Dark Fall (3rd Book)

Chapter 7: The God and His Mentor

"He has gone mad."

With that, the shadow lord sat back on a throne, holding his own head as if in pain. "The fool has drowned in insanity's deeps." His back itched, and he knew it was those blasted wings, as if they were screaming and squirming in complaint.

He hated it.

"What would you expect?" A woman, a unique demon of some kind, stood beside him, very casual as she leaned over and gestured in disbelief. "He's your slave, and he's witnessed enough for a man to become a weak little girl."

"I'd expect him to do his duties as I ordered him to," He told her in a loud voice, shaking his head as he turned his head towards her. "Have you found it yet?"

The woman frowned, shaking her head. "No. We've searched everywhere we could have gone. The elves held us back, and the dwarves had too much of an advantage, what with their damn Vren Muldir."

She scoffed, unsheathing two of her daggers. "This city's only held the portal's birth, but I could not find where the damn thing is."

"What did I tell you?" He asked, exasperated as with one hand, he blasted one demon guarding their great hall with but a small red burst, turning the red and black guard to a smoking pile of ash, with bones and blood mixed in as if a brewing concoction. "Kill them all. I don't care if they yield, just kill them. They're useless and great for feeding."

"Why don't you search the lands?" She challenged, perhaps the only one brave enough to do so. "Their powers are nothing against your own, and they'd fall before even trying to defend themselves."

Before he had a chance to retort, the woman continued,"Besides, would you really want to kill them? I had thought you had better plans for these mortals? Your personal pet can eat anything, this land's rich with resources!"

"Leaving the portal alone would have disastrous consequences, woman," He growled, narrowing his blackish eyes into small slits where even then, the torrent of evil intentions escaped. "I alone hold its power, and too much distance would destroy it."

"And they have been thorns on my side long enough!" He shouted, standing up and flaring his wings, a part of his body that should only belong to the ruler of the skies, a race of majestic, albeit destructive, beings.

The woman rolled her eyes, walking away as she now rested her back against the stone walls of this destroyed castle. "Has my training been for naught, boy?"

"Don't make me kill you, woman. I remember them quite clearly," He told her in a cold whisper, in tones so harsh and unforgiving that even the coldest reaches of this world pale in comparison to the mere sound.

The woman, however, laughed, waving his obvious threat away as she showed him her daggers, small blades that seem to hide more than show. "Want to spar again? To see who's the better killer, Merec?"

He drew his own weapon, this time different, a wicked looking blade that seemed to bend at some point, as if it was a sickle, a drawer of blood instead of a cutter of grass. He drew another one, a straight sword, black as his very soul, illuminated by an aura of red.

"Been too long since I fought with my own weapon." He examined it, drinking the runes emblazoned on the blade, runes he had done, empowering it beyond any normal steel, as is fitting for him, perhaps more so. "I remember my own slave not even knowing its true potential."

"You just gave it to him on a whim." The demon chuckled, shaking her head. "What did you think he'd do with it? You overestimate your slave's skill, student."

"Are we to spar or not, woman?"

"No name, Merec?" She asked, grinning at him, showing her full teeth, fangs jutting out for the world to see, dripping with blood to boot!