Training: Day One
As they moved through the sparsely mirrored tunnels that emptied out onto the Arena floor, De couldn't help but focus on the eerie blue torchlight that illuminated the passageway. It was funny how the light's reflection seemed to spring from deep inside the mirror itself instead of just resting on the surface like most reflections did.
He studied the glow from the flickering torches, and followed the light down to where it seemed to end, realizing that only his destination was essentially visible. The bottom half of the passageway itself was bathed in absolute darkness.
In wartime this hall woulda served as the perfect trap. Anyone who cast a glance down its length woulda assumed the passageway held nothing, yet upon entering would have quickly realized that death lined the walls---death in the form of demon warriors, anyway.
It was a pity that the brilliant illusion also concealed the artistry that littered the marble walls. Layers of history, as new events were carved over the old. A constantly expanding manuscript that continued its endless journey over the walls surface while the demon generations progressed.
The chaotic twist and curl of words had at first seemed unreadable. What kind of nonsense was it to write one book over top of another---and on the goddamn wall no less? But strangely enough with Daniel's help De was starting to understand the methods used to decipher the demon histories and before long he could actually see the pages as they turned. It was just another illusion, but it was one your eyes had to be willing to see before the effect actually worked.
He thanked the gods for Daniel's bizarre curiosity; otherwise they'd have never learned anything truly important. Scholars were useful, though sometimes having to share both body and mind with one could be annoying.
//So can sharing a body with a rumored god! //
"Indeed!" De agreed out loud, not caring that his side of the conversation was all that could be heard.
Most people would never understand what this sharing actually meant. How could they, if they hadn't experienced such a thing firsthand? De and Daniel not only traded spaces but they could mingle within one another's very soul (like they were doing in this moment) Which of course changed both their personalities a bit.
Things that didn't normally interest De when he was on his own suddenly became fascinating when Daniel was a part of him. And the normally timid Daniel became much more assertive when De was thrown into the mix.
There was usually some measure of balance between them, the outside world circulating around them equally until one or the other was required to move into the forefront. Moments like these were the norm, not the exception.
It was just that most times, when danger was at hand Daniel was safely tucked away outa harms reach. But his inner twin was being stubborn today, insisting on being there---at least until things got hairy.
As they stepped from the darkness onto the Arena floor they were forced to cover their dark blue eyes against the brightness that filled the demon practice arena.
The silver-kissed light from the sunstones overhead effectively set the room ablaze, illuminating the expanse with a crispness that not even natural sunlight coulda provided. It was designed so that every drop of blood could be clearly tallied, every hit could be clearly observed. Even the white sand floor had a perverse kinda purpose.
Being here reminded De of a time not so long ago when he would have relished his entrance. Give him a few thousand spectators and a worthy opponent and he could give you a match worth betting on. The only thing that was missing was the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd.
De had been one of the youngest to ever participate in the public arena, but also one of the most successful despite the fact he'd been only fourteen and mortal at the time.
Lee's decision to let him participate in the bloody games had ruffled many feathers outside of House Leviathan as well as a few inside---the truth was De had his supporters, however misguided they were---they were the ones who truly believed the dark god propaganda and lobbied for his every whim like they were footnotes in what was meant to be.
The problem was that true believers never wanted to be proved wrong, so these people were a slip of the blade between being the anointed followers of the next dark god or a bunch of fools who'd pinned their hopes on the wrong kid. In the end they'd opted for keeping him out of one of the bloodiest sports on the planet but their opinion hadn't mattered to Lee. Thank the gods because for once De and his father were in complete agreement!
The frustration of De's daily life had made the arena a welcome escape; it was the perfect place to vent his frustration and he never had to worry about going too far because that was exactly the point of the game. The more blood the better and if someone accidentally died, then so be it.
The only type of match De had never taken part in was "to the death" because apparently even Lee wasn't willing to risk that much in a mere game.
If Mish-shy wanted to teach him, then he would learn. His whole life had been about learning, he was used to it. The Arena had been a lesson---it had taught De to crave the battle and to relish the bloodshed, there was no reason why things should change now. Life was simply an accumulation of lessons and the newest was entitled how to fight a demon king and he couldn't sensibly deny that such a lesson was useful considering his current circumstances.
Standing there in the middle of an arena floor contemplating what a fighting lesson from Mish-shy might mean, De was reminded of his old life. The uncertainty, the struggle to please, the obvious destiny he was meant to fulfill---the one everyone seemed to buy into but him.
It was insanity! But it was his insanity and he understood it.
"I see you've brought the tainted human with you this afternoon." De noticed Rhion as he moved forward onto the balcony's edge, and for a moment was angered at what he thought was a slight to his friend. Then he grasped the demon's meaning and strangely his temper eased into curiosity. Why he should care if Mish-shy insulted Rhion he didn't bother to think about.
"Why do you use the word 'tainted' when you speak of my human side?" It was an honest question one Mish-shy seemed amused by.
"When the makers pieced this puzzle together---" Mish-Shy waved his hand over De's much smaller form. "They added in your restraints---they don't quite fit like the rest."
"Oh that was helpful." De mouthed just loud enough to be rude. He was still curious but he'd learned not to delve too deeply or seem too interested in what his elders had to say, otherwise it lead to things they could hold over his head later. "I shouldn't have supposed a straight answer was in order." Mish-shy only smiled, showing a few too many teeth to suit the vampirc prince.
"You'll find in time, that answers will present themselves to those who are worthy. Being told the why's of anything is never as satisfying as discovering them for yourself."
"That's mighty scholarly of you." De pointed out as Mish-shy made his way to the weapons case, choosing a simple arm gauntlet and sword.
"Come, choose your best weapon." De hesitated at first trying to urge Daniel back into the safety of their soul but his stubborn twin refused to budge so after a moment's pause they compromised and approached guardedly.
They wasted no time with choosing, immediately settling on a simple sword from the lavish assortment and stepping back safely out of the demon king's reach, their weapon secure and ready within a split second.
"Were your teachers also your enemies?" Mish-shy asked curiously as he made his way into their personal space readying his own weapon.
"Some of them were." Mish-shy only nodded, making the first move almost casually which De reflected back at him.
"Mystic, was he your enemy?" Again he struck forcing De to think as he defended himself.
"No, he was honorable."
"And your other teachers were not?" Another strike and it was obvious that the conversation would follow Mish-shy's instruction.
"No."
"And he gives no explanation," Mish-shy teased sweeping De's feet out from under him with one easy swipe of a massive foot. "Perhaps you should concentrate more on my next move than trying to map out our conversation."
Staring up at the demon from the floor it was obvious he was serious and not simply amused. "So you will teach me to talk as I battle---wonderful!" The sarcasm wasn't lost on Mish-shy but he didn't respond, in fact he simply extended his hand and waited patiently for De to take it, which he didn't opting instead to push himself up.
As De made his way to his feet, his eyes grew slightly darker than before, announcing Daniel's signal hesitant step back towards the relative safety of Damian's consciousness.
"You will be seventeen soon ---a man finally." Again there was a simple strike, some lazy maneuvering and countermove by De.
"I'll never be a man." De pointed out as he clipped just the bare edge of the demon's gauntlet. "I died before achieving---and even if I hadn't---" De gave a slight open armed bow as if to point out his smaller than average frame. "I would never have been accepted."
"No, maybe not by the vampires." De couldn't help laughing a little at Mish-shy's comment.
"And your demon hordes will be so much more enlightened, I'm sure."
"Demons, more enlightened than vampires? Oh, undoubtedly!" Mish-shy's laughter was rich, hearty, obviously sincere. "So tell me, vampire prince. Who is this other human you bear so close to your heart? The outside one, who fights for you? Where does he fit into the picture?"
"He's nothing!" De snapped, whatever good humor he'd gathered from the fight gone in a heartbeat at Mish-shy's sudden question. "Close to my heart, please! A hanger-on I picked up along my way. He bears no part in this; you leave him be. He's just a stupid human without the sense to understand demons!"
"Stupid?" Mish-shy's voice was soft as he delivered a stunning strike that De barely caught on the edge of his blade. "Strange--I and Deathwalker found him intelligent, for a human. A human that chooses to befriend a vampire, that is."
"Ignorance and intelligence are different!" De hissed furiously, actually pushing the demon back as he exerted himself and scrambled to his feet. "And Rhion's an idiot, but he's not for you to----!"
"To what, little prince?" Mish-shy whispered, and De found himself incapable of an answer, except for the sudden fury of his bladework. He didn't want to analyze, why suddenly he wanted to tear Mish-shy limb from limb.
Above the combatants, Deathwalker smiled faintly as he watched De's sudden furious attack as well as the gathering darkness that waited to push the boy into a force instead of a mere well-trained young warrior. That darkness might not claim him this day, or the day after. But too many more snipes about his human would only edge it closer and speed its coming.
"He's good," Rhion murmured. "Much better than I am. Now why on earth did he let me kick his ass?" Now his tone actually approached offended. Deathwalker glanced at him is some surprise as the human laughed and added, "This training looks harsh to me, but it speaks to something inside him. It's what he needs to survive, correct?"
"This is a part of what he needs," Walker agreed quietly. He studied the human with an alert interest he hadn't felt stir this strongly in millennia. Puzzling though it was to him, he just couldn't "read" Rhion as he effortlessly did most demons and all humans. And therefore, the man's quick grasp of facts instead of the yammering about his lover's safety Walker had rather expected was even more delightful.
Rhion smiled, faint and chilly, his eyes still locked on the battle. "I suppose you would say he also needs a people, since his own are so worthless?"
"You are pure human?" Walker asked dryly. Rhion's eyes snapped to him briefly, surprised Walker permitted himself a slight smile, a flicker of approval barely glimpsed before fading. "My apologies for the question, but you reason more like a Shy'le than is comfortable for me."
Rhion snorted softly, turning his gaze back to Damian and Mish-shy. "No doubt that was meant as a compliment," he said in a purposefully nasty tone.
Walker found himself ready to grin and suppressed the impulse fairly easily. "No doubt it was," he observed in a mild tone. Rhion shot him a suspicious look, and keeping a bland countenance became just a little harder. Oh, this boy was sharp!
And damnably attractive, as he stood there masking his concern for Damian and acting so sarcastically reasonable!
"He'll succeed in this, and one day soon he'll be the king of demons." It wasn't a question and yet it was more than a statement---it was prophesy, delivered from the mouth of an extraordinarily well-masked human. "He'll survive, even thrive here but he'll pay a high cost for it." The words were delivered in such a passive way that any other might have misconstrued the comment, believed that he was only meditating on Damian's future but Walker knew there was importance in the words.
Beneath Rhion's shell there was something greater than a human lifetime and it reeked of authority, of things greater than priests or prophets---or of angels and demons---it was the same thing that bubbled just under Damian's skin but in Rhion it was buried just a little bit deeper, somewhere just beyond the average senses. It was something only the gods could glimpse and creatures like Walker who existed between the worlds of the living and the dead.
For a split second the gravity of it spilled over Walker, and he knew without a doubt that Rhion and Damian were a matching set, that you couldn't have one without the other.
It was a strangely pleasing revelation, one filled with satisfaction. It wasn't often that Walker was surprised but when he was, it was usually a pleasant one and this time was no exception.
And as usual, the rare insight pushed something from within himself to the outward world. Before he even knew he would speak, he found himself saying almost coaxingly, "And you. It would not hurt you, to learn how to fight like a demon."
Rhion turned to stare at Walker in what looked like astonishment. Walker was fairly surprised at himself. A sought-after master of secret demonic battle techniques, impulsively offering to train a human! A good thing no other Shyle was nearby to laugh at him!
Yet his tongue kept wagging, almost on its own he thought with some irritation. "Come, you know your prince would prefer you not fret over his safety. And you'll be of more help to him with what I can teach you." He smiled a little hopefully. "Unless of course you're afraid at the thought?"
Rhion studied the graceful, formidable creature that towered over him. He suddenly grinned, and tossed back the long fringe of golden hair out of his eyes. Walker swallowed, feeling almost nervous suddenly at the pure, incandescent warmth that flooded his body at the simple movement.
Lust was nothing new for Deathwalker. He was still a demon, composed or not, and this boy was more than appealing. But also, he was chosen of the young god training downstairs and Walker damn well knew better than to want him! Even if Deathwalker hadn't observed Icewind's humiliation, he still would have realized this wave of desire for a god-chosen lover was suicidal at best. He had a good brain in his head, and usually, for Deathwalker knowing a thing was stupid curbed his demonic impulses instantly.
Usually, it worked. Walker was a very controlled and sensible demon.
"I think that sort of insult stopped working on me at the age of sixteen or so," the human chuckled. "But I've always responded to common sense! And yes---I need to understand how you people fight." He tossed his bright hair away from those lion's eyes again, and smiled at the demon like the very incarnation of autumn sunlight. "So let's go at it! I like learning new things."
Rhion then tilted his head, grin fading a trace, as the dark-haired demon stared at him with eyes gone eerily crystalline. "Um---what does this training involve, pray tell?"
The tall, handsome demon seemed to shake himself awake with an effort, and his eyes became less jewel-like and more human-seeming. Rhion noted the effect with interest, wondering what it meant precisely.
.
"Come," Deathwalker said crisply, almost snapping out the words. "We shall get weapons." He turned on his heel and stalked off without bothering to check if Rhion was following or not.
Rhion shrugged lightly and followed, not bothering to take offense at the bastard's abrupt rudeness after the previous easy courtesy. Nor did he wonder overmuch about the way Walker's hands clenched as he strode away quickly. Demons! Who could figure what they were thinking?
Except as it concerned De, Rhion had already decided not to bother.
TBC....
