DiceGames: The Queen of the Vrildrias

My last entry to Lady Antimony's DiceGames challenge. For this week, I rolled number four: “Make a deal with the Devil.” I know, it's late but here it is anyway :)

The thick stone walls failed to keep the warmth of the fireplace from fleeing, but they trapped the chanting and the screams inside the room. Neither would have been needed if her daughter had been able to summon the greater demons. The mingling smells of incense and sulphur assaulted Queen Yassa’s nose; lesser demons often tried to impress their summoners with smells, sounds and a frightful appearance, but they fooled no one.

“No luck, Luerra?” Yassa, Queen of the vrildrias, growled to her daughter. Luerra shook her head, clawed fingers clutching a black staff. The whelp couldn’t even perform magic without a tool.

“I have not found one suitable, mother.” Luerra’s maw opened into a wicked grin, baring rows of tiny sharp teeth. “They all want to tear their victim to pieces. An assassin could create a seemingly natural death.”

Yassa toyed with the idea for a moment; it would be easier. She already had assassins at her beckoning. “And when the mages find that he was poisoned? No, we need magic stronger than theirs, one of the greater demons.”

Luerra spat on to the rough stones, the vile sound echoing as she cursed: “Stupid humans and our stupid ancestors. Peace with the humans is not worth sharing power.”

“The King of Humans wants to decide what to do with the virra-birds spying on the meetings.” The vrildria Queen placed a hand on a statue of their god, claws clicking against the smooth surface. “Such a trivial matter. If I were the sole ruler the Kingdom would prosper. Instead we toil at these petty issues.”

“Queen of vrildrias and humans.” The flicker of excitement in Luerra’s eyes made her skin crawl. “If not in your time mother, maybe in mine…”

“Do not think of using my tricks on me, daughter.” Wrinkling her sharp snout, Yassa lifted her head. “I can smell betrayal.”

Can you smell opportunity as well?

Yassa froze; her daughter had betrayed her. She wasn’t as stupid as she’d seemed, but had managed to summon one of the greater demons and had commanded it to kill her. She would make such a good ruler.

No, no, no. I am not a demon, but more.

“Vixi.” Luerra breathed the name into the heavy air. Silence fell; both could feel the cold presence of the deity, the smell of death and decay lingering, mixing with the sulphur and incense.

“Oh, our deity speaks to us.” Yassa’s hand gently caressed the statue of the god of death, a winged snake arched into an S-shape. “Don’t we usually pray for 17 days, months or years?”

I have need of a loyal servant.

“I am no one’s servant.”

Forgive me. I am in need of someone loyal who can wield power on my behest.

“Better.” She watched as her daughter poked the statue with the black staff. Her thought returned to the source of the voice. “What can you offer me?”

A god can offer you anything.

“The King’s death would be most satisfactory.” She swiped the black staff away; her daughter recoiled, hissing and baring her teeth. A glance was enough to defuse the whelp’s anger.

He will die.

“I need to stay in power if I am to be of use.”

Yes. There will be demons running amok and you are the only one who can keep them out of the city.

“Queen Yassa, the only one between annihilation and survival.” Her musings were abruptly disrupted by a scoff. She turned to her daughter; a stupid grin graced her long face.

“Your magic is weaker than mine and everyone knows it.” Luerra leaned on her staff. She muttered a word; sparks shot out of from the tip of the staff. “I may need a staff for my spells, but you can’t wield a simple flash spell.”

“True.” Yassa scratched her throat thoughtfully. Her daughter was weak of will and could practise magic, a good pawn.

Call forth my minions 17 days after the King is dead. It is the beginning of my work. Once finished, you shall rule unchallenged.

Yassa smiled as she left her daughters chambers, reveries of her reign filling her with dark joy.

Alone now, Luerra listened as the god spoke, only to her.

Your mother’s reign will be short; do not cry when it is over. I shall need you then.

She’d always known her mother reign would not be long. The humans tolerated a vrildria queen; it was the only way for the two species to coexist peacefully. But as the sole ruler? No, there would be a revolt, demons at their doorstep or not.

“Thank you for answering my prayers,” she whispered, bowing her head. She would kill her mother herself if the deity asked for it.

DiceGames: Vixi's Promise

This is my second entry to Lady Antimony's DiceGames challenge. You throw a dice and look up the corresponding prompt from Lady Antimony's list. For this week, I rolled number one: “Sometimes it's easier just to let them die...”

P.S. Number 17 is an unlucky number in Italy because XVII can be rearranged to "VIXI", which means “I have lived” (implying “I am dead”) in Latin. That's where Vixi's name comes from.

“The deity promised me power.” The mage’s voice was taut with apprehension. “He spoke nothing of skeletal demons.”

Lheyr stared from somewhere beyond the empty eye sockets. The demon cocked his horned head a little; humans were so impatient, especially the ones who already had power. “Think of me as your guide through this process.”

“Process?” The mage’s fingers curled into fists, knuckles whitening. “Speaking to your god was hard enough. I prayed in his temple every day for 17 years before he answered. What more is there?”

“You need to tap into demonic magic.” A bony hand lifted as the demon touched its rib, just where the heart would have been. “Vixi is the god of death, but he is also the lord of demons. Our power is his power.”

The mage fell silent, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood. Yet Lheyr could sense apprehension and fear. Ribs expanded as the demon drew air, a memory of the time it had been human. Like the mage, Lheyr had prayed to Vixi for power and received it. The difference between him and the lesser demons was that he knew how to use that power.

Yes, he wielded power ruthlessly; even the other skeletal demons cringed at his actions.

He waited for the mage to seek out demonic magic. Like the elements, it was there, you just needed to take hold of it. But unlike the elements you could cast any kind of spell with it. The only downside was that you turned into a demon in the end, but it was downside only to those afraid.

“Use it, feel the magic taint your soul,” he whispered.

Lheyr watched the mage flinch as he felt the touch of evil magic, but he continued on; twin flames erupted from his palms, spreading darkness instead of light.

“More,” the demon spoke softly.

The flames grew, their darkness enveloped the mage, but Lheyr could still see him. Arms held out, head tilted slightly back, they were always dramatic.

The flames flickered.

“When—?“

“When I say you’re done. More power.” Lheyr began calling his own magic, drawing deep from the murky core of his being. Users of demonic magic didn’t turn into demons suddenly, there were stages. First you had nightmares; eventually the horrors of the demonic world would become reality. The last stage before the change was the most frightful; demons could see the unwary user of their magic and begin dragging him or her into the demonic world.

The mage flinched as another skeletal demon touched his arm with a clawed finger. Perhaps this one would cross of his own free will.

But the flames died abruptly.

“This is not what I asked for! I will not become a demon for the sake of power!”

Lheyr stood still, hollow eye sockets staring at the outraged mage. Everyone knew Vixi’s promises came at a price, but how high, they couldn’t possibly foresee.

“The pact must be honoured.” Lheyr’s arms lifted, fingers reaching towards the mage, then twisting back as he stole away the hapless man’s life force.

“Fight me! Turn into a demon or die!” Lheyr’s bony jaws twisted into a smile. “Either way the master shall have you!”

“I will not become like you.” The mage called on his own magic, fire sparked between his hands growing into a ball of flames. Lheyr scoffed at the feeble display of power. Why did they always choose a flashy spell? All pomp and no power got you killed when facing a demon.

“The strongest demons are second only to the gods themselves. You want power, become one of us!”

The mage threw the flame, striking Lheyr in the face, but the demon continued on, ignoring the soot on its skull. It continued on sapping the life from the mage, bit by bit, and scattered it to the four winds. A demon did not require life force, it fed on pain and despair.

One final time he repeated the offer, “Join us.”

“No.” The mage whispered. He crumpled down into an unmoving heap. Lheyr nudged the corpse with a clawed toe. No reaction. Another skeletal demon, this one resembling a snake with bony arms and an oxen head, stared at him.

“Son, tell the missus that we don’t need prey. Another one died.” The demon crossed his arms. “I looked forward to teaching possession to a new demon.”

Lheyr would stand vigil until his god raised the mage from the dead. Vixi would have a new servant and the mage would have power, the pact would be honoured, though not as the mage had intended. Lheyr sighed and shook his head; sometimes it was just easier to let them die.