Page 101 of Unbinding the Demon
Azathoth swooped me off without hesitation and spun me in a circle with a playful smile. I giggled as he kissed my lips, then set me down on the strange, squelchy ground. I had to be careful not to trip over the various bones littered all around since some were half-covered in the alien-looking black moss.
Sagacor’s front hooves stomped with excitement as we approached one of the trees. With a cheerful snort and playful nicker, he watched Valarendrik’s clawed, undead hand delicately embrace a small red fruit. With swift precision, he then plucked the prized treasure from the branch. The dripping black twigs swayed and hissed in protest, as if upset by the loss of their fruit…Weird.
Valarendrik smiled with heartfelt warmth as he lovingly presented the treat to his companion. Sagacor opened his mouth, revealing terrifying, sharp horse teeth, his six eyes focusing on the fruit. Then he munched on it with a delicate, juicy bite. I inwardly laughed. Valarendrik might have been frightening to look at, but he certainly had a heart of gold. Their connection was adorable, and I found it delightful to watch them interact.
“It’s too bad Belzar wasn’t well enough to have come along with us. He loves this area.” My gaze shifted back to Azathoth, who was tossing a small skull in his hand with an air of ease.
“Why is that?”
“Well, all the bones, of course.” He tossed the skull off into the darkness. I couldn’t see it land, but I heard it clunk on another bone or rock. “Sometimes, he’d beg me for days to come here and play fetch. I was always hesitant, though, because once we were here, it was impossible to get him to leave. I’ve had to throw him over my shoulder and fly away while he bitterly complained more times than I can count.” He chuckled, then pulled me to his side.
I tilted my head to look up at him. It was still strange to me that Belzar could talk to him. “How does he talk to you, anyway? I’ve heard you speaking to him as if you were having a one-sided conversation before, but I always assumed you were just a weirdo,” I laughed in a teasing tone.
An amused smile stretched across his face. “Well, he has a telepathic link to me because I kindled his soul with mine.”
A confused look contorted my features. “What does that mean?”
He waved his hand in a circle as he explained. “Remember how I told you his soul is connected to mine? It’s sort of like taking an ember from a fire and using it to create another. His soul is unique and all his own, but in a way, my soul fathered his. I made him intelligent, gave him my abilities, and tied his lifeline to mine. That’s why his eyes are golden and luminescent, instead of black and soulless like all other abyss wolves. It’s also why he can change his appearance and traverse the shadow realms just like me.”
“Huh.”I nodded my head in understanding. “So he’s an abyss wolf with a demonic soul? That’s pretty cool.” I smiled as I thought about the cute fluffy doggo. We hadn’t even been in The Abyss that long, yet I still missed him. “What made you want to do that to him?” We began strolling over toward Valarendrik and Sagacor.
“Well, he was injured somehow and then abandoned by his pack when he was a very young puppy. I found him as a pitiful, frightened, and dejected thing, trembling beneath a bush. He looked sickly and heartbroken, so I tried to comfort him for a moment, not wanting to meddle with nature too much. Then the little fucker wouldn’t stop following me when I tried to leave! So I decided to keep him for a little bit just to fix him up. I honestly had every intention of returning him to the pack... Now, three thousand years later, I'm still stuck with that mongrel.” A look of love for Belzar twinkled in his eyes as he spoke.
Wow, what a big softie.
I laughed at him and stroked Sagacor’s soft black nose. “You know, for a demon, you really don’t seem all that evil.” I spoke with a mischievous sparkle in my eyes.
He cast an insincere scowl my way with a low growl. The back of his claws grazed along my jawline in a sinister caress. “You’d be wise to remember that I am evil incarnate, my love.”
I let out a playful tsk, rolling my eyes in exaggerated disbelief. “Yeah right, more like puppy rescuer incarnate.” An amused smile found its way to my lips as I continued to pet Sagacor.
“Gwendolyn,” Valarendrik called to me. I ducked around Sagacor’s gigantic head, finding him by the saddlebags. He stood there, flashing a toothy smile and eagerly waving me over.
I patted Sagacor’s nose one last time, then walked over to him. “Valarendrik,” I said with a smile. He pulled something long and wrapped in black cloth out from one of the saddlebags. The language barrier made communicating a bit difficult for us, but we could at least say each other’s names and had Azathoth as our designated translator.
“Valarendrik...” Azathoth drawled with suspicion, eyeing him from behind me.
He gave Azathoth a quick glance with a guilty half-smirk, as if he were up to no good. His corpse-like hands unraveled the fabric with great care, revealing two small sheathed swords. My eyes widened as I took in the sight of them. Both weapons were identical, boasting handles carved from sleek black stone. Each end glimmered with dark gray crystals encased in fierce, claw-like prongs. The exquisite sheaths reflected the same black stone, complemented by dark gray metal accents and artistry.
With his head humbly lowered, he presented them to me, a kind smile gracing his face. “Oh wow,” I said in awe, with an awkward look of complete confusion.The cold, heavy stone rested in my palms as I hesitantly took the gifts.
Is he seriously giving these to me?
Azathoth’s arm swiftly slithered around my shoulders. His face leaned in from behind as he shifted his angry scowl between the blades and Valarendrik several times. “What the fuck is going on here!?” he asked sharply, then spat out something that I assumed was a bunch of abyssal curse words. I took my time pulling one of the blades from its sheath, admiring it as each glimmering inch came into view.
My breath hitched as I took in the sight of it. It was the most beautiful blade I had ever seen. The dark gray metal symmetrically curved on either side, tapering into a narrow point. Sharp spikes curved out from the base, like dainty rows of louring thorns. Black, vine-like, labyrinthine engravings wove their way down the center of the blade, stopping just a few inches before the tip. I had no doubt these treasures were meant for someone of royal blood. Every intricate detail spoke of nobility, radiating grandeur fit for a king or queen.
Holy cow!
Their beauty entranced me as my wide ogling eyes took them in... Then a large, clawed hand furiously snatched them away. “Oh, no, no, no! Absolutely not!” Azathoth glared at Valarendrik, speaking in the abyssal language with a sharper edge to his words than the swords. He clutched the swords, keeping them away from me. I had no idea what he was saying, but I could tell that he was reprimanding the sweet, generous prince.
“What the fuck, Azathoth!?” I interrupted his abyssal lambasting.
“You are not keeping these! They’re way too dangerous, and you could easily hurt yourself!” he stated without room for question, keeping his fiery gaze locked on Valarendrik.
“Yeah, flippin’ right!I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of not injuring myself!” I lied, while stomping my foot like a spoiled child. In all honesty, I wouldn’t even trust myself with a flimsy butter knife. But, goddammit, those blades were cool!
“Yes, but you’remygrown woman, and I’m not going to sit back and watch you accidentally chop your own head off with magic abyssal blades!” He waved them up in the air with aggravation.
