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Content Misery

  With Asmoday and Eurynome gone to hunt, Merihim and Cresil met Keshiema at the small clearing. "I thought you might be more comfortable with our training if Cresil accompanied us," Merihim explained.

  Keshiema frowned, glaring at Merihim with renewed anger. "We need to talk, actually," She took no time before laying her concerns bare, "You manipulated my entire life at the academy. Gave me a secret body guard I never knew about. Set up a friendship I never would have found on my own, then attempted to rip him away. Then you made a promise you failed to keep, and nearly got my friend killed."

  The prince waited patiently for her rant to finish, while Cresil winced, knowing his ruthless indifference to anyone who offended him. "You're right," Merihim admitted. "I did not act in your best interest. I saw you not as a person with a life and emotions, but more as an object that needed safekeeping. Until I met you, you were barely more than a pawn on the board. I acted heartlessly, and apologize for my callous behavior." His response nearly left her speechless.

  She stole a brief glance at her best friend, who seemed surprised by his commander's response. "I accept your apology, but if you fuck with my life like that again," her eyes took on the ethereal glow of her Primordial forefathers, "I'll make you regret it." The aura flickered out, and she grabbed her aching head. "Shit," she winced, "I don't know what that was, but I'm sorry."

  "Hm," Merihim reached for her, but paused, "May I?" She nodded, giving him the go-ahead. Placing his hand on her forehead, he searched for any possible maladies. "You've had migraines your entire life." Cresil confirmed for her. "It appears to be a side effect of the glamour spell placed on you. That should have broken when you awakened." He removed his hand, "Perhaps it's what's causing your instability. I've removed it for you, so you should know soon enough."

  "Thank you, Merihim." Not only did he ease her headache, but with his apology, her heart was lighter. "I appreciate your help."

  "Shall we train?" He held up a small amount of wispy white aura. Together, she and Cresil inhaled the shimmering essence and, hand-in-hand, fell into the dark abyss forming beneath them.

  One Month Later

  The Elysian Fields always evoked a sense of trepidation for Asmoday. To walk among a vast expanse of poison elicited a frightening level of anxiety. He stepped with undue caution, a habit formed through millennia of conditioning; Here, the grain could do no harm. It was only in Vitera that the plant became toxic to those with enough demonic heritage. Even then, the effect could stay dormant for a mostly-human individual for the span of their life. Shuddering, Asmoday did his best to push aside memories of fallen comrades who fell victim to the effects.

  "Would it not be best for you to explain the way this realm works?" Eurynome whined, tired of needing an escort to hunt. "I could come and go as needed if I understood how."

  "It would take too long for that, Eury. And I think Phoradendron made it plenty clear not to allow you to roam freely." They exited Elysium into a dark mountain forest, completely cutting their conversation. Asmoday gestured for Eurynome to proceed with his hunt.

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  With a low growl, Eurynome pushed past Asmoday. Sniffing the damp forest air, he searched for prey. Catching the scent of nearby demons, he salivated. Most likely, they were Adramelech's men, searching the forests for Keshiema and her allies; a perfect, guilt-free meal.

  Creeping through the dense trees, Eurynome slowly approached the demons, with Asmoday hanging back to let him hunt in peace. A subtle breeze rustled the leaves, bringing with it a familiar scent that the Serpent immediately recognized. As Eurynome pounced, claws outstretched, Asmoday tackled the Reaper-Daemon, pinning him to the ground with strength out-matching the strongest anaconda.

  Snarling, Eurynome struggled, lying at the feet of his would-be prey, his mouth watering from the promise of food left unfulfilled. "My apologies, Marthim." Asmoday hissed, fighting to keep Eurynome under control. "Eurynome took you for a quick meal."

  "I see," Marthim stared awkwardly at the two princes, unsure what else to say.

  "I'm calm, now get off me!" Eurynome demanded.

  Letting Eurynome stand, Asmoday dusted himself off. "Go find an animal to eat!" he snapped. "Meet back here when you're done." When Eurynome disappeared from sight, he let out a relieved sigh. "Are the trackers with you?" He asked Marthim. In the company of another Serpent-Daemon, Asmoday did nothing to hide his inflection.

  "Yes, they're near. I've been looking for a friend from the Academy."

  "You mean Keshiema, or Azazel?" Asmoday asked, knowing the history between the three was rife with tension. Marthim seemed confused by the question, so Asmoday elaborated, "As the son of my Second, there was not a move you made I did not know about, including the night you betrayed Kesh with Pan's youngest daughter."

  "Seems like everyone but me knows what happened that night." Marthim shook his head. "I couldn't care less about Azazel, that bitch drugged me to hurt Kesh."

  "What do you want with Keshiema now?"

  "I know the king is after her. I don't know the specifics of the prophecy, but there has to be something I can do, I want to protect her."

  "And if she's already chosen someone new?" Asmoday's words landed heavily on Marthim's heart.

  "Has that Impure claimed her heart?" It was the obvious answer. Cresil had long guarded Keshiema with a fierce loyalty. From the day she came of age, everyone assumed they would end up together eventually.

  Asmoday scowled in disgust. "He cares for her, but not in that sense; he practically raised her! If Cresil or Merihim ever hear you utter those thoughts, you'd best pray for a painless end."

  "I apologize, my lord, it was a running rumor among most of the students." he had also been extremely jealous of Cresil and the constant attention he received from Keshiema, but thought better than to mention it.

  It was a poor excuse, and Asmoday thought Bathin should have taught his son better. "While it is good to keep your ears attuned to the words of others, you would be wise in learning how to think for yourself."

  "I understand, my prince. And to answer your question, I still wish to protect Keshiema. I may have lost my chance with her, but she is still where my heart lies."

  "Yes, a serpent's heart does not shed so easily as his skin." Asmoday closed his eyes, seeing the silhouette of a woman he dared not imagine further. "Keshiema is safe, I can promise you that. And she could have no fiercer a protector than the one she has chosen. The best you can do for her now is keep your trackers out of Adramelech's hands."

  "Yes, sir, we will move wisely and avoid the king's forces. Is there anything you might ask of us?"

  Asmoday thought for a moment, "Find Lilith. I would like you to help her locate the three rebellion leaders."

  "Yes, sir." Marthim saluted before quickly retreating.

  The scent of fresh spilled blood filled the air. "A deer, thank Fate he found that." Asmoday sighed as he lay down at the base of a large fir tree. Speaking about matters of the heart had him lost and out of sorts.

  Remembering her warmth, the taste of her skin, the soft scent of her hair, he groaned. "Eve picked Adam," he scolded himself. 'She took me in when I could not walk, cared for me until the punishment ran it's course,' he thought. 'She never loved me, only pitied me.'

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