4. Dazirus

4

DAZIRUS

T he heavy oak door slams shut, and I'm finally alone. I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes as the throbbing in my temples intensifies. Managing this forsaken fief is draining me of my life force.

It almost makes me wish I was still locked in a jail cell. My behavior had been against the rules, but so entertaining the demon council ultimately decided no punitive measure were in order at all. Of course, all this tedious paperwork is punishment enough. Perhaps they knew that.

Scrolls and ledgers litter my desk, their contents a mind-numbing blur of crop yields, ration distributions, and petty quarrels between the lowly demons under my rule. I rake my fingers through my hair, the silver strands falling haphazardly over my brow.

"Why in the seven hells did I ever agree to this?"

When I first inherited this land from my father, I had visions of glory—leading mighty armies, slaying fearsome beasts, discovering ancient ruins. Not...this. Not overseeing stores of rotting grain and negotiating trade routes with grotesque orcs.

My crimson gaze falls upon the ceremonial blade mounted on the wall, a relic from an era when my kind was respected...feared, even. I was born for conquest, not bureaucracy. Yet here I am, a glorified bookkeeper, shackled to these dismal halls.

A familiar restlessness stirs within me, that insatiable hunger for adventure and freedom that so often lands me in trouble with the elders. My pointed tail lashes back and forth, betraying my growing agitation.

I need to escape, if only for a short while. Somewhere the stifling rules and duties of my birthright cannot follow. Somewhere...unexpected.

The human realm has always fascinated me, those fragile, emotional creatures. I've heard tales of their bizarre customs, their vibrant cultures, their fleeting lives burning with such intensity. Perhaps there lies my salvation from this mind-numbing tedium.

A devilish grin plays across my lips as I rise from my chair, the decision made. Locating a portal to the human plane will be a challenge, one sure to draw the ire of my family. But I relish the defiance, the thrill of rebellion.

Let them seethe with outrage. Their noble son will return from his sojourn when he's goddamn well ready.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I stride from my study, the thick carpets muffling my steps. The dank corridors stretch endlessly, suffocating me with their oppressive weight. But not for much longer.

"Lord Dazirus!" A reedy voice shatters the silence behind me. I turn to find Kravitz, one of my more useless attendants, scurrying towards me with parchment in hand. "You must sign this land deed before departing."

His insistence grates on my already frayed nerves. I snatch the document from his grasp, glaring at the faded text. "And if I refuse?"

Kravitz fidgets nervously. "The elders strictly require your blood seal, my lord. It cannot be avoided."

My lip curls in contempt. Rules, always rules. I've half a mind to incinerate the damned parchment out of sheer spite.

Instead, I grab Kravitz by the throat, his eyes widening in terror as I slam him against the wall. With my free hand, I draw a wicked dagger from my belt, the razor edge glinting hungrily.

"If it's blood they want..." I trail off, dragging the blade across Kravitz's cheek. A thin line of crimson blossoms, and he whimpers pathetically.

Releasing my grip, I let the sniveling fool crumple to the floor. Kravitz clutches his face as I press my bleeding palm to the deed, searing the contract with my essence.

"There," I growl, tossing the signed parchment at his feet. "Tell the elders their demands have been met, as always."

Leaving Kravitz to nurse his wound, I continue down the torch-lit passage, each step carrying me closer to my goal. The stables lie just ahead, and with them, my chance at freedom from this wretched existence.

I can already smell the musky odor of the beasts, sense their restless energy mirroring my own. No more will I be caged, a gilded prisoner to the whims of others. This hunt is mine to pursue, whatever the cost.

My blood boils with delicious defiance as I approach the stable doors. Let the sniveling attendants whisper all they want - none dare challenge me directly. I am Dazirus Kal'Vareth, and the realms shall bend before my will.

The chilly night air bites at my exposed skin as I stride from the mansion, my shoulder-length silver hair dancing in the frigid wind. With a deft motion, I swing myself atop my obsidian- black steed, its glowing crimson eyes regarding me with a hint of impatience.

"Easy, Carnifex," I murmur, running my claws through its coarse mane. "The hunt begins tonight."

I dig my heels into the beast's flanks, and it launches forward with a mighty snort. The frozen tundra of Glacies blurs past as we race across the icy terrain, kicking up flurries of snow in our wake. I tilt my head back, allowing the biting gale to wash over my face as I revel in the exhilarating speed.

"This is better," I mutter to myself with a grin, the tension from hours of bureaucratic drudgery melting away with every thunderous stride of my mount.

We weave through the twisted, skeletal trees of the Blynnfaust Forest, their gnarled branches grasping at me like bony fingers. That's when something catches my eye—a crumpled form lying motionless at the base of a glowing crimson tree.

I pull hard on Carnifex's reins, and the demon steed rears back with a shrill whinny before skidding to a halt. My heart stutters in my chest as I stare at the unmoving figure. A human? Here, and alone?

I slide from the saddle and approach with cautious steps, my eyes roving over the woman's prone body. She's wounded, grievously so by the looks of the blood pooling beneath her in the snow. Each shallow rise and fall of her chest is fainter than the last.

My heart catches in my throat, because even near-death she possesses a rare quality.

I reach out, brushing a lock of her fiery hair from her face. Up close, I can make out the delicate features – high cheekbones, full lips slightly parted as she struggles for each breath. Despite her battered state, there's an undeniable beauty about this human woman.

That's when I notice the faint glow emanating from her clenched fist. Carefully, I pry open her fingers to reveal a strange necklace or choker nestled in her palm. The inscriptions etched along its surface are unfamiliar, but they thrum with an ancient power I can't quite place. This human isn't ordinary, and neither is this peculiar talisman clutched so tightly.

I could leave her here to die, the pragmatic voice in my head reasons. She's just a human, fragile and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And yet...something about her compels me to act. That spark of life still smoldering in her eyes, refusing to be extinguished.

"Interesting," I murmur, leaning back on my heels. Perhaps this fortuitous encounter will help slake my thirst for adventure, if only for a little while.

With surprising gentleness, I scoop her into my arms, marveling at how little she weighs – a delicate thing, barely substantial enough to be real. "Let's see what you are, little human."

I carry her back to my manor at a brisk pace, her shallow breaths fanning across the exposed skin of my chest. Once inside the cavernous halls, I bring her to my private chambers and lay her gently on the large canopied bed.

My eyes trail over the extent of her wounds – deep gashes along her sides and back that would surely kill any human without immediate treatment. There's also the matter of that arrow embedded near her femoral artery. A few inches closer, and she'd have bled out within minutes.

Cradling her head in one hand, I lean over and slowly drag my tongue along the seeping wounds. My saliva glows faintly with regenerative magic, knitting the flesh back together with each pass. As I work, I can't help marveling at her fragility. Every breath is labored, every faint throb of her heart a struggle against the inevitable.

And yet, she clings so stubbornly to life. Despite her breakable form, there's an iron will flickering behind those eyes.

I brush the pads of my fingers over her flushed cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin as her chest rises and falls with each ragged inhalation.

"So breakable...and yet so stubborn," I murmur, staring at her unconscious form. "Humans are fascinating."

I sit back on my heels, my curiosity burning hotter with each passing second. Who is this woman? Why was she alone in the unforgiving wilds of Glacies? What power does that strange necklace possess?

So many unanswered questions swirling in my mind. But I'm certain of one thing – this encounter has proven more intriguing than any meaningless bureaucratic drivel.