Part 3

So as I have said before, my breeding tends to run more towards my demonic heritage rather than mortal.  As a result I have no problem identifying myself as a demon for that is mostly what I am biologically, thought I don’t act like one.

The spawn I bore in hell for the most part were no different.  They were three quarters demon after all.  But I noticed with some of them that their human heritage showed through for they were born with mortal souls.  It is for those I feel the most sorrow for in the dark of night when my dreams and nightmares decide to not give me peace.  They were the ones who truly had hope, for they were born innocent and mortal.  If they had not been born in hell, they may have lived good, full lives.

I lost count of how many I bore, but I remember the last.  My time in hell was, unbeknownst to me, halfway through, and my father felt me sufficiently broken in mind and body to begin my training properly.  My child was born shortly after my training began and my father allowed her to live.  I didn’t know why at the time, but as they say time makes fools of us all and I was foolish for not seeing what would come of that.

I won’t go into details on what I went through for my training, for those are long and mostly boring.  Suffice to say he taught me much, honed my skills, and made me stronger.  I think I grew in his favor, or else he was searching for more ways to bend and twist my soul into darkness, for he even made a few gifts to me.  They were few and far between and I destroyed most of them or left them behind in hell when I left, but for one.

It is common for demon lords to own lesser demons from other plains as slaves.  Demons hold the market on the superiority complex, each thinking they are the best and set over the others.  It is also common  for demons to make gifts of their kin in an attempt to either curry favor, or plant spies and assassins the the house of their enemies.  I had little fear of the latter happening, for my father needed me alive, but the former was a given for me as he needed to know if I was truly heading into the direction he wanted me to go.  So when he gifted me with a pair of slaves for my own, I was not surprised.

He presented me with Cinder and Ember, twin imp demons from the realm of Greed.  Of course that is not their real names, but an abbreviation that makes it faster to speak in deamonic and easier for mortal tongues to pronounce.  They were a common enough gift, for in most of the realms in hell imps are favored not only because they are small, quick and crafty, but also for their body parts which serve double duty as spell components and favored dishes.  The twins as I have grow to call them, were unremarkable when it comes to imp demons.  More wings than body, spindly arms and legs, sharp little faces and beady little eyes, Cinder and Ember were typical in every way, until I brought them topside.

They were given to me as younglings to raise and train on my own, another test of my father’s to see how well his training was rubbing off on me.  So we continued on like that, I training the younglings, my father training me, and my daughter living and growing and learning amongst us.

I swore long ago that I would never speak her name, so I will not say it now.  At first I thought that in forgetting her name I would make what happened less real.  But nothing would make what happened, or what I did, any less real.

I had hope for my child at first, despite her bloodlines, for with my human blood I saw something in her that was unique in demons.  I saw an aura around her which gave me that hope, for it showed me that at least some part of her was mortal and there was a chance to save her if I could keep her alive that long.  I did what I could to subvert the darkness around the both of us that threatened to consume her, to try and save her, but I failed.

Day by day, little by little, I saw the brightness in her aura fade until there was nothing left.  And when an aura fades from a person, there is nothing human left in them.  I knew my daughter was lost to me, and I could not leave her in the hands of my father so I took her from him.

Part 5