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Chapter 2-2

Relieved, Kyla sat back down on the bed.

"Thank you very much, Mistress." He punctuated the word with reverence.

"Why mistress? I thought Devon was your master?” Kyla asked confused.

"You saved Azamir's life. Azamir now yours. You can do whatever you want with Azamir.” When Kyla reached out for him, he flinched slightly.

"Don't be afraid of me Azamir. I certainly won't harm you.” Azamir looked at her with his black eyes. Despite his appearance, Kyla wasn't afraid of him. She thought he was somehow ... cute. Even his way of speaking amused her.

"Azamir see Master speak true." Kyla nodded.

"I have no reason to be angry with you." They just looked at each other for a moment until Kyla remembered the little ball in her hand.

"And you mean this is supposed to help me get well again?” She opened her hand and Azamir nodded. "Well then I want to trust you."

"Master get will tired of this - but good for healing." Kyla nodded at him and finally swallowed the small bullet. She was instantly seized by a tiredness that surprised even her. "Azamir..."

He helped her to lie down and covered her up. Kyla's eyes grew heavy and she tried to stay awake for a moment. "Please stay with me, Azamir." Kyla lost the fight and fell asleep. Azamir gently touched her forehead with his hand. He had never had a human as his master. Apparently they weren't as bad as he'd always heard. Azamir decided to take good care of his mistress.

Devon paced his room. He had to think. Time was pressing and he himself longed for his old companion. How many times had he tried to find her, to wake her up again. But every time after he found her, she was dead shortly thereafter. And he had to wait until the next reincarnation. Sometimes it only lasted a few years, sometimes a few centuries.

He stopped and looked out the large window in front of him. His gaze wandered into the distance. For a long time he hadn't noticed the ground, which was paved with countless skeletons of beings he had killed himself. It was a real graveyard. Devon smiled. People used this expression, he himself called it trophies. They bore witness to his past opponents whom he defeated in battle.

He turned away from the window. Raia hadn't changed, even though she was now in a human body and asleep. She was the only one who called him a bastard and survived. He hated being reminded of his human part. Because he really was a bastard. Begotten by a demon and a human woman. Later, at the age of six, his father took him away, killed his mother and taught him everything he knew. It hadn't been easy for him. Mocked by the others, he had to prove more than they did to be recognized. Eventually he killed his father and took his place in the hierarchy. Thanks to his mother, he had the looks of a human, but his heart was like his father's. Centuries later, he met his mother's reincarnation. He watched her and when she died of a plague, she left a little boy behind. Devon took care of him. This boy grew into a handsome man possessed of abilities uncommon in a human. He named him Darian. In the human world you would call him a murderer, in his world a brave and loyal warrior. Thanks to Devon, Darian also possessed immortality.

Devon was jolted out of his thoughts when there was a knock on his door. Shortly thereafter it opened. A figure with countless faces entered. Faces of women and men hidden under his dark blue cloak. In his right hand he held a book, while in the other a gnarled old staff served as a support.

Devon turned to his visitor with a slight smile on his lips, "Dantalion, old friend."

His voice was that of an old man who had endured countless sufferings. There was a hint of displeasure in his voice: "Save your sweet words, Devon. I know you would love to count me among your trophies. But you still need me.” Despite the truth of his words, Devon kept his smile.

"Well, what brings you to me?"

"I saw her," his visitor replied simply. The smile on Devon's lips died immediately. "But don't worry, my -friend-.", he emphasized the word carefully, "I'm not here to contradict you in your plan. I just want to show you what I saw in her heart.” Dantalion took a step closer, raising his staff to slam it noisily into the bare ground. A mirror appeared that could be seen but not touched. Devon stared at his reflection for a moment, until the surface of the mirror began to make little circles. As if a drop falls on the smooth surface of a lake. Shortly thereafter, Kyla appeared. A slight smile played around Dantalion's lips.

"You're not supposed to look into mine." Devon growled at him.

The picture immediately changed and showed a young girl with blond hair. It was that girl that Kyla called as Liara. "That human female is in Raias, or whatever her name is now, Kylas, heart. As long as she retains her memory, Raia will not appear.”

Devon nodded. He had already suspected something like that. He had to kill the human if he wanted Raia back.

"Is there anything else?" Devon asked Dantalion harshly. The mirror vanished into thin air again. "No. That's all.”

“Then get out.”

Dantalion turned to go and stopped just before leaving Devon's chamber.

Without looking around, he asked: "But don't you wonder why Kyla's sight appeared and not Raia's?"

He disappeared, chuckling softly, leaving an angry Devon behind. The old fool would regret that at some point. He still needed him, but once he was done, he would take care of him personally.

When Kyla opened her eyes, Azamir was sitting by her bed, watching her intently. "Ah! Mistress awake! Mistress awake!” Kyla smiled slightly. "Mistress feel better?"

"Yes. But still a bit tired.”

“Then rest, mistress! Until tiredness gone, then mistress healthy.” Kyla nodded as a sign of understanding and shortly afterwards closed her still heavy eyelids.

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