The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty One pt 2

(CW: drowning)

"My wife was a short one like you, too. But maybe not as short as you," addressing Eial, Lahzo laughed again, but this time Drokn caught the distant look the woman flashed briefly. The woman chugged another half mug before she continued. "Y'know, I watched her die."

Drokn, Eial, and Vrona stared at the woman, her drunken smile swaying like thick water. K'ra stared deep at the bar counter. Stared, but was not truly looking.

"Did the king have something to do with it?" Vrona asked, looking straight into Lahzo's eyes, as if understanding, knowing, expecting.

"The king always has something to do with it!" Lahzo roared a laugh. The alcohol seeming to meet her system, she rocked gently side to side, grinning wide and then bubbling down, and then laughing again, hollow, as she started to relay her story.

~~~

A few years ago, an impoverished town lay right beside an old dam, protecting the town from rushing river waters. Age grew it cracks, each day the cracks stretching longer, crumbling wider. The town had requested, begged the king to reconstruct the dam, for they did not have the resources or money for it.

The king, of course, denied. Shaming the town for its poverty, as if the town did not matter if they could not fund their own protection.

And did nothing.

And as a consequence—

One day, the dam collapsed.

Lahzo was a tall and muscular demoness. In the sudden rush of water that occupied the town, she was able to stand her ground. Gripping the ground with her wide stance, grabbing onto a nearby tree as the rushing stream and debris bruised her back.

Her wife, however...

She was three quarters the height of Lahzo and had been coming home from picking up their ration of meal ingredients. Only a dozen feet away from home, the water crashed where she stood, the height of the stream as tall as her, lifting her off the ground and grabbing her along.

And lahzo saw it all. She had been waiting at the entrance of their home, ready to greet her. Instead, she greeted the wide, black eyes of terror, hands grasping at emptiness, screams muffled by the blubber of liquid piling on her tongue.

Lahzo tried. She took one step into the stream and knew it was pointless in the forceful water. So, she waited until the waters calmed. Helpless. Agony at every second passed. Until a dreadful time later, she searched for her wife in the heightened river, and screamed as she found her against a boulder, along all the others who swept by.

Far too hopeful, and far too late.

~~~

Lahzo recalled the story to her new companions, hiccuping as her face bathed further red. By this point, Lahzo had turned to the bar counter, placed her elbows on the surface and clawed her fingers around her thick horns, gripping tightly with all the emotion welling up in her. "Fuck!" she yelled and ordered another mug of beer. This time, the bartender gave it to her with no charge, causing her to cheer before washing away the tightness gnawing in her chest.

Behind them, another demon had overheard their conversation. Drunkenly, he'd staggered closer before explaining his own tale. Explaining that, in the same flood, his beloved daughter, who had been born after many attempts, had been swept away as well.

One by one other patrons gathered, explaining, crying, laughing their tragedies. An old palace guard who had lost their position after breaking his horn, no longer able to provide for their family. A demon whose townsfolk had grown sick from the polluted, toxic air from garbage and oil littered onto their homeland from the cities. Demons whose families had died, whose friends had died, whose souls, hope, happiness had died, served on the gold platter the king took his meals on.

Everyone laughed at their misfortune, cheered as new drinks poured. Discomposed with the festive atmosphere contrasting to their words of pain, Drokn felt heat build up inside of him, and with nails digging into his skin, he roared, "Why are you all laughing??"

Lahzo, with an arm around another patron, holding each other's unbalanced balance, tapping their mugs together before a large gulp, turned her unfocused eyes to Drokn and smirked. "It hurts too much t' cry." She laughed and burped and wobbled and drank some more.

Uncomfortable sensations filled his chest just as it had with K'ra. He felt... angry? There was tightness behind his eyes and his brows crimped tight. Rattled with the thought that, although the king had so much of the power Drokn envied, wanted, and idealized— what had that power accomplished? A shiny throne and the dominance to inflict fear and control. What was the use of that control if nothing was done with it except bring misery like it had brought Drokn?

With gritted teeth, Drokn grabbed his own drink mug that had been left untouched so far and drank the whole mug in one go. Coughing out some of the bitterness that painted his tongue, he slammed the empty mug on the bar counter. "I'll defeat the king!" he yelled. "And I'll show you all I'm a better king than that shitty bastard!"

With a toothy grin, Lahzo shouted, "That's the spirit we need!" and the tavern's patrons lifted their mugs and roared in cheer loud enough for the whole town to hear, too drunk to comprehend that Drokn had been serious and not just sputtering drunken nonsense.

Spirited by the grand support and thrilling new feel of camaraderie sparking Drokn's chest, his mind buzzed. Dismissing all his teachings of etiquette, he shoved back drink after drink that was handed to him, belching, wiping dripping beer off his lips with his forearm. He threw out promises and basked in their cheer.

When his vision blurred, he joined the rowdy patrons, having arms over their shoulders, letting their arms be over his. He was called the "life of the tavern" and his grin spread wider. His title, his status, his powers. Nothing seemed to matter. Feeling confident, feeling accepted, feeling so free.

Lahzo egged Eial to join his mate, but Eial politely shook his head and stayed away from the horde, on guard, but not as tense. Smiling proudly and shyly, he gazed at his gleeful demon enjoying the company.

Likewise, K'ra smiled, as well, watching Drokn amongst the crowd, knowing what they had hoped to accomplish by coming here was successful.

The bitter smell of beer mixed with the pungent sharpness of wine, and the lanterns danced along with the boisterous demons. In the bright, shimmering lights glistening against the dark black sky, the demons wasted the night away in their drunkenness, forgetting the pain and celebrating the idea of new hope.