Demon staggered around the room as he tried to pull himself together, kicking the corpse by the door and knocking over the table, sending the game and his bags scattering to the dusty floor by the mostly empty barrels of foodstuffs. His body didn’t burn from the mana within him for once, but it felt unfamiliar. Changed.

He pulled at his cloak and it loosened as he adjusted it around his stressed muscles, and he held tightly to his staff to help circulate the mana through his body, feeling it pool and burst at regular intervals around him, as if clearing open long-clogged passageways. He fought back a scream desperately, sure he couldn’t chance making a scene, and continued rampaging through the room before finally wearing himself out.

He looked at his hands and it was as if he had triple vision. He could see his skinny, slightly tanned hands, the glow of his mana, and a second set of slightly sturdier, pitch black hands with the strange curves of the Darkest Night race. Even stranger was that none of these three appearances resonated with him as he viewed himself.

He was someone different now, not quite human or Darkest Night, and his memories reflected it. He remembered waking in this plane, surrounded by Darkest Night, searching for his sister. The first few weeks of fighting unfamiliar and blood-thirsty creatures just to protect their small and unsophisticated new home.

But he also remembered being scared and frightened Mason, hurtling through his assessment with uncanny luck, thinking that the challenges seemed to almost mold and map specifically around him.

A voice not unlike his own insisted that he was a Demon, and he imagined slaying the tyrant king of the bird-people and claiming his legendary staff for his own, relishing the strength it would bring him to guide all three races to prosperity in this new land.

Three races? He supposed he had formed a sort of kinship with these bird-people, the poor, dumb bird people, enslaved into thinking their tyrant cared for him, while he simultaneously kept them weak to prevent any of them from threatening their power.

The remnants of Mason knew these memories were fabricated, but he wondered where they were from. Perhaps he had taken in the soul that was still part of the staff?

His mind spun as he tried to reconcile three, or perhaps four, disparate identities. He captured the idea of Demon, holding him before his mind’s eye, watching his form take shape.

He was larger than Mason by a fraction, built with strong, well-used muscles. His skin was dark, but a reddish dark that promised to reflect an intimidating aura in the light, while still concealing him in the shadows. Then there was the crown of horns. Two prominent horns, no more than two inches tall protruding from the right and left side of his forehead, and the smaller mounds all around the crown of his skull, crowning him in his power.

The remnant Mason laughed as he saw the form. He had never been quite so dramatic as to think this dark and red hellborne image was ‘cool,’ but he had to admit the effect worked. With the image set, his glamour skill went to work, consuming a few points of mana to generate the image but very little to maintain. Instinct told him that would change under scrutiny.

He looked at his hands and saw just this, his Demon form, and felt the panic in his mind subside slightly.

Demon gathered the knives, the sword, his staff, and his bags, then cast Shadow Stalk and rushed into the hallway.

Using the key, he made his way into the stairwell that led down to where Shay was being held captive. He moved as quickly as he could while trying to remain silent, hoping not to disable Shadow Stalk for any reason.

He felt his own luck when he reached the bottom of the stairwell. He peered out to see five guards all sitting, scattered about yet another room with another table and another strange dice and tile game. They looked relaxed, likely content that they were beyond the reach of a locked door.

It didn’t take a wealth of creativity to find a way to sneak around them as the room was fairly dim and cluttered with racks of armor and weapons. Demon wondered idly about getting Shay back through this room without the use of the stealth skill, but decided that was a bridge to be crossed when he met it.

Beyond the large guard room was an open door leading to a long passage which opened up to another chamber, also long, but wider, with sturdy doors down both sides. The prison.

It was no challenge either to see where Shay was being kept. A single guard stood outside his door, apparently lost in his fury as he shouted at Shay to give him information.

Demon grinned, this was going to be too easy.

He moved up silently, channeling extra mana into Shadow Stalk to ensure he remained concealed, and then when he had passed three doors, and was within lunging range, he unsheathed his dagger and pounced.

His dagger met steel as the guard wheeled around, a bracer bound to his belt catching the blade of the dagger. Demon spun from the recoil and struggled to balance, clearly revealed, and heard the distinctive sound of a large sword being removed from its sheathe.

“I knew you’d come, Demon,” the man shouted, noting the distinctive horns even under his hood.

The shout carried, and quickly the guards in the other room were getting to their feet.

“I feared you’d be stronger, but you are slow. I was not there when you killed my king, but I will avenge him and take his place,” the guard swore, striking downward at Demon as he struggled to move away from the lightning fast blow.

Demon sheathed his dagger and pulled out his staff, fearing he would need as much defense as he could get. He struck out with the bottom of his staff, hoping to catch the man off guard, but the man simply kicked the staff back and away, stepping closer to Mason with a look of extreme patience.

“How did you kill my king, Demon? Did you steal magic from one of the other planes? You do not have the strength about you.” He slashed lazily and Demon took advantage of it to gain his feet.

“Stranger things happen in this world than the death of your king. Before you force me to show you them, release my friend,” he bluffed, ripping forward with his staff to try and land a direct blow and activate Mana Vampirism.

His opponent parried with remarkable ease. “You are not very strong. I was afraid, at first, when my king died. His staff was taken, the throne room was awash in blood, and I thought these birdmen had risen up to revolt against us. But then no attack came, even after I ordered the deaths of all the servants.”

The two exchanged a few more blows.

“But that was all I needed to know. A coward kills and vanishes. A great man, a truly powerful man, would stay to conquer. Time passed, and you return to us. Return to face your punishment.”

Demon realized now that under the armor and helmet, this was not a bird man. He was much taller, and his face was much flatter. He could have passed for human, or a cousin of the human race, but something about him was distinctly alien.

Demon lunged again and was deflected, but he jumped to the side and swept once more, funneling all of his mana into a Mana Blade. The man didn’t react fast enough to dodge the attack, but instead merely slashed at the mana with his sword. The attack dissipated pathetically, and Demon recognized where he stood.

Demon was stronger, faster, than Mason ever had been. But that did not mean he was strong, and it did not mean he was fast.

Shay spoke quietly from the cell, “I told you to flee, my friend.”

The guards from the other room stood at attention at the far end of the hall, but made no move to join the fight. Their leader had this, without any question.

The band made good time, but to Shaywise’s nerves, they were far behind where they should be. Unfortunately, eight people with supplies moved much slower than two boys rising at the break of dawn with only what they could carry on their backs.

Twice, the group had stopped on that first day to scout. Torysen would mark an area to rest, while one of the smaller of their group would begin making food, and the other four people in her troop would scatter, making sure they were not being followed, and that the area was clear of an major threats. Two goblins had been brought back, dead, and several cats were killed where they were, but beyond that it had been a quiet expedition.

Quiet, that is, except for Shaywise’s insistence that any break was more break than they should be taking.

Torysen didn’t like being in unfamiliar territory though, even if it were south where the land was supposedly uninhabited. In this world, one never knew when an unknown threat would appear. A whole race could take hold in an area overnight, and as it was guaranteed that a dungeon had formed in the area, there was no telling what might leak out of it.

So though her caution did not pay off actively, she felt secure knowing that it could be relied on if the tides ever did turn.

Eventually they arrived though, and they scattered about the entrance to the dungeon when they encountered it. Torysen ordered that nobody was allowed to head down the stairs until they had investigated it properly. Shaywise fumed, but Treyjol sat her down, patting her on the back affectionately to try to keep her calm.

After a minute or so, the small one, the band’s cook, popped up, and shouted across the field, “This was sealed!”

Tory came up to him and looked at the runes he had been inspecting, “What kind of seal? Would it be something a young warrior could have unlocked through force?”

“It doesn’t look like it, Captain. You’d need magical resonance with its pattern, and that would take an extremely accomplished caster with a lot of luck to hope to imitate.”

“Then it’s very possible they were captured by whatever lurks in this dungeon. Or maybe whatever force brought us into this world has the ability to open and close these entrances at will.”

Shaywise stood up and marched over to the two of them with fury written on her face, “We need to go down, now,” she demanded.

“You’re lucky he didn’t kill you, Demon,” Shayjol chastised, looking down on his battered and beaten friend.

Mason had hardly landed a blow on the strong man, and had been beaten swiftly once the interrogation was over with. Now he simply had to keep Recovery active until his stamina, mana, and health were back to normal, which since there was no clear opportunity to escape this cell, he probably had plenty of time to do.

He pouted, shaken by his own lack of strength. The amount of power that had surged through him after absorbing that skull, and acknowledging his new name, had seemed full of potential and inspired him to act recklessly. Now he felt much more like Mason, but the presence of Demon was still very real within him, merely subdued.

“Why didn’t you flee? You could have escaped out of the entrance long before they ever caught you. That man is the only person in the castle-complex who seems to have any real strength,” Shay explained, staring at his despondent friend.

He waited a little longer, than marched over and kicked Mason. It wasn’t violent, but with enough force to knock him over. Mason got up and looked back at Shay, and Shay caught his first glimpse of the Demon glamour as it flickered with Mason’s anger.

“I thought I was strong enough to get you out of here, Shay.”

“You are not. That man knew it too. He sensed you in the hallway, and left you because he predicted you would walk yourself down here anyways. You are a fool.”

“I want to be strong. I want to beat that calm look off the king’s man’s face, and I want to be able to protect the humans when they arrive here,” Mason insisted, moving closer to Shay, feeling his aggression pouring into every move.

“A fool cannot grow strong.”

“I’m no fool,” Demon growled.

“You are a weak man who believes he is strong. So obviously you are a fool. I was wrong to think I should kill you. It would have been a mercy. A fool does not deserve…”

Mason punched him, and Shay righted himself, glowering, and swung back. The two struck at each other again and again, but though they threw each other against the walls and left one another bloody, it was clear there was no killing intent. They both were more frustrated with themselves than the other.

Finally they both sat roughly in opposite corners of the cell, and when they pulled their eyes off each other they turned to see the door wide open, a strange looking woman in a dirty dress staring at them with amusement.

“Normally they bring in guards to brutalize the prisoners, but they really found a bargain with the two of you. Come on now, it’s time to get you out of here,” said Bazy, motioning for them to pick up the bags with their belongings and follow her. Everything was there except for the staff, which Mason assumed Kingsman had taken.

The only guard remaining in the guard room was unconscious and pantsless, and though it took little imagination to guess what had happened there, Mason felt his mind automatically dragging out details and possibilities. He looked at the girl, scaled and feathered, and couldn’t imagine what that would be like.

“Bazy, why are you here?” Mason asked, as Shay looked at him in confusion.

“How is it that you know this Bazy, Demon?”

“The brute scandalized me when I stumbled upon him in a hallway. It was very arousing,” Bazy answered for him. Mason shifted uncomfortably. “But it only seemed right that I not let such a peculiar opportunity rot in the cellars. We’ve been sealed into this castle for long enough, and if the two of you know where the exit is I believe it’ll be much faster for my friends and I to follow you out than if we tried to search the whole complex ourselves.”

“You’re right. You can follow us, but the world outside is not much safer,” Shay said.

“Nevermind that, we’re all survivors of a sort. Personally I’ll just be glad to have myself a good cry far away from all this death down here.” Bazy’s tone was steady, but there was something about her blunt attitude that made Mason sure she was genuine. Her ability to maintain a calm demeanor was impressive, and spoke of an intelligence that Mason had not seen in any of the bird-people he’d interacted with yet. He’d need to explore that further, later.

They had hardly passed the threshold into the reception corridor in front of the throne room when they heard shouts, the rustle of metal fixtures on leather armor, and the familiar sound of blades being drawn from their sheaths. Bazy stepped back into the corridor even as Shay and Demon stepped forward, Shay with his axe and Demon wielding both of his daggers.

Shay shouted and charged forward, startling the three guards that stood across the room, and Demon dived to the side behind a pillar, triggering Shadow Stalk so that he could sneak back into the open space without being spotted. Shay swung his axe like a baseball bat with both hands, launching a wave of force that staggered the guards, and then quickly spun around to get his axe back close to him to dodge the retaliation from the nearest of the three.

Demon had made impressive time getting into the flank of the battle undetected, relishing in the opportunity to take advantage of his newfound strength even after being shown up by the Kingsman. He stuck his dagger in the side of Uno at the same time as Uno was trying to defend against a series of strikes from Shay.

Uno cried out and then caught an axe swing with the leather on his arm, and Demon’s Shadow Stalk stayed up since he wasn’t actually seen. Moving swiftly to his next target, he kicked hard at Dos’s knee to prevent him from getting an attack in on Shay, then moved further over to engage Tres.

Tres caught on quickly though, and Demon had to bring his dagger up quickly to turn a quick jab aimed right at him. He felt his stealth drop but knew that was for the best before he drained his mana.

“We won’t let you escape, Demon!” Dos shouted, turning after recovering from the kick and hearing the clash of Tres’ and Demon’s blades. Shay meanwhile swung hard at Uno, sending him stumbling backwards, and released a blast of force from behind Dos that was powerful enough to tumble him back to the ground.

“The Demon is not on the ground, feathers. And you should never turn from an opponent,” Shay mocked after landing a final debilitating strike on Uno. Dos rolled away from Shay so that he’d have time to stand before Shay could move in on him, but he managed to move right in the way of Tres, giving Demon enough time to right his footing and lash out- short sword in his right hand now instead of the dagger.

His strike didn’t land, but the change in advantage still brought on a bout of strange curses from Tres, though he silenced quickly as the large door at the end of the hall opened up slowly.