Family and Fire

The fire crackled and sputtered in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the tired faces huddled around it. Anya sadly sighed as she stirred the embers, her auburn hair now heavily streaked with silver. Andre was sitting in front of her, his jaw tightly clenched, the muscles visibly tense. Eventually, he shattered the profound silence.

"Eristia," he croaked, the word harsh in his mouth. "What happened to it"

Anya's eyes filled with tears, her voice faltering as she talked. She stopped speaking, wiping away a single tear with her hand, following your...

"My death?" Andre completed the sentence for her, his tone lacking emotion.

"They divided the kingdom as if they were slicing a roast chicken," she said, her voice filled with strong emotions. "Took everything solely for their own benefit."

Andre slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small room. "Took it? Eristia? Every bloody inch of it was mine! Built with sweat, tears, and..." his voice dropped to a growl, "...sacrifices I wouldn't even ask my own mother about!"

His red eyes, normally warm and inviting, now burned with an unnatural intensity. He swung his gaze to Marcus, who sat stiffly in the corner chair, his face a mask of unease.

"And what about the fancy-pants Jade Kingdom and the Bloodsand bastards?" Andre spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Tore down their damn tiers, did they? Decided they didn't need them anymore?"

Marcus shifted in his seat, his jaw working silently for a moment before he spoke. "That was my father's call, Andre, not mine," he said, his voice low but firm.

Nana Elara, Andre's grandmother, piped up from her rocking chair, her voice surprisingly strong for her age. "Andre, honey, you can't just waltz in there like some… some barbarian warlord."

Andre snorted, a harsh, humorless sound. "Waltz in? Nana, they wouldn't recognize me if they tripped over me in broad daylight. I ain't the same Elian they used to know."

He swept his hand across his face, a shadow of something ominous crossing his gaze. The memory of the transformation still caused him to feel fear. The person who had dedicated himself to constructing Eristia was no longer recognizable. He was something... extra. Something... unique.

Anya extended her hand to him, but he recoiled, speaking in a barely audible voice. "Don't."

The silence lingered, dense and burdensome. Anya straightened her shoulders at last, as a hint of rebellion took over the fear in her gaze. "What are you now, Andre?" she inquired, her voice remarkably calm.

The flame flickered, ejecting a spark that sizzled on the fireplace. The only sound in the room besides Anya's ragged breaths was the heavy silence, with each breath a small gasp. Her hand was poised above a cracked teacup, fingers clenched tight around the handle. In the end, she lifted the cup to her mouth unsteadily, but didn't take a sip.

"A demon," she whispered, the word a rusty hinge creaking open after years of disuse. Her voice cracked, barely a sound above the crackling fire. "You... you're a demon now?"

Andre gazed back at her, his eyes ablaze with an eerie intensity that caused Anya to recoil. The familiar warm red pools she knew had transformed into blood red gems, radiating a cold inner fire. "Part of me," he amended, his deep voice causing shivers to run down her back.

"Azurael the Ensnarer. He... we are one now."

Across the room, Marcus moved restlessly in his seat, his facial expression showing a mixture of conflicting feelings. His eyes briefly showed fear before being overtaken by a sense of awe. Nana Eia sat motionless in her rocking chair, which was unusual for her. Her elderly hands, twisted and rough like tree roots, clenched the armrests with a strength that contradicted her fragile body.

"The triple mage, Elian," Anya gasped, the name feeling unfamiliar as she spoke it. "Is he...?" The word "gone" was lodged in her throat like a bitter pill she couldn't swallow completely.

Andre's face wore a smile devoid of humor, showing off his sharp canines that glistened in the dimming firelight. "Gone," he confirmed, the word sharp as a shard of ice. "Consumed. Replaced." He clenched and unclenched his fist, a faint blue shimmer flickering around his fingertips – a ghostly echo of the power that now thrummed beneath his skin.

Anya noisily placed the teacup on the table, the sound reverberating in the quiet room. "What is it that Azurael... this demon... desires?" she inquired, her voice starting to regain its previous power, a mother's intense love fighting against the fear in her heart.

The word escaped his throat in a growl, Andre stated simply. "What belonged to me by right." What was stolen by those jackals. He rose to his feet, his imposing figure creating a threatening silhouette in the room. The glow of the fire made his features contort unnaturally, emphasizing the unnatural glimmer in his eyes.

"I shall not ask for it, I shall take it by force" he said.

Nana Eia, weak yet determined, eventually uttered words. Despite its weakness, her voice had a strong, determined undertone. "Andre, this is not the person you are. "You would not..."

He interrupted her with a cruel laugh, lacking any hint of amusement. "Would I not?" He spoke in a menacing whisper. "I am no longer the innocent boy who created that empire based on trust and collaboration, Nana. In this world, power is the only language that is truly understood."

Anya stood up, her gaze filled with a fresh rebellion that reflected the flickering flames. "Andre, while you may have evolved, we too have undergone transformation. We won't allow you to be perceived as the monster everyone will see you as."

The atmosphere was charged with implied dangers and a dense quiet settled over the room. Anya faced her monstrous son with determination, conflicted by the battle between a mother's love and the fear evident on her face. Marcus observed, shifting his gaze between them, unsure where his loyalty stood. Nana Eia, quiet yet determined, exuded a calm power that contradicted her age.

Andre gazed at his family, a tumult of feelings churning inside him. Was he really the terrifying creature they dreaded, or was there still a trace of the man he used to be, Elian, hidden under the fury of the demon? His face stayed unreadable in the flickering firelight, but the decision he would make lingered palpably in the air.

Anya's hair stood on end as the air crackled with a raw, primal energy. Andre stood over her, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths that resembled the sounds of a wounded animal rather than her own son. She saw a change in his gaze from the familiar warm amber light to a distant, unfamiliar cold flame. The hesitation briefly flickered within Elian before disappearing completely, giving way to a frightening determination.

A pair of huge, dark wings suddenly burst from Andre's back with a noise that cut through the quiet like a banshee's cry. The taut leathery skin expanded incredibly wide, making the firelight seem small in comparison and creating monstrous shadows that danced like crazy puppets on the walls.

Anya crumpled, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as they spilled over in a torrent down her cheeks. "No," she rasped, her voice thick with a despair so deep it seemed to curdle the air. "No, please, Andre, no!"

The weight of her agony lingered in the atmosphere, suffocating everyone around. Andre quickly reacted, feeling a slight moment of discomfort – perhaps pain? Regret flashed across his face briefly before being overtaken by a mask of icy determination.

"Andre, come here!" Nana Eia's voice, despite being weak and hoarse, snapped like a whip. Her eyes, focused on her grandson, carried a determined shimmer that contradicted her age. Avoid doing what will turn you into a real monster! "You are not yourself!

He stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on an unseen spot past the broken pieces of the ceiling. A loud flapping of his wings caused a powerful blast of air to blow through the room, putting out the fire in a flurry of sparks and sending embers spinning like tiny demons. Anya cried softly, covering her face with her hands while the moonlight, harsh and cold, streamed in through the hole Andre had torn in the ceiling.

Anya's muffled cry was drowned out by the swift rush of air when Andre leaped into the dark sky, his huge wings lifting him with a supernatural elegance. Tears flowed down her cheeks, leaving shiny trails in the dirt that stuck to her face. Tears shook her body, she collapsed to the ground, managing only a croaky whisper as she uttered, "My son... he's gone. My Andre"

Being very practical, Nana Eia slammed her fist on the armrest of her rocking chair, the sound reverberating loudly in the abrupt quietness. She looked quickly at Marcus, who remained frozen in place, his face pale with a blend of fear and a hint of horror.

"Marcus!" she snapped, urgency evident in her sharp voice. You and Res, right now! You must intervene before he takes irreversible action. Before he transforms into the monster they will perceive him to be!"

Marcus reacted to the severity of her tone, suddenly being startled out of his shocked silence. His eyes locked with Nana Eia's, silently begging for direction. However, the elderly woman's expression reflected strong resolve, marked by the wrinkles of a lifetime marked by difficult decisions and intense struggles.

"At this moment!" Nana Eia gruffly repeated the single word, ending any possibility of further discussion. Her unspoken threat created a heavy atmosphere, reminding everyone of the chilling consequences of not taking action.