The Star Of Depravity - Chapter 9

The auburn-haired woman who fell on Ervin’s chest had her eyes shut, and her mouth slightly open. Her thick, reddish eyelashes formed concave shadows on her cheeks. Her wavy hair was splayed all over her face, though Ervin could see the little, light brown freckles that spread around her nose and cheeks like stars. Her chest fell up and down in slow movements.

Ervin panicked—as if by instinct, he shoved the redhead away from him, which caused her to fall on the water, her back submerged, and her bright hair floating as if it were a spreading fire.

So, she’s alive, Ervin thought inwardly as his anxiousness began subsiding. He felt relief from the thought of having a dead woman lying on his chest.

With haste, Ervin dragged her away from the water.

She must have fainted, but he didn’t know the reason why. He assumed it was because she fell from the sky. Ervin understood that anyone who plummeted in a glowing swamp without any idea what in the world is happening would most likely pass out from shock.

He glanced around and looked for a space he’d lay her down on.

Ervin didn’t have the time to understand the redhead’s situation. He had other matters to take care of. To find a way to die—to undo what Zyros had done to him.

With caution, Ervin lifted her in a standing position and slowly snaked her right arm over his shoulders. He halted—

The color—

Eyes widening, he trembled. He beheld his once severed arm before him: its color, unfortunately, didn’t return to its original shade. It was ashen, and the space between his left shoulder and arm had jagged patterns, the skin on it a deep red. Ervin assumed it had followed the path as to how his arm got ripped out from his joints.

It bothered him, and he felt as if he was missing an essential part of himself—it was as if he was a whole different person.

With his flawed arm, he shoved the dread away, and quickly supported her body, his palm digging in the curve of her waist as he swiftly drags her to the damp soil.

After gently laying her on the ground, Ervin stared at her simple pajamas and pink-pastel colored shirt for a while as he pondered what he’d do next.

If Ervin needed to die before he was summoned to this world, did that meant that the remaining vessels also experienced the same thing? Did they also die? Or were they forcibly dragged into Lestra?

Based on her features, the woman looked tall, almost as if she was only two or three inches smaller than Ervin’s six feet stature. The impact of her fall felt like she had been thrown effortlessly, her weight crushing Ervin’s body when she tumbled upon him below.

Despite what has happened to her, Ervin didn’t think twice about leaving her here to die. After all, wasn’t she one of the vessels whom Ervin heard complain as to why she’d have to live again when she’s already dead?

From a distance, Ervin watched her with disinterest, his bright hazel eyes drifting toward the willow tree before him when he heard a rustling from behind the tall grasses ahead.

He waited, but nothing appeared.

What do we have here? 

Zyros’ voice ripped him away from his thoughts.

He jerked his head toward the sky—stars shone like diamonds, distributed evenly on the atmosphere.

The infamous Zyros hummed as Ervin felt him roam his gaze at the redhead who moaned and twisted on the damp dirt.

Ervin clenched his fists. He wasn’t done with the damned Deity yet.

Before he had been thrown in this world, he begged to be killed—he begged the Deity himself to end his suffering. He denounced being his vessel, but Zyros didn’t say a word about it, even though his actions proved that he refused Ervin’s wish to die.

The Dark Deity made it clear that Ervin will not have his way.

Ervin glared at the obsidian sky once more, the purple mist coiling on his body like a snake.

“Zyros!” The yell that came out from him echoed like a cannon, and it incited more red eyes popping out from the trees across the swamp.

Ervin had already sighted them when he plunged on the swamp’s water earlier. He didn’t mind them, his fist digging crescent shapes on his palm as he felt the muscles on his shoulders spasm, the tension spreading on his upper body.

“Come out,” he dared. The fear was there, but desperation pushes you beyond it.

Zyros’ chuckle made him flinch, but he held his ground. He couldn’t get used to how the tone of his voice made you want to succumb to something. He remembered hearing Zyros for the first time, and as a result, he couldn’t stop thinking of death—like he was in a never-ending spiral of being dead over and over again.

Ervin looked around, and he still couldn’t see the Deity. He wondered if he wasn’t really a Deity—what if he was a trickster that pretended to be omniscient? There were endless possibilities, and Ervin knew he’d be deceived one way or another, so he always needed to take one step ahead.

The purple mist around him thickened, and soon, the swamp vanished, and the trees melted into bits of sand that slowly flew with the wind.

* * *

Ervin stood in a dark space with no beginning and end, droplets of water dripping from a nonexistent ceiling. There was no light, but then again, he could see every part of his body as if it were glowing objects placed above someone’s room.

He held out his hand, and the water traced the lines on his right palm. It didn’t feel anything at all, and Ervin knew there must’ve been something odd about his senses—

Then, as if he’d snap back to reality, he remembered this was where he had first met Zyros.

What’s up with this place, he thought silently.

Darkness was everywhere.

And, speaking of the devil.

Zyros, the Dark Deity of Lestra, appeared before him. He had his hair piled on his left shoulder; his hand folded over his chest.

That’s right. Ervin decided he was a he rather than it. Basing on his features, he decided that the Dark Diety’s gender was a he in all aspects.

As if he didn’t notice Ervin’s arrival, the Dark Deity’s back was to him as he basked on the light outside the tunnel before them.

He hadn’t noticed the tunnel when he came back, but he remembered that it was this bright the last time he saw it.

When Zyros dragged him toward the end of the tunnel, he didn’t expect that he would be pushed outside of it. It turns out there was a cliff that leads back toward Lestra— the unfortunate land these Deities had been desperately trying to save.

From what? 

Ervin knew they’re desperate to protect it.

Again, from what?

These two questions hovered in his mind over and over again.

“I didn’t expect you’d be back after an hour so,” Zyros folded his arms as he faced him, a golden bracelet falling near the folds of his arm joints. The purple tattoo on his arm swirled like dead vines up his shoulders pulsed when Ervin came closer, “And yes, I’m a he,” Zyros confirmed, smirking.

Ervin had an expression on his face that he only makes when he’s about to vomit.

The Dark Deity maintained his infamous smile, “Oh, don’t be too disgusted.” He placed his hands behind him, “I know you have questions.”

Ervin’s fists clenched, “I don’t want to be your vessel.”

He didn’t have questions; he had a declaration, and there was no point in beating behind the bush. “How can I undo it?”

He didn’t think Zyros would give him an answer, but the Dark Deity was unpredictable, so he’d take any chance.

Zyros thought for a second, his black, clawed fingers tapping on his sculpted chin. He tilted his head above, “You know how to,” then, he flashed him another smile.

The Deity’s eyes were a glowing red that held a promise of blood, war, and death. Ervin was so sure that he would cause these catastrophic events sooner or later.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

I know? 

No matter how much he wrecks his brain about it, Ervin couldn’t solve the Diety’s riddle.

How the fuck am I supposed to know?

He was growing impatient, and he didn’t notice he was already bitting his lower lip hard the blood spilled on his tongue.

There was a long pause, an uninvited silence hovering between them.

Ervin was at a loss for words. He didn’t know the answer to his own question. In the first place, he wouldn’t have asked if he knew about it.

“Is that all?” asked Zyros as he attempted to return with his casual viewing at the overlooking scenery below the white tunnel.

“What’s that tunnel for?” he couldn’t stop asking as he pointed his index finger toward its direction.

Amidst the darkness that shrouded this space, the tunnel had the whitest light he’d ever seen. The wind coming from the direction of the tunnel caressed his cheeks, and the emitted light almost blinded him, causing him to cover his sight with his ashen arm.

Zyros leveled him a stare, “A portal to Lestra,” he answered without hesitation, “that meant you’re exiting this conjured space that I made.”

“Why’d you make this?” Ervin inquired, the eagerness to know coursing through his veins.

“Some form of precaution,” Zyros answered, his eyes looking at the obsidian-colored sky beyond the white light. The wind that came blew his hair away from his face. His dark locks were too smooth that they didn’t get tangled with the rest of its strands.

Ervin frowned, “From what?” he probed. “What are you not telling me?”

Zyros didn’t spare him a glance as he said, “Are you that sure I’m not really telling you… everything?”

The sigh of frustration escaped from Ervin’s lips, “Just get to the point—”

“You weren’t interested in becoming my vessel awhile ago, and now you seemed like a whole different human,” Zyros’s brows knitted. “What made you change your mind?”

Ervin gave him a flat expression, “I didn’t change my mind. I just want to know why you’re desperately saving Lestra when these people are just…” he trailed off for a moment, and resumed when he saw how Zyros unblinkingly awaited the continuation, “…are just mere humans. They’re mortals. You can’t protect them from death.”

The air thickened, and Ervin had to cough several times to relieve the constriction inside his chest.

Zyros took two long strides. And when he’s finally in front of Ervin, he tipped his chin below, those red irises like fire, “This is our home—a home we lent to humans. They are the ones who took care of what we couldn’t, and for that, we owe them protection.”

His mouth formed a thin line. Again, Ervin thought inwardly, protecting from what? 

“Why not take a vessel among them?” he took a step forward until their eyes are at the same level, “why take people like us from a different world to be your vessels?”

“You know, Ervin,” the corners of his mouth twitched, “the only way to stop being a vessel is through death.”

Ervin stared at him. He didn’t blink.

If dying was the answer, Ervin would gladly do it.

As Zyros held his eyes, the Dark Deity smiled like he’d incited something he’d expected from Ervin.

Then, he smiled and said, “Did I mention I made you somewhat… immortal?”

The heavy silence weighed on Ervin’s shoulders.

Ervin couldn’t move. He stopped breathing for a second, his heart pounding hard on his chest.

His mouth quivered—his vision became fogged, and he couldn’t think what to say next.

“Immortal?” the disbelief lingered in his voice.

It quickly turned into anger—his facial muscles tensed as he gritted his teeth.

How can I be immortal? 

His light-colored eyes widened at a smirking Zyros.

Then, he let out a laugh. “You’re bluffing.” Ervin shook his head as he whined in despair. “You can’t make a human immortal!” he let out a strangled cry.

Zyros tilted his head to the side, his eyes darkening. His slanted pupils constricted, “Did I not revive you?”

Ervin had his fist in the air. He let out a blood-curling scream as he ran and aimed straight at Zyros’s face.

The Dark Deity easily dodged it, and in turn, Ervin landed a blow in the air.

“Come now. I thought you’d like answers,” said Zyros, who’s currently squinting his eyes at him.

“How the fuck am I immortal? What have you’ve done?” Ervin’s vision blurred from the anger he was feeling. “I don’t want to be immortal!”

“You want to die—” Zyros’s huge hand grabbed hold of the collar of his t-shirt, his hoodie slipping from his shoulders.

With one swift movement, the Dark Deity raised his arm and brought Ervin’s face before his as he continued, “—but the majority of the people of Lestra don’t.”

Zyros irises pulsed along with the tattoo on his arm, “And until you’re able to find a way on how you’re going to free yourself from my chains, you’re going be my tool.”

Ervin choked and coughed from the pressure around his neck. He couldn’t breathe.

Zyros’s face had an emotion he noticed to be in par with his: it was desperation.

“N-no…” Ervin managed to say even though he felt his windpipe’s going to get crushed.

“Oh? What do you mean, no?” Zyros cocked his head, “It’s either that or I turn you into something worse than being an immortal. I’m not presenting choices for nothing, Ervin Wang.”