The Storyteller (THE LEGENDS OF AARYAH #1)

TALE TWO OF THE REGRETFUL LEGIONARY - Let Death Have Them

Donovan, Grand Rector of the Fifth Division, tried to clear his mind from his thoughts as he saw a young Justice Guard approaching.

Since he had been named Grand Rector, he hadn't been able to have a single good night sleep. The labyrinth of the Competitions kept coming back just to bother him in his dreams. It was an everlasting presence, constantly creeping on him.

"Grand Rector." The Guard saluted him. Donovan recognized him as one of last year best graduates, an incredibly powerful High One in his mid-twenties. He could tell the young soldier would get somewhere in life just by looking at him.

The Half Demon had always been impressed by High Ones. They were the only Humans who were born with magical abilities. Some fesmejic  Humans could achieve such abilities too, if they were able to make a Blood Pact with a Demon.  If they got the proper training, which happened in the Army of Justice,  their powers could even match those of the Demons.

The words of the young soldier brought him back to reality. "The Giants have arrived, sir."

He nodded and sent him to Demonlord Benan. In fact, the rules imposed by the Djimanatá declared that the supreme authority of a Sultanate, its Demonlord, was always the superior one and to clarify that to their 'guests', it was them that had to wait for the Lord of the Capital to come, not the opposite, even if they didn't agree.

Soon after, when Sultan Haan Rines entered the Diplomacy Room accompanied by the two most influential Inquisitors in Jylan, the State Councilor and the Ambassador-Minister, whose names Donovan hadn't still learned, the half blood snapped to attention more out of duty than because he respected the authority of the Sultan of Jylan.

Haan Rines was a chubby, eight-hundred year old Half Demon, short for the standard height of the Race. He always looked suspicious, like he was constantly hiding something. His face and the way he smiled when he knew he would easily get whatever he wanted just because he was a Sultan, was as fishy as everything else about him, personality included.

"So, this is your first official act in favor of the Djimanatá as Grand Rector, Donovan," he said, calling him by his name in a very confidential manner.

He came closer and gave him one of his usual, mellifluous smiles. "I mean, we all know why the Giants came here today, don't we?"

Donovan gave him the friendliest nod he could fake.

"It's an honor, Lord Rines," he commented.

For his part, the Sultan gave him his I'm-a-hypocrite-but-I-don't-even-know-it look and told him: "Well, I'm glad, I'm glad. Of course I am... But where is your joy?! Where is your excitement?! I can't hear it!"

He shook his head. "That is what I want to see in my soldiers. Emotions! Emotions for the things we believe in! Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Grand General?"

I don't give a damn, the Half Demon immediately thought, but forced himself to an understanding smile. "Of course I do, my Lord."

He looked satisfied, even if he was probably more pleased to hear Donovan call him by his title than for his pretended agreement on the matter he had proposed himself.

That was him: he did what he was supposed to do according to the rules - promote the Djimanatá in Forest of Belín and support it in any possible way - just because he fancied the power that Sephrin had been giving him for that. After all, power was the only thing he had feelings for; to quote his speech about emotions.