The Forgotten II

“You’re a fool, Zacky boy.”

Zacharias glared at Tharon. His chosen demon was almost his height this time, his eyes glowing blood orange, his blackened lips pulled back in a feral grin. He didn’t want to ask, but the hairy bastard wouldn’t go away until he did. He would risk being forced to watch Tharon feast again.

He didn’t want that.

“Why am I a fool this time, demone?”

Tharon giggled. “You think she’ll save you. She can’t. Even if she could, she wouldn’t want you. No one out there does. It’s not your realm.”

“Smettila di darmi fastidio, idiota.” Zacharias snapped.

“Ooooh! ‘Stop bothering me.’ No. Let it go, Zacky. The King will never release you. You have been his prize possession for thousands of years, and you’re too much fun to hunt. And that ass! Who would let that go?” Tharon stretched a taloned hand toward him.

“Touch me and I’ll throw you into the water.”

Tharon shuddered. “No fair, Zacky.”

“Go away, Tharon.”

“Think about this, Zacky boy. Even if you could get out, which you can’t, what will Daddy do when he finds out you’ve returned? You think he’ll welcome you? He forgot you, just like everyone else.” The demon vanished in a fiery flourish.

“Bastardo.”

Zacharias walked toward the door between his realm and hers. It was still early on her side; she wouldn’t be patrolling yet. He could slip through the door and feel the sun on his skin for a little while, before he was pulled back into the dark.

He stepped through and smiled when the light hit his face. He paused, concentrating, and stretched his wings to their full span. His laughter echoed on the hill.

“You’re losing me, Oscurita.” he told the air around him, hoping the King couldn’t hear across the barrier. His wings hadn’t worked since he struck the earth so very long ago …

Wait.

Struck the earth?

He’d never remembered how he came to live in the Forgotten Realm. Even though she’d told him what she remembered, it didn’t seem real.

Now, it was coming back.

He sat with his back against the Oak where he’d left the book of poetry for her. He picked up a stick and absently drew in the dirt as memories trickled back to him. The argument with Father that split the skies, sending him to the Darkness, erasing him from every memory, including his own –

“Gods.” It was about them all; the ones he’d never met but wanted to, the ones who were here before Father. The ones he insisted deserved as much honor as Father did. The ones he knew would be welcoming, willing to work with Father, with all of them, to help the mortals …

Father’s stern voice echoed in his memory.

I have no son.

The explosion, the clouds opening beneath him, her scream –

Zacharias held his hands over his ears and choked back a scream of his own. The last glimpse of beauty he saw cried for him as he fell, but she couldn’t save him.

No one could.

He remembered hitting the earth. He remembered standing, looking around, with no knowledge of what had happened, where he was, or even his own name. The Realm had him from the moment he struck the ground.

“I had a mind of my own.” he whispered softly, not realizing he was writing it in the dirt as he said it. “And for that, you took my name from me. You took everything from me because I questioned you. Why?”

Zacharias rocked to his feet and looked over the hill toward where he knew she lived. “I will see you when the sun rises, Dea. Lo prometto.”

He could run. He knew he could. The King would send someone, something, for him, and he would fight, and ultimately lose. He wasn’t strong enough yet. He didn’t know where he would go if he did escape.

And he knew he couldn’t be the only one in the Realm. He’d never seen anyone save for the King and that miserable Tharon, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, wandering, wishing someone would remember them.

“I know who I am.” he said as he wrote his name in the dirt next to his drawings, hoping she’d see them. “I am Zacharias, and I didn’t fall.”

He took a deep breath and slipped back into the Forgotten Realm.

“Sono stato spinto … I was pushed.”