After helen departure avon stood there watching his siblings as they slept, his mind consumed by Helen's last words. "Become a king and restore the honor of humankind... Only you have the ability to do that... As for the others... I'm afraid they won't hold on for too long... at least for her..." He looked at them, a heavy sense of dread settling in his thoughts. What did she mean, "they won't hold on"? Did she mean they couldn't contain their... monstrous side?
A sudden, loud thud from the wall shattered his thoughts. He stood up, his hand instinctively moving toward a weapon, but a strange sense of unease stopped him. He crept closer to the wall and listened, hearing a soft sobbing and the frantic sound of scratching.
He leaned in, straining to hear more, and then a weak, cracking voice broke through the sounds. "I... I'm sorry... Mother... I'm sorry... Please don't be mad at me... Please..."
Avon's mind flashed back to Helen's final wish: "One last thing, dear... that wall is an illusion made by me... once I am gone, it will disappear... and you will find her... my daughter... my sweet Violet. I want you to kill her... Please... I don't want her to see this ugly world... she can't be cured either... Please put her at peace... Be careful, dear, you may see some unpleasant things inside..."
He wanted to honor her request, but hearing the girl's sorrow filled him with a different emotion. He looked at Sara sleeping soundly and thought, What if she was in her place? Would I kill my own sister without trying to find something to help her? There has to be another way. It has to.
Avon returned to the sleeping children and gently covered them with the thickest blankets he could find. He crouched beside Sara and placed his hand on her head, relieved to find her temperature was normal. He glanced back at the wall, which was becoming almost transparent, a clear sign that Helen was likely gone.
He took a stick from the tool table, snapped it in half, and tied a rope around it to create a wide noose. He wasn't planning on killing her, but on capturing her. With a firm grip, he prepared himself, but then he saw something strange. The wall, which had almost disappeared, suddenly reappeared for a moment before shattering into pieces like glass.
Avon was ready for whatever came next. He heard her crying, felt her agony and sadness.
"Answer me," she cried, her voice raw. "Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this? Tell me, Mother! Do you feel anything?"
Avon approached slowly, entering the shattered space. He saw blood everywhere. He knelt and touched a trail. It was warm and fresh. He felt a sudden, fleeting desire for it, a strange craving he quickly suppressed. He knew what he was, and he knew what he had to do. His face grew serious. He was prepared not just to capture her, his very first succubus, but to earn the honor of killing her, as he had promised.
He followed the trail, the crying getting louder. He began to notice other blood trails that weren't new. With the succubus knowledge gifted to him by Helen's blood, he could tell their age at a glance.
"This blood... is 300 years old. That's impossible!"
He found something white in a corner and moved toward it cautiously, his stick at the ready. He stopped dead in his tracks. He saw dozens upon dozens of human bones, all male, ranging in age from 15 to 40. Their skin and flesh were still strangely present, but their necks and stomachs were shredded, as if from the inside out.
The last victim was a young boy who had died 300 years ago. Avon knelt and touched his head, and a torrent of images flooded his mind—a vision of the torture, the extreme suffering the boy had endured. Avon's anger and grief erupted in tears. He felt the boy's pain as if it were his own.
He stood, looking down at the bones. "I am sorry," he whispered. "I promise I won't let this happen again."
He moved faster now, toward the sound of the crying. He saw a figure on the ground with dark wings, her face buried in her hands. He knew it was her, and he prepared to strike. But she looked up, and he froze.
Her face was tear-streaked and young. "Please... whoever you are," she begged, her voice cracking. "End it. I know... I know everything. I'm sorry for it, but I had to. That's what they said. To survive."
Avon stood, eyes wide. Her hands were covered in blood, with deep scratches on her stomach—fresh wounds that were already healing. She looked at him, begging again. "End it. Please. I don't want to live like this anymore."
He set his stick aside and pulled out his blade, forged from pure iron—a material Helen had told him was the only thing that could truly harm a succubus. The girl saw the blade, closed her eyes, and bowed her head, offering her neck. He raised the weapon, ready to end her suffering.
But then, he heard her whisper. "I'm sorry... dear big sister!"
Avon's blade stopped just inches from her skin. Tears welled in his eyes. "Big... sister?" he whispered. He lowered his blade and sheathed it.
"Is... is it over?" she asked.
"No," he said softly. "It's not."
"Why won't you end it?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and anger. "You have a golden chance to earn your first kill! I know who you are, Avon. I heard you and saw you all these years behind this wall."
"Then I believe you know why I won't kill you," he said.
"The same? We are nothing alike! What do you know of me? Why should I live in this world that took everything from me? Made me like this?"
"Yes! I know!" he said, his voice raw. "You said you had a big sister. What was she like?"
"She was beautiful, kind, honest," she said. "She always looked after me. She stood beside me. She protected us."
"And you know what you've become, and what you've done to these people?"
"Why do you ask such questions? You're here to kill me, so do it!"
"They told you it was for survival, didn't they? But you didn't know what you were doing. You just did what you were told."
"I had to! They said I wasn't human anymore!"
"But in my eyes... you still are."
Her eyes widened in shock. Avon sat down beside her. "We are the same. I am a succubus myself... well, half of one, anyway."
"But I can't live without feeding on someone, and you know that!"
"That's not true at all," Avon said. "Do you know the last time you did it? It was 300 years ago. I believe you didn't go to that part of the cave because you couldn't bear to see the people you killed."
Minerva shook her head. "I didn't kill them... I... I had to..."
"I know," Avon said with a calm smile. "And I don't blame you. Do you remember your name?"
"It's been so long... it will be hard."
"Take your time," Avon said. "I'm not in a hurry. My journey can wait."
"My name is M... Minerva," she finally said.
Avon looked at her, his vision blurring with tears. He saw an echo of his own big sister in her face. He knelt and hugged her, feeling a profound sense of familiarity.
"Are you okay, Avon?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "You look like someone I used to know. Beautiful, like the moon shining in the darkest night."
She blushed and looked away. "I don't want to hurt you, Avon. I don't know if I can stop myself."
"You're wrong," he said. "What you do from this day forward is your choice. You're not a curse or a burden. You are now one of us." He stood and offered her a hand. "Come with us. Our journey begins here."
Minerva took his hand and stood.
Meanwhile, Arcadius woke up, feeling the strange new energy in his body. He saw his sisters sleeping and noticed a path in the wall that wasn't there before. He drew his blade, his senses heightened. He followed a blood trail, finding the pile of bones but showing no expression. He waited, then lunged, cutting the head off a decoy puppet.
"Since when did you start using decoys?" Arcadius said into the silence.
"Since now," a voice replied. "When did you wake up?"
Avon emerged, followed by Minerva.
"Brother!" Arcadius exclaimed.
"Brother," Avon replied, and they hugged. "I saw the path and decided to investigate," Arcadius explained. "You?"
"Too bad you didn't see it break down," Avon said.
"No worries, I'll have plenty of chances to see walls fall," Arcadius laughed. "Man, that juice was wild. Did the others wake up?"
"Not yet," Avon said. "Where's Helen, and why are there mountains of bones here?"
"You can tell how old they are, can't you?" Avon asked.
"For some reason, yeah. By the way, Avon, why do I feel like there's someone behind you?"
"Because there is," Avon said with a small smile. "I want you to meet Minerva."
Minerva stepped out. Arcadius instantly recognized her as a succubus and prepared to attack. "Stay back!" he shouted.
"No, wait!" Avon yelled, shoving Arcadius to the ground. "What are you doing? Can't you see she's..."
Arcadius saw Avon shielding the girl. "Avon? What are you doing? Is she mind-controlling you?"
"No!" Avon snapped. "She's Helen's daughter!"
Arcadius's tense stance immediately broke. He looked back at Avon, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. "Why didn't you say anything, bro, damn!"
Avon gave him a hand to get up. "I was about to, before you went all wild-man on her."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Arcadius said, dusting himself off with a huff. "I just hope I didn't stutter her."
"Why don't you go apologize to her? That would be a nice thing to do."
"Sure, your highness," Arcadius grumbled, handing his sword to Avon. As Avon fussed over his clothes, Arcadius leaned in and whispered, "Hey! Hey! I got this. Just watch me work."
Avon just shook his head with a laugh. "Good luck."
Arcadius puffed out his chest, walked toward Minerva, and said in his smoothest voice, "Hey there... what's up?"
Avon covered his face with his hand, trying not to laugh. Arcadius glanced back and pointed a finger at his throat. "You little...! I will cut you good this time!" he mouthed to Avon.
Minerva, still a little shy, offered a soft, "H-hey..."
Arcadius took a deep breath. "Hey... I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I didn't... mean to, you know."
"It's... f-fine," Minerva said. "No harm was done."
"By the way, my name's Arcadius," he said, trying to be cool.
"Yes, I know who you are," Minerva replied with a small smile.
Arcadius's confident posture crumbled. He looked back at Avon, completely baffled. "Wait... you know? B-but from where...?" He looked at Avon, who just pointed to his hands as if he had no idea. "Oh, of course you do! What am I talking about?" he said, shaking his head. He looked back at Avon and mouthed, "I'll get you for that." He turned back to Minerva. "Anyway, I'm heading back in case you need anything. All right then, see ya!"
"Thank you," Minerva said. "You're so kind."
She looked at him with a warm smile, and Arcadius's cheeks flushed bright red. He looked away, stammering, "It's... it's nothing really. Hahaha."
He hurried back to Avon.
"That worked out, didn't it?" Avon teased.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Arcadius mumbled. "Tell me. Why are we keeping a succubus alive? I know she's Helen's daughter, but... she's gonna be a problem, isn't she?"
"I don't think so, brother," Avon said. "She's just... innocent. Another young kid caught up in all this mess. Don't blame her for what she is; blame the ones who couldn't protect her. Now we've got to explain this to the girls."
"Sara will understand," Arcadius said. "But Vernara can be hotheaded sometimes. What's the plan now?"
"We prepare for the journey," Avon said. "A journey to bring justice and order to this world... a journey to save humankind from extinction."
"A journey, huh? It's going to be a long way. Where are you heading?"
"I was thinking of going back to the village with Sara to get our stuff, then finding whatever is left of our parents' kingdom for a new start. You?"
"I don't know," Arcadius said. "Maybe I'll go back to the village for my family's insignia and then head to Arcadia. I hope it didn't fall after all these years."
"Your people are strong. I'm sure they survived."
"Yeah, I trust them," Arcadius replied. "So, preparing for the journey?"
"Yeah," Avon said, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Preparing for the journey."