I’ve been training for a couple of days now, Sephor teaching me a new technique with the sword. Or at least trying to. His movements are incredibly fast, peering those of the master warriors I’ve met over the years at home. It's incredible, the amount of training I’ve seen the guards do here; It makes me wonder why the war lasted for so long. 

I’ve only heard tales of how it started, most official documents kept hidden away, lost, or destroyed in various events that transpired over the past century or so. Father had told me some tales of the war when I was younger. I can remember how he spoke of the bombardment of Nimur over thirty years ago, when the sky turned gray and black and fireballs rained from the sky for days, devastating the castle walls, the fields surrounding it, killing hundreds of people. He remembered it as one of the deadliest battles in the war, but it could've been considered a slaughter more likely, since he told me the Demons mostly retreated beforehand. 

I imagined it many times, a rain of fire hurling over the castle, bringing death and desolation upon our people. It made me burn up both with hate for the monsters that could do something so vile, yet also with fear of the beings that could so effortlessly perform something so grand. Fear, hatred, reverence, a swirl of emotions fills me when I imagine what I had been told about the war.

Yet these emotions are rarely present when I look at the Demons around me. They train, they work, they tell stories and jokes, they behave like people, no different from what I’ve seen in the Palace. Sephor looks so unnatural to me, his blue gaze almost chilling, but he doesn't instill fear, rage, or disdain. I don't really think anything different of him than I did of my old training instructors back home. His skill is admirable, his methods, although maybe harsh, are good on me, allowing me to tire myself through and through. He possesses that same commanding presence my old instructor had, the memory of me shaking in my boots on the sound if his voice resurfacing in my mind for a brief moment.

I look around the training grounds during the brief rest I'm allowed, Sephor trying to manage little time I have as efficiently as possible. The Demon men around me look different from one another, whether it's their skin, their feet, or their horns, they all have differences between them. I’ve noticed they sometimes sneak a peek at me when they think I wouldn't notice, a slightly curious gaze on their eyes.

“Sephor.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Why does everyone seem to be staring at me?” I try my best to converse in Dral, I’ve been trying to get better at it by the day, and the basics of the language don’t seem so hard after I’ve passed the basics. The words are incredibly difficult, adding letters to a base word adds to the meaning, a single word of Dral can be translated as several in Lyndarian.

I’ve already learned some basic words, but this would be my first try at speaking with someone who doesn’t understand Lyndarian, thus I guess it could be counted as a test of my progress. It is exciting in its own right, the prospect of learning a new language. Sudden pride fills me at the thoughts of being able to converse without using the necklace. Maybe Cerolus would like me better if I learned the language properly. But how does he feel towards me now? What are his current thoughts of me? Does he think of me as much as I do of him? I can’t deny that even like this, I keep thinking about him. It feels… weird, and natural at the same time? But why natural? Is it because we’re married? Is it something that I dreamed about when I was younger, having someone to think about all day, having someone by my side? Heat flushes my body in waves as thought linger, before I steel myself again. It is time for training, it is not the time to think about Cerolus now.

Sephor looks around the training grounds, many of the people here trying their best to look away and make themselves busy all of the sudden. A flurry shows on his face, the contortions of his brows and mouth leaving me unable to tell what he is thinking; the emotions appear swirling around, him seeming unsure of what to answer with.

“Well…” he starts meekly, as if expecting punishment for his words that I haven’t even heard yet.

“Just say it.” Ooh, I like being the commanding one for a change. I had my ladies while at home at my beck and call, but this is entirely different; they were more similar to friends than subjects; here I have a Demon man that looks to be incredibly experienced and strong cowering at my sight. Or is it because of Cerolus? Yes, I’m pretty sure it’s because of Cerolus, everybody must fear him, he is the Lord of the house, and he is my husband. Is Sephor afraid of insulting me? Does he expect me to call for my husband to ‘defend my honor’ should I be insulted?

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“Well, Mistress, it’s unusual to see a woman training in combat. It’s even rarer to see a Human. The War has ended only several months ago, some of these people have been in it, for others this is the first time they saw a Human woman. It’ll take some time for people to adjust, Mistress, especially having you as the Lord’s wife. You are safe, of course, nobody would think badly of you or try to harm you. It’s only but a mere curiosity. They are at your command as well, the Mistress has the power of command in the Master’s absence.”

I can command the castle garrisons? I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. I hope it never comes to that, or at least it doesn’t come until a lot later in my life.

“How long have you been here Sephor?”

“I’ve served Master Cerolus for about twenty years now, but I was in the war as well during that time, as well as before; Master had to give some of the garrisons to the army, as was required of everyone during the war. He fought in the war himself, or so do the stories say, but later just kept mostly for himself. I myself don’t know much about Master at that time, but he had always treated me well.”

“How old are you anyway? You don’t look like you served for that long, you don’t look older than my father.”

“You flatter me, Mistress. I’ll have turned seventy by the end of this year.”

“Seventy!? My father has celebrated his fiftieth birthday this year! How are you so old!?”

“What do you mean, Mistress? The people of my race, Leatherskins, live for about a hundred years. It is normal for us to reach nineties easily.”

A hundred years? That’s so long. It is insurmountable compared to us? What is the secret? Is it the presence of magic in the lands and the food? Does it help one live longer? Could I age slowly and stay young while by my husband’s side?

“Wait, you’re saying you’ve served my husband for at least twenty years, and that he fought in the war even before that? Just how old is he?”

“That is not for me to say, Mistress. Only the oldest of the Demons know how old exactly Master is, and he rarely says it himself. The only thing I know is that he is indeed old.”

Should I ask Cerolus himself? Will he answer me? Will he let me now his past, will he let me know who he really is? How much will I get to know Lord Cerolus Kreshorok?

The desire to learn more about my husband is filling me with joy and anxiety. I do wonder what will become of me, what will become of us, should I learn to know more about him. It’s perplexing, I feel that knowing his secrets would bring us together. Do I want that? Do I want to get close to him? Should I do that?

“Let’s continue Sephor, it’s already getting late, and I think I’ve had enough rest.”

“As you wish Mistress.”

We rise up and stand in the middle of the training grounds. I take my stance, the wooden sword firmly in my right hand. I watch Sephor as he stands his ground, waiting for our spar to begin.

“Begin.”

We charge forward, the wooden swords clashing, small splinters flying off them, metal armor resonating at our sudden halt of movement, as we begin our training spar.

----------------------------------------

“Master, this letter came in by a quickwern.”

A quickwern? They almost never use them to relay messages, there could be only a couple of options, and I’m not certain I like any of them now. We will definitely have to go to the Capital, and I’m not sure Sophia is ready yet.

Kozzok hands me the parchment with ink on it. The Supreme Seal is on it. Damn it.

Lord Cerolus Kreshorok,

The Royal Family of Kreshorok hereby announces the birth of the fourth Demonprince of Dralarag. 

Your presence is required for the bestowal ceremony that is to be held at the Royal House in five days time.

We await for your timely answer and are eager to have the entire Family in one place again.

From Ashes We Rise To The Fire Above,

Royal Kreshorok Family of Dralarag

Herod got another child? Well at least the news are good.

On the other hand, this could become complicated.

"Start preparing; we ride to the Capital tomorrow."

Kozzok bows and leaves me alone in my office.

Well then, time for my wife to meet my family I guess.

End of Arc 2: A Human and a Demon