The World According to Demons
The noise level in the dining hall after the young god dragged his human outside became nothing short of deafening within some fifteen minutes. Those gathered for dinner now felt free to unleash everything from wild speculation to mere opinion. Everything save a solid fact of course! Since Bloodseeker had reluctantly left the area with the injured Icewind, the level of logic in the dinner hall had dropped significantly in inverse proportion to the racket that a couple of dozen excited demons could produce.
Deathwalker concentrated serenely on finishing his meal of dripping meat and grossly over-sweetened bread, aware that his duties this night ensured it would be his last snack for many hours. He didn't exactly ignore the bickering and speculations of the diners surrounding him---in fact he would remember every last word down to the inflection of speech.
But he politely and firmly refused to take a part in it. He hadn't formed a strong enough opinion yet, about either the godling---or his interesting companion. There were too many variables. And though he'd quietly enjoyed the little comedy that so masterfully put that fool Icewind in his place, he saw no reason to talk that event to death, either. Therefore he was silent, practically the only calm presence in the roomful of chattering demons.
"So he's the offspring of a god, so what? That doesn't mean he's the chosen one! Everyone knows his mother is a fallen goddess---so he's obviously reaped a few benefits from his bloodline."
Archangel paused, looking slightly unsure of his next suggestion. "I don't think he should place him in line for the throne, not based on this."
"You saw what he did, what he became---even child gods don't draw darkness to them," Darkdreamer commented stiffly. "If you did not see his radiance---then you are truly blind."
"He is the one," Logan promised, stepping outa the corner where the human oracle had waited silently taking in the show. "Lilly agrees."
"Then I will assume you have seen him in full glory, not masked as a mere boy?" Archangel snapped, sounding positively furious for some peculiar reason.
"Oh indeed, and what he will one day become will astound us all. He is more than the promised one---he is our future, he's everyone's future."
"Bah, you see a lie."
"And you refuse the truth because what he is frightens you."
The large demon stood, knocking his chair to the floor as though he intended to strangle Logan in front of them all. "I fear nothing!"
"Except for the unknown," Logan stated simply.
"The Prophecies Gabriel say the Dark One is both good and evil, creation and destruction, the father and the son. He's the----"
"The alpha and omega---we've all read it, there's not much credence lent to that one. It was written by an angel after all."
"Angels are better than demons when it comes to seeing the truth and writing it down," Mish-shy reminded them all with an evil glint in his eye. "The Dark One prophecies were written by Elandra, and though she was a brilliant creature her vision of him might have been clouded slightly. She was one of the six descendants of original evil, after all. "
"You suggest that such a woman would lie?" Darkdreamer actually snapped at their king, his eyes bright with outrage.
"No." Mish-shy laughed. "I only suggest that she saw him in a certain light. The one thing I know for a fact is Shyle were meant for more than mindless destruction and accumulation. We were never meant to be disciples to some mammoth power, nor were we meant to bend both our knees and will to something that would lead us into oblivion. This boy is everything we need---and we are everything he needs---the relationship is symbiotic and whether you like it or not inescapable."
"I never put much thought into the old prophecies," Silverpaw chimed in. "And what's to happen will happen. None of us can change it with talk. It seems to me that we only have two problems---a new prince that needs some raising, some looking after---and a batch of angry vampires who'll probably wanta take back what's theirs."
"Indeed, they'll follow him eventually---demand his return. They won't get it."
"A given," Silverpaw agreed simply. "None of us wants to return this boy to them---not with what we know lingering on our conscience. IT wouldn't be honorable---now would it?"
"I never said anything about returning him to those bastards!" Archangel inserted as he reeled his temper back in and picked up his chair. "I only said I didn't know if he was---the god we were looking for."
"Makes no difference," Silverpaw remarked, all fatherly like. "He's gonna be our prince---and you'll treat him as such because it's the Shyle way---unless you'd like to challenge him."
"Of course not---he's just a boy."
"And of course he'd kill ya." Dalic chimed in, the grin on his face positively ecstatic as he shoveled in his own food.
"Enough bickering, it's pointless," Mish-shy said pleasantly as Archangel opened his mouth in fresh outrage. The other demon almost looked as if arguing with his king was on his mind, until Deathwalker added a remark.
"Pointless and annoying; he is who he is. If in a package somewhat unexpected by most of you."
There was enough respect for Deathwalker's insight that everyone shut up on the instant, studying him with expectant surprise. Deathwalker was reserved for a demon and seldom voiced an opinion offhandedly. That he'd spoken at all in front of the pack of them rather than privately to Mish-shy lent weight to his words.
"And what of the human with him? What part will he play? I suppose you were *expecting* that as well?" Archangel dared to remark after a few moments of watching Deathwalker calmly finish his meal with no further comment. "Even you suggested that the Blade was some sort of weapon before today! Don't pretend you knew all along that this---possible godling---would have a pet human in tow!""
"A weapon indeed, but like the Dark One, not quite fitting any demon's assumptions," Walker remarked in a neutral tone, standing up gracefully and brushing some crumbs from his hands. Exasperating and remote as always, he offered nothing further, instead turning his pale blue eyes to the smirking demon king. Mish-shy looked insufferably pleased with himself, which amused Deathwalker somewhat. As if he looked forward to what a handful the boy was bound to be, even without a protective human as a side dish!
"I hope your lady wives are prepared to miss you for awhile," Mish-shy said briskly and with enthusiasm, as if he and Walker were not surrounded by a pack of curious demons quivering with interest. "We have much to discuss, it seems."
Deathwalker permitted a faint smile to touch his thin, aristocratic lips. "My lady wives know better than to nag me about it, at least!" he remarked as courteously as a foreign diplomat. "I am at your service as always, my king."
So strange and exciting, this mixture of dark and light when they had expected only midnight's blackness! Perhaps he did not see futures as Lilly did, but he saw possibilities often. Not clearly, more as shapes of nebulous promise in the patterns of the world that surrounded his waking dreams.
These two---this Dark One and his attendant spirit---carried possibilities that would either shatter worlds or create them.
Maybe both?
Yes, Mish-shy would want his insights on this, as the king always did. And he would do his best to answer in a helpful fashion, leaving out nothing. Even his feelings, which this time were less detached than he could have wished.
The sight of the boy had struck him semi-painfully, as if he watched a close relative going through necessary suffering to reach a goal.
The sight of his companion had affected him---differently. In fact Walker wasn't sure whether for once his keen insight might be hitting a false note. The shock of first sighting the human had been strong, but not familiar at all. He couldn't even find a name for the blend of warmth and amused exasperation, although it somewhat resembled taking a deep draught of brandied wine and then falling over backwards. And in a life as long and eventful as his had been, to feel something entirely new was different indeed.
What was there about this stray human that made him so important? Not only to demonkind, but to Walker specifically?
Deathwalker was far from prone to impulsive attachments. No, there was something more significant here, too nebulous to grasp or understand at once.
Well, he would have many weeks to study the pair. Although he could faintly feel even now the gathering of vampire might, Lee's fury and determination, Walker was not overly concerned.
Not that an enraged vampire god was unworthy of respect.
But no vampire ever fledged could best a determined demon in a fight, fair or unfair. And Mish-shy was the most cunning of demonkind.
Lee might as well stay home and polish his fangs, Walker thought, with a twitch of a smile that had all the watching demons curious as hell. He merely gave them a courteous nod before striding out at Mish-shy's side, knowing that it would drive them all crazy for the rest of the day.
Bloodseeker met them a few paces outside the door, falling into step alongside them outa habit. He'd long ago become Mish-shy's unspoken third in command and needed no invite to tag along.
In fact the doctor had spent many a night inside the demon king's personal chambers but whether this was business or pleasure no one knew. Seeker was one of few demons that actually managed to keep his private life private. Although speculation was rampant outa Bloodseeker's earshot, as was only normal with demons.
Tonight the physician had a rather bitter look spilling across his overly serious features, obviously unhappy with the night's events. "I swear, if that fool so much as breathes in my direction again this week I'll be slipping poison in his next injection." He looked beyond annoyed as he used some kinda white gauze-like cloth to clean his hands methodically.
"So how is Icewind's dick, anyway?" Mish-shy asked bluntly causing the demon Doctor to scowl but in the opposite direction. Assuring their king wouldn't catch the insolent look.
"As big and as determined as ever, you'd think that pup coulda swiped off a few inches at least. Now THAT woulda been impressive."
Mish-shy laughed sounding honestly charmed by Seeker's gruesome imagery. "So how is it you're here with us, if his dick was so determined?" Deathwalker raised an eyebrow at Mish-shy's somewhat unsubtle question but said nothing.
"I knocked his ass out!" Bloodseeker snapped sounding honestly offended. "I'm a warrior as well as a doctor, you know?"
Mish-shy turned this over in his ancient brain, looking utterly serious he asked. "With your fist."
"What?" Seeker asked, distracted as he examined his obviously injured hand.
"You knocked him out with your fist?"
"Hell no, I'm not THAT good." The sudden smile on Bloodseeker's face was a little unexpected. Obviously he and Mish-shy shared a kind of intimacy but Deathwalker doubted it was sexual. "I used a shitload of blue mist while he was explaining the finer points of 'You touch, you tease, you finish' you wouldn't think he understood 'medical attention'. I shoulda let him bleed! Did you know the kid's nails are poisonous?"
"Yes, I felt the effects after are first encounter. The poison is immature at best."
"It wasn't on Icewind. He was feeling the effects before I even got him back to his room. Potent and measured, he coulda killed him instantly if he'd chosen to."
"I wonder why he didn't?" Their king looked between them for an answer but Bloodseeker only shrugged.
"Instinct, perhaps." Deathwalker offered this casually. "Maybe our brother plays some vital role in the future? Darkdreamer certainly seemed to suggest it."
"Possibly. One of many unanswered questions we must deal with. Seeker, your impressions?"
"I think the Dark One's power came before his understanding, what I mean is---his knowledge of this world seemed to grow with each passing moment in our present reality. And if I'm not mistaken, the source of his enlightenment is the human. For some reason his presence encourages what's deep inside Damian's soul to seep forth. With enough time in our reality the Dark One would probably achieve full godhood."
"What about his body?"
"That's the proverbial catch---it's not strong enough to take the weight of such power. It'd probably kill him. I'd be willing to bet his visits are limited at the moment. Maybe spurred by necessity."
"I got the impression he knew you, Mish-shy?" Walker asked this question but Bloodseeker supplied the answer.
"If he's really a god then he knows us all. If the infinity theory is correct then he's done all this before and as THAT entity probably remembers it---or bits of it as he moves into the god phase. I'd really have to examine him to know more. You got any whisky in this poorly stocked liquor cabinet of yours?"
Bloodseeker true to his nature veered off in the direction of the booze and allowed Deathwalker and Mish-shy to settle in. "Indeed, Correth filled it according to your specification Brother." The title Seeker was given in Mish-shy's personal dwelling was not uncommon but Deathwalker noted he was never referred to as such outside of these rooms.
"Orders?" the doctor asked, as he theatrically flipped several bottles. If the man ever lost the knack for healing he'd make an expert bartender, the show he put on was almost as good as his drinks.
"Just wine for me," Deathwalker said hastily, raising a hand as if he feared Bloodseeker would force the alcohol down his throat. "And not that much. I'm still recovering from Flame Dragon's party."
Bloodseeker snorted, but reached for a different bottle. "That was over a week ago and you're still moaning? It was a dull party and the booze was inferior! I was there too, don't forget!"
"How could I forget?" Deathwalker agreed pleasantly. "Inferior liquor or not, you sang after drinking enough of it. The sound still haunts my dreams."
"Deathwalker is a true rarity, a temperate demon," Mish-shy laughed heartily as Bloodseeker gave Walker an almost comically disgusted look. But his eyes were nearly serious as he examined the tall, cool-eyed demon who had risen through his ranks so quietly and efficiently. "I value his judgment." The words seemed casual yet laced with meaning.
Bloodseeker made a rude sound, and Deathwalker actually laughed as he reached for the wine the younger demon held out to him with an insulting air. He already knew what his king wished to ask him, or thought he did. It was pleasant that they were right and that Damian was indeed the Dark God they had been awaiting. In fact, Walker wasn't quite sure why any demon would bother to bicker over that point! He himself had known from the moment he clapped eyes on the boy, but then, appearances had never fooled Walker. He had an unfair advantage.
But the danger De represented could hardly be ignored, delightful as it was to be right. A god with far more power than knowledge or ability to control it? Wonderful! And if he grew even stronger in his godhood as they trained him, which seemed a given, that danger would increase. To bring a fierce beast with you into battle was impressive, but what if the leash snapped and the beast decided you were dinner rather than ally? Truly, though, Walker felt that Mish-shy was more concerned with how they would manage to direct the fledgling god's training in the path he needed, rather than the danger involved. Damian didn't seem the sort who took to being "handled" well.
"The Blade is the key," Walker murmured, almost to himself. "Make him a demon, and the boy will follow."
"Well, I suppose children do need their toys, perhaps you should just withhold his playtime with the 'golden blade' until he decides to be reasonable. Providing he doesn't throw a tantrum, then perhaps you can just spank his ass---he is after all no bigger than a child, even if a bit more impressive." Bloodseeker plopped down in the chair nearest them and hoisted his feet onto a nearby table. "I don't suppose it'd be all that hard---if the godliness didn't poke his head out the door." With blatant carelessness he shuffled his feet scuffing the ancient artifact to achieve his own comfort.
Deathwalker eyed the demon doctor. "Don't count on me to deliver such a ultimatum. I have no wish to end up under your care with an injury like Icewind's."
"No I suppose not! We probably couldn't keep 'em apart anyway."
"Oh---what makes you say that?" Mish-shy inquired lightly as he accepted the drink Seeker offered him from his now seated position.
"It's just a feeling." Seeker said with a smile as he settled in to study the dilemma at hand. "Perhaps if we appeal to the human's sense of honor? Convince him the boy needs us?"
"I've made a start on that," Mish-shy agreed. "Thing is, I'm not convinced the human trusts me completely. Given their reception here, that is."
"True, their first taste of demonkind might have given them the wrong idea. Humans aren't known for their logic skills, and they jump to bad conclusions so easily," Walker agreed a little dryly. He stretched his long legs under the table comfortably, and finished his modicum of wine.
"Yes, humans do tend to take such greetings poorly." Walker's eyes were drawn to the Doctor as he swirled his drink in the glass thoroughly mixing the layers of color into a vibrant red that reminded Deathwalker of Vampirc blood. "So sensitive---wouldn't know a good time if it bit 'em in the ass." With a leveling smile the Doctor took a healthy size drink.
Walker was unsure if the remark was intended to be sarcastic or not. His friend had a strange sense of humor even for a demon and he decided it might be best to let the comment rest, untouched by the more civilized voices in the room.
"Well, I have several humans amongst my servants and get along with them fairly well. Besides, this Blade interests me. If you wish, Mish-shy, I will take on the task of recruiting this human to our cause. I perceive little difficulty; he seems sensible, beneath his sharp tongue."
"Sensible?" A small laugh accompanied Seeker's disbelieving snort. " I suppose he's as sensible as any human could be chasing around THAT boy." The Doctor was far too amused---or perhaps delighted was the more accurate word. He wasn't really talking to either of them, his eyes fixed on the swirling color in his glass. "I'd say he's hooked---through one vice or another. " It was more like commenting to himself loud enough for them to hear. He was being quite polite tonight, not making his friends probe his thoughts for his feelings on the matter. "The boy may follow his companion into Demonhood but I think what Rhion needs---is some way to assure the boys safety. It seemed important enough for to him to risk the wrath of demons only a short while ago. It'd be great if he trusted us---it'd be better if he realized he needed us."
"So we convince him that the Shyle represent the only path for Damian? That we are the key to his survival, it is after all, only the truth."
"The truth will buy us much flexibility with this one, I think."
"In fact, I think this one can *only* be swayed with the truth," Walker said, not even knowing he would speak the words until they passed his lips. "He has a gift of clear seeing---you might think him besotted and blind to the Dark One's nature, but I believe on some level he understands all that he needs to."
Seeker snorted. "Some days you sound more like a Prophet than those whose job it is! No wonder you're such a dull dog, Walker---you think too much." The demon doctor's words were light, belied by an interested glance at the king's second.
"While you, of course, bumble through your lives without a care in the world save to eat, drink and fornicate," Deathwalker said dryly.
Bloodseeker laughed out loud. "Don't confuse me with Icewind, or the next time you need doctoring I may suddenly lose my skills!"
Mish-shy snorted at this, while Walker grinned faintly and quickly, amused but not by nature much of a laugher. "How the entire race of demons has survived before you honed your skills, I cannot begin to think," the tall demon observed with mild sarcasm.
"Me, either!" Bloodseeker remarked energetically. He *almost* got a small laugh from Walker, that time.
Mish-shy, though, had grown pensive. He thoughtfully rolled his now empty goblet between his massive hands. "What, though, do you think of the human? Not the Blade---the other one."
Deathwalker lifted an eyebrow. "The 'other' one?" Bloodseeker swore, and got up to pour himself more whiskey.
Despite the short, casual nod he gave, Mish-shy looked almost too serious. "The one who shares the body with the godling. What do you make of *that*, you two?" His tone was insistent.
Deathwalker met Bloodseeker's eyes, as the demon doctor gulped noisily. Then he looked back at Mish-shy. For once, he felt he and Seeker were pretty much in agreement.
"Complicated," he responded, simply.
Then, as Mish-shy gave him one keen, rather sarcastic look, Walker sighed and added, "And---if we don't handle him with care---trouble."
"You mean MORE trouble," Bloodseeker grinned, and Deathwalker eyed him with resignation. It was SO like the demon doctor to sound almost happy about that little fact.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the small hours just after midnight, the dark-haired boy opened blue, gentle eyes and blinked at the decorated ceiling in momentary confusion. His rich, sultry beauty was only highlighted by the vigorous appearance of the man who lay still asleep, muscular arms wrapped comfortably around his fragile companion.
And once he realized he was being held---and especially that the someone who held him snored at a volume to wake echoes throughout the room---the smaller boy relaxed. He didn't bother to turn his cerulean gaze to check the identity of the loud fellow in his bed. In fact, all tension and bewilderment seemed to drain away as he whispered a name as if tasting the reality of it.
"Rhion." He snuggled closer, turning and burrowing into the blond's ribs like a puppy seeking comfort.
Comfort wasn't entirely what Daniel was seeking, though.
He breathed in Rhion's masculine scent with innocent delight, committing it firmly to memory. With memory, came thoughts that made him blush.
Innocence faded. Gently, hesitantly, Daniel snaked out his tongue and tasted Rhion's chest.
Rhion's snores broke, and his grip on Daniel tightened. He murmured "De, goback'sleepdammit!" in a thick warm voice, but he did not really waken.
Daniel frowned a little. "De" indeed! He'd had his turn, and more than that! The Dark One must learn to share this part of his life, too.
Rhion's snores had doubled in volume, nearly rattling Daniel outta the bed. He laughed a little, but really he was getting a bit upset at how solidly Rhion could snooze! A flurry of kisses over his rib cage had no noticeable effect, save to make him giggle and swat at Daniel's head. Ticklish, the boy thought, finding this charming---in a way!
He wanted Rhion awake though. He wanted---well, what would De do about this situation? Probably start shouting at the poor man! Or punching him. Or maybe---
Daniel blushed furiously, and stared at the ceiling a little bit more. What if Rhion didn't---like it? Or even worse, slept on regardless?
But the heat now in his body was too powerful to ignore; it trumped his embarrassment completely. Quickly and firmly, before he could think himself out of it, he reached deep under the covers and wrapped his hand firmly around Rhion's cock.
What he grabbed leaped to life almost instantly, and so did the man attached to it. Daniel smiled nervously into startled, sleepy, but definitely lustful amber eyes.
"Good morning," he said, determinedly beginning to move his hand and consequently what was in it.
in truth, he had no idea what time of day it was. And it really didn't matter.
Morning or evening, it was time for Rhion to get up and play again.
End.