MY DARLING DAREDEVIL

Nothing changes

Being a tribrid had made Aziza seem flawless, and with no vulnerability. She was raised and brought up in a different world, where she had come across all sorts of powers, abilities and strength. Werewolves, vampires, witches and even demons, though lower demons. Higher demons were mostly in a different area, a place impossible to reach if you were not wealthy, like the castle, so she might not have met any higher demon because she was nothing but something that was more than a slave, and could never meet them eye to eye. They were truly the king and queens of the supernatural realm. No one went against them, their word was law and order and with the blessed power given them to them by the gods at the very beginning when they had been chosen meticulously by each entity, supe or faction as the true leader to lead them all into a great supernatural world. No one could ever doubt the kind of power they possessed. She knew stories though, and knew that a Velaryon was indeed a true demon, a higher demon and the Velaryon had the throne. They had absolute power, it could be felt and perceived from miles and they had complete control of the underworld. That was why she knew who Damon had been when his eyes had turned dark before, and she had known what he was the moment she started watching him. It might also be the reason why Daciana seems to have known immediately. He might be powerless at that very moment, but his presence could be felt from miles away.

But with all the stories, all the powers she had felt, even her amazing self-included, she had never felt such fear that rendered her bones weak as jelly. Neither had she ever felt like the temperature of the room had dropped so badly, cold crawled up her skin. The kind of cold that aches the bone and joint. The current that washed all over skin felt like it was going to electrocute her, it was like a lightning bolt had struck her. And when those eyes had turned to her, it had ridden her body lifeless and pulled her spirit away from her body for a moment. It was pure power, more than she had ever felt and for the very first time ever since she got her abilities, she felt wary and scared of losing her life and messing with the wrong person. Damon’s eyes cleared up almost instantly and just like the sky cleared up after a heavy rainfall, it returned back to normal and he fell back on the bed. Aziza watched him, unable to move, or even breathe for the fear that he was going to get up again. But after a very long time, he did not. She let out a heavy breath and relaxed on her knees. Her heart was racing inside her chest, her skin still felt very cold and her bones had still not regained from what had hit her. So, she only inhaled and exhaled till she had regained from what had happened. She turned to Damon who was laying on the bed, breathing heavily himself and she flashed him a glare for giving her such a fright. Then she frowned and got to her full height, she walked towards him and placed the back of her hand on his forehead wondering what had happened. His eyes snapped open again and she flinched. But this time, his eyes were normal brown and she cursed inwardly. He sat up and stared at her with a frown.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, seeing how heavily she breathed. She glared at him and brushed her hair backward and tried to calm down.

“Can you wake up more like a human?” she snapped and he chuckled realising that she was scared. The great Aziza was scared of something, it was surprising and somewhat satisfying but why was she frightened.

“What happened?” he asked again and got up on his feet. He looked around and waited for her to give an explanation to why she was so scared, but he realised that he needed an explanation for something more. From the look of things, it was already bright outside to say that it was morning, but he could clearly remember that he was right in his room the previous night and….

His jaw clenched and tightened and he balled his hand into a fist when he recounted the episode of the previous night.

******

“Who are my parents?’ the question had come like a slap to the faces of his parents. He had wanted to see fury in their looks first, anger in their countenance. That would be the expression that would prove that he was spitting nonsense and he had insulted them. He wished he had even gotten a slap and proven to be wrong. He was a strong man and would never want to be proven wrong, but at that point, he simply did not mind it. Aziza had said a lot of things, the lack of memories was also proof that she was right, and he wished that she was not. But instead, he saw shock, pain and panic in their look. Something hard seemed to have struck him at that moment and he realised that he had been lied to, deceived and played.

“Damon…” Flossie called out, her chest aching as pain rose and rose higher. She had loved Damon with all of her being and had simply wanted to protect him till he died if that was possible. He was the reason why her life was such a blissful one with happiness and peace. He was her breath of life and a second chance and all she had wanted to do was to protect him, shield him, and keep him safe. But seeing that pain in his eyes, the raw pain, and agony that made his eyes go blurry suddenly made her realise that she could not stop his pain, why? Because she had caused it.

“You are not my biological mother,” he stated the obvious. His heart aching like it was about to turn to shreds right inside of him. His eyes had turned blurry and his nose felt ticklish as he tried to hold back the tears that slowly overwhelmed him. He still did not want to believe that the woman before him was truly not his mother. Neither did he want to accept that the family he had known all his life, the part of his life he had remembered was a scam but the truth was right there, staring at him deep in his face.

“No, no…” she cried and sobbed uncontrollably. The harsh words that she had tried to deny for so many years hit her so hard like a punch to the face.

“Damon,” Ethan entered more calmly and got up on his feet.

“You are not my parents,” he roared more harshly and got up on his feet as well. His anger weighs as much as his pain.

“We are indeed your parents,” Flossie refused the very obvious and stood up on her feet as well. The tears she cried were uncontrollable and they were running down her cheek so fiercely. His heart tightened inside his chest and it suffocated him. The truth was harsher than he had imagined, it was more painful than he had thought and for a brief moment, he had hated Aziza. If she never showed up, he wouldn’t have known and he might never have known till he died. But if she never showed up, he might have died as well.

“Look, son,” Flossie went closer to him and took his hand.

“My son,” she called again, as she tried to reassure herself that he was truly her son.

“Don’t listen to what they are saying outside, you are indeed my son, you are my son, you hear me,” she cried. He stared at her, her words were not working this time, they were doing absolutely nothing to comfort him and the more she spoke, the more she called her son, the more he realised that he wasn’t and the more he felt like he was suffocating. A stray tear came running down his eyes and he allowed it to flow, taking the pain and the very truth before him.

“My son,” his mom had wrapped her hand around him, and held him as tightly as her strength could hold her. At first, he remained unmoved, and simply cried as she sobbed into his chest. But when his senses picked up her scent, the very scent he had known since he was a kid. The very scent he slept and woke up with. His mind went down memory lane and he recalled all the kisses he had ever gotten on his head. Her way of always rubbing his hand all over his hair and all the time she had embraced him just like this. His heart weakened and the thought of her not being his mother only seemed to tear him apart. He finally moved and wrapped his hand around her and hugged her back as she cried and he cried as well. From where he stood with his mother, he stole a glance at his father and found that his always cold and very annoying look had disintegrated into a softer tone. His eyes had turned red as he held his pain and his entire body shook with pain as well.

For a long time, the family of three stood that way, and remained there pouring out their emotions and denial all over the place. His mother kept saying that he was her son, but the tears in her eyes had betrayed her and nothing would change the fact that he wasn’t. Deciding to let the sleeping dog lie, he refused to remain angry. They were his life and he would rather pretend that they were his parents than do otherwise. But something else was in his thoughts and it had to be clarified. He pulled away from his mom and guided her back to the couch, where she had been sitting before and she sat down. His father did the same and he went back to his seat and sat down as well. He stared at them for a long time and watched them till they had all looked like they had calmed down, before he brought it up.

“What happened to the memories of my childhood? And who are my parents?” They both remained quiet and said absolutely nothing to him in response, but instead they turned to each other and with their eyes they spoke an unspoken word, then Ethan turned to him.

“Nothing happened to your memories and we are your parents.” He frowned, the response he was expecting was far from what he had gotten and the straight look on his father’s face made a terrible feeling settle at the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t do that, Dad,” he warned and turned to his mother.

“Mom, I can’t remember anything beyond when I woke up at the hospital. Something must have happened, I wasn’t just plugged out and became a teenager. I can’t remember anything beyond that. What happened? Why can’t I remember?”

“And you will always be my parents, always and forever but I also know that you are not my biological parents. I simply want to know who they are, are they dead? It won’t stop me from acknowledging any of you less.” He took his time and patiently explained all this. Because he felt that they might be insecure and scared that he would leave once he found out who they were.

“Damon,” Ethan called out to him, adapting the very tone he had always disliked about his father.

“It would be better that you keep moving on. Memories would change nothing, your biological parents would do nothing for you. There is no need looking backward, move on and continue to live your normal life, take your drugs, have your medication, go for therapy. Everything would be just fine. You are Damon Roxwell, the past would not change that and neither would that red hair demon that you won’t get rid of.”