Welcome to Gaia! ::

Azreth opened his mouth to speak and abruptly closed it, a sly smile lifting the corners of his lips. Green eyes slid to the right, catching a very familiar figure in his peripheral vision. He sent a mental nudge against the walls of Zel's mind. :: No one here bites, you know. And I'm getting to a part I really think you should know about, though you might be upset with me. :: Zel had been like the King's eccentric uncle since they met, and he was the King's most trusted adviser. The Alchemist had been his pillar of strength in the hectic weeks after his father's funeral, and he loved the man for it, though he'd never say it out loud.

Green eyes flicked over as he saw the newcomers, waving to Yasriel and Aila. He sent a mental invitation to their Bonded, letting the two pairs know they were welcome to join the group. The King glanced upwards at the star-lit sky, surprised that night had fallen; he had been so lost in his words and the company that he hadn't noticed. Always wanting a chance to show off in front of Zel -- to make the man roll his eyes and snort, of course -- Azreth extended his hand, a tendril of blue flame shooting from his palm. With a hiss and a crackle, a blue fire came to life, shortly turning into the element's more natural colors of reds and golds.

Valdien folded his knees and lay on his right, his chin resting atop Senka's neck as he nickered to her. The King untangled a hand from the mare's mane, stroking Valdien's nose as he waited for everyone to settle in around the fire. When Yas and Aila were settled in, and Zel signaled he would come over shortly, Azreth resumed his tale after making introductions all around.

"I will skip over the burial of my father, as that is another story for another time. Let us go forward two days beyond it, and I will tell all of you something no other soul save one knows." The King took a flask from a hidden pocket within his waistcoat, the backs of his knuckles brushing against his throwing knives before he removed his hand. He gave himself a swig of liquid courage before resuming.

"On the second day after my father's funeral, I found a book in his chambers. This detailed a ritual to summon one of the Fae. Now, before I dive in to that, let me explain. The Six had just emerged from hiding, and as there were only a handful of Azrein in the Greater Herd at the time, they were a huge threat. I was up to my eyebrows in anxiety, and I feared that before the Azrein had a chance to grow and Choose, the Six would wipe them out entirely. Can any of you imagine a world without your other half?" He waited for a moment as each pair looked at one another before going on.

"Every night for three months straight, I had practiced this ritual. I hadn't actually performed it, but I did it so often I could do it blind, deaf, and half-dead. Three months and two days after burying my father, I put theory to practice. There was a ferocious storm that night -- I'm sure each of you remembers it well. There hadn't been such a violent gale in a thousand thousand years. I had given an evacuation order to the entirety of Avandere, urging everyone -- from the High Circle all the way down to the Red -- to take shelter in the castle proper. And I forced every Azrein -- from mountains to forests -- three days ahead of time, whether they were Good or Neutral, to go to the Grand Stables. Those that couldn't fit were placed in the Great Hall, as were all of the normal horses that belonged to everyone in Avandere." He grinned at Mira, knowing she had helped him clean the Hall for a week afterwards. "While everyone was asleep, I began the ceremony. Now, I had memorized every nuance, every syllable of this arcane language, as well as its symbols. The book had said that the creature summoned could be either benevolent or malign in nature, depending on the caster's mood." He took another gulp from his flask -- burning Fireflower liqueur -- and passed it around. They would need it for what was to come.

"I was so worried that my people, my subjects, the Greater Herd would be killed by the Six. And I was angry -- so, incredibly angry -- that my father had left me. And I loathed the people that poisoned him, and I hated my mother for dying. That was one of the worst times in my life, and I pray to the Gods I'll never have to feel that way again. My entire world had crumbled, and I was a King that didn't even know himself if he could protect his people, and I feared that more than anything." Green eyes darkened to a mossy shade as his mind returned to the day that changed everything. "This ritual was my last resort. It was either this or allow my people to die." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fighting the pain he knew was showing on his face.

"But I made one fatal error in my preparations."

Azreth glanced over at Dea and gave an apologetic smile. "I was as alone as I had ever been, darling. I didn't even tell Valdien what I had planned; I had walled myself off entirely from him and everyone else in my life."

Azreth winced visibly at Zeddler's words, all color leeching from his face. s**t. He knew? Oh, Gods. He'd definitely be getting a lecture later. He managed to grin at the stallion as he lay down, reaching over to stroke his ear for a moment before continuing.

"I made a terrible mistake, everyone. The ritual required one to light a bundle of herbs with a match. But I was so distraught and was focusing on the chant so much, the agony and rage inside of me that I lit it with my Skill." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And that's when he showed up. From the circle came a whirl of shadows and darkness, and they formed a tall man with jet-black eyes and a mouth full of fangs. He said, 'Why have you brought me here, mortal?" I was scared out of my wits. I had expected a good creature, and here I saw a demon before me." The King closed his eyes, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "And then I did the dumbest thing I could've possible done. I told him, 'You're useless to me, Demon.'" He grimaced at the group's reactions, nodding grimly.

"And this Demon was stronger than anything I could've summoned on my own. He completely shattered the shield that held him, and after that he changed some of the symbols I had scrawled on the wall with lamb's blood -- and no, I didn't kill it, which was another mistake. I had had the Cook give me the blood they had drained from the mutton earlier that evening. I should've sacrificed it myself on the make-shift altar I had made. But because of what had happened to my mother..." His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes. He paused for a moment, remembering in stark, vivid detail everything that had happened. "Anyway, the Demon told me that he could help me to win the war, to protect my people. He could give me the power I needed, the strength I was sorely lacking to help those I loved and cherished. He told me that he could do all this for me, showed me the power he had so I knew he was speaking the truth. And then he told me that all I had to do was allow him to have my soul when I died. He wouldn't kill me, he would never leave me and would protect me with everything he had, protect my people with everything he could do, and all I had to do was allowing him to take my soul when I passed on." Azreth found the strength within him to meet the eyes of every being, both human and Azrein, holding their gazes.

"I accepted and we formed a Contract. And as all of you know, when that storm broke in the morning, I had attained a butler clothed all in black who was my shadow in anything and everything I did. No matter where I went he was one step to the right and one step behind me. No matter what I did, he was assisting me and keeping me safe. That butler was the Demon I had made a Contract with." With no warning, the King reached with both hands, ripping his waistcoat apart at the chest, causing buttons to fly off. On the smooth skin of his bared chest, there was an arcane symbol, with a circle around it and skewed, jagged runes. The symbol seemed almost branded into his skin, and even now it throbbed as if it were a fresh burn.

"When I say his name, even now, when I have not seen him in months, this happens." The King's lips parted, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "Morpheus." The symbol glowed a bright red, like coals flaring in a fire, and his breath hitched in his throat, feeling a searing pain travel through him. "When I made the Contract with him, I had three conditions. The first was that he not take my soul nor allow me to die until every threat to the Greater Herd and to my Subjects was gone. The second was that I be allowed to produce an heir and surround him with people I trusted to ensure his well-being and growth." He glanced at everyone, the light from the fire causing his eyes to almost seem to smolder with flames from within.

"Finally, that he help me find the people that sacrificed my mother and those who poisoned my father. And then he was to stand aside as I personally took my vengeance and killed every last one of them." His breathing had escalated, his knuckles white from tension. His nails carved crescent-like shapes in the palms of his hands. He glanced up at the group, his face filled with nothing but loathing and hate, an expression none of them, save Zel, had ever seen. All happiness and kindness was gone from his eyes, from the set of his lips. This was the rage of a King whose power knew almost no bounds. "And I will kill them."

The King's eyes were blank, his face remained absolutely passive as Mira railed at him, the back of his head stinging. He took her anger in stride, his heart clenched tightly. He never would've let harm come to her. How could she not see that? He would've given his own life to protect her, as he would any other person on this whole Isle. He numbly scratched Zeddler behind his ears, and turned sad eyes upon Zel as the man strode forward into the firelight. He wanted nothing more than to revert to that sad, scared little boy he was once and bury his face in Zel's shoulder, and cry until he passed out from exhaustion.

He swallowed around a lump in his throat, fought tears from his eyes, and put out that mask, that facade he hated; that of the King. He took a deep breath. "Yes, Mira. I could have died. But what else was I supposed to do? Let war ravage the Isle? Let my people -- my people -- die horrible, unwholesome deaths because I was a coward?" He could feel the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. He swept a cold green gaze to Dea. "Neither or you have ever been in my shoes. It was give up myself or give up everything I held dear to me. And what is the cost of my soul compared to the lives of every one on the Isle?" He snapped his fingers, an angry shower of white sparks dropping from his hand as he fought to rein in his exceptionally-rare temper. He took a breath once more, his voice calming once more.

"No, I shouldn't have done that. There might have been another way for me to achieve the same end, but at the time, I was too broken to see it." He turned his attention to Zel, sitting with his hand on Mira's back, then to Aila, to whom he gave a small smile of reassurance. "Just as I cannot understand some things about your lives, none of you can understand things about mine, no matter how close we may be. I don't think any of you realize the depth of the trouble we were about to get in to had I not done something drastic." He tapped his fingers in a peculiar pattern on Val's forehead, and the stallion snorted, rose, and trotted off somewhere. He saw Zel narrow his eyes, clearly reading what his fingers had said. He braced himself for a mental shove from the man, but once never came. Well, Zel would have his answers shortly. The King continued to speak as he waited for the stallion's return. He steepled his fingers in front of him, gazing into the depths of the fire.

"On the night that I summoned him, Morpheus saved all of us -- all of you -- from what surely would have been the Six's final attack, back when they were fewer. Back when we were fewer. Remember, there were no more than a handful of Azrein on the Isle back then." Valdien returned, a bundle wrapped in heavy velvet hanging from his mouth. He figured Zel might really hit him for this one, but he had to make his point, to let them know he was truly out of options. Valdien dropped the item and it landed within the firelight, the velvet sliding off to reveal a smooth, sheer surface. Opaqueness swirled within the crescent-shaped item, as if thin clouds were in motion within it. He saw Zel's mouth form a hard, thin line, and the King nodded.

"This is a magical device, everyone, which the Six had planted in the Great Hall the very night of that storm. One of the Taken -- their first experiment with the process of Turning, actually, had stolen in to Avandere, walking among our ranks. And this would have leveled the entire city had Morpheus not found it." He let that sink in for a moment. "Zel was in the Lands Below doing a seminar on the Azrein, and my Skill was as yet too unrefined then to even sense the item." He tapped the outside with a nail, and the sound rang eerily like glass bells, hanging in the air for far too long. Immediately, a headache lodged itself firmly behind his temples. "This item uses high-frequency sound waves to first disorient everyone within hearing distance." He paused so they could all hear the echoes of the ringing fading further away from them, still going. "If the device were not broken, the sound would've been tenfold what we just heard." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Then it would've used the same high-frequency waves to make its molecules erratic." For those who didn't know, he explained. "That means it would've created light and heat all on it's own." He tapped the glass-like substance with the fleshy part of his finger. "Then the Alchemical compound inside would've ignited." He snapped his fingers. "And that would be it. We would be reduced to nothing but ashes. All of us. In all of Avandere."

He gave all of those listening an apologetic glance before once more wrapping up the item and tossing it to Zel, who caught it deftly. He knew he should've given it to the man long ago, but it was a piece of his past that he hadn't yet been ready to give up. "Without Morpheus finding and disarming that, there would be no Azrein. But this tale doesn't end here, for Morpheus did one more thing, something that would mean an eternity of suffering for him." Tears welled up in the King's eyes, still acutely feeling the loss of the demon who had been his friend, his confidant, for the past years. He wanted nothing more than to call out for him, give him an order to return, to take back what he had done. "He repudiated our Contract, and allowed me to keep my soul."