The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Eight pt 1

CHAPTER EIGHT

Is he okay? A brief thought crept into the back of Drokn's mind. He quickly shook his head to clear it away, only for the thought to be replaced by a clouded painting of the elf. What if I hid him in the palace—

As soon as he saw the familiar tall, black pillars contrasting the soft image of the elf, all doubts seized. He knew he made the right choice.

It had been a full day of flying without a break and the demon's aching wings cried to have some rest. The ache only worsened when he saw his destination so close. Just a little further past the river that separated the land, he came upon Glatkorin, a humble demon city with homes taller than they are wide and large windows for demons to fly out from.

Drokn missed this air, without being too perfect like the elven cities. As he flew high, he looked at the other demons with wings, flying, circling buildings, chasing, playing. Kids on the walkways laughed loudly, openly, and no one cared. There was a freeing liveliness.

After another hour or so of tired yet restless flying, he saw the tall, guarded structure standing in dignified glory. Finally. With a relieved breath, he glided down before turning his body to land on his feet and walk. The sight of the building crawled a feeling of discomfort the closer he came. His mind remembered the emotionless stares and coldness within the walls, which seemed all the more recognizable after the warmth he'd witnessed in his recent days. For what it's worth, this place at least had a large, soft bed that he craved more by the second.

Combing his hair back with his fingers and stretching out his back after retracting his wings, he walked forward to the palace gates. The grand gate was guarded by demons in black armor with arrowless bows and bladeless swords— tools to be able to utilize their magic as weapons. He walked forward, replaying in his head the many times the palace guards saw him, bowed to him, and opened the gates. He envisioned the same happening this time as well, except for a few surprised and concerned statements at his disappearance.

When he was close enough that anyone could make out his face, he looked to the guards, who oddly neglected their duties to welcome and show respect to the royalty. A churning feeling unsettled in him.

At this point, he stood right in front of the gate, but the gates did not open and the guards looked straight ahead, ignoring his presence.

"Are you blind? Honor me and let me in or fuck off to the dungeons," Drokn growled with a seething glare.

"We're ordered by the king to not let the former crown prince in."

"What—" and then the words sank in. Former crown prince. A flash of the elven guard's voice crossed his mind: [I don't think you're aware of what happened in your absence.]

Drokn menacingly grew a black and purple colored orb in his right palm, but just as he did, the guards drew their bows with arrows of dark energy that faced him.

"You dare point your weapons at me?" In an instant, Drokn swiped his magic, the unusual magnitude of his powers knocking back the guards and crushing the gate. With another quick burst of his magic, a large crater formed on the layered metal.

He glowered back at the guards who lay on the ground in pain, but readying their magic. "Let me in now or I'll behead you this instant. Don't look down on the power the royals have."

"But his majesty's orders—"

The demon shot another dark orb at one of the guards and looked at the other. "My words have weight. You listen to my orders as much as his." When he saw the guard's hesitation, he stepped forward with a dark look. "If you make a speck on royalty, you die and your family dies. But I have the power to destroy you all I want unprovoked. You care to wager this?"

With an alarmed look and furrowed eyebrows, the guard called out to open the gates.

As the gates opened, he noticed several other guards positioned in defense. In frustration, he bit, "The same applies to all of you. One speck on me and you will have no future." As he walked forward, the guards gently stopped him from progressing, unsure of their role and the consequences of their defiance.

Drokn was not having any of it. With a roar, he pushed and shoved through the guards. "I'm just— going— to talk— to my— dear father!" he yelled between shoves until finally he blasted a wall of dark magic around him, knocking everyone out of the way and creating a clear path to the palace entrance. He took no spare moment to destroy the door in front of him with magic and walk in.

Long hallways boomed the sounds of his footsteps as worried palace staff looked in confusion and concern. When he reached the gold plated door, he burst in, scowling at the black haired demon who sat uncaring in his throne with his fist on his cheek as if expecting Drokn's entrance.

"What is the meaning of their orders? Not allowed to enter the palace? Former crown prince? Do you wish to humiliate me?"

Slowly, the king straightened his posture and spoke with his deep and resounding voice. "The one who is humiliating is you. I tried to hide your deplorable lack of magic power from the public. But now, what? Not only are you bonded with an elf," he spat the word, "but you created inter-territorial complications. You've been forgiven for too much for too long."

The king rose and stood tall, looking down at Drokn as if he were an inferior ant. "You're banished from the palace and revoked of your title. These are the terms I offered to keep the elves from bothering us for your trespassing. Your brother will take your place as heir. He was always a better candidate to the throne, anyway. Pity he was born second."

Drokn growled and quickly shot an orb at the king, to which the king easily shielded with his own magic. "You can't make orders if you're dead." An angry sneer washed over the younger demon's face with wicked and murderous eyes. He swung his arms one after the other, throwing orbs over and over, ambushing the king with attacks.

However, the king put up a barrier of deep purple around him, unfazed at the bombardment of magic that just dissipated in contact. With a sigh of annoyance, the king lifted a free hand and sliced the air. A rush of dark magic cut through the space and struck the demon backwards. Then, with another slice and another slice, the king walked forward, closing the long distance and not giving space for Drokn to attack as he groaned in pain with each impact. At last, the king stood only several feet away with a large spear conjured by magic in hand. "Leave the palace now before I kill you."

Just outside the doorway, Drokn lay on his side in agonizing pain and mocking shame. His pride wouldn't have a defeat like this. He staggered his way up and with trembling hands, he yelled and threw a large orb of magic at the king. But to his mortification, the king swatted it away as if it were a fly.

And with an unmerciful gaze, the magnificent demon threw the spear right towards Drokn's chest.