In a world that has always made me feel too big, he’s made me feel small. Fragile.
And it’s as unsettling as the stillness in the air.
Instead of saying a word, Kaius walks to his chair, heavily sits down, and waits for me with his fingers pressed together in front of his face as if deep in contemplation.
I move to a more open spot in the room, between the end of the bed and the door, and feel the imprint on my wrist.
“How does it work?” I ask quietly.
“You have to let the magic flow through you. Don’t try to control it. Be…harmonious with it, and it will bend to your will.”
“Bend to my will?” I repeat. “You just told me not to control it.”
“Yes, well if it’s as stubborn as you, perhaps it won’t work at all.” He gives me a condescending sneer. “I think I’d like that better. If it left you in the cold and the dark as I have.”
Annoyance races through me and I glare at him before focusing on the mark again. I think first of what I want to dance to. Something light and airy doesn’t seem like something he’d enjoy watching. Maybe something darker and melancholy like this palace would be a better fit.
I close my eyes and concentrate–but not too hard–on conjuring a piano. I take a deep breath and imagine it. Black stained wood, pristine white keys, a soft bench to match.
I gasp when a tune plays from behind me and turn around to find a piano has appeared in the corner of my room, and the keys play a haunting tune of their own volition. Like a ghost is performing just for me.
Triumphant, I turn around and cross my arms at Kaius, who’s sitting with an amused expression on his face. Dare I say it–he’s smiling. That smile disappears as quickly as it came, and I find myself missing it. He’s very…human when he smiles. It's comforting and warm in a way he isn’t.
I turn my back to ground myself before I begin dancing. My movements are slow, delicate, and technically precise.
Whenever I improvise a dance, I always bring myself to a setting. Tell a story. Play a part. I decide that the tune the piano is playing tells the story of someone who feels isolated and lonely in the world. In a way, I can relate.
My facial expressions turn sorrowful and lamenting. My arms reach for a salvation that isn’t there. I imagine I’m in a field of flowers that wilt with each step I take, my pain stealing their life essence. I make them decay as I feel I have.
When I finish my final turn and melt into my end pose, I finally focus on the room around me. Kaius is staring at my feet in what I can only describe as awe. Fascination. Maybe even pride. When I look down to see what he’s staring at so intently, my own mouth falls open.
Decaying flowers have sprouted under my feet from the lifeless marble floor.
Kaius stands slowly, sauntering towards me with his icy grace.
“I’m sorry!” I say frantically, seeing the displeasure in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to–”
He interrupts me with a gentle touch of the knuckle on his forefinger, tilting my chin up so I have to meet his eyes.
A very small hint of a sly smile touches the corner of his lip.
“It seems you’re not as useless as you appear.”
With that backhanded attempt at a compliment, I frown and pull my face away from his touch. He raises an eyebrow in challenge, as if to silently ask me if I was truly foolish enough to expect genuine flattery from him. “This was very entertaining. Shall we do it again tomorrow?”
He disappears into the dark hallway with a chuckle, and I purposefully slam the door behind him.
Eight
Kaius
I slouch on my throne in a way that’s unbecoming of my station, but with my time with the vampires growing shorter by the minute, I can’t find it in me to care about the petty squabbles and politics of my fellow demons. Dravon and I meet often, ensuring that we quickly put an end to any unrest, take count of our livestock, and address any concerns of demon hunter activity in the area.
Instead of listening to Dravon, I sip my blood-laced wine and watch as my pet viper uses my arm as a branch to wind itself around.
This peculiar creature has been with me for over four hundred years. I found him in the Blackwood during a hunt.
Back then, we used to find small caravans of human demon hunters in that wretched place. The plants in the Blackwood and the demons that live there have unique medicinal properties that are incredibly valuable to human apothecaries. Demon hunters make their living by harvesting and collecting these ingredients.
