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Fantasy The Devil is Alive | Average. & Ex0_007

Average.

Goddess of Procrastination
He was running. Running, running, running. Tripping constantly against blackened roots of trees, the screaming behind him getting louder and louder. They were screeches of pain and agony, moans of despair that sent shivers down his spine. All he could do was run, yet he felt like he was running on ice, clumsily tripping and falling all over the place only to scurry to lift himself back up onto his weary feet. Only to continue running into the darkness; into the unknown. He didn't know to where. All he knew is that he needed to go forward. Suddenly he felt something grab him from behind, by the collar of his shirt, the sudden stop causing him to let out a choked gasp. It's claws were sharp, tearing through the fabric of his shirt a bit. Before he could even react, break free.. he felt his leg get grabbed. His arms. He glanced over his shoulder, only to see that they were hands, bony and frail, black as soot. His eyes widened, his heart hammering against his chest with panic. More hands would reach out from the screaming darkness that was chasing him. They grabbed him, claws digging into his skin, piercing through it. Through flesh.
They were holding him down like chains.

He was forced to his knees, forced to look up at the blood red sky. And the hulking silhouette that now stood above him. He could recognise a couple blatantly obvious features; such as the silhouette's membranous bat-like wings, and giant curled horns. And those piercing eyes that glowed like fine rubies. Like two bright coals of fire.
He felt like begging, almost. For mercy, for something... yet no words came out of his mouth. They were stuck. All he could let out was a shaky, fearful breath.
That was when the silhouette spoke, it's voice silencing everything around them.

"You're no son of mine."

...

Briar jolted awake, sitting up suddenly. He was panting heavily, beginning to shiver slightly from the sweat that was on him. He looked around, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust themselves to the lack of light in the room. The only source of light was the gentle silver moonlight, seeping in through the sheer curtains. The window was open. He could tell from the way the curtains were gently swaying with the breeze that was coming in. He felt a soft gust of it against his face. It calmed him better than any cup of tea could.

He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for now, so instead of wasting any more time in bed, he decided to get up. He felt heavy, and a brief wave of dizziness overcoming him before it went away. His steps were careful and quiet. One; because he didn't want to accidentally trip over something. The moon didn't provide that much light after all. And two; he didn't want to wake Xavier.

Their room was tiny. A room that they have rented out for the night, in some inn at the edge of the path. He remembered himself complaining about it yesterday, checking everywhere under the mattresses of both beds for any bed bugs or worse. Luckily he did not find any... or else they wouldn't have had any roof over their heads tonight.

Finally, Briar found his backpack and pulled out a sandwich. It was supposed to be for next morning, however he decided that he would have it now. At least half of it. He gobbled some of it down before putting it back into his backpack.
He allowed himself to ponder for a short moment, and slowly turned his head to stare in the general direction of where Xavier slept. 'How dare this bastard be sleeping so soundly. This isn't fair! If I'm suffering from lack of sleep, this bitch is gonna' suffer too.'
You know, because Briar was a great travel partner and all.

So, the Princeling proceeded to approach Xavier's bedside, a little more confidently now... and brought up his foot, pressing it against Xavier's shoulder. He began trying to nudge him awake with it. "Oi. Bastard. Wake up." he muttered, nudging the poor man harder when he wasn't getting any reaction from him. "I demand entertainment." Pause. "So. Entertain. Me."

Bear in mind that this behaviour was completely normal.
 
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A sense of disappointment came over him when he heard this. Where was the fun in that? Surely he wasn't expecting him to sit still through the whole night in this dump. By tomorrow they would reach the city of Cyrah, if everything went according to plan. The city was on a massive island. It was famous for it's fishing industry, hosting huge fish and seafood markets daily near their ports. However, much like most cities; Cyrah had it's downsides. It was riddled with criminals. Pirates, gangs.. all sort of criminal activity. It has been like this despite the city's Coven trying their best to exterminate these criminals. Le Cercle de la Flamme Ancienne, or the Circle of the Ancient Flame. It consisted of very talented, powerful warlocks and witches; all bound together by the Rite of Fire, a sacred rite which dates back centuries. They embrace destrution magic, despite many other Covens criticising them for it.

Briar didn't care about tomorrow. He cared about the present. About the now. He let out a huff before making his way over to where he assumed the coat hanger was, accidentally stumbling over his bag - which has been carelessly left on the floor by him. Throwing his red fur coat over his shoulders, he headed towards the window and pushed it wide open. Was he planning on leaving..? To where? It was dark outside.
It wasn't the first time he has embarked on such escapade. He often did so without even letting Xavier know where he was going, or why. It was unclear whether he didn't let him know because he simply forgot.. or because he enjoyed witnessing his guard be sent into a temporary state of panic. It was probably the latter, in all honesty.

Without saying a word, the blonde man climbed out the window, sliding carefully down the slanted roof, breaking a couple roof tiles and sending them sliding off the roof and onto the ground below. He landed onto the ground, soft moss cushioning his step. There was a forest behind the inn. He breathed in deeply the crisp air of the forest, catching a whiff of evergreen pine and fir. One could assume that he was insane, after all; mortal children would always be frightened by bedtime stories their parents told them about the Big Bad Wolf or other monsters that may be lurking in the darkness. They taught mortals to be afraid of the dark. Yet what reason was there for him to be afraid? He was the nightmare. He was the big bad wolf that mortals should fear.

After all, one does not simply fuck with a Demon.

He didn't even look back to see if Xavier was following after him or not. He headed deeper into the fog, nothing driving him forward other than simple boredom. Sticks cracked beneath his feet with every step. He didn't care who heard, or what heard. He noticed a fairy circle - a group of inkcap mushrooms, growing in an almost perfect circle formation. He has heard of the legends revolving around it. Many mortals believed that if one was to step inside a fairy circle, they would be forced to dance with the creatures of the forest until they go mad, or simply perish of exhaustion. Briar frowned, purposely stepping into the fairy circle, destroying some of the mushrooms along the way with his step. Perhaps it was a sense of pride that made him do it; he wouldn't be affected by the silly myths and legends of the mortal world. He defied them. He was beyond them. Above them.

For being an outcast... he still thought rather highly of himself.

He soon reached a lake, and finally stopped walking ahead. He figured that this would be his destination for now, even if he wasn't aware that this lake existed here before he arrived. Moonlight reflected against the water. The lake was located within a clearing, so the trees were not blocking out the moonlight as much. He knelt down slightly, dipping his hand into the cold water. He reminded himself mentally that there was no reason why he was here. It was only to kill time.

That was until Briar felt a presence behind him. It wasn't Xavier, not yet anyway. No, Xavier's presence meant safety. This presence felt different. He turned his head, only to see a pair of golden ambers staring right at him. Eyes of a beast, the King of the Forest. A wolf.
Briar blinked and tilted his head slightly. One might have felt fear upon seeing one, yet he didn't. Wolves were no threat to him, in fact many of them fled from him whenever they felt his presence near. Animals could sense whenever there was a demonic presence lingering. They understood that it was.. unnatural. Dangerous.
But this wolf was not fleeing from him.

He heard a low growl escape from the wolf's throat. It was slightly foaming at the corners of it's mouth, it's fur patchy and filthy. There was something wrong with it. Now that Briar had a closer look at it's eyes, he noticed that their whites were slightly reddened. A dark aura was starting to spill from it, black ribbons of smoke emitting from it's skin, it's ears, it's eyes and nostrils.
A smirked tugged at the corners of Briar's lips.

Prey.
 
Briar was able to catch a glimpse of his guard's silhouette before removing his red fur coat. Everything could get filthy except for that coat; he adored it, and would hate it if it gotten filthy in any way. Within a matter of seconds, his human body changed. Gone were his humanly features; his feet were replaced with large paws, canines elongating into sharp fangs. He was dwarfing the possessed wolf now, ruby red eyes staring down at the wolf as if it was some pathetic waste of space.
Dire wolf.

High ranking Demons were capable of changing their forms like this. He figured a dire wolf would be a fitting choice. Changing forms always took a hefty bite out of his magical reserve, depending on the chosen form. Yet he knew that he would be rewarded sustenance as soon as he brought an end to this filth. He would not fall to some lesser Demon. This Demon should feel honoured that he would even grant it death, that he even acknowledged it's presence.

With a low growl, the dire wolf tackled the smaller wolf, jaws clamping around it's neck. The wolf could only yelp and struggle, yet the struggle didn't last very long. A lesser Demon was an insignificant threat to a high ranking Demon - if they were not deprived of magic.
There was a slight crack of bone, and immediately the smaller wolf's body has gone limp. The dire wolf let go of it's neck, and soon it was Briar that was standing over the wolf's corpse and not a giant dire wolf.

He let out a sigh, wiping the blood from his mouth before reaching to pick up his crimson red fur coat from the rocks. ".. You didn't honestly think that I would fall to that, right?" he rose a brow. He couldn't see the lesser Demon's magical energy leaving it's body, however he could feel it. It was like water, entering a plant's veins, energising it. Feeding it life. Or like gentle waves of electricity, flowing through his body.
Better than any cup of coffee.

Yet the image of the wolf's bloodshot eyes, staring through him... it wouldn't leave his mind. There so much... hate in them. He was almost glad that the Demon couldn't speak, for if it could.. he felt like it would have cursed him with all sorts of foul words and profanities. Xavier was the only Demon that bowed to him. However.. ever since he made his choice to hunt lesser Demons for their magical energy instead of witches or warlocks... even lesser Demons - who previously would have been more than willing to lick the shit off his boots if they could - hated him. His own kind viewed him as a traitor. A traitorous vagabond who will never have a place in Hell or amongst the royal family ever again.

"... Are the inns nicer at Cyrah..?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful.
 
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He tilted his head upward slightly, narrowing his eyes at Xavier. He was almost glaring at him, eyes shooting sharp daggers. He remained silent, as if he was attempting to get his guard to crumble under his threatening stare and give in. Briar understood what his guard was doing; he was keeping information from him, teasing him like an owner holding a tasty treat in front of a dog's nose and then snatching it away as soon as the dog attempts to take it.

When it became clear that Xavier would not give in so easily.. Briar's bottom lip curled slightly into an almost childish pout. His glare softened, and he averted his gaze from Xavier's dark blue eyes, choosing to look down at his feet instead. Lately he has found himself be the one to give in most of the time. Any other high ranking Demon would accuse him of weakness.

'Lesser Demons are the ones that are meant to crack under your stare. Break them. Make them quiver in fear. Never break stare first... it's weakness. And weakness will not go unpunished.'

Those words echoed inside his head. They have been engraved into his mind. Branded into him. He had no issues sticking to them, reciting them to himself like a prayer. However when it came to Xavier... those words became blurred. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as he knew that Xavier did not see him as weak. Others would, but not him.
He knew that he should never allow himself to be like this. It went against everything that has been taught to him since the day of his creation. Yet it was.. hard not to sometimes.

Briar folded his arms to his chest and let out a heavy sigh, like a tired mother or father giving in to their child's demands. "... Fine." he muttered. "I will go back to that stupid inn." Pause. "But this is the last time that I'm giving in like this. Don't get used to it, you bastard. Next time it'll be a bitch slap that comes your way."

Well that was most certainly a lie. It wasn't the first time he has said this to Xavier.. and he has never managed to keep that promise.
Not once.
 
Briar glanced at the phone, raising both brows before turning away as if no longer interested. "Hm, yes. Anything better than here is good." he nodded slightly. He didn't answer his question however. He figured that his guard should know how he feels about this place by now. It disgusted him before and it still disgusts him now. Despite lack of rest, he would most definitely have preferred to be on their way to Cyrah by now.

He was already picturing what it would be like. He has never been to one of the Coven's cities. He has heard of their greatness, and was eager to know more. Thoughts of going on a possible shopping spree have already crossed his mind. He had a basic understanding of the importance of money in this world... how mortals use it as a way of getting what they wanted; whether it was in the form of items or services. Personally he thought it was stupid and limiting, yet if it worked for them then it worked.
However, while he did have a basic understanding of how money worked... he seemed to often forget that money was also limited to them too. He was a power Demon, yet he has still not figured out how to conjure infinite money for himself. So, despite his wishes, he needed to be a little wiser when it came to spending.

Or he could just whine whenever he couldn't buy something like a child and leave all the money matters to his servant; Xavier.

He propped his shoulders against the window sill and watched as the sun came up, painting the sky with streaks of gold, orange and purple. The bright light of the sun illuminated the irises of his eyes to appear more gold than brown.

"I heard a bit about Cyrah and how it's like. Loads of criminals and shit." he spoke all of a sudden. His tone was calm, eyes fixated on the sunrise as if he was entranced by it. "They have these fish markets, bars and fight clubs. I want to go see all of them." Pause. "And cathedrals. I wanna' see what's so special about all those different Gods that they worship. And why they're so much better than me."
 
Briar slowly stepped out of the carriage, feeling the gentle breeze against his face. He inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of the fresh salty air. The image of the sea was even more entrancing than the sunrise he has witnessed this morning. The water was a mirror; reflecting beautiful streaks of gold, orange and purple. He wanted to touch it. He has seen the mortal world's ocean before, yet he never has been this close to it. He wanted to reach out and touch it.

He took off his shoes once he reached the beach, feeling the soft warm sand under his feet. The closer he approached the sea, the damper and colder it gotten. He soon dipped his foot into the water. He almost jumped with shock at how cold the water was, yet it didn't take long for him to get used to it. He took a couple steps forward till the water reached his ankles before stopping, deciding that he would not go any further. He turned to look at Xavier over his shoulder, body pivoting slightly. "I want to go see things." he said, raising his voice to ensure that his guard heard him over the noise of the rolling waves crashing against the shore.

It wasn't a wish; it was a demand. He believed that he has made that clear with how bluntly he phrased it.

Soon the sea no longer provided him much entertainment, and he returned to shore. He left his shoes behind; assuming that Xavier wouldn't forget about them. He craved to wear something different yet equally elegant to what he was wearing now. Something more appropriate to this weather too.
So the Prince proceeded to enter the house on his own. He didn't even bother having a look around; he simply headed up to the room where he assumed that his closet would be and threw on something that suited his current taste more. A simple yet elegant white shirt which had some beautiful silver swirls embroidered into it's fabric, and some black trousers to go along with that. He dumped the clothes that he has worn previously onto his king sized bed - even his red fur coat, which he treated like the most precious piece of clothing he owned just a couple hours ago. The Prince was definitely very fickle when it came to his clothes.

Briar soon returned to Xavier. "Let's go." he said, grabbing the guard's arm and giving it a firm yank before letting it go. He was young child, eager to see new things. And he wasn't willing to take no for an answer.

They have taken the carriage back into the heart of the city, however throughout their adventures in the city they would of course mostly remain on foot.

While Briar enjoyed the salty scent of the sea.. there was nothing that compared to the smell of the city. Sweet and floral scents of perfumes which tickled his nose upon passing a perfume shop, different aromas of freshly baked pastries which even made Briar's mouth water, the overpowering smell of seafood and fresh fish the closer they neared Cyrah's famed fish marked...
His eyes were as bright as glittering jewels, wide and curious at everything around him.

He was being pulled to almost every single shop like a damn magnet; and it eventually came to a point where Xavier had to prevent the Prince from entering a store by trying to avert his attention towards something else. Money wasn't an issue... yet. However, it was understandable why allowing Briar head into every store he laid his eyes on was an awful idea. Poor Xavier would have ended up having to carry more shopping bags than a damn mule ever could.

The two of them have stumbled across a large tavern. By then, the beautiful sun was almost completely gone, and the previously pale blue sky was covered by a blanket of navy blue. Stars speckled the clear sky, shimmering like millions of tiny fireflies.
Outside of the inn stood a group of men, stumbling over each other and yelling shanties at the stop of their lungs. They looked stupid, yet at least they were happy.
Briar couldn't help but smile.

He suddenly turned to face Xavier, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. "I want to go in there."
A tavern filled with sweaty, obnoxiously loud drunks didn't seem like a very fitting place for a Prince like him. Yet Briar has made his desire to go in very clear.

Seems like there was no turning back now.
 
Briar confidently strutted his way towards the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender who only gave him an awkward smile in return. "Three bottles of Honningbrew mead and two bottles of ale. Make it quick." he said, slamming the money he owed onto the counter before grabbing Xavier's wrist and just tugging him to an empty table.

"Isn't this amazing?" Briar grinned, still unable to stop looking around the tavern as if he was in a museum. He ended up staring at a group of drunks a bit too long than he should have, staring at them as if they were some rare, unstudied specimens. One of the drunks noticed him staring, and gave him a slight glare. One couldn't blame the man for that; after all, he probably assumed that Briar was staring him down. Thankfully Briar broke eye contact at the right moment, failing to notice that the drunk was glaring at him. Would have been a shame if Briar ruined their amazing trip to the tavern in the first few seconds of them arriving.

Soon, the bartender has brought them two tankards along with the three bottles of mead and two bottles of ale that Briar asked for. This was... a lot of alcohol. Perhaps Briar bought this much because he wanted to bring some home. Whenever that would be.

The Prince eagerly poured a tankard of mead for Xavier and then a tankard for himself. One could assume that cheap ale and mead were not drinks fit for royalty. But Briar held a craving to try those specific drinks for some reason over trying something more fancy like wine for example.

Briar took a swig of the mead, practically drinking it in huge gulps, a bit of the alcohol dripping down from the corners of his mouth. He slammed the tankard back down onto the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, staring at Xavier expectantly. His brows furrowed when Xavier wasn't reaching for his own tankard. "Aren't you gonna' drink?" he rose a brow. "I didn't buy this much alcohol for me to drink it all myself, now did I."

Ten minutes didn't even pass before Briar finished his first tankard. Five minutes later; he was over halfway through his second.

Briar's cheeks started to slowly acquire a soft tint of pink; the tips of his ears too. He laughed stupidly at nothing at all and rose his tankard, clinking it against Xavier's one. "Cheers to... to... oh who the fuck cares!" he grinned broadly before taking another swig. His speech was beginning to sound slurred, and his face has gotten slightly redder.

The Prince managed to finish his second tankard and immediately reached for the bottle of ale, yet he ended up accidentally spilling it. His movements lacked care at this point; lacked any sort of grace at all. He went silent for a moment however, seeming completely careless or simply oblivious to the fact that he just spilled an entire bottle of ale all over the table. The table felt sticky from it.
He looked deep in thought, avoiding Xavier's gaze, staring into the void...

Until he opened his mouth again. And it was all over.

"... Were you arrested earlier? It must be illegal to look that good."

Oh my fucking Gods.
 
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Briar suddenly shot up from his seat. If his hands weren't braced against the table, he would have fallen face first onto the floor by now. He brought his hand up, pressing the tip of his index finger against Xavier's lips. Despite his drunken state, he noticed Xavier's clear confusion when he heard his flirt attempt. His piss-poor flirt attempt to be precise.

Perhaps he wasn't being clear enough, or perhaps Xavier expected more from him. Such logic made sense in Briar's mind, so he quickly scoured through his mind to see if he could come up with another flirt.

He completely ignored his guard's sensible suggestion to head back home. It was dark, and they were both tired. The Prince's dark brown eyes were glazed over slightly, eyelids feeling heavy. Yet he still insisted on staying. "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber."
It didn't seem like his flirts were going to get better at all. They kept getting worse and worse.

His face felt warm, and his head started feeling heavy. He slowly started to lower his head until he simply rested it against the sticky table. His eyes closed on their own, yet he continued talking. "... If you were a flower you'd be damn-delion." his speech was barely understandable anymore; it was a low, muffled mutter.
 
By the time that Xavier hauled Briar up to his room; he was barely even capable of responding. It didn't appear like the Prince even registered what Xavier said to him. He could tell that his guard said something from being able to see his mouth moving, yet what he said didn't seem to have clicked with him.

Briar slowly turned over onto his side, groaning. Upon turning over, he accidentally rolled too far over the edge and fell right off the mattress and onto the cold floor, groaning louder at the brief pain from the impact.
From this one could probably tell that there was no way in a million years that Briar was going to change out of his clothes by himself. He had no desire to try and get up by himself, and just remained there on the floor like a helpless fish out of the water.

His father would certainly sink into the ground in embarassment upon seeing his youngest son in a state like this.

Yet at least Briar held no shame at his actions - for now. Who knew what the story would be in the morning.
He wrapped his arms tightly around Xavier's leg and rested his head against his shoe. Never in a million years...
Never.
 
The Prince's features soon twisted with annoyance once he started to stir awake from his guard's voice. Blinking his eyes open, they squinted at the rays of sun what were hitting them. They warmed his face, yet it was hard to find them pleasant in any way when his head was absolutely killing him. Hangovers were the worst. His head was pounding, and he felt as if his head was a drum getting hit non stop. He slowly sat up, hair looking like a hawk's nest. Usually, Briar would be embarassed if anyone saw him in a state like this, however Xavier has seen him like this so many times that it honestly mattered little now.

He could only imagine how much worse he was last night. He hardly remembered what happened, his memory like broken glass. All he had were pieces of what happened. He tried recollecting them, yet upon his headache getting worse he simply decided to just forget about it, no longer caring.

Rubbing his head slightly, Briar looking up at his guard slowly, brows furrowing. "Couldn't he have presented us with this information before we arrived here?" he muttered, raising both arms above his head to stretch. "This aid is really starting to piss me off, if I'm gonna' be honest." he said as he slowy got up from the bed. His movements were careful and prolonged; almost as if he was worried that if he was to make a movement that was all too sudden.. he would just retch all over the floor. He was feeling nauseous, his stomach feeling as if it has been churned and twisted hundreds and hundreds of times.
In short; he felt like absolute shit. And he wanted to just curl up into a ball on the floor and stay there.
Was all that worth it last night? Yes. Would he do it again? Yes.

He made his way to the bathroom, pausing to stare at his reflection in the mirror with disgust before reaching for a hairbrush. As he brushed his hair - trying his best to smooth out that huge mess that was on his head - he turned to Xavier. He looked like he was about to say something, however he stopped himself, shaking his head slightly. He seemed deep in thought, as if once again deciding to give it another shot to piece together some of those torn up memories in his mind.

Before it hit him.

"... So when I was drunk last night.." Briar spoke. "... I didn't say any stupid things to you, right..?" he asked, with a hint of hope in his voice.
 
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Colour crept onto Briar's cheeks as he felt his face heat up from embarassment. Well.. he definitely wanted to just curl up on the floor now and disappear from view. Not only did it confirm that his drunken ass has flirted with his personal guard... it also confirmed that his flirts were absolute dogshit! He felt like he has lost every shred of dignity he had left last night. He could only wonder what Xavier thought of his own master now. He must've thought him as pathetic. It wouldn't be the first time if another Demon thought of him that way.

Grabbing a fresh pair of clothes from the closet, he headed back inside the bathroom to get dressed. He was taking extra long today to get ready, his movements slowed to the point of it being ridiculous. Perhaps the Prince genuinely didn't want to leave, and he was doing his best to prolong their time here before leaving. Funny how yesterday he was so excited to head out to see every little thing in town and now he was the complete opposite. Now, he would rather indulge in the pleasures of reading a novel rather than indulging in the pleasures of alcohol in some rowdy tavern. Why do things never go his way?

Finally, the Briar was ready to leave. He almost shoved past Xavier, out the door and into their carriage, awaiting for Xavier to follow him down.

This better be worth it.
 

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