Split of the Worlds (18+)

After this initial display of submission, he was gradually granted further portions of mana. He was allowed to practise again and regained some of his former strength. What remained was the dark emptiness inside him. And the demon shackle.

Again and again his master tested him, breaking into his mind to search for resistance, using the demon shackle to make him collapse and keep him helpless for amusement. N'Arahn endured it, embracing the fear and darkness within him, accepting it as part of his new life. He learned. And buried the slowly resurfacing anger at his situation so deep inside himself that he hardly believed it to be true.

Some time had passed when Jazahr gave him a task that showed he thought N'Arahn had learned his lesson. He sent his adjutant to an aspiring demonduchess who currently had no higher demons of her own in her service.

However, she liked to have company around her and preferred to adorn herself with handsome warriors, the schemer explained. N'Arahn was to accompany her to the market, protect her and serve her for a while. However, he would expect regular reports: who did she do business with, who did she meet most often, what goods did she have at her disposal?

"That shouldn't be too difficult, even for someone like you. And you're sort of comely. At least somewhat." N'Arahn bowed his head even lower.

"Yes, master. Thank you for the task, master."

The disdainful sound Jazahr uttered sent a wild pang through the young demon's chest, but he suppressed the surge, emptied his mind. He shouldn't reveal himself, because... because what? There was nothing.

- - - - -

Serving the seductress proved to be comparatively pleasant. In fact, he was more of an exhibit than he had real work to do. Accompanying her to the market was as easy as could be, dragging along an entourage of lesser demons and captains that rendered his protection entirely superfluous.

However, Llanna praised his stature and let him fight small practice battles with other aides or lesser demons, but these were more about displaying physical attributes than injury and victory. Not N'Arahn's favorite kind of fighting, but a positive change after his experiences with his master.

Nevertheless, he reported back regularly as requested. He did not know when he would be called back, so he tried to be useful.

The separation from the schemer also allowed him to think about his alternatives, at least from time to time. Not particularly happy thoughts, because although he was physically far superior to the demonlord again, the demon shackle gave him no chance.

And now his master had also asked about the demoness's weak points. When was she alone? Which powers did she prefer to use? Did she have any jewelry that promised protection? The budding warmonger knew what this would lead to, and he didn't like it. He would have to prepare himself well.

- - - - -

After a day of visits and festivities that had left N'Arahn feeling extremely uncomfortable, the demonduchess retreated with a select few other higher demons. Only later did she send for the borrowed adjutant; by the time he joined her, she was alone again. The air had become saturated with the smells of lust, sweet wine and fruits; the pillows lying around were rumpled.

N'Arahn felt a new excitement rising within him. She had not asked anything like this of him before, but he would have been happy to oblige her in this particular regard. She was attractive, with her body rounded by shadow power to great advantage in his eyes, the red lips and the gaze that promised heat and fulfillment.