PROLOGUE
500 years ago ....
Taking his seventh gourd of rum, he gulped it down like his life depended on it and staggered out of his shabby little hut. The rum burned down his throat, but it did not warm him.
Nothing warmed him anymore.
He looked up at the sky and sighed. Deep down he knew he hated to do this but he was like a man in shackles with no control over himself.
The sky was overcast, dark shadow roamed the earth, ridding the earth of every bit of light the night could offer. No moon. No stars. Only the odor of rotten water and humid air was enough company.
He checked if his dagger was safely pocketed and let the darkness swallow him. The blade was old and rusted but it symbolized the brutal beast inside of him.
This was his daily routine.
He considered himself a saint with the duty of freeing troubled souls from their miserable bodies. The wretched life they had here on earth.After all he was their saviour. The world was miserable and it should at least be thankful to him.
Through the darkness,he carefully sought his way out until he reached the exact spot. A small gathering behind the windmill
Travellers gathering.Drunkards like him... Lost souls .
He crouched behind the baobab tree. His heart was not beating fast. It was slow. Too slow.
"Let the hunt begin," he chuckled. His voice was hoarse from the rum.
Under the cover of the darkness, he counted them carefully. One, two, three, four.Two women sleeping by the fire, an old man snoring and...
His mouth twitched at the corners, which was more than a smile he could give.
There, in his eyes, stood his prey ready to be devoured by him. For a moment, he prayed and hoped that she would at least last a bit longer...for fun's sake.
He took a step closer, trying his best to close the gap between him and his prey silently as possible.
Like a mouse, he moved swiftly making sure not to make the slightest sound. He did not want to scare his prey before the fun began.
Simultaneously, he felt a black hand, colder than the grave, pull him backwards.
It was not human. The fingers were long dripping hot lava, but it did not burn skin. It burned his soul.
As he was being dragged backward, everything crumbled to dust and disappeared into thin mist. Then, he seemed like he was falling. No, he was being dragged down. Down into an abyss that had no bottom. The air became hot and screams from thousand throats filled his ears. He could smell burning flesh.
Then he landed on hardened lava.
Before him stood a throne made from flowing lava, and on it sat Hades whom fire did not burn but served. His eyes were empty pits of molten gold and a black crown of spikes pierced his head.
'You, " thundered Hades, his voice like closing tombs and his breath like hot steam from an exploding volcano.
"You plucked where you did not sow, and you freed souls that were bound to be freed only by me."
For a moment, fingers of fear squeezed his stomach but he soon stood his ground.
"I am salvation." He said proudly. "A saint. Shoudn't you be grateful?"
"I see. Why don't we play a game then." said Hades.
With an evil grin plastered on his smokey face, Hades shuffled the cards like he was possessed and pulled three. He did not look at them right away. Instead he let them fall.One ,two ,three....onto the black marble between them.
The first hit Judgment, upside down.
Judgement reversed.
Hades' grin grew wider. "Oh boy."
The man did not move an inch, but his jaw clenched.
"Do you know what this means?" Hades whispered, leaning in, his voice like grave smoke. "It means you don't get to die. You don't get to be forgiven either. No Elysium. No peace."
He turned the second card. The devil.
"Chained." Hades said. "With no escape. The power of death you held shall be your shackles for eternity."
The last card was Death.
"Light shall be your fall. Like the way light cast away darkness, you shall be cast away."
He pushed all the three cards away with one finger. They burned where they touched the ground.
Everything went still for a moment untill a faint laugh of mockery escaped the man's lips .
Enraged, Hades rose from his stone.
"You foolish mortal. Since you loved to play saint in the darkness, l hereby bind you to the shackles of eternity. You shall roam both realms and hunt forever. You shall be a demon cursed to never walk in the light. "
Forever. That word echoed in his ears like a summer bell. Every breath he would take, he will continue to walk in the shadows of misery and eternity .
The man opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. His skin cracked like cooled lava. Blackened. Hardened. His bones lengthened, his teeth sharpened, and his soul was sealed in obsidian.
Then and there Xandros was reborn.
"Now rise Xandros," said Hades. "My reaper. My demon of death."
From smoke, Xandros rose his skin like cracked ash. His eyes red like the last ember of fire and wings that were like shadows tore through his back. He became darkness and darkness became him.