Demon Lord VII - Dark Domain

by Southwell, T C

  Mirra tugged at his hand. “What is it?”

  “I do not know. Can you not see them?”

  “No.”

  Bane blinked. The man-shaped creatures had no souls, and the four shadows had small dull red ones. “Go,” he whispered. “Now.”

  Mirra released his hand and backed away. One of the entities vanished and reappeared right in front of Bane, becoming entirely visible. Curved horns swept from the brow of what appeared to be a muscular, seven-foot-tall man clad in polished, spiked steel armour over a tattered dark grey kilt, his face partially obscured by a bull-faced helm. The second creature appeared beside the first, this one wearing a spiked helm and scale mail over ragged brown trousers. He had a massive broadsword strapped across his back, and the first carried a spiked club. They peered at Bane with ink-black eyes, which flicked past him to Mirra.

  “Ha! Sport!” the bull-helmed man shouted.

  Two of the shadows beyond them shot towards Bane, becoming recognisable. Hellhounds. Bane flung himself at them as they streaked past, seizing one. He rolled with it in the clouds, the demon beast growling as his hands locked around its throat. It was impossible to strangle something that did not breathe, however, and he could not destroy a hound without his power. A scream from the clouds where Mirra had fled turned his heart to fire, and he gripped the Hellhound’s head and twisted, ripping it off. Leaping up, he sprang after the other beast, but something struck him from behind, sending him rolling into the mist. Mirra screamed again, and Bane raised his head, his skull ringing and lights dancing in his eyes. The hound circled her, its eyes aglow, teeth bared, savouring its kill for the benefit of its masters.

  Kayos appeared beside Mirra, swept her up and vanished, leaving the Hellhound snapping at air. Bane slumped, clasping his pounding head, then became aware of the two beings who stood behind him, watching him. He turned, frowning. Drevarin appeared in the clouds off to his left, striding closer, but he stopped several yards away, looking uncertain. Bane studied the man-shaped creatures, but he had no idea what they were. The Hellhound whose head he had torn off grew a new one, stood up and returned to its masters, as did the other one.

  Bane rose to his feet, facing the intruders.

  One bent to peer at him. “You’re quick, for a mortal. A blue mage, perhaps?”

  “No. What the hell are you?”

  The man-creature guffawed, nudging his companion, who grinned, revealing shark-like teeth.

  Bane jumped as a familiar voice spoke beside him.

  “They are demon gods.” Kayos met Bane’s glance with a warning one.

  One of the demon gods bowed, pretending to doff his bull helm. “Well guessed, light god. Even you don’t know for sure, since our kind is so rare.”

  “With good reason,” Kayos replied. “You are abominations. But I do know for sure, since I have encountered your kind before.”

  “Ah! One of the elders, then.”

  “Kayos.”

  “Spank me silly,” the demon god with the spiked helm said, “I do declare we’re in the presence of royalty, Dramon.”

  “Nay, Nomard, more like celestial bigotry,” the other god replied.

  “True.”

  Bane glanced at Kayos. “Is Mirra all right?”

  “She is unhurt.”

  “How dangerous are they?”

  “Hard to say. If they choose to be, extremely, but demon gods are even less inclined to get into a fight than demons. These two are twins, from their names, which means they were once one god who split himself in two in order to have someone to talk to, or to argue with, more likely. They are probably merely looking for sport.”

  Dramon, who wore the bull-faced helm, leant closer again. “Indeed we are, Silver God, and this little mage is quick. If he runs really fast, we might have to trot to catch him.”

  “You will not find sport in this domain,” Kayos said. “You should seek it elsewhere.”

  “Ha, trying to warn us off, is it?” Dramon looked at Drevarin. “Two light gods here, eh? And a realm gate standing open. Why, I wonder?” He glanced up as a craft flew overhead. “Huh. Clever people, too. I’m intrigued. How about you, Nomard?”

  “Fascinated.” Nomard appeared less impressed. “Let’s find a good alehouse, old boy, my whistle needs wetting.”

  “Nay, there’s more to this than meets the eye. A Silver God and a young… make that two young light gods.”

  Bane shot a glance at Drevarin, finding that Sherinias now stood beside him.

  Dramon eyed her. “This domain’s owner, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “So,” Nomard said, “all of us here are gods, except… you.”

  Bane met his jet eyes. “Do not be so sure of your assumptions.”

  Dramon waved his club. “I tell you what, little mage, if you run, we’ll chase you, and that will be sport. You managed to pull off poor old Spot’s head, and that takes a bit of doing, so you might prove to be fun. What do you say?”

  “Take me to the mid realm, and I will consider it.”

  “Bane…” Kayos cast him a worried frown. “Do not underestimate these two. They may act like clowns, but they are not to be toyed with.”

  “Him, toy with us?” Dramon chortled.

  “How did you get up here, if you need help to get down?” Nomard enquired.

  “I flew,” Bane said.

  “Ah, and he’s a liar, to boot,” Dramon remarked.

  “My kind of mage,” Nomard declared, grinning again.

  “Well, this lot’s no fun,” Dramon said, glancing at the light gods. “Especially the old grey one. I vote for a stint in the sun.”

  “I’m with you.”

  Nomard’s hand flashed out and gripped Bane’s arm, and fire engulfed him. He wrenched free as it vanished, reeling a little. He stood in a sunlit field bordered by stands of cultivated forest. Dramon sat on the grass, brushing dust from his sleeves. Nomard stood beside him, gazing around.

  “Bit of a bumpy ride, old chap,” Dramon grumbled.

  “Sorry, old bean.”

  The four demon hounds appeared a few yards away and sat down, watching their masters with yellow eyes. In the sunlight, their droge shells hardened to protect their dark forms, which made them shrink somewhat. Bane spread his hands and summoned the dark power. It rose from the ground and snaked from the forest in ropes of shadow, soaking into his flesh and bones, four of the scars on his chest igniting under his shirt. As the darkness invaded his flesh, the light stabbed his eyes and his skin crawled in the sun’s warmth, making him long to seek the trees’ shade.

  Dramon climbed to his feet, gaped at him and nudged Nomard. “What do you think of that?”

  “Bugger me.”

  Bane cocked his head. “So, do you still want to chase me?”

  “More than ever,” Dramon said.

  “Probably not a good idea, though,” Nomard commented.

  Bane sifted through the information the dark power bestowed, learning a lot more about demon gods than he wanted to, he discovered. They were amongst the strangest of all the gods, and considered neither dark nor neutral, but a type all their own – weird. They were always many thousands of years old, and were basically the embodiment of boredom. Having spent so much time as demons, they found little to amuse them by the time they evolved into gods, and spent all their time in search of sport. Anything that fled was fair game, but, like demons, they rarely killed. They left that to the Hellhounds that always accompanied them. The hounds were not summoned by them, but obeyed them most of the time. The odd relationship was born out of a mutual need for excitement and, in the case of the hounds, death and destruction. The demon gods were spectators. They were definitely not welcome in a domain, however, and spent most of their existence in the God Realm.

  Nomard drew his broadsword. “Hey, do you think you could blow his head off?” he asked Bane, indicating Dramon with a jab of his weapon.

  “Steady on, old boy,” Dramon protested. “I’m rather fond of my head.”
>
  “You should leave this domain,” Bane said.

  “Oh, indubitably,” Nomard agreed, “but we’d both like to see you make us.”

  “Very much,” Dramon chimed in.

  The dark power within Bane seethed, but it warned him, too, just as Kayos had done. He sensed that trying to evict them would be futile, and fighting them would prove ineffective. They were simply too powerful. Dramon and Nomard watched him, their heads cocked. Apparently he was the most interesting thing they had encountered for some time, but he did not want two demon gods following him around. He wondered what a demon would have to say about them.

  “Eslason, come to me.”

  Nomard nudged his brother. “This could get interesting.”

  A black circle formed in the grass beside Bane, and the earth demon shot up from it, a writhing mud-form that transformed into a burly man with black eyes and a thatch of dark hair, clad in a red shirt and brown leather jacket and trousers.

  He bowed to Bane, his eyes flicking to the two jokers. “Lord.”

  Bane jerked his chin at the demon gods. “What do you know about their kind?”

  “They are a curse upon demons and men alike, Lord.”

  “You do not worship them?”

  Eslason shook his head. “No, Lord. We hate them.”

  “How do I get rid of them?”

  “There is no way, unless you can destroy them or drive them out of this domain. Their power is different from yours, so they will not be easily destroyed.”

  Bane frowned, beginning to realise just how much of a curse being followed by two meddling demon gods could be. He had much to do, and these two could become a serious hindrance. He dismissed Eslason and pondered the problem. Dramon yawned and Nomard scratched his armpit. Bane wondered how long it would take for them to become bored and leave, if he did nothing. They had declared the light gods to be no fun, and he was hardly any better, surely, being a dark god. They could not chase him, as they had planned, and the Hellhounds would not attack him.

  Bane waited as minutes ticked past. Nomard and Dramon glanced at each other. Nomard vanished and reappeared beside Bane, his broadsword whistling down, aimed to cleave Bane in two. The Demon Lord Moved, rematerialising beside Dramon as the demon god swung his spiked club. Bane unleashed a blast of black fire at Dramon’s head and Moved again, out of reach. Dramon reeled, half his head burnt away, his bull-head helm glowing red hot.

  Nomard doubled over with mirth, slapping his knee. “I knew he could do it, Dramon.”

  Dramon regained his equilibrium, and his head reformed. Smoke rose from his scalp, and he patted his sizzling helm. “Quite impressive, I must say.”

  “You two would be well advised to leave me be,” Bane said.

  “Oh? And why is that?” Nomard enquired.

  “I am not inclined to be your plaything, or playmate. Consider me as boring as the light gods.”

  “But you’re not. All they do is lie on their couches and watch their Eyes. You’re up to something, I can tell.”

  “Do you usually harass dark gods?”

  “We’ve been known to harass a few,” Dramon said. “But you’re not a true dark god, or you wouldn’t keep the company of light gods. You’re something else. Something we haven’t encountered before.”

  Bane considered. If the demon gods thought light gods were boring, he could be just as dull. He Moved to the light realm, and the demon gods appeared an instant later, glancing around with disappointed expressions. Bane strolled towards the gazebo, hoping Mirra was safely aboard the ship. Kayos and Drevarin reclined on their couches, watching their Eyes, and looked up as he entered the gazebo. The demon gods stopped just outside. Bane assumed Sherinias was in the White City, evicting tainted souls, as she had been doing for two days. Kayos eyed Dramon and Nomard, then turned his attention to Bane as he sank down on a spare couch.

  “I think they might leave if I become as boring as a light god,” Bane said.

  Kayos shook his head. “Do not count on it.”

  “I am not fighting them if I can possibly avoid it. They are elementals. The shadows call them freaks. The demons call them a curse with no cure, save their own boredom.”

  “They have been known to liven things up when they grow bored.”

  “Then let them. Oddly enough, light gods are a threat to them, just as you are to demons. That is why you do not fear them.”

  The Grey God sighed. “They are a complication we do not need.”

  “What if we closed the gates?” Bane asked. “They have no invitation to be here.”

  “They would have to flee or be destroyed, but they may well choose to go to the mid realm.”

  “They might also leave to avoid being trapped. At least it will get them out of the light realm.”

  Kayos inclined his head. “Sherinias will be pleased.”

  “They might wreak havoc in the outer city, though,” Drevarin remarked.

  Bane shrugged. “There should not be anyone left there by now.”

  “True,” Kayos agreed. “We cannot have them following you around, interfering in our plans, which they will doubtless do. We must try to get rid of them.”

  “Then I think the light realm’s defences are the only way to do it.”

  “What about you?” Drevarin asked. “You have no invitation either, since the inner wards have been dormant since we came here.”

  “Sherinias will invite him,” Kayos said.

  Drevarin nodded. “I will tell her to close the gates.”

  “They might spy on you, and they will try to stop her if they find out,” Bane warned.

  “Then you will have to distract them.”

  The Demon Lord glanced at Dramon and Nomard, who watched him intently, as if trying to goad him into action with their flinty stares. Drevarin vanished, and the demon gods looked at each other. Dramon gestured, forming an Eye. Bane raised a hand and directed a blast of black fire at it, squinting in the flare of hissing blue light that sheathed it. Dramon started as his Eye disintegrated in a flash of sapphire flame. Nomard flickered out of sight.

  Bane leapt up. “He is going after Drevarin.”

  “Go to the world gate,” Kayos said.

  Bane Moved. Sherinias already stood in front of the gate, Drevarin at her side. She raised her arms, her expression blissful and eyes closed, and slowly moved her hands together. The massive golden gates, which had stood open for so many aeons, began to swing closed. Nomard appeared on the path that led to the portal, his form almost invisible, and strode towards the young goddess. Bane stepped into his path. Nomard drew his broadsword and raised it. Dramon appeared behind him, his spiked club at his side. Bane flung twin bolts of dark power at them, striking Nomard in the chest and Dramon in the head. The blue flare almost blinded Bane, and he blinked bright spots from his eyes as the demon gods staggered. Nomard had a deep crater in his chest and Dramon was missing half his head again, but they barely slowed. The reason demon gods were so formidable, Bane realised, was not because they had a lot of power. They were indestructible.

  Bane summoned a sword and swung it at Nomard’s head, chopping deep into the side of his skull. Nomard lunged at Bane, his broadsword skimming past his ribs as he swayed aside. Drevarin materialised close by, a shining shield in one hand. Kayos appeared beyond Dramon and smashed a glowing silver shield into his back, sending him rolling into the clouds. Bane retreated, hacking at Nomard again, but he was doing little to impede the demon god, who still strode towards the gates. The only thing that would slow their advance was brute force. Dropping his weapon, he confronted Nomard and gave him a shove that sent him reeling backwards to land on his rump with a thud.

  At the gate, Sherinias’ hands were almost together. The great golden doors flashed in the sun, dappled with the marks of a tiny hammer. A flying vehicle was forced to stop outside as the gates sealed with a flash of white fire, cutting off most of the power that streamed through them like glowing mist. Sherinias turned to beam at Bane, Kayos an
d Drevarin. Nomard picked himself up out of the clouds and helped his brother to his feet, eyeing the closed portal.

  “Very clever, you old grey bastard,” he said to Kayos. “You know full well demon gods will not allow themselves to be trapped in a domain.”

  “Why is that?” Bane enquired.

  “Because we spent aeons trapped in one, and they are boring.”

  “Then you had best leave,” Kayos said, “because next we will close the realm gate.”

  Dramon glanced at the four shadowy demon hounds. “You would regret this, if not for him.” He jerked his chin at Bane.

  Bane knew the reason for his comment, as, apparently, did Kayos and Drevarin, but Sherinias asked, “Why only Lord Bane?”

  “Because, stupid girl, he is a dark god, and that means he can destroy Hellhounds, while light gods cannot. He is the reason we will leave.”

  “Why would you care if he destroys your hounds?”

  “Why not ask your Oracle?”

  Bane glanced at her. “They value their hounds, which provide them with sport. Life would be that much more boring without them, not so, Dramon?”

  “Indeed. Stultifying.”

  Nomard turned away, sheathing his broadsword. “Beware, Silver God, this domain is on the brink of a catastrophe the likes of which few have seen, or would wish to. We would enjoy watching it, but alas…”

  “What do you mean?” Sherinias demanded.

  Dramon snorted, picking up his spiked club. “You are going to start a war with demons, and when you do, the light will pay a terrible price.” The twins tramped towards the gate hall, their hounds trotting ahead.

  Sherinias pattered after them. “Wait!” she cried. “Why do you say that?”

  Nomard looked back. “Demon dust builds mighty walls, and the sky will bleed when angels fall.”

  It sounded like a quote, Bane thought, and clearly Sherinias shared his view, for she asked, “Where is that written?”

  “In the stars.”

  Sherinias stopped and frowned at their backs until they vanished into the clouds, then turned to Kayos. “Father?”