Raizel reclined slowly onto his throne, shadows swirling gently around him, silent witnesses to the weight he was about to unburden. His crimson eyes drifted upward, coldness fading briefly into melancholy, as memories surfaced like whispers.
Fenrir's head gently rested against Raizel's knee, sensing the sorrowful tremor deep within his master's heart. Ignis lay barely conscious on the cold floor, blood staining the stone beneath him. Zephyros knelt, trembling, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.
"You asked who I am," Raizel murmured softly, voice barely above a whisper. "But to truly understand me, you must first understand him—Elijah."
Zephyros shivered involuntarily, startled by the unexpected softness in the demon's voice.
Raizel closed his eyes, letting out a slow, painful breath. "Elijah… He was like the stars trapped in eternal darkness, longing for love but never daring to reach for it. Tall, quiet, eyes gentle yet heavy with unspoken sadness. He smiled rarely, yet when he did, it felt as if even Hell itself paused to glimpse a moment of peace."
Raizel opened his eyes, lost in memories, his voice thickening slightly with emotion. "He took care of me, raised me as his own child, taught me everything I know. He never spoke much of himself, but I could always feel it—his endless longing. All Elijah ever wanted was love, yet fate cruelly ensured he never received it."
Zephyros found himself leaning in, captivated, almost forgetting the brutal violence he'd just witnessed. This wasn't a demon he saw before him now, but a boy carrying the weight of loss.
"Hell," Raizel continued softly, his eyes distant, "was never kind to children. Demons, powerful souls twisted by agony—monsters prowling in darkness seeking weaker prey. Yet Elijah protected me, every moment, every day. He fought tirelessly, bore countless wounds, scars deeper than mere flesh." Raizel smiled sadly. "He always told me, 'Raizel, I won't always be here to protect you. You must grow stronger, stronger than me.' I never understood then, how desperately he meant those words."
Raizel's voice caught slightly. Fenrir let out a gentle rumble of comfort.
"I was just a child, innocent even in Hell," Raizel continued softly. "Too innocent, perhaps. I would wander among monsters, creatures that would tear grown men apart. Yet, they sensed my heart, my loneliness, and became my friends. Elijah despised it. He warned me not to rely on anyone. Trust, he said, would be my greatest weakness."
Raizel paused, fists clenching. "But back then, all I desired was to leave Hell—to visit Heaven. To feel sunlight, not flames. To breathe air untainted by ash and suffering."
Raizel's eyes grew heavier, a shadow crossing his features. "Elijah always forbade it, giving no reason. It frustrated me—angered me. Until one day, when I was sixteen, defiant and arrogant, I chose to defy him."
Raizel soared upward, wings of shadow and flame carrying him higher than he'd ever dared. Above, the gates of Heaven glittered enticingly, glowing with a promise of everything he'd dreamed.
His heart thundered with excitement, hope blossoming—until a desperate voice roared behind him, frantic, pained.
"Raizel, stop!"
Elijah appeared, eyes wide with panic, grabbing Raizel's arm and violently pulling him down, away from the gates, dragging him forcefully back into the darkness below.
They landed roughly in the familiar desolation of Hell, and Elijah's eyes burned with fury and fear.
"What were you thinking?" Elijah yelled, shaking him, voice raw and strained. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Raizel jerked away violently, eyes blazing defiantly. "You never tell me anything! Why can't I go up there? Why do you trap me in darkness?"
Elijah's face twisted in pain, voice trembling. "It's for your protection! You don't understand—"
"I don't understand because you hide everything!" Raizel shouted back, rage overtaking reason. "Who are you to stop me? You're not even my father!"
The words sliced Elijah deeper than any blade, his expression crumbling into raw anguish. Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. Elijah's eyes filled slowly with tears, words barely audible. "You're right… I'm not your father."
Raizel stared, anger faltering as guilt seeped into his chest, but pride refused to yield. "Then stop pretending. Let me make my own decisions. I'm strong enough—"
Elijah stepped closer, his expression painfully gentle despite his tears. "You speak of strength, yet you know nothing of real pain."
Raizel sneered bitterly. "And what pain have you ever known?"
Elijah's eyes darkened with a sorrow deeper than Hell itself. He stepped back, decision solidifying, voice quivering yet resolute. "Very well… Perhaps it's time you saw."
Raizel hesitated, a cold dread pooling in his stomach. "What do you mean?"
Elijah's eyes filled with heartbreaking sadness, pain so deep Raizel felt his heart seize.
"I'm going to show you the truth," Elijah whispered softly, raising a shaking hand toward Raizel's forehead, voice trembling yet firm. "I'll use my power one final time, Raizel. You'll see my memories—the memories I've hidden from you all these years. You deserve the truth, no matter how painful."
Raizel's eyes widened as Elijah's hand rested gently against his forehead, warmth and sorrow seeping into his very being.
"But understand," Elijah whispered brokenly, tears streaming unchecked, "once you see, you can never unsee it."
Raizel's vision blurred, reality collapsing around him, replaced by shadows and echoes of the past, pulling him helplessly backward through time.
As darkness consumed him, Elijah's anguished voice echoed around him—a final, agonized cry shattering Raizel's heart:
"It was your father who imprisoned me here!"
The truth hit Raizel like lightning, and darkness swallowed him whole.