Split of the Worlds (18+)

N'Arahn tried to suppress the trembling that wanted to take hold of him. Why did I do that? He had terrified his angel. Had basically threatened her with torture and physical and psychological destruction. Why?

He wanted to bind her to him and not give her any more reasons to fear and hate him. The anger had overwhelmed him and he had got the impression that she was not taking the whole situation seriously. He could perhaps forgive her for not taking him seriously (Really? Forgiving anyone? Since when can I even think that?), but he needed reassurance that she wasn't being reckless when it came to the other demons.

And then there was something else, behind the anger. More painful, more stinging.

Fear. He was afraid of losing her.

He knew fear, sure. But only fear of someone. Every time he knelt before the Black Throne. If he hadn't felt fear then, he would have been a fool. And the unease he felt at the thought of the creatures of hate was also justified.

But fear for someone? Because that was what he felt for Veidja. He was insanely afraid that she would fall into the hands of the other demonlords. That they would do worse to her than he would ever be willing to inflict on her. He wanted to protect her.

That was a truth he had yet to face.

A noise behind him alerted him to the fact that Veidja was moving again. And like an echo of his own thoughts...

„Why?"

What should he reply to that?

„Why don't you do it?"

Now he was completely confused. Why wasn't he doing what? But she didn't say anything more. He didn't know, should he turn round? How should he react? He was still shaking with anger and this paralysing mixture of fear and a desperate desire for her to understand how important it was that she stayed with him.

He didn't know what he would do if he turned round now and saw mockery in her eyes. Or saw that he had lost her.

But her question lingered in him. ‚Why don't you do it?' What he had threatened to do to her? Yes, she had to ask herself that. It would be so much easier, it would also fit in much better with his other habits if he used her as he pleased and left the seducing, manipulating and playing to others as soon as he lost his appetite for her.

But that was not an option, as his emotional chaos had just vividly demonstrated.

He couldn't give her an answer. Perhaps he didn't want to know it himself.

So he left, leaving his angel behind without another look at her. His servants would see to her return to the chamber.

His steps led him into his garden. The quiet rustling of the leaves and the shimmering green could hardly calm him. But if he intended to subject his feelings, his soul, to a thorough inspection, then it had to happen here. Where he felt safe. Where he could cool down.

His hard steps left imprints in the soft ground, but the closer he got to the old tree, the more the tension flowed out of him.

He was ready to confront himself.

N'Arahn sat down under the overhanging branches, rested his head against the rough bark and closed his eyes. His senses widened. The surrounding corridors were empty, he was alone.

The demon recalled Veidja's horror when he had shown her her options a while ago. Immersed himself in the memory of the sharp odour of disgust and fear that she had emitted for a moment when he had made his offer to her. Although that smell had become much more intense when she realised what the alternative choice could mean for her, what was more important to him was how she felt about taking his side.

They had now spent some time together and he had given her no reason to regard this time as anything other than a captivity. He had only just proved that his nature was a violent one, that he was prone to cruelty, even towards the angel.

Why did he want it to be different?

Approach this systematically, he disciplined himself. What are your thoughts and feelings about angels?

They are a nuisance to me, a plague. Shiny, pompous bugs who think they are the salt of both realms. Self-righteous and blind to the many facets that life has to offer.

Do you mind hurting them, maiming them, pulling out their wings, killing them?

No. It was as simple as that. Nothing had changed.

N'Arahn took a deep breath. Good, that was the easy part. It reassured him that everything was all right with him in that respect.

Now for the harder part.

You have control over an angel, they are yours. Is that good?

Yes.

Even if it's Veidja?

Yes. But... It didn't feel as good as it should. It wasn't as important as it should be either. It wasn't the first thing he thought of when he had his angel in mind. And that was often the case.

Ah, you desire her?

Again: Yes. The thought of her writhing body under his weight was arousing. He had tasted her skin, had often absorbed her scent of honey and mint. His dreams wouldn't let him go. They showed her tempting, teasing, enticing. Filled him with images of wild union.

N'Arahn felt heat rising inside him, his hands involuntarily clutching at the short, hard grass. Hissing, he sucked in the air.

Take her, she is yours! Make her yours, it's your right.

No! No, that wasn't... what he wanted.

You weren't usually so delicate.

Usually? The demonlords he had been with over the years had made use of his body just as he had made use of theirs. Everyone had taken what they wanted. Most of the time there hadn't just been two of them. They had been orgies of sex and violence, with no regard for anything but their own pleasure. It had intoxicated him a few times, then he had got bored. He had made agreements for a while, allowing himself to be used in order to demand favours. Each time he had felt nothing but emptiness. Fighting on the battlefield had fulfilled him more, which was why he turned down offers of this kind in future.

This desire for his angel was different. It wasn't just her foreignness; he could have visited the humans for that. Nor was it the allure of the unattainable, as an angel usually was. It was more. And it wasn't a purely physical thing.

All right, get to the point, demonlord. Just say what the problem is.

N'Arahn stared into the void.

I want her to be well. I want to lay my world at her feet. Want her to want me like I want her. Want to protect her, her respect, her... trust. Not to deceive her, but to fulfil her expectations.

I'm in love.

I'm in love with an angel.

How could this have happened?