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by Whitty Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1310274
The story continued, for the first installment see Demon King
Chapter 3

The Demon King strolled amongst the bodies that now littered the castle he had brought to ruin. His gauntlets scratched across the paintings that decorated the walls. With a small spark he set painting after painting alight, burning away any remembrance of those who ruled here.

But a picture at the end of the hallway gained his attention

It was the portrait of King Syrec on his throne, but beside him was another. A woman clad in midnight blue robes and black hair falling to the arms of her seat by the King. Her eyes seemed filled with light despite the canvas boundaries and a smile faintly lingered at the corners of the mouth. Her pale skin almost shone off the painting.

A brief glance at the plaque beneath the painting told Deprian of her identity.
‘King Syrec and his daughter Leydian. Long may each of them rule this mighty kingdom.’

A look of intent glee spread throughout the demon’s face. He had destroyed this ‘mighty kingdom’ and now he would strip it off its successor.

“Come to me Leydian. Come to me with your noble thoughts and pure dreams,” he reached towards the painting and allowed a flame to ignite in the corner. This singular flame then crept along the sides and in this light the figure of Leydian shone even brighter and her beauty was made more evident, “And I’ll see to it their destroyed, one by one.”

And with a swift wave of his hand the fire crept inwards and begun to eat at the two figures with fiery teeth. A cloak swayed at the end of the flame lit hall and Deprian closed the doors behind him in a new pursuit of boredom.

After a while he happened to come across a door which was padlocked and chained from the world. Above the door it read, ‘Armoury of the King’

Caught up in interest Deprian burned away the locks and chains and opened the door. What he found satisfied and at the same time intensified his curiosity.

An upright crate of iron stood up against the wall amidst a variety of weapons.

Deprian looked upon these with disinterest and walked towards the casket. In every way conceivable this chest seemed forbidden, as though if you were to open it you would be condemned to the Underworld to suffer for all eternity.

A molten mess later and Deprian found why. A suit of golden armour untainted by rust or ageing. It seemed to light the entire room with alight source all its own.

Along the rim of the neck was laced with jewels. The arms of the suit were each decorated by intricate designs each with its own personal brilliance. The chain mail that took residence of the armour was also gold. The term fit for a king came to mind in every possible way.

Deprian stroked his claws over the armour leaving deep gouges in the beautiful craftsmanship. A worthy plaything.

The Demon King placed a hand flat across the chest of the armour and the once beautiful golden suit turned red and smouldering. A short while later the whole thing was a pool of molten gold on the floor.

Leaning over the mess Deprian made continuous circular movements around it. The gold seemed to obey his whim and began to swirl in a brilliant vortex. And, manipulating it with his hands, he came to have a golden sphere of solid gold. A beautiful toy by any standards. He flicked it around carelessly in his hands and wandered around the castle.

The sight of it all bored him. It was too comfortable, too comforting and too alive for his liking. It all seemed so welcoming if one was prepared to ignore the corpses that lay charred on the ground. Something had to be done about it all.

Walking across the castles bridge he looked about the castle. The last memory of a dead kingdom. Throwing his golden sphere behind his shoulder Deprian looked about him, not noticing the small crater that had been caused behind him.

Slowly he raised a hand towards the castle and a torrent of flames rose up out of the ground and onto the castle. The stone foundations began to melt away and the moat became a steaming trench. In a matter of seconds the entire castle was gone.

Then, taking a small bag from underneath his coat he spread some black powder into the air. Muttering something under his breath the dust became a dense cloud. Finishing the incantation the sky opened and a wreathing mass of fiery metal crashed from the skies.

Though there was no door Deprian walked up to the block of metal and walked straight through to his dominion.

A broad smile worked its way across his face. It was hell on the face of the planet.

Carcasses of the dead were hung up on black hooks their burnt faces looking blankly around their surroundings. Fiery torches dimly lit up their mangled frames. Great black gargoyles guarded the hallways. Their jaws seemed almost baying for blood and their claws seemed chipped and scarred as if they had once actually been alive at some time before man.

Apart from the flames that lit the hallways there was nothing but darkness which seemed to span for miles. Every doorway cried with the voices of the damned souls that resided in the Underworld. The lullaby of Devils. The fortress seemed to close in from all angles save for where the flames gave any light. It seemed to fear light yet at the same time diminish it into nothing.

Without fear or apprehension Deprian stepped into the suffocating darkness and walked the ominous halls of his own making. Every corner seemed foreboding and dangerous and he revelled in it. As he walked the lanterns lit his way in the darkness presenting new hallways and rooms. The entire place was like a maze yet he felt so at home he could have travelled blindfolded. Any mortal man would have died of insanity by now. That is if they had made it past the gate and hadn’t run for their lives.

And then he entered the throne room. How the former king’s had lacked the grandeur and power that this room held. Deadly beauty lay in the pillars that lay at the sides of the hall. A diamond pattern laced the ground and the surface gleamed in the lights of the fire, the only part of this domain that was no abhorrence to light. And there at the end of the hall was the throne.

A ridged monstrosity of absolute evil and ruination. Glorious and deadly the throne dragged the eyes there whether they wished to or not. Deprian bathed in the tremors of unspoken curses and enchantments this single piece emanated from itself. Walking across to the throne with an expression of near awe across face. Taking off his cloak and draping if around the back of the throne Deprian sat on it both arms spread in front of him, the image of a true ruler.

And with the scene set and his throne rightfully placed a long and loud roar of laughter erupted from the Demon King’s throat and echoed around the walls.

Chapter 4

On Carlenai and Leydian rode to their forsaken land,unaware of the degree of danger that awaited them there. Their horses charged on though both the riders and steeds were becoming weary after a full days riding without pause. The sky was still overcast and very few comforting glimpses of light were given from the black sky.

The mountains hung high and powerful as if warding off any likely trespassers from the land of Thespian. No trees stood this close to the central city. And never had since time immemorial. It was an old folklore legend that a witch had once cursed the land into infertility to make it her hiding place from the sun.

Remembering such tales Leydian hunched closer to her horse and cast a glance over to Carlenai. He and his steed were both weatherworn and tired as was she had her stallion. They could afford to take a night’s rest and there was a full days riding ahead.

“Carlenai lets stop and make camp.”

Carlenai shot a wary look around the surrounding mountains. He knew the legend of the witch. He also knew of the legends of harpies and demons that lived atop the high cliff faces that surrounded them. Nevertheless he gave a swift nod at the princess and brought his horse to a stop and pulled out the camping materials from the harness. Looking around for any sings of danger he unravelled the tents and began to hammer the pegs in.

The princess was wandering close by looking up at the pitch black sky. No stars, they were denied any sort of light. A scratching of some on flint and a roaring fire was lighting up the scene around them. The cliffs seemed to star at them with hundreds of glistening eyes. They were being watched surely. But whatever it was seemed to only be observing and keeping its distance. Possibly a scavenging bird. Leydian relaxed slightly and took her place by the fire while Carlenai prepared the food.

All the time they ate they were in silence. Neither people dared bring any attention to themselves. If there was any danger it was better to be at peace with it rather than make it agitated and aggressive. Their stomachs full they each sat alone pondering on each others personal thoughts.

It had never been heard of to make camp in these lands and no precedent had been laid down to it. As a precaution both of them kept swords close to them halfway in their sheaths. Carlenai kept his face hidden underneath his black cloak and Leydian kept her head down underneath her locks of black hair.

At last the time came to retire to the tent.

Sleep did not come easy to either of them and often they would cast anxious glances to each other frightened and anxious of the stories they had both heard of the witches and ghouls that traversed the cliff sides. But this thought was laid to rest after about an hour or so of pondering on whether the tales were true or not.

Each of them tossed and turned in their own separate sheets and warmth did not find its way into their tent no matter how hard they wished for it. The night was as cold as the atmosphere and surrounded them. Death hung in every whisper of air and every rustle of their sheets was like a siren singing softly to the nearby predators of the night, telling them to come and see what is behind the cotton sheets.

After what seemed like an age sleep finally came to them and they both traversed to their own separate fantasies within their heads. Leydian dreamt of her beloved Treyen and the tight hold of his embrace as she ran towards him. Carlenai dreamt of his wife so long ago lost to death and the times that they had shared together.

In a dark crevice in the mountains above the two slumbering travellers, a glinting pair of malicious yellow eyes shot open in the darkness. The eyes were followed by the illumination from a jagged set of white teeth tinted with the blood of previous travellers. A dirty serrated hand crept out from the shadows followed by a scaled grey arm and then a wreathing mass of withered hair. A serpentine tongue flickered in and out of the mouth as if tasting the stillness of the night, savouring every moment of it.

The demonic figure crept out of the crevice and made its way down the cliff side towards the tent. Its claws raked the cliff face and a shrill scraping sound echoed through the night. They would not hear her. She had made louder approaches before now and none had heard her. And even if they did it would not matter. They would die soon enough. She would feast on their flesh and their beauty would diminish just as hers had when she had been cursed to damnation all those eons ago.

Leydian lay slumbering in her own private worlds oblivious to the imminent danger that was coming for her and her servant and friend. She dreamed of the sweet smells of the wild flowers that would await her as soon as they left these mountain paths and thought of her fathers smiling face as she walked through the doors of her home and he welcomed her into his arms.

Carlenai, however, became restless during his slumbers, some inner voice was bellowing for him to wake up and draw his sword at the ready. Urgent it seemed to him as though some sixth sense was trying to operate if only the body would allow it to. Louder and louder the voice seemed to get as though someone was actually screaming in his ear and yet it sounded as though it was being carried from a far of place within his head. He tried to fight the voice in preference for sleep but the voice became all too nagging and fretful and finally he awoke and the sounds that surrounded them made his blood run cold.

There was a cacophony of what sounded like swords being scratched against the surface of stone and a serpentine tongue hissing and spitting above then and then beyond that a heavy footfall of claws and something else. A shivering mass of what sounded like birds. Not stopping to think what this strange creature could be he obeyed his instincts and pulled his sword out of its sheath. Slowly he put a hand towards the princess and rocked her back and forth until she woke up and silently motioned to her sword. She nodded once and slowly pulled her sword out of its scabbard. No sooner had she done this than a mass of sinew and claw hit the top of the tent, destroying it in one fell swoop.

Fighting out of the mess both Leydian and Carlenai stood up their swords ready awaiting any form of attack from this unknown predator.

“Sssuch fiesssty pretty prey you are my darlingsss. Come now, come to my embrace and let me break you in two and devour and flesssh.” Every ‘s’ in her speech seemed prolonged like that of a serpent and seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The sounds of claws raking the mountains surrounded them and the screeching noise of her cackle swooped up and around them.

Carlenai backed up towards Leydian and both of them stood back to back awaiting an attack from their invisible enemy. Both of them looked frantically to the skies and then down to the low ground searching desperately for some glimpse of a shadow or some glimmer of a tooth in their sights to aid them.

But no sight of it, only the loud raucous laughter and claw scrapes that nearly deafened them.

“Now DIE!” All of a sudden the sound came abruptly and clearly from above them and they saw a silhouette of writhing hair and claws pouncing upon them. In unison both Leydian and Carlenai thrust their swords upwards at their opponent. But the beast swiped both weapons out of their hands and sent both of them sprawling away from each other. They were no unarmed, completely defenceless and by and large alone in the darkness.

Carlenai grabbed his nearby swords and his scattered wits and roared, “Milady, make for your sword!”

Leydian groped like a blind woman for her sword but could not find the welcoming feel of cold steel or the golden hilt of her sword. She crawled every which way amongst rocks and dirt to look for some form of weapon to guard herself with should the beast attack her on her own. The darkness was suffocating and she could only just make out Carlenai across the way his sword flashing, warding off the attacker. After a brief fruitless search she tried to make her way over to Carlenai.

But with a sharp thud and a rough shake she found herself lying on her back looking up at the beast. A single ray of light shone through the clouds and Leydian first came to look upon the beast that haunted the folklores of the land.

The Thespian Witch, the description given my past travellers was as accurate as could be possible. The lively hair, the haggard face, the claws and the scaly presence. She may have been a beautiful demon at some point before memory but age and bloodlust had ravaged her looks and now she seemed like an old wizened woman were it not for the hair and claws. The eyes seemed mad with hunger and her teeth glinted like lightning bolts in her mouth. Congealed blood was smeared all over them and Leydian gagged underneath her foul stench.

“I will dessstroy your beauty too before too long my pretty one and sssoon death ssshall come!” And with that the demon raised her hand to deal the final and fatal blow to the princess.
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