Though I barely voiced the words, they rang like peals from a bell tower in the small room. Knowles lurched back in his seat with an oof! - like I’d punched him in the gut. I watched as tears gathered in the eyes of this haggard, ancient demon and I thought he’d never looked more human, more vulnerable. He held no trace of his Shadow - as if he truly had become mortal. But no. He would live with the consequences of his choice to follow Father the whole of his very long life. And he would continue to feel every crime against Asgard and its people as if he himself had committed it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes glued to mine. “I’m so sorry.”
There’d been a time when I enjoyed Knowles’ suffering. A time when I felt every word he said to be a lie. That he couldn’t possibly be a demon while leading the charge against the dark. But I felt differently now.
On wooden legs I walked forward and Knowles rose to meet me. He fell into my arms and I…I clasped him to me while he cried.