Page 22 of The Dark Lord Awakens
The raven landed on my outstretched arm, surprisingly lightweight despite its size.
“Captain Sparkles, Herald of Doom, reporting for duty, my liege,” the raven announced in a surprisingly deep voice. “The aerial reconnaissance division awaits your orders.”
I blinked in surprise. “You can talk.”
“Indeed, my lord. I can also mimic any voice I have heard, a skill most useful for infiltration and psychological warfare.”
Captain Sparkles. I’d named it that because of its galaxy eyes, thinking they looked “sparkly.” The military title had been added as a joke during a late-night gaming session when everything seemed funnier than it actually was.
The final companion slithered forward—a serpentine creature with crystalline scales that radiated cold. It left a trail of frost on the stones as it moved.
“Lord Popsicle of the Frozen Wastes,” Azrael introduced with perfect seriousness.
The ice wyrm rose up, frost patterns forming in the air around it. “It isiceto see you again, my lord,” it said, its voice tinkling like ice chimes. “The court has beenfrozenin anticipation of your return.”
Oh God. The ice puns. I remembered programming those in during a particularly punchy late-night session when I thought I was the wittiest person alive. I’d been wrong. So, so wrong.
“Lord Popsicle can compress to bracelet size,” Azrael informed me. “Many enemies have been surprised when your ‘jewelry’ suddenly expanded into a thirty-foot ice wyrm.”
“That’s… handy,” I said, holding out my wrist.
Lord Popsicle immediately coiled around it, shrinking until it resembled an ornate bracelet of living crystal. The cold was noticeable but not uncomfortable.
I stood in the courtyard, a miniature dragon around my shoulders, a talking raven on my arm, a three-headed hellhound at my feet, and an ice wyrm around my wrist. This was definitely not how I’d expected my day to go when I woke up in my crappy apartment that morning, dreading another shift at the call center where the highlight would be if the vending machine didn’t eat my money.
A small crowd of servants had gathered at the edges of the courtyard, watching with undisguised fascination. When I glanced their way, they immediately dropped their gazes, but not before I caught expressions of wonder and—surprisingly—hope.
“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Azrael quietly.
“They are not accustomed to seeing you so… approachable,” he replied, his tone carefully neutral. “The Dark Lord they remember was more… distant.”
“Distant as in ‘busy with important dark lord business’ or distant as in ‘would set them on fire for looking at him wrong’?”
Azrael’s silence was answer enough.
Great. So I’d designed myself as a total tyrant in this game. No wonder everyone seemed surprised when I thanked them or asked their opinion. They were expecting me to demand their firstborn children as sacrifices, not engage in constructive management practices.
“Things are going to be different now,” I said, loud enough for the gathered servants to hear. “Iferona faces challengesthat require all of us working together. I expect loyalty and competence, but those who provide it will find me… fair.”
The word ‘fair’ seemed to ripple through the crowd like a physical force. Whispers broke out, and I caught snatches of “changed” and “different” and “chance for us.”
Beside me, Azrael’s expression remained perfectly composed, but the temperature around him dropped several degrees. The mini-dragon around my shoulders hissed softly in his direction, picking up on something I couldn’t perceive.
“Shall we continue the tour, my lord?” Azrael suggested, his voice smooth as silk despite the frost forming on his perfect butler uniform. “There is much more of the castle to see.”
As we walked away, Captain Sparkles leaned close to my ear. “The butler is not pleased with your new approach, my liege,” the raven whispered. “He preferred when your attention was… more exclusively focused.”
I glanced at Azrael’s rigid back as he led the way. Oh, so my demonic butler apparently had some possessiveness issues. That was something to file away for future reference—right underPfor “Potentially Problematic” and cross-referenced withMfor “Might Murder Anyone Who Gets Too Close To Me.”
For now, though, I had a kingdom to save, heroes to avoid, and apparently, a whole menagerie of ridiculously named magical creatures to reacquaint myself with.
Just another day in the life of a dark lord. I was almost starting to get used to it.
Almost.
6
Azrael
