We call them demons, and for the most part, that term is fitting. They are demons, they are also more than that. Each demon is different from the other. Some only in so much as siblings would be different, but many are so different, one could not comprehend how the two creatures are related if not for their unnatural features.

—How Not to Adopt a Demon Pet

A long time spent crying, combined with the previous days of abuse left Maya feeling exhausted and sore when she finally managed to collect herself. The Raven King was patient and kind, even going so far as patting her back while she cried all over him. What was she thinking? Her face burned and not just from salty tears stinging raw cheeks.

Maya now hid said burning face in the shoulder she had been crying into moments prior. To think that after all that had happened she could still get embarrassed. She shivered slightly as a light break raised goose flesh on her back and arms then froze. The cold air had met with her skin directly. She was naked.

Why was she naked?

The feathered man wasn’t quite so comforting anymore. Rather, she was feeling increasingly awkward. He was also nude, except he also had a natural sort of clothing from his feathers smoothly lining his skin. Oh my.

Without thinking, Maya took a hurried step back and managed to hide behind a curtain of hair. It was much longer than she remembered it being, also somehow darker than its previous black—where once it was glossy, now it swallowed light. Something to consider later; Maya was simply glad it managed to cover herself and there were stranger things she was already ignoring.

It was good she managed to stay standing in her panic, it would not do to cower before one who had only just bowed before her. Maya may have been a simple “peasant” but she could figure that much out. She straightened her spine and stood tall from where she’d hunched in on herself. No, she would not cower before an ally over something as silly as nudity.

Her face heated up and she missed the shawl she would normally hide in.

Now she hid in strange, void-black, hair trying to stand tall before a monster. This monster who had submitted to her—the “Demon Lord”. Maya was the true monster, if only in human eyes. Wonderfull.

She needed to stop thinking like a human. Clearly blending in with them was doomed to failure.

“It’s been a trying few days for you.” Stated The Raven King, “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” And she did feel better. Her mind was clearer and the room felt less hollow. The aura death and stillness had receded, returning to it home in human crypts and warrens dug in the deadlands.

The life of the Wildlands was thick in the air. It was a new sensation, but Maya had never felt more at home than she did while breathing it in and feeling it dance against her skin.

Being naked wasn’t so bad. The shock and embarrassment weren’t fun, but she wasn’t human and didn’t need to conform to human customs—The Raven King certainly wasn’t. The few rags still stuck to her body itched and Maya peeled the dirty things off.

“I feel much better,” She smiled and only felt a little out of place, “Is there something I can call you? "The Raven King" is a bit of a mouthful.”

“I am The Raven King, what else would I be called?”

“By a name.”

He laughed and broke into a broad grin, “I am older than names and am in no need of yet another label to be identified by.”

“Doesn’t change that “The Raven King” is a mouthful and calling you “Nightmare” seems rude.”

“Then call me Je’Hiantl. It’s an old epithet, from a dead tongue, I once took a liking to.”

“Je’Hiantl? I can bearly pronounce it,” Maya complained.

“Too bad, you asked for a name and I gave you one.” Je’hiantl winked, turned around, and returned to his perch on his throne. Somehow, in the tangle of harsh metal spines, an alcove of plush cushions made a cozy place to rest. “Come,” He patted the space beside him, “We have much to discuss and dawn approaches.”

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*****

The Hollow once bathed in a wash of blue now basked in golden light. Songbirds serenaded above and a squirl had laid down an offering of acorns a foot from the golden nest’s base. Morning had come to the World Tree but Maya pondered on how it was now noon at The Wall.

Four hours of time was travelled in a moment through the void. Now four hours had passed in which her Horde was left without her, stranded behind the Wall, just out of reach of freedom. Her Kin was surrounded by the enemy and she was secure in the hollow of Kamna’ah, leagues above the dangers of Vos below.

Maya had abandoned Kin—The Demon Lord had formed a Horde and cut it loose.

Dea’Ammat had done her duty; so said her vassal.

Horrible word; vassal, yet that was how Je’Hiantl referred to himself. He said all spirits of any sense were subservient to Dea’Ammat and that the position of Vassal was a great honour. He also said that humans had a way of butchering language and desecrating sacred roles...

“They make a mockery of a Lords and Lady’s and do not possess the ability to be called “King”, yet the fools prance around and demand fealty of their subjects.” Je’Hiantl complained, “and they have the audacity to call us “evil”. “Unnatural” even! They’re the unnatural ones––can’t even stand to rest on Vos’s living flesh.”

“Their vermin,” Maya said darkly.

“Silly little things, I’ll grant you that,” and he smiled as if at a joke only he could comprehend and expressed a warry sigh, “Running around like their heads chopped off and dying just as quickly––you could almost call them pitiful.”

“They don’t deserve pity.”

“Is that right?” He raised a feathered brow.

“Give it and you would be dead in a heartbeat.”

“Maya dear, we will all die one day, but I can assure you; I will be one of the last.”

“Is that right?” She challenged

“It is.”

Maya hoped he was telling the truth, but didn’t hold her breath. Everyone died, even immortal monsters; she didn’t doubt that the infamous Nightmare would be any different. She was weak and incapable of protecting her kin. Unworthy of leading the Horde. She knew this to be true, yet a thousand hearts spoke otherwise.

Feeling them came naturally over the course of their conversation. Small feelings in the back of her mind at first, then gradually becoming a web of emotions leading to a multitude of souls. Now she could feel Je’Hiantl stretching his wings above. He’d said it was his duty to greet the sun in this way and when Maya began to doubt him, a stray thought from a foreign mind told her otherwise.

Tracing a strand of the ethereal silk brought whispers of the ancient king’s thoughts. He was brooding. The jovial attitude he displayed was not a lie, rather, a means to make her comfortable and for him to maintain some form of sanity. She’d never been this good at understanding other’\s before and didn’t see how becoming the Demon Lord could change that.

“Dea’Ammat,” Maya startled at the voice coming out of nowhere.

“What?” Maya searched the chamber but found nothing save for a tingle on the back of her neck.

“You are Dea’Ammat, not this “Lemon Lord”. Did my Lord explain nothing to you?” Speaking to Maya was a stone bird, small and almost perfectly blending in with the dark wood around it. It spoke without inflection yet She was almost certain she’d felt the bird scoff. She had little basis for it, but she new "my Lord" was Je"Hiantl.

“What are you?”

“Corva, Dea’Ammat,” the bird dipped into a small bow.

“Stop that! My name is Maya.”

“You are Dea’Ammat. It is your purpose, your being, your will. Dea’Ammat is no mere name or title; it is you, just as I am Corva.”

“I like my name, it’s Maya.”

“But did not Maya die in Cairn?”

Maya wet her lips and opened her mouth to speak, but held back as her voice caught.

“You felt it––we all felt it––Dea’Ammat was born in the depths of darkness and emerged with the first true horde in decades. The course is clear. Humans and “demons” have failed to coexist time and time again, just as they have failed to live separately. One must go.”

“And debts must be paid.” Maya managed.

“Too true.” Corva smiled; the web smiled; demons bared their teeth.

“But my name is still Maya, and I don’t know how I feel about this whole Dea’Ammat business.” Corva was skeptical. “Ok, I know how I feel––I know how you feel––but I don't know how I feel these things or if I can trust them.”

“My Lord surely explained it to Dea’Ammat”

“Your Lord Je’Hiantl? Crazy how I know who you're talking about, just like that!” Maya snapped. Actually snapped, with her fingers, “And that! I’ve never been able to snap before now.”

“Why does this distress you so? I felt you take the mantle and lead the charge. You accepted our purpose.”

Corva was concerned, no, frightful. Things were getting out of hand and she didn’t know why. Things were supposed to go differently, Dea’Ammat was acting strangely.

Ferries paused in their hunt unease swelling in their chest a sense of wrongness permeated their being. Liarus missed a step and allowed her prey to get away, overwrought with pain and confusion from a source she didn't expect. Killi let out a wail calling his mommy to his cradle.

Maya clutched her head as a thousand thoughts, feelings, and desires made themselves known and threatened to drown out her own. She was afraid. They were afraid.