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Chapter 4 - A name is important...

Chapter 4 - A name is important...

  “I-I did manage to cast t-the spell b-but it detected no one. J-just you. And me.” She'd said before her little … episode.

   After a while I nod, acknowledging her news, still holding her against me. She seems to be slowly regaining control of herself; her shivering has nearly completely stopped. This situation is odd. I have lived among demons my entire life. Admittedly recently I haven't paid them much attention but I can only see this reaction as abnormal. Demons are not particularly emotional creatures, even succubi are generally accepted to be just pretending, and demons are creatures that pride strength – whether physical or magical or even emotional. Put plainly demons are not creatures that give a damn about each other and I'm fairly certain most of the ones I've known wouldn't give a damn if every other demon on the continent dropped dead. The thought of a demon weeping over fallen comrades is absurd. So what is wrong with this child?

   “I expected as much. Does it disturb you?” I ask.

   Now she manages to pull herself together and pull herself away from me, so we are just sitting on the smooth expanse of stone surrounding the sarcophagus and staring at each other. Her eyes are slightly teary but she looks otherwise presentable as she opens her mouth to respond.

   “D-disturb me, Goddess? May I ask what you mean?” Her head tilts cutely as she asks her question – truly a succubus to the core – her every movement unconsciously calculated to maximize her adorableness. Her face painting a picture of perfect doe-eyed confusion. Adorableness aside it seems we have a failure to communicate. Even though I'm going out of my way to speak her annoying servant-language. Should I try to muddle through a conversation with her and find out what was wrong? Eh, why bother? She seems fine now. Thinking so I stand up.

   “Nothing. Come, let us leave this dreary place, I have no further business in a crypt.” I speak slightly imperiously, easily falling back into my role as a Demon Lord. Then I begin to stride away retracing my steps back to the surface. I hear the succubus gasp and scramble to follow me but she makes no further sound. The two of us walk in this way for quite a while, the only sounds our feet on the stone floor and the succubus' slightly labored breathing. Apparently still somewhat winded from her spell.

   Not that that's surprising considering the frankly amateurish spellcasting she displayed. She spoke the Words and managed to convey her meaning. But the grammar was atrocious, as if she didn't even know how to speak in the first place. Because of the stilted language her mental image was undoubtedly lacking in clarity – sloppy language is a sign of sloppy thinking after all. She simply relied on brute forcing the spell into existence by leveraging a massive quantity of mana – no wonder she was left exhausted by the effort; and even wounded by channeling more than her body could safely handle. I sort of want to scold her a bit. She is one of my “chosen” after all. But correcting her sloppy casting sounds like work and well…

   As I internally debate I'm still leading us through this winding and maze-like crypt complex. It's almost twenty minutes later I notice that I actually have no idea where I'm going. This realization hits me as I hit a wall. Physically. While distracted by my musings over the annoying succubus I walk into a wall! Ridiculous. My nose even hurts a bit, though my body should clearly be strengthened beyond such petty grievances. Why am I navigating a stupid maze? Why am I not sleeping on my throne? Silently I lament. A spell lead me down here in the first place! I never leave my throne, why would a be able to solve some stupid underground maze? I think about casting another spell to escape.

   But then I remember.

   She's behind me.

   I don't turn. But I focus my senses to confirm. Yep. The succubus has been following me this whole time. I can hear her breathing back there. Of course she would follow me. Oh well. Dignity? What's that? I think I saw it in a dream once.

   “Servant.”

   “Y-yes, Goddess?”

   “Lead me back to the castle.”

   “The …castle?”

   I round on her and level a glare at her. Is she mocking me? “Lead me out of this crypt. Clear?”

   Her normally pink skin pales until it's almost white. “Yes Goddess. I understand. Please come this way.” She turns away and takes half a step before tripping and falling down. She heavily drops to one knee not facing me. And I start to feel … annoyed. Is she really mocking me? Is this some sort of one woman rebellion? Ah, she's getting back up. And now she's just walking on like nothing happened. She just oozes nervousness though, she's even trembling a bit – it's obvious because of her wings. My servant is a truly mysterious one.

   Like most little emotional fluctuations my annoyance disappears almost immediately. Especially since the succubus seems to have resolved to do her job properly now – skillfully navigating us out of the crypt. How does she know where to go? There doesn't seem to be any landmarks or guideposts. Unless you count the graves themselves, I suppose, but who could possibly navigate with only that? I can barely remember alive people, much less the lingering reminders of the dead ones.

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 …Actually if we're being fair I could probably name more dead than alive people.

   Sigh … I've made myself depressed. Even the succubus seems depressed, her wings are drooping and she's cowering a bit. So cute. Watching her back like this, she's like a small animal, all jitters and nerves. Sometimes there's a gap in the stone and she'll step into it, lose her footing, and then catch herself with a quick flutter of her bat-like wings. Or sometimes rather than just walking through it – she'll reach out a hand and blast away a spiderweb with a tiny gust of wind magic, lip curled in revulsion the whole time. Just walking behind her is entertaining, I'd forgotten how interesting other people are. Its been a long while since I took the time to just observe someone else.

   I was continuing my intense observation, especially around her hips which swayed to and fro in an alarmingly alluring fashion, just enjoying the novelty of it of course! When that perfect heart shape stopped and her whole body snapped to attention. It seems she intends to go no further. Regretfully I tear my eyes from the succubus and examine our surroundings. And lo! We're free of the crypt! Back in the castle proper. Ahh it's good to be back. Almost back to my throne even. Actually can I just be done now? I woke up the servant. She should know what to do right? I look over at her, hopeful, to see if the impending end-of-the-world is weighing down on her in some visible fashion. Maybe there will be a fierce gleam in her eyes, ready to sally forth and right wrongs?! Sadly not. She's just standing there like a statue. A statue with very alluring hips but…

  No that's not what's important right now. I guess we should get this started. But first, my servant needs a name. Servant is too long and also it applies to too many people. I need something that will differentiate this one from all the others which will surely follow. But what's a good name? Hips? Too on the nose. Wings? Too general. Hmmmmmmm…

   “Pink, do you know why I have summoned you?” I ask her, simultaneously bestowing upon her a glorious name. Actually maybe she already had a name? I could have asked her. Oh well. This new one is certainly better.

   “P-Pink? Do you mean me Goddess-” I've been thinking it but – doesn't she stutter and stammer too much? What's the deal with that? Or is that just how you pronounce things properly in this language? I really don't think so though.

   “Yes. I have bestowed upon you a name! Let it lead you to … glory or something.” Saying so I once again push my finger to her forehead and confer another blessing, in a very rough approximation of a Naming ceremony. I sort of lost steam at the end so it's not a great blessing – but it's good enough for now. She's going to need every scrap of power she can get after all. It's important for a servant to have a Name, if you have serious expectations.

  “I see. My thanks for your blessings Goddess. I am afraid I am woefully ignorant. I do not know why I have been summoned; but I will strive to meet your expectations!” She declares while looking at me with fervor.

   Geh. Now she's all enthusiastic. It's cute how her wings flare when she get serious … No that's not what I need to be focusing on. Also. Now she clearly expects me to explain why I summoned her. I was really hoping her response would be more like “Yes, I know exactly why I was summoned and I even fixed it!” but I guess I should save the dreams for when I'm asleep. I feel the silence stretching out awkwardly between us, she clearly expects me to enlighten her as to my 'expectations' but putting all of this into words… I even gave you a blessing Pink, haven't I done enough? Anyway let's buy some time.

   “Follow me.” I command. Striding past her – and toward the exit of my castle. The castle is big so it will take a while – plenty of time to explain things a bit. So we walk together in silence, Pink seems surprised by the new power conferred by my blessing, by being Named, her capacity for mana increased dramatically apparently and she thanks me quite profusely when she realizes it. I ignore that of course, I'm formulating an explanation – I have no time for social niceties right now.

   I stop at the grand doors that connect one of the great halls of the cathedral to the outside world. The doors are easily twenty feet high. Carved from obsidian and reinforced with all manner of magics that they might never fall. Ironic then that they are askew on their massive hinges – having suffered some devastating magical blast, the resulting gap leaving enough room for a person to pass through. And pass through we do, Alexandria and Pink, outside of my home for the first time in who knows how long. The view that greets us is desolate. The demon continent Artas has always been a dark and foreboding place, constantly blanketed by a haze of volcanic ash and covered in all manner of monstrous creatures. So the endless gray plain that stretches out before us is pretty much exactly what I expected to see. Far in the distance I can make out mountains and volcanoes, one is even currently erupting – belching flame into the distant sky. Also, at the bottom of the great steps leading away from the castle, there is an ugly little tower.

   It doesn't look to be a part of my castle. My castle is all black and brooding Gothic architecture with spires topped by snarling stone gargoyles and lots of extraneous spikes. In contrast the building below is a simple structure. All smooth and even blocks of white stone stacked up into a compact and formidable looking little tower. Doesn't look demonic at all, reminds me of something a dwarf would make really. Interesting. But more importantly…

   I've been thinking this whole time. Trying to come up with an explanation of what needs to be done. What I need Pink to do. Putting what's wrong into words. My thoughts have been going in circles worrying over it. It's too hard. No matter how much I struggle I can't seem to find a way to tell her what she needs to know without also exhausting myself. I mean. You want me to talk? To explain? Me? I can't even remember the last time I had a proper conversation. Unless we count dreams.

   That's it! I can talk just fine if it's a dream! So. I just need to pretend. Pretend I'm still asleep and this is a dream. It's a perfect solution to many problems. For instance I won't get tired if I'm dreaming, so I should be able to properly focus. I've been worrying about that after all – that I might just fall asleep again and wake up when it's all over. But to think I was such a genius. I might even be able to recapture a bit of that spark that used to drive me so hard and so far when I was a child. Putting it into practice immediately, I imagined myself as I was in one of my oldest dreams, one of my nearest and dearest, when I was a Demon Lord leading my legions across the face of Artas on a path of conquest and slaughter.

  “The world is ending Pink. Can you feel it?” I decide start simple.