Everything was dark. And cold.
He was lost.
He closed and opened his eyes, but still, he saw nothing.
He felt the wind on his bare body. It was biting him, hurting him.
He tried to walk for some time, but it seemed there was nothing.
He knew this place was wrong. Why wasn't there any light ?
He tried to call out to his mother, a hundred times, maybe, but only the echo of his own voice answered him.
He didn't know what this place was. He didn't know where it was. He didn't know how he ended up there.
But he knew he was cold, and lonely, and desperate.
He felt something in his stomach, and in his throat.
He felt tears on his cheeks, and realized he was crying.
All he wanted was for his father to come, and rescue him.
Fight all this darkness around him with his sword, and bring him home.
But no one was coming.
He ended up curling in a ball.
He was so cold.
"Look at him ! So pathetic !" Said someone with a screeching voice.
But he didn't care about how scary it sounded. Instead, he got up to his feet, as hope started to build in his little chest. Maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought.
"Yeah, you're sure he can handle it ? He seems too weak," said another voice, doubt dripping off her every word.
"Yes, sisters. He's got the magical potential in him already," answered a third voice, and the boy could hear the smile when that person spoke.
"Excuse me, I'm lost !" He yelled. "I want to go home ! Please ! Help me !"
He only heard laughs. But he tried again, and again, and again. But the laughs just kept getting stronger, and it scared him. He didn't understand why they were laughing. He needed help ! Why weren't they helping ? Why were they laughing ?
Finally, the voices died, and he was left alone once again.
He tried to call out to them again. Even if they were scary, at least he wasn't alone.
No one answered, but a sudden fire started out of nowhere all around him, surrounding him. The intense smoke made him cough immediately, and he his throat hurt. He started to cry, and fell to his knees, watching the flames go higher, and higher. He was too weak to stay on his feets.
The laughter was back as soon as he fell on his back, his breathing hard. The sound seemed stronger. But, at the same time, he felt as if all his senses had been tripled. And, not wanting to die like that, he rolled onto his side, ready to get up and try to get away from the flames, one way or another.
And then he saw it. The Demon.
It didn't stand too far away, and the boy could easily see him in details, despite the smoke getting thicker around them. He seemed to have been made of red, hard rocks. There was no emotion on his face. And the more he looked at it, the more he felt like it was just another statue. Like he saw hundreds of them already. That's what he tried to believe.
Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was a prey. And this statue was a predator.
It kept staring at him, and the boy feared that, the moment he would blink, the demon would get to him. That was too much to handle. He didn't know how to fight back demons. He only ever read about them in his father's library. And his wizard training hadn't begun yet, so there was no point in calling out his magic.
He felt his eyes burning up, and tears kept coming, as he let them opened for too long. He tried to walk backwards, but the fire hurt his back, and the boy yelped as he turned around. He acknowledged the flames burning bright before him, and stayed frozen for a minute, realizing that he'd let go of the demon's stare.
A sob escaped him. And then another. He couldn't keep them away.
He heard the voices chanting something he couldn't understand above him, and heard the demon walking towards him, the sound of his footsteps resonating in this strange, dark world. And he couldn't get away, there was nowhere to go.
He decided to curl up into a ball, and hid his face in his knees, putting his arms around his head.
The fire was burning his feet, and he couldn't bear it. But he wasn't courageous enough to get up and run. Or to even move back from an inch, knowing the Demon was close.
Its hand touched his shoulder, and he cried harder, burying his face in his knees even more, if that was possible. Some part of him was hoping the demon was doing that out of kindness for him. That he only wanted to reassure him, or maybe even, save him from this dark place.
But he heard it laugh behind him, and then felt an excruciating pain where the hand was, before it spread to his whole body. He immediately ended up on his back again, the face of the Demon right above him, with his cruel eyes staring at him.
But he didn't care about him. All he could concentrate on was the pain, spreading from his head to his toes, burning everything inside of him. As if something wanted to crawl out of his skin.
He ended up arching his back, and the back of his head brutally hit the ground. But this was nothing. It didn't hurt him in the moment.
Somewhere, in the back on his mind, he registered that he had stopped screaming. His mouth was just opened, but nothing was coming out. He didn't have air in his lungs either, and his vision started to turn to black.
It felt like his entire body was caught on fire.
He tried to call for help, as he felt himself fading.
To his mom, who had always been there for him. To help him defend himself, and stay focused on what he liked, instead of what others liked. She was the best, and he didn't understand why she wasn't here, with him, ready to save him once again.
So he tried to call out his father's name. He was no warrior like his mother, but he knew how to fight. Maybe he could've fought the demon back, or teleported him out of this horrible place before healing him. Then everything would've been okay.
But help never came. No matter how hard he tried, how much he tried to scream, nobody heard him.
The boy felt the rest of his strength leave him, as his last cry was but a whisper, and his eyes rolled out in his head, making his vision go black. He still felt the fire in him, and around him, but there was no point fighting it. He wanted it to be over.
He remembered the face of the demon, and his hatred against it started to grow. But he pushed it aside, as he let his young mind wonder about why this was happening to him. Only one explanation came to him.
This was Hell.
"So, you decide to leave me for them ?" He asked, crossing his arms.
If she could see he was hurt, he didn't care. She would feel bad, and maybe he could use that to make her come back to him. Where she belonged.
"Yes. I'm trying to make amends. I saw the light, and it's not too late for you, either !" She said.
He could hear the desperation in her voice.
How dare she ? He thought to himself. He was the desperate one here ! She was betraying him, leaving him behind her, but she dared act as if she didn't have a choice.
"Not too late for me ?" He decided to ask, as he raised an eyebrow.
"Yes !" She answered, obviously thinking she was convincing him. "You could help us fight The Ancestral Witches, and restore order and peace on all the realms !"
He smirked.
"And whatever happened to your quest for power, Griffin ?" He pondered.
"Power means nothing, Baltor, and I came to realize that. You should too. If you just opened your mind you-"
But she didn't have the time to finish this sentence, as he suddenly attacked her. He wanted her to stop talking her nonsense. He wanted her to hurt. To realize she was doing the wrong thing. This was not the witch he knew. The light side must've been messing with her head.
But just as his attack was going to hit her, a shield stopped his spell, and Griffin sighed.
"I'm sorry," was all she said before deciding to fly away as fast as possible to another part of the battle field.
He prepared himself to fly after her, but a blonde fairy and some warrior appeared before him.
"And who may you be ?" He wondered aloud, suppressing the need to laugh. They looked pathetic. The fairy didn't even have an Enchantix form. Yet, she acted as if she could handle herself against him.
"We're part of the Company of Light," proudly announced the fairy as he chuckled. "My name's Faragonda, and this is Hagen. We're here to stop you."
He laughed, and the fairy didn't seemed to be thrown off guard by his reaction. But she quickly realized his guard was down, and tried to attack.
He let the spell hit him, without it causing any damage, and just brushed off where it had landed.
"Is that all you got ?" He laughed.
But he heard the retreat cry. On instinct, he turned his head toward the sound, and saw that it was indeed his side who had declared forfeit.
"I told you we were here to stop you," she said, before disappearing with the warrior.
He looked at where they had been standing, before letting a wave of his magic destroy everything around him.
They had trapped him. Griffin had been a diversion. And because of them, they were being defeated.
The next time he would see her, he would make her pay.
He was weak, but still, if he had the eternity before him, he might as well not look too pathetic.
So he got up from where he sat, and simply smirked as they froze him.
He saw Griffin's sad eyes stare at his mischievous ones, and he didn't let go of her gaze, even as he felt his body grow cold. Oh, she would look at him, until he was nothing but a block of ice. She would regret ever betraying him. And when he would get the opportunity to get out of the cursed dimension, he would go after her, and make her suffer for her betrayal.
But, as the ice grew around him, he was surprised by the fact that the darkness he expected did not come.
In fact, he was very much awake, and aware of everything around him. His eyes were still fixated on Griffin's, but he couldn't change his facial expression anymore. Despite that, he felt himself automatically trying to widen his eyes at this realization, but of course, found that he couldn't.
He began panicking. But he couldn't even move.
His magic was bound, and his blood frozen. He couldn't react.
When they let him fall, he felt despair.
He wanted to scream, or run. He wanted to do simple magic, but he couldn't.
Maybe this was some kind of hell.
First chapter on Baltor's perspective on the events of A Deal With The Devil. 3 chapters should follow quickly. Probably once a week, because I really want them to be perfect, and with as less mistakes as I can.
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See ya'll quickly.