Page 50 of Demonic Cage
Darya’s voice calmly echoes through the root-infested hall.
“Arbor Scientiae – the Tree of Knowledge.”
My eyes widen.
“That tree…?” I whisper, unfinished.
Darya nods.
I bite my lip. Everything I knew about our world, or anything I believed in, shattered the moment the angels kidnapped me.
“I know what you learned in your world. About Adam and Eve, who ate the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge despite it being forbidden, and then were damned to Earth. The Tree of Knowledge is not a plant, but a concept, yet we – including you – need to materialize it. I don’t know how many counterparts there are, but I do know that every world needs one.”
“But it doesn’t seem very smart for someone to eat its fruit.”
Darya smiles, keeping his gaze fixed on the tree. His beautiful face reveals that he is delving into memories hundreds of years old.
“No,” he asserts. “Indeed no.”
His gray eyes fill again with the present, and he looks at me.
“Touch the tree!”
I hesitate for just a moment, then slowly step toward the massive trunk. There’s such peace in its proximity that I place my hand on it without hesitation.
Silence envelops us. Peace embraces me, and I meld into it. I feel every tiny pulse of my being as my soul tightly intertwines with my body, drawing strength from each other. It’s as if my lungs have been stuck for years until now. They take flight, white down feathers lifting them high, and I finally feel like I can breathe. The guilt that had been gnawing at my skin disintegrates. The fog of sadness dissipates. My grief for Bengt remains, but it doesn’t overwhelm me. Instead, it peacefullyrecedes into the background. I am happy, too happy. There’s too much light, too much…
I have to let go of the tree. The silence disappears, replaced by the stillness of the chamber, the weight of which coils around my lungs like a chain, grief almost forcing me to my knees.
I look at Darya, bewildered.
“Nothing can give you absolution and a full life, except yourself. That’s how you’d feel if you gave yourself what you really need. If you still find it difficult, then you’re not ready to achieve it.”
“And what do you feel when you touch the tree?”
“Peace,” says Darya, running his finger along the gray-mahogany tree. I almost laugh.
“So, killing angels and kidnapping humans, that’s a full life for you? And you’re capable of absolving yourself? Congratulations.”
The Demon King’s voice rings mockingly. “I didn’t say it’s not a risky game,” he says, then lies down on a protruding root, stretching his limbs. “Well, now’s the time you can ask anything.”
I sit down too, leaning against a bulging stone slab. I try not to touch the tree.
“Why am I here?”
Darya’s gray gaze pierces deep into mine. “Because I need you.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Why me?”
“Because in your veins flows both demon and angel blood.”
It’s as if the ground is being pulled from under me, and the room filled with roots tilts. My mouth goes dry; I fall silent, just staring into Darya’s eyes. Memories collide in my mind like lightning.
“Lavian,” I start, “the angels…”
“The herebias kidnapped you because they thought you had demon blood. However, a demon-blooded person wouldn’t understand their language, certainly not straight away. Ancient magic prevents us from understanding each other’s language. A demon doesn’t understand the angelic, and vice versa.”
