The Reign Of Eternal Madness

Chapter 5: Madman's Oath

The night was still, the moon casting its silver glow over the Void Dragon estate. The household slumbered, unaware of the shadow that moved with unnatural speed, slipping past even the most vigilant guards. It was a shadow that defied detection, a specter born of chaos and madness. The figure darted through the corridors, its movements fluid and silent, until it reached a room where a newborn child lay in her cradle. The child, as if sensing the presence, stirred, her tiny fists clenching and unclenching as her cries began to echo softly in the room.

The shadow paused at the threshold, its form shimmering as it spread a veil of energy around the room, sealing it from the outside world. No sound would escape, no alarm would be raised. The child's cries grew louder as the figure stepped closer, its form still obscured by darkness. But then, the moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating the face of the intruder. It was Damon, his once-divine features now marked by the wear of madness and time. His eyes, though wild, softened as they fell upon the child.

"Little one, please... stop crying," Damon whispered, his voice a fragile thread of sound, trembling with an emotion he hadn't felt in eons. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the child's cheek, and for a moment, the madness in his eyes seemed to recede. The child's cries faltered, her tiny hand reaching out to grasp his finger. Her face lit up with a joy so pure that it pierced through the chaos in Damon's mind.

"Ooh, little one," Damon murmured, his voice breaking. "I am your big brother." He lifted her gently, cradling her against his chest. The weight of her in his arms was unfamiliar, yet it stirred something deep within him—a protectiveness, a love he thought he had lost forever. His heart, once hardened by the weight of divinity and madness, now beat with a strange, tender rhythm. He smiled, a rare, genuine smile, as he looked down at her. "You... you are my sister. My blood. My family."

But then, his senses sharpened. He felt them—creatures lurking in the shadows, their presence intertwined with the child's very essence. His protective instincts flared, and he released a fraction of his presence, a warning to the unseen entities. The child, sensing the shift, began to cry again, her tiny body trembling. Damon's eyes widened as he realized the truth—the creatures were not there to harm her. They were her protectors, bound to her by some strange, dark connection.

"Why... why do such vile things cling to you?" Damon muttered, his voice a mix of disgust and confusion. He studied her, his divine senses probing the bond between the child and the shadows. "But they do not harm you... they serve you." A laugh escaped him, bitter yet tinged with amusement. "So, I am not the only abnormal one in this family."

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his mind racing. The child's cries grew louder, and he knew he had to leave before others arrived. Reluctantly, he placed her back in the cradle, his fingers lingering for a moment on her tiny hand. "I will protect you, little one," he whispered, his voice firm despite the chaos in his mind. ""I may not be a god anymore, but nothing will touch you."

As he turned to leave, the child's cries intensified, echoing through the sealed room. Damon hesitated, his heart aching at the sound, but he forced himself to move. He dissolved into the shadows, his form slipping through the cracks of reality as he fled the estate. Behind him, the windows rattled violently, drawing the attention of Dora. She rushed into the room, her eyes scanning for any sign of intrusion. Finding none, she closed the windows, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Damon was already far away, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The world around him was unfamiliar, its energy strange and alien. He had lost his divinity, his knowledge of the old ways, even his sanity. All that remained were fragments of memories, shards of a once-great god who had ruled supreme. And yet, within him burned a spark of hope, a madman's wish for something more.

As he ran, his laughter echoed through the night, a sound both sorrowful and defiant. "I, who once reigned supreme, am now reduced to this... a madman clinging to fragments of what I once was," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of bitterness and longing. He reached out, plucking a strand of energy from the air, feeling the echoes of the world around him. "This strange energy... it recognizes me. It remembers what I was, even if I do not."

He clenched his fist, the energy dissipating into the night. "Even a madman hopes," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Even a madman dreams." His laughter faded into the darkness as he disappeared into the night, a broken god with a brother's love burning in his heart and a madman's wish guiding his steps.

---

Years passed, and Damon turned sixteen—a child of madness, yet his handsome features surpassed those of his age and even the people of this world. Damon's madness was not like when he was younger; it was different now. He danced between madness and sanity, but in his sixteen years in this new world, he had learned much.

He now understood that they lived on a continent named "Vathirion" , the "Continent of Wonders." Their family resided in the fallen country of Drezarath, which they once ruled, holding the capital of Xal-Thorak. Apart from Drezarath, there were four other countries on the continent:

- Arkenvell, the "Moonlight Haven," a land of ethereal beauty and silver-lit forests.

- Kael'Morath, the "Sunless Realm," also known as the Demon Country, shrouded in perpetual twilight.

- Vhaldrakar, the "Iron Dominion," a land of towering fortresses and unyielding strength.

- Ithronveil, the "Kingdom of prosperity," a place of wealth and power, where the air itself seemed too glourious.

Each kingdom was unique in its own way, but Drezarath, once ruled by the Void Dragon family, had been brought to its knees and suppressed. Now, Damon understood the hardship his father endured. His anger turned into understanding, but nothing changed. He was still looked down upon by his clan and his family. Even his mother, Dora, seemed to have lost all hope in him, causing him to withdraw further from them.

The only one who ever understood him was his baby sister, Emily. And he loved her with all he had. She was his anchor, the one pure thing in his life that kept him tethered to sanity. In her, he found a reason to keep going, even as the world around him crumbled.