Past II

In what seemed like no time at all, Manyu had grown into a young man. Continuously stalked by Demons, he made certain to move lightly and resisted the temptation to lodge in a settlement of any kind--however few of them remained. Gria had become humanity's sole bastion of hope, able to repel smaller groups of Demons using magic and sheer numbers. King Meridon II remained in power, soon to be succeeded by his son, though the ageing king was reaching the end of his rope in terms of his approval. Mounting unrest within the city would soon give rise to a revolt, with citizens demanding that a leader more economically experienced be granted the throne. As crime soared, Gria was on the brink of consuming itself from the inside-out.

Manyu knew little of the world's affairs. He had learned to avoid traversing the lonely highways altogether, knowing that if he came across one of the country's few surviving traders or mercenaries, they would be slaughtered by Demons. Even in the nation's sorry state, a rumour had begun to circulate regarding a black-haired man who supposedly summoned Demons wherever he walked.

Over the course of a decade and more, Manyu had seen for himself what the worst of humanity had to offer. Bandits wandering the roads as if they owned the country, children abandoned at the perimeters of forests to be devoured by wild beasts, madmen given in completely to despair slaughtering whoever they encountered, believing they knew what was best for the world. For Manyu, Tor had never been a place of peace, but in the earliest days of his youth, he could at least glimpse the beauty life had to offer through the heavy curtain of war. But as he grew, hope became more difficult to spot. Even the familial camaraderie within the country's few surviving villages had given way to bickering and selfishness. There was no escaping the threat of Demonkind, but humanity was accelerating towards its ultimate fate. Even the far-fetched stories of the legendary Hero had ceased completely.

-At least, for a while. He had almost certainly missed the news for years thanks to his solitary lifestyle, but when another trader's fate was sealed by engaging him in a conversation on the road, Manyu couldn't help but be stricken by his optimism. The man wore a smile as if he was certain everything would be just fine, and a moment later, he divulged why that was the case--A young man had appeared who supposedly held the power to vanquish Demons.

His name was Barion, naturally, though neither Manyu nor the trader knew that detail. It was an unbelievable story, but at the mention of a so-called 'Sword of Light', Manyu's interest was piqued. His encounter with the Goddess of Darkness was still fresh in his mind. It wasn't the kind of occasion one easily forgot about. His very own Sword of Darkness had been the final word in his many run-ins with Demons over the years. He understood well the authenticity of its power, but the prophecy foretold by the disfigured angel within that chapel hadn't come to fruition.

He was to steer the world towards its salvation. It was the very definition of a heroic destiny, but if that was the case, why would he be given a sword of darkness, as opposed to a sword of light? It was a question worth investigating. Manyu had been straying across the land without purpose for longer than he could keep track of. His heart longed for a reason--any reason, to continue clinging to life. And so, pointedly aware of his curse, he wandered in the direction of Gria, where the newly-crowned Hero was said to reside.

"Wait-" As the campfire smouldered beside them, Barion interrupted his story, "I remember that day. When we first met."

"It's also an important memory for me." He replied, "I was floored to see that you were no mere myth. The incarnation of a legend, standing before my very eyes… and, the power you displayed just a few hours later. It was eye-opening."

"So, you knew that you were going to draw all those Demons towards the city?"

"Don't say that as if I had a choice in the matter."

"Meeting me couldn't have been more important than keeping the safest place in Tor free of Demons."

"But it was." Manyu challenged, "To see if the Hero had truly appeared, I would have made any sacrifice. For the first time, I travelled somewhere with a purpose in my heart. I cared for only two people in that accursed city--my mother and my father. Not a thing had changed since my departure. His Majesty had remained a despot, and citizens perished of starvation in droves with each passing day. If the rumours were false--if you had never appeared, then what hope would they have had to survive?"

"Even so, they didn't deserve to die needlessly."

"That's exactly the kind of answer I would expect from you." He frowned, "Not that it mattered. Your defending of the city was the beginning of your legend as a Hero, and I saw exactly what I wanted to see--the Sword of Light."

"Where did you go afterwards? You weren't in the city anymore."

"North, naturally." Manyu answered, "To my destined sanctum."

"The Demon King's castle… why would you go there?" Barion asked, "If you felt responsible for killing people with your curse, why would you even consider becoming the Demon King? It doesn't sound to me like you were a bad person in the slightest, just stricken with a terrible fate."

"What comes to mind when you imagine the Demon King, Barion?"

"Imagine? I've got one sitting next to me right now."

"What I mean by that is--what do you think would ever push a man to seek the end of the world?"

"Nothing." He responded, "People face hardships all the time. They might lash out, but never in a way like that. Even the most hateful people don't want to see their own world destroyed. That's why I don't understand why you turned out the way you did."

"Do you think I was pushed into desiring the total annihilation of life?" Manyu continued, "What you say is true. Never once were my actions dictated by hatred. A child who kicks and screams when they're challenged doesn't have what it takes to don the mantle of Demon King."

"So… you did it out of choice?"

"It was never my choice. Our futures are set in stone, Barion. You know this well." He reminded, "The two of us… we were born--no, we were created to fit the moulds of Hero and Demon King. There isn't a single other person more worthy of claiming either role than you or me."

"I don't want to believe in destiny."

"-But you know it can't be resisted. The will of the Goddesses is absolute."

"Goddesses… I've only ever heard of the Goddess of Light." Barion muttered, "Was that woman who spoke to you in the chapel really another one?"

"If not, then what else could it have been?"

"Sometimes I do wonder." He replied, "If the legend of the Hero is truly set in stone, then fine. I don't care. But why does it exist? What sort of will do the Goddesses exert onto the world that requires this pointless conflict to repeat every 500 years? What do we accomplish by fighting one-another?"

"The answer to that question continues to elude me. But know this, Barion-" Manyu warned, "There is a greater purpose to this farce. This cycle. One I doubt either of us can fully understand. I know you can hear it, too--the whispering from the night sky. The void which hangs amidst the stars."

"Black Luna."

"So you do know…" He paused, "That name means nothing to me, but, inexplicably, it crosses my mind whenever my gaze wanders to the great abyss above our heads. I can hear a tone. Endless noise. The whispers are impossible to make out, but I know they're trying to lead me somewhere."

"Do you know the great tower in the Steppe?" Barion asked.

"The metal monolith? I've heard of it, but never seen it for myself."

"Fusala thinks that Crucibles are made from the same kind of metal." He explained, "She said… that it was possible they'd somehow fallen from the sky."

"She's clever. I've seen them fall before." Manyu confirmed, "At the time of my arrival at the castle, the northern Steppe was covered with them. They fell from the heavens like gifts from the Goddess of Darkness, but they always unnerved me. Crucibles are… too perfect. Their dimensions, the fineness of their craftsmanship… perhaps they are a gift from our mysterious Luna."

"Manyu… why did you become the Demon King?" Barion requested to know that simple fact yet again, "You're just as disgusted by Demonkind as anyone else is. You aren't an evil man. I don't understand why we had to fight all those years ago, or why you tried to stop us."

"Do you remember the state of Gria after you repelled the Demon attack, Barion?" He responded, "The seeds of hope were sown that day. What was once a city of depraved morals quickly transformed into a bastion of resistance against Demonkind. The events of that day legitimised your position as the saviour of this world, and inspired by your struggles, the people of Gria--no, of the entire world, joined forces to ensure your success."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Darkness is needed to unite the world, Barion. Without true evil, we find imperfections in everything around us. But when presented with the embodiment of their pain, people will gladly bury their hatchets, and come together to face a greater threat." Manyu explained, "That was my destiny. I loved this world enough to destroy it--or, at least, to attempt to. For I understood the 'truth' of the legend on that day when we first met. In order for there to be a Hero, there must also be a Demon King. I took up the mantle of darkness because the world needed me to. With the Sword of Darkness in hand, I guided its people towards the salvation they so craved, with you at the helm of their journey."

"You were… guiding us?"

"Isn't that obvious? After all-" He looked towards the night sky, "When darkness threatens the world… the 'Hero' will always appear."