Demon of the Skies [Book 1]

The Final Overture

Chapter Quote:

"Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden."

~Phaedrus
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Chapter 17: The Final Overture

Jason

I woke up at the crack of dawn despite having gone to bed at two in the morning. I'd be taking a nap later; that was for sure. I rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen, planning on making a pot of coffee but found my nephew had already beaten me to it. He sat at the bar, staring mindlessly at his computer. All I could see on the screen was a blank word document.

"What are you up to?" I asked, pouring myself a cup of coffee. I took a sip, then realized Genette had found my secret stash of chicory coffee, only used for situations where I desperately needed energy. How he discovered it, I had no idea. But I guess I wasn't the only one in need of a pick-me-up.

"Finally decided to start working on my summer assignment. The problem is I have no idea what the hell I'm going to write. If I want to go into journalism and have my articles focus on the military and war, then I need to write something that will blow their minds. I need to stand out. Originally, I was going to write about the Demon Lord, but now, knowing it's you, I'd feel weird writing about it. Not to mention, I know the full story, and I'm afraid I'd slip up and say something I shouldn't," Genette vented, taking a deep breath when he finished. He banged his head on his laptop. "I need this coffee to work, and I need it to work now. I don't have time for this lethargy."

"What if you write about the Demon Lord, I read it over, and if I see anything that seems like it's too close to sounding like you talked to the Demon Lord himself, I'll point it out to you?" I suggested.

My nephew lifted his head. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. I want to help you ace this paper and get the journalism position you want. What do you say?"

"You don't even need to ask that!" he exclaimed. "Thank you!"

"Any time, Genette."

A revelation suddenly seemed to dawn on him as he narrowed his eyes at me and said, "You don't have any summer assignment deadlines waking you up in the god awful hours of the morning. Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep. Maybe my spidey-senses were telling me my nephew needed help," I replied with a shrug. Genette started to respond, but Elizabeth shuffled into the room, appearing like she wanted to murder someone or something. Probably us since we, more likely than not, woke her up.

"I'll get your coffee," I offered, pushing myself away from the counter and grabbing the pot. Elizabeth just nodded. It surprised me that she hadn't declared her murderous tendencies, but, then again, she would rather do something than say it in the morning. If Elizabeth genuinely did want to kill us, she would've done it already. However, I figured I should still move this conversation away from the kitchen and, more importantly, the knives, just in case she changed her mind.