Free Dark God by T C Southwell

do
not see why I should believe you, that still does not convince me
to save this foul world. I would rather live in the
Underworld."
    Sadness washed through Ellese.
There was simply no good way to persuade Bane to fight the Black
Lord. There was nothing she could offer him. "It would redeem you
in the eyes of your people. You would be a hero, even if they never
accepted you. Your father would be proud of you."
    He ran a hand through his hair,
and his face relaxed a little, as if the dark power momentarily
loosened its grip on him. "My people, who hate me, my father, who
has never met me. These reasons are not convincing. And do not tell
me that I owe the girl my life. I had no wish to live when she
saved me."
    "That is not true. If you truly
had not wished to live, you would not have." She leant forward.
"Was it because you wanted to stay with Mirra, or because you
wanted vengeance on the Black Lord for what he did to you?"
    "It was because she kept feeding
me that damned potion."
    Ellese smiled. "So, you wanted
to stay with her."
    "I did not say that."
    "You did not have to. It is
true, is it not?"
    He shrugged. "It may be."
    "There is no shame in it."
    "There is if it weakens me."
    "How can it weaken you?"
    "Because she is weak,
vulnerable. If I go against the Black Lord, he will strike at her,
not me."
    Ellese nodded. "That is true,
but we will protect her."
    "From the Black Lord?" He
snorted. "You do not stand a chance against him. He will send an
army of dark creatures to wipe this place off the face of the
earth."
    "But you can protect her."
    "Not without my power."
    "You will be able to use your
power when you have been healed."
    He gazed at her. "And you trust
me not to replace the Black Lord as ruler of the Overworld? I
could, you know."
    "I know you could. And yes, I
do."
    "Why?"
    "Because I know you do not want
to."
    "What makes you think that?"
    She shrugged and sighed. "It is
not your nature, and once you have been purged of the dark power
you will see that."
    "Will I?" His brows rose, and
his expression became sceptical. "That should be interesting."
    Ellese nodded, fascinated by his
mood swings, which she had seen many times before. One moment he
was coldly harsh, the next in a towering rage, and now, he seemed
quite calm. She rose and picked up his jar of green paste, opened
it and scooped out a dollop. Bane scowled when she sat next to him
and rubbed it into the cut on his hand. The bleeding stopped, and
she smiled at him as she put away the jar.
    "We will be able to cure you of
this."
    "The bleeding?"
    "Yes. Once you have been
purged."
    Bane regarded her with deep
resentment, and she reached out to stroke his hair, failing when he
leant away. "I know. You do not need our help."
    He stared at the floor, and she
waited for him to speak, wondering how long this calm phase would
last. At last he looked up. "What is my father like?"
    Ellese rose and returned to her
chair, sensing his intense dislike for her proximity. His curiosity
pleased her. She took it as a good sign. "A quiet man, moody,
withdrawn, stays by himself in the woods, and does not like
intruders. Tall, like you. You have his nose, his mouth, and his
chin. Your eyes and hair come from your mother, the brows too, and,
of course, the widow's peak."
    He looked puzzled. "What is a
widow's peak?"
    She gestured at her brow, which
did not possess one. "It is... you have one on your forehead."
    His hand rose to examine his
forehead, fingering the smooth skin and the deeply plunging
hairline. "I cannot feel it."
    "You have never seen a
mirror?"
    "No."
    Ellese rose. "Wait here."
    Elder Mother hurried down the
hall to her study and returned with a hand mirror. She gave it to
him, and he looked at it curiously, turning it so it reflected the
walls at odd angles.
    She smiled. "Hold it in front of
your face, and you will see yourself."
    Bane lifted the mirror, and
Ellese caught a glimpse of blurred black hair in it before he
turned it towards himself. The mirror