When his eyes sprung open it was not out of fear or shock but out of pain. Every part of his body hurt, most especially his chest. It felt like sothing had gone right through it.
He wheezed, gasping for air. His vision was hazy, he tried to identify where he was but it was too dark to.
His back was to a cold wall, and he was suspended a few feet off the ground. Panic struck as he saw the dark blade pinning him to the wall.
"What the hell, is going on?" His mind spasd. "Last thing I rember, I was choking in my room when."
"The ssage...!"
He wanted to break free but his body was drained to power. A sound interrupted his chaotic thoughts, it was the sound of shoes clacking. They seed to draw close to him by the second.
Perhaps he would have been afraid, if his body still had the power to. But he could only wait in pained silence till he saw the silhouette of a man cladded in silver robes like that of a priest.
His head was bald and he had a cleanly shaved beard, dark brown eyes and a long wooden staff in his hands. He had the look of a saint from a church.
"I feel like I know this guy?" He thought to himself. "Yes I’ve read about him sowhere, isn’t that... Savant Gerald, the saint that declared Davoz the chosen one?"
"I’m crazy if I can see fictional people before my eyes."
The saint cocked his head and looked at Davoz with cold eyes.
"What’s this, why doesn’t he look the least bit worried that I could die?"
"I am currently hallucinating that I’m in Davoz’s body right, then he should be grieving. Or maybe he’s not doing that because he can bring back to life. Yeah, that sounds about right."
Savant Gerald’s eyes remained void of emotion, he looked at the falled hero for a few seconds before finally speaking.
His voice slow and ticulous, "Davoz the hero, Davoz the deliverer, Davoz the bastard son of a harlot."
Davoz’s eyes widened.
Savant Gerald continued. "It was sickening hearing the mortals sing praises to your na for so long. But you served your purpose so I guess I should at least tell you before you die. You deserve that much honour."
"What the hell is he saying?"
"The chosen one will be born on the night with no stars, as the son of noble blood and tainted blood. He will journey to the land of the eternal night to claim the phoenix fla which he will use to defeat the dark lord." The saints world seed to grow darker with each passing second but his face barely flinched, "You mortals are so gullible..."
Davoz’s heart sank.
"Do you know how I ca up with your legend, boy? A bottle of wine, a bored night, and a lie no one dared question. Defeating the dark lord was never a priority of ours from the beginning. But if you had beaten him, that would have been good."
"Wait, wait—so the prophecy was a drunk priest’s fanfiction? Are you kidding ?!"
Savant Gerald blinked for the first ti since he arrived, it was slow, as if mocking him further. "This world exists in many planes, all interwoven into each other but only one intrigues . I wish to create a god!"
Davoz’s mind imploded.
"What kind of bullshit is he singing? Is this so kind of epilogue to the original story?"
"I needed three things two of which was the undying phoenix fla which has been integrated into you, the cursed seal which the dark lord has and ashes of a fallen god."
The saint reached out to the sword impaling Davoz to the wall and pulls it out in one go. Instead of falling to the ground he is suspended above the ground by the saints staff casting a rung above his head.
"In your heart are those two components."
Davoz, gnashed his teeth as he spoke. "Why do all this?"
"Why? Yes, I could have gotten it myself but where’s the fun in that?" Gerald’s hand slid into his chest like water through sand. No pain— just pressure, crushing, until sothing warm and wet left his body. His heart. Beating, still. Held like a trophy. "I wanted to see humanity suffer. I created the dark lord, then I created a false hero which I served up like a lamb. I gave the mortals hope and I took it back, you are not the first just the latest one of humanity’s little fools."
"It was I who made your father fall in love with a harlot, it was I who delayed your birth till the appropriate ti. I created you, surrounded you with loved ones and took them all, one at a ti. It’s quite amusing how your covered your pain with the delusions that you were a hero."
"You are nothing more than a puppet in my ga."
Savant Gerald’s lips curled slightly to travel what might have been a smile. "This story is mine, and mine alone."
"No." Davoz moaned.
The saint looked away from his body. "Gods do not share the sa table as n, rember that as your soul burns in the seven hells."
Davoz gnashed his teeth in unadulterated rage. "I’ll kill you, I’ll make your story crumble before your eyes."
The saint stopped just as he was about to leave. His silver cloak hovered in the air as he spoke, "You mortals have the most amusing delusions, you think it makes you special."
Davoz watched the saint vanished into a swarm to fireflies, the cave fell into darkness yet again. And he collapsed to the ground, a hand held him by the should before he could touch the ground.
"No, no. It’s not ti for you to die yet, you have to pick up where he left off." The voice was childish almost playful. "How about we have a chat first."
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