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She looks at me, confusion evident in her gaze. “I don’t understand.”
I allow my gaze to rise over the endless shelves that tower into chasmic darkness, stacked with ancient tomes and long-forbidden scrolls. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and dust, a testament to the centuries of knowledge stored here. Arcane artifacts glimmer from shadowy alcoves. The very walls thrum with the knowledge contained herein—every dark secret ever whispered, every bloody pact struck beneath a waning moon. Millennia of occult lore, just waiting to be unleashed by one daring enough to seek it.
Let us see how bold she’ll be now.
“You wanted a chance to prove your worth. This is it.” I know my gaze smolders as I give her the full brunt of my stare, but down here in the quiet darkness, she has nowhere to run, and I can’t help it. “So where shall we begin your quest for answers?”
Elara eyes the shadowy archives warily. “Answers? What exactly do you expect me to find in here?”
“Proof to support your proposed changes.” I smirk, trailing one claw along endless book spines. “Beyond your own assumptions.”
I relish the uncertainty that flickers across her face. The Forbidden Library is no place for half-formed convictions. Many a soul has wandered in foolishly, never to wander out. Such is the price of unsanctioned knowledge.
But Elara merely lifts her chin in that stubborn way she has. “I’m not afraid of research. There must be something useful amidst all these…” She squints at one blood-stained tome. “…interesting texts.”
I grin. “The knowledge here can be quite…potent for mortals.” I lift the book, fanning tattered pages filled with ancient curses and demonic anatomical illustrations. Elara flushes.
“I’ll, uh, start with the auditing resources,” she says quickly, turning down a row of ledgers. I chuckle, replacing the book. So much yet to learn, little one.
I trail her as she tries to find the books she needs, chin high and shoulders straight. She moves through the library as if this is second nature, and I get a distinct image of her Aboveworld doing the same thing.
Through all this, I track her without even meaning to. It is hard not to. Her soul shines through her like a beacon, radiant and irresistible. Even through the layers of hellfire and brimstone, her soul is a brilliant white star, a contrast against the relentless darkness. It’s not just purity that makes her soul stand out, it’s the resiliency, the vibrancy of it. It’s like a melody I haven’t felt in centuries, one that makes what’s left of my essence pulsate to a different rhythm.
The demons around us are drawn to it, like moths to a flame, their dark eyes reflecting the light. They keep their distance though, their instincts warning them against crossing the invisible boundaries set by Lucifer himself. It’s a game of fire, and no one dares to get burned—even in Hell.
I watch as she steps forward, her hand reaching out to trace the spine of a book. The library is her domain, a place where she finds comfort, even in Hell. It’s fascinating to see her so engrossed, so oblivious to the dangerous desires swirling around her.
Watching Elara, a protectiveness bubbles within me, wanting to shield her light from being extinguished by the darkness that permeates this place. A dangerous emotion I thought myself incapable of.
The urge to corrupt her, to mark her as mine, is a potent pull. It’s a challenge, a dare. The very idea goes against my nature, against the rules of this realm.
As a demon, my purpose is singular—to corrupt mortal souls and condemn them to these fiery pits. Giving in to attachment, possessive desire? That leads down a treacherous path.
The laws that bind my existence, the regulations of this dark underworld, are as old as time itself. They are absolute, immutable, and sternly enforced. We demons are forbidden from forming connections with mortal souls, let alone claiming them as our own.
If word spread that an archdemon felt something for a mortal beyond conquest, it would invite challenge. My brethren would see it as a weakness to be exploited. Everything I’ve built crumbling because I forgot my place.
She thinks I only toy with her, but the truth is far more perilous. She’s stumbled into a viper’s nest, yet I find myself yearning to preserve her from its sting. A fool’s impulse I cannot indulge.
Yet, the thought of her, fallen, corrupted, and mine, isintoxicating.
I can’t help but feel a sense of ownership already. Her presence in my domain, the way she looks at everything with such untainted curiosity, the way she seems to trust me, despite our disagreements and even though she shouldn’t. It’s…compelling.
“Bax,” she calls out, a deep frown on her perfect face.
I take a step closer, the distance between us closing. I can feel the heat of her soul, the pull of it. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, a game that could burn us both.
“These texts contradict themselves endlessly,” Elara mutters, snapping a moldy book shut. “How does anyone make sense of this mess?”
“Mess makes more sense than order in the demonic realms,” I say, her words pulling me back to the whole reason I brought her down to this place. “Your human logic is the opposite.” Surely, she sees my point now.
Doubt creeps across her face once more.
“There must be something usable amidst all this.” Elara drags a finger down a shelf thick with forbidden rites and blood magick texts. “Some insight that can—”
“Can what?” I send a small lash of fire along the books, searing away centuries of dust before I lean in, watching hope gutter in her eyes. “Prove your young, mortal way is wiser than our ancient order?”
Elara is silent for a long moment. When she meets my gaze at last, a familiar stubbornness glows once more in her eyes. “You’re right. The answers aren’t written in some book.” She gestures around us. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
