less."
Zenkhald lazily rolled onto his side and scratched the back of his head. "Three thousand? Hmm, I think you're mistaken..."
But he wasn't allowed to finish. "Mira hides the real dates from you to make it easier to control you," the False God cut him off.
Zenkhald drew out, puzzled: "Uuuuh... And why are you even talking to me? I supposedly killed your children. And those who are they to you... relatives or whoever? Killed them too."
"I was watching you," the False God began to answer. "Only you, every second. When troubles or misfortunes happened to you, when you felt bad—I felt so good. I enjoyed it. Every time you lost someone, cried, when you were in pain—I reveled in it. For three thousand years I watched over you. But during this time, I'll tell the truth, I grew attached to you. Along with your suffering, I also observed your happiness. But you put a noose around your own neck with your book. Memories—they are so poisonous. After the death of all my loved ones, I realized what joy I had given you: the ability to forget all this pain time after time. But you ruined everything yourself."
The False God paused and continued: "The cores of my children and brothers merged into one, and now they are in this body. You received such power that physically no one can hurt you. But your head—is your weakest point."
"Here is what I find interesting," Zenkhald interrupted him. "I was cursed by you. And who cursed the others? Since we are having such amiable conversations."
"Fate gives all this."
Zenkhald exhaled in disappointment: "Yeah, right, yes. How easy it is to blame everything on fate."
"By the way, you weren't supposed to be born at all," the False God continued. "The fate of your loved ones was predestined completely differently. Your sister, Mira, was born with a great mission—ones like her are brought into the world to maintain balance. And your old acquaintance, Elinia Laurel, was supposed to meet Mira Helvard. Elinia's elite class and Mira Helvard were supposed to destroy the impending evil. They were meant to wipe out the demons who went on the attack again, and then fight my son, Phanuel, and stop him. In that battle, many were supposed to die, and my children would have asked for mercy for them, for a great light was born among humans."
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The glowing figure trembled slightly. "BUT YOU... Because of you, fate changed. And now even I do not see what is supposed to happen. Mira's fate was rewritten. She was supposed to become the hero of this world and stop the great evil. But now I sit and think: maybe the great evil—is you? I see the predestined fate. It still says: 'hero of the world' and 'stop the great evil.' Her destiny hasn't changed. But because of you, Mira Helvard became as strong as Elinia Laurel. Because of you, all the races are now mixed."
"Hmmm," Zenkhald merely gave a loud scoff. "This is all cool, of course, what you are telling me, but I didn't hear anything about Lucida. Isn't she your daughter?"
The False God laughed: "JUST LIKE YOU, she is a mistake of this world. She couldn't even reach you when you were the Demon King."
"I see," Zenkhald nodded. "Shall I ask myself?" "Yes." "So why did you decide to talk to me? You don't open the gates so that I would come, fight you, close everything, and not leave the keys to your world."
"Three thousand years... watching you, I wondered: aren't you tired yet?" the False God pronounced. "I am giving you one chance. I can dispel your curse. If you refuse—I will not offer again, and you will miss your opportunity."
"No," Zenkhald answered quickly. He bared his teeth, making him look like a predator. "I can feel even from here that you are afraid. Ha-ha-ha, you're afraid! I feel how you are hiding that your powers are running out. Slowly, but something is happening to you."
"FOOL!" the False God thundered. "The price of my brothers' lives is embedded in your curse! They gave their lives to fulfill it. This is your only chance!"
Zenkhald burst into laughter again. The light emanating from the False God noticeably dimmed. "I get it. Tomorrow you simply won't have enough power to dispel it. You want to lift my curse to take away my powers. But you can't do it yourself, not enough strength! A-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Snap. The incomprehensible glowing figure suddenly took shape, becoming like a human. One of its forearms and hand were covered in solid blackness. This was exactly the arm Zenkhald had once managed to bite.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" the False God exclaimed. "This world is becoming dark and gloomy. Look at me. ALRIGHT. You will bring about the end of the world with your own hands and destroy everything, everything is heading exactly towards that. You don't need to see the future to understand this. My grandchildren live on the new continent."
Zenkhald raised an eyebrow questioningly: "Grandchildren?"
"Yes. You didn't kill my ninth son, the Last Archangel. My grandchildren live on the new continent, and each of them, like a bomb, is only waiting for you. Mira will think these are the keys to the puzzle, but in the end, she herself will bring about the end of the world."
"Ahhh, got it. You mean to say that I will destroy all your grandchildren, and something will happen to the world?"
The False God seemed to smile. "Exactly. After these events, magic will finally become a fairy tale for many millennia. And then new troubles will come in the form of monsters, Zenkhald."
"I see. Listen, one more question," Zenkhald remembered. "And the Fear Demons... how did they appear?"
"One of my brothers ruled the world of the dead. But because of you, he died, and there was no one left to control that world."
"I get it," Zenkhald drew out. "Daaaamn, False God, you dropped some crazy spoilers. Why? I'm going to forget everything anyway."
The False God smiled and pronounced: "Until we meet again."
So many questions he left behind.
Zenkhald woke up abruptly. He looked down and stared at his hands.
"Where am I?" he whispered into the emptiness. "And... who am I?"