The nearly full moon shone brightly, lighting up the clearing. Basking in the Moonlight, Dásos watched Keshiema. He picked up an acorn from the small pile on the grass and popped it into his mouth. The bitterness was favorable to wasting energy by transforming it into fruit. The fruit of the Tree of Life could bring him back to full power eventually, but he would need to consume a vast amount. His stomach grumbled, angry with him for overindulging. Yes, a vast amount indeed.
So far, he had been able to recover enough for short, imprecise teleportations, manifesting small objects, and seeing keshiema through their blood bond. Talking to her was still out of his abilities. He watched on nervously as Ayperos let her go alone with Buer and held his breath as she fought him. When Buer struck her with his sword, Dásos balled his fists, wishing to strike the vile demon. When Buer lost his weapon and clawed at Keshiema's face, he had to force himself not to try teleporting. and when she buried her blade in the demon's stomach, he smiled with a subtle pride.
And then, someone called her name from the darkness. A Mist-Daemon of all creatures. She recognized him, but something did not sit right. ‘I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I need to help her.’ He teleported to the great hall, aiming to enter Uvall's domain, but he lacked the necessary control over his power and so wound up in front of the entrance to the Throne Room. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he let the nausea settle before pulling open the heavy wooden door. He entered the ancient temple. “I need to speak with Uvall.” His demand echoed through the hallways. The princes, all present save for Ayperos and Beelzebub, stared at him from their thrones. “Now!” he growled the order viciously.
Pyro tried to stop Eurynome as he stepped away from his throne, but he yanked his arm away from the Fire-Daemon.“What do you think you’re doing, trying to order us around?" The Horseman of Death sneered, approaching Dásos with a threatening aura. "In your state, you couldn’t harm a human.” He stared down at the creature before him with his teeth fully bared in a viscous grin.
“That's quite brave of you, getting in my way.” Lightly patting Eurynome’s cheek with his bare hand, Dásos returned Eurynome's grin with one of his own, “Now move.” He berated the Reaper as if he were a child in need of scolding. “Even at my weakest, there is nothing any of you could do to hurt me." Shoving Eurynome back to crash against his own throne, Dásos spoke directly to Asmoday. “I need to speak with Uvall concerning Keshiema. I feel she is in grave danger.”
“It would seem you are overstepping your boundaries, Dásos." Samael cut in before Asmoday could respond. The Serpent leaned back, curious to see where Samael's attitude would get him this time. Eurynome stood, but leaned against his throne, dazed from the impact.
Dásos clenched his fists, fighting the urge to attack Balam’s oldest son, too. “Choose your words carefully, Samael. I am in no mood to deal with your pettiness. Keshiema is of Primordial blood.”
“What gives you that idea? Her mother gave birth centuries after that man was sent to Ethera.”
“Snow Lily is – Damnit!“ Dásos shook his head. He had no time to give Samael a lesson in Ice-Daemon Biology. “You're a fool if you can't see she is of Fotia's line!” He snapped. “Asmoday and Lilith obviously know. I’m surprised you Reapers haven’t figured it out yet, as much as you lust after our flesh. Now, let me see Uvall. If I have to waste my energy to teleport in there myself, you’ll regret it.”
“I’ve had enough of your attitude.” Pyro stood, flames igniting around his fists. “We won't let you treat us like ragdolls.”
“That is enough.” A young boy walked into the room. A piece of fine, bright red silk covered his eyes. “I will not have you argue amongst each other.”
“Uvall, you should be resting.” Merihim rushed to the child and knelt down in front of him. “Is there something we can get for you?”
“I have something to share. Phorest, please summon your throne. You should sit with the princes as the figure of authority you truly are.”
Dásos crossed his arms and glared at the group of demons. Lightning struck the ground behind him, and thunder shook the Great Hall. Where the lighting hit, an ornate throne appeared. Carved into the ebony wood of the backrest was an elaborate Celtic oak tree. Ancient Runes covered the armrests and the claw-foot legs. Thunder reverberated into the distance as Dásos took his throne. Gaap grumbled, calling Dásos a “show off" under his breath.
The princes rose as the dias slowly lowered into the ground, and the thrones themselves slid away from each other to form a circle with Dásos's around the Seal of Solomon.
“Thank you, Phorest. Now, everyone, please...” When all were seated, Uvall walked to the center of the room. “Fate has altered the course of Keshiema's destiny, subtly changing the path I have been previously shown. At this moment she is trying to save Ipos. I cannot tell you how this will play out. I can tell you that this is a life-or-death situation. Ayperos cannot get close enough to aid her if she needs help, and no one here could reach her in time. You need to make preparations for the coming chaos if this is where her story ends.”
“Is there absolutely nothing we can do? “Samael voiced the question on everyone’s minds. “We can’t just give up on her this easily.”
“Where is Beelzebub?” Dásos shot the question out, just realizing the Fly-Daemon’s absence.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Uvall cocked his head as if listening to a far-off sound. “Beelzebub is not here?”
Merihim and Stolas shared a concerned look. “No. Is everything alright, Uvall?” Merihim bounced his foot nervously.
“Phorest, I need to borrow your essence. In return, I will give you back extra energy.”
“Uvall, you can't,” Merihim rose from his throne as he objected. “It will take too long for you to regain your strength.”
“If I cannot distinguish how many demons are in my presence then what else am I not seeing? It is a fair trade that will help all of us, and most importantly, it may save Keshiema.”
Stolas cleared his throat, and everyone shifted their attention. “We will not argue. Uvall can take care of himself, and we have to respect his decisions. Phoradendron, do you accept Uvall's offer?”
“If it could help Keshiema, you bet your ass I accept.” Dásos approached Uvall and held out his arm. When Uvall grasped Dásos’s wrist, a bright green aura flowed from the man to the child. As the flow of essence slowed, Dásos fell to his knees.
“Beelzebub is already on his way to help Keshiema. But he may be too late to help her.” Uvall lifted his head as if looking to the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Phorest, she is too far away. I cannot give you enough power to teleport to her. We have to hope Beelzebub makes it to her on time.”
***
Looking around, her eyes fell on an unexpected sight. “Sonneillon! What are you doing here?” More than ever before, she wished she could hug her friend. She had not seen him in weeks. She had not even been able to say farewell before he left.
“I was taken on my way to my assignment. They brought me here,” he drifted over to her. "I just found a way out of my cell. I believe the barrier weakened for some reason." he made a point to look at Buer's mangled corpse.
Seeing the streak of gray on his side, her insides churned. “Sonneillon, you’re hurt.” Her first thought went to Nergal torturing him. Her next thought was much darker. ‘Ayperos said Alex injured a Mist-Deamon that was caught spying.’ Her chest tightened.
“Keshiema, is everything okay?”
Jumping back, Keshiema raised her sword. “Sonneillon, tell me the truth, are you working for Nergal?”
“I was hoping to drag this on for a bit longer. I really wanted to see your face when I took all of the air out of your lungs!”
“Why!” Tears stung her flushed cheeks and her palette shifted to red and black as her heart struggling to decide between rage and heartache.
“I can’t stand you disgusting half-breeds. So, when I got the order to start abducting them sixteen years ago, I gladly accepted.”
The full realization hit her like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of her. She stared in horror, her heart shattering. "You killed my family?” she barely managed to form the words.
“I wasn’t even ordered to," He laughed. "And I enjoyed every second of it. You were so trusting of me when we finally met. Imagine, a child so gullible, she befriends her family's killer without ever thinking it could possibly be the same demon!”
Rage filled her, prevailing in the fight against despair. Her hair and eyes glowed a deeper crimson than any time before. Her aura fought the air around her with a static charge. With a violent shriek, she lunged at the Mist-Daemon without thinking.
Sonneillon slid to the side, easily avoiding her attack. Turning around, she lunged at him again, and again he avoided her with ease. “Well, that’s new.” Sonneillon noticed Keshiema’s teeth sharpening before his eyes.
“You took everything!” She growled, launching towards him again. This time, instead of evading, he let her sword slice through him. His haunting laughter invaded her mind as her sword slashed back and forth through him without effect.
Swirling around her waist, he condensed his form, breaking several of her ribs. Unable to stay condensed for long, he shot away from her as she cried out. Fighting through the pain, she lunged at him again.
Her most recent training with Eurynome came to mind. 'Don’t lose your cool.' Midway through her strike, she dropped her sword, swiftly drawing Stolas's dagger from her hip. Knowing he was fast enough to evade a full-force heavy strike, she switched to quicker, more shallow attacks.
After avoiding her first few swings, it was his turn to cry out. Her blade caught him in his midsection. A gray streak formed across his chest. Without enough time to heal from his last injury, Sonneillon knew he was done for. Shrinking back, he watched helplessly as she stood over him. “Tell me why!”
The gray streaks in his form started to spread out, turning his body into a patchwork of gray and black. “I already told you. Your kind are scum. Worse than your fully human ancestors.”
“Why did Nergal want my blood!”
“To take your destiny and seize the throne for himself..." More gray than black covered him now. "But that damn Guardian...”
“Damien!” She turned away.
“I wouldn’t go in that cell if I were you…” The last patch of black mist faded to gray, and his form dissipated completely.
Ignoring Sonneillon's warning, Keshiema grabbed both of her swords and searched the large floor for the sunstone room. She knew she had found it when she spotted a lone Orc-Daemon; The wall behind him was made of translucent bricks, the colors of an autumn sunset. He The thick iron door he guarded sat across from a large set of windows. She cautiously approached, crouching behind a pallet of building materials as she thought about how to proceed.
“No use hiding. I smell you!” Keshiema stepped out of the shadows. “Mist man dead?” He asked, more curious than threatening.
“Yes, are you next?” She was less than confident about taking down a demon three times her weight in solid muscle.
“Never liked mist man. Rude, demanding. You want in, see moon child?”
“I do.” Her hands twitched, prepared to draw her swords in an instant.
“Orcs simple. Get paid, do job. You kill Nergal,” he paused to sniff the air, “four days ago. Now you kill mist. No Nergal, no mist, no pay.”
“So, um, may I go in?” He seemed nice enough, so she kept her words polite, despite her impatience.
The Orc shrugged. “Not advised.” Stepping aside, he huffed deeply. “But your choice.”
Standing on her toes, she could barely touch the barrel lock. Looking at the Orc-Daemon, she smiled kindly. “May I ask you to unlock the door for me?”
The orc laughed heartily, startling Keshiema. “Powerful ice girl need help from dim-wit orc?”
She wondered how he knew, as no one else had ever guessed her heritage before. “Are you a dim-wit?" Orcs spoke simply, but they were master strategists, often consulted first during war planning. "Just because you don’t use every word there is to offer, does not mean you are unintelligent.”
The Orc blinked at her in surprise. “Kind woman, I will help.”
After thanking the Orc for unlocking the door, she entered the cell.
