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Simurg 2	By : Cynthermes Category: A through F > The Cronnex Series Views: 1409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Cronnex and its characters solely belong to Trewin Greenaway and no profit has been made out of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 3
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- 5
(AN INTERLUDE)
Inkwells rattled and a few parchments rolled off onto the floor as the young alchemist slumped into the nearest chair at his personal sanctorum. He can’t meet his king like this. He inhaled sharply to dispel the tears that were about to fall and regretted it when dust filled his lungs instead, throwing him into fits of harsh coughing. His lack of breath only intensified the feeling of his helplessness and Naedas finally burst into a wheezing sob.
He couldn’t even do a simple teleportation circle anymore. His feet were sore by the time he managed to sneak inside the palace. He had to walk all the way from the tunnels alone to go back and tell their monarch a complicated report. Was this the only thing he would be good for? A messenger? His body sank on the table drowning in self-pity.
He didn’t care how pathetic he looked as he was reduced to a sniveling heap. He was just so tired of pretending to be strong when he couldn’t even replicate the level of skill he harnessed in his possessed state. If he was useless as an ally before then he didn’t know what to call himself now. From puppet to complete rubbish, how low he had fallen!
Frustrated tears kept rolling down his cheeks and he furiously rubbed them away. He had to stop. He wasn’t a child. He must not resort to bawling his lungs out every time he felt unsure of himself. He survived and lived through the Dark Decade didn’t he? He should be better than this!
Well that was easier said than done. He still felt terrible and he dropped his head back into the table with a loud thump.
“Ouch!” Naedas yelped as pain exploded in his skull. He could already feel the bump swelling in his forehead: Just what he needs to look more attractive for his king. The annoyance dried his tears and he glared at the culprits who hid themselves in goatskin. He already knew what pitiful things should be shivering in fear at his infuriation but he didn’t remember leaving them here, out in the open. But one look at the undisturbed twine told him that it was safe.
Four distinctly colored crystals gave faint eerie glows, as they lay unwrapped on the table. They were corrupted fire, water, wind, and earth stones. While all the rest were destroyed by Cinder’s power, these were but a few he decisively saved. His purpose was to study them and see how much deviation had they been turned to be vehicles of destruction.
Naedas picked up the tampered firestone and observed no outward distinction between pure kinds. Well apart from the huge negative force it wields and once used could cause a lot more catastrophic damage to both the user and the receiver if not handled carefully. It could distort even the most powerful of magicks and turn that power against the caster; a feat he happily accomplished in his deranged state, according to Miermi.
Moreover, should he try to experiment on the crystals, he couldn’t risk blowing up another room after the last time he reduced the royal bedchambers into rubble. He hopes Caelas had forgiven him for decimating the tapestries the king loved so much.
He sighed.
This was getting nowhere.
He needed someone with more knowledge and experience in dealing with the elemental powers than mere alchemy. His best option just immersed himself in demon territory and Naedas was certain that he would be trapped in a tyger’s belly even before he had the wit to yell Cinder’s name.
So the other option leaves…
Porphoras.
How hard could it be? After all he just have to pry a clam open every time it would shut itself the moment you laid eyes on it.
“How I wish I were in par with those stones then maybe our principal alchemist could have flown straight from his trip to transmute me so lovingly.”
Naedas nearly dropped the impure firestone on his lap at the sound of that very familiar voice. Luckily the fastened forceps holding the crystal saved him from the burning castration. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and relief was the last thing he felt. He knew that sweet tone. It was meant to sting like a bee and not drip like honey.
He could already imagine Caelas’ arms crossed over his chest by the door and wearing an expression that could make grown men cry like babes. Well that was mostly reserved for his army soldiers, in his case that tone meant… He shivered at that incomplete thought. He composed himself and pretended to rub tears that have already dried.
He gave one last little sniffle before he stood from his seat and walked towards Caelas whose fury cooled down a bit seeing his puffy eyes. “Before you ask, yes, I was cast aside. The demons didn’t like me so I had no choice but to return here to give you a report, my liege.” Naedas willed his face to express as much hurt as he could muster and continued rubbing his eyes as to avoid looking directly in the king’s eyes. “But their rejection pained me so much I found myself here in my sanctorum when I came back to my senses. So I sulked with my instruments instead.”
“Until one hit you with a vengeance.” Caelas suddenly tilted his chin up and gave the lump a quick kiss.
Naedas nearly thought he succeeded when those navy blue orbs sharpened meeting his teal ones. “Can you say the same account like this?” The king pinned him against the door with one hand circling his waist and the other claimed purchase on his face. This unexpected move ruled out all routes of escape from such attentive scrutiny.
The principal alchemist was indignant. “You don’t believe me!” He gasped when the hand around his waist dipped lower.
“No beloved, you don’t believe yourself.” Caelas’ face was a hair’s breadth from Naedas’ own. “Now, tell me what bothers you.” Soft lips pressed against the sensitive skin of his neck.
“You’re not mad at me?” The younger man asked in a breathless voice. That questing hand was firmly kneading his clothed ass. The sensation was turning his legs into molten lead.
The king soon lowered them on the floor and answered, “I was but when I saw your eyes, the least I can do is make you cry again.” His hands were making quick work in removing the alchemist’s layers of robes.
“W-Wait!” Naedas’ breath hitched when cold night air hit his naked torso. “We can’t do this here! My colleagues might—” Ravenous lips and tongue silenced him.
“I’ll worry about those colleagues when you’ve appeased your lover right here.” When they pulled away, Caelas clutched his bare shoulders and swiftly reversed their positions, effectively rubbing his rump on his beloved’s growing erection.
Teal eyes widened as realization dawned on what his liege was offering. “But L-Love… I…” He sucked in a shuddering breath when nimble fingers tweaked his nipples, simultaneously making his member swell some more. “Mnh…” In the midst of his pleasure-fogged mind, he noticed that Caelas was still covered in his royal attire. Naedas opened his mouth to demand they be shed off but a deep helpless moan drowned the words. His king’s slippery hot opening just devoured him whole.
The alchemist’s cried out when the first shove was made.
Followed by another thrust and then another and another…
“Ah! C-Caelas…! W-Wait… Not so… Ohh…” Teal eyes rolled heavenwards in unbelievable ecstasy.
The said man had his lover’s rigid flesh as deep as it could go and frantically impaled himself with it.
“Uhh! N-Not so… f-fast!” His legs started to quiver and the familiar heat was quickly searing his insides.
Caelas abruptly tightened his passage and felt a trickle of fluid seeping out of his ass. “Darling, your sex says…mmh… otherwise.” He grasped his young lover’s hips and continued to guide them to go faster.
“Auhh…! Y-You’re so tight… I think I’m going to…!” His body began violently shaking as the intense pleasure crested on the highest peak. This time he rode his orgasm with abandon and slammed on the greedy hole that painstakingly milked every drop of his essence. Naedas chanted his king’s name over and over until he shot his last. All energies drained, he succumbed to fatigue and rested on Caelas’ broad chest.
The owner of that chest had his hands rub soothing circles on his young lover’s back. “You didn’t come.” An accusing finger poked him.
“I was trying my best not to.” This straight-faced reply earned him a pained look but the monarch was quick to gather that pouting face for a kiss. “This isn’t about your prowess in bed, Love. This is about you.”
The affectionate words sink in the alchemist’s exhausted frame of mind and despairing heart.
Their romp effectively eased the tension and shook his tangled thoughts free… no matter how lewd that sounded. A warm smile blossomed in his face and he heard his elder lover sigh in relief.
“Ah, that’s better. I was beginning to think mine are getting rusty.” Caelas shared the smile with one of his cheeky versions. Make that a lusty version; Naedas’ heart skipped a beat when the king shifted separating joined flesh and inverted their positions yet again.
Navy blue eyes deeply searched his teal orbs that were widely aware of the thick stiff flesh touching his navel just as the cold floor was pressing shivers on his back. “Alright, you have me beloved.” His thoughts were already creeping towards the alarm bells that go by the lines of ‘voyeuristic colleagues’, the ones that didn’t fall into the dungeon during the spring raid.
“Do I really?” Ebony eyebrows rose in question.
“I didn’t want to add more to your problems given the north kingdom’s hostility.” The former puppet looked away. “I’m so useless to all of you.”
“That’s not true.” His elder lover was swift to make amends but brought him little comfort.
“I’m barely half of the great alchemist I once was after Enubi ceased possession of me!” Naedas exclaimed in anguish. He raised his left arm to Caelas where the fading alchemic runes were carved. “Look, look at it Caelas. This represents the little magical energy I have left.”
The king gently held the limb by his cheek. “No love, you are mistaken. This means freedom to me.” Warm lips traced the elaborate glyphs on fair skin. “I don’t believe you are a lesser alchemist than before. In fact I sense a more radiant glow about you.”
“How can you say that when I barely made it here on foot? I couldn’t even make a teleportation circle work anymore,” was the bitter reply.
Yet the Corinthan monarch was unaffected by this. “Naedas, you have got to be the most self-depreciating person I have ever met! Think about how the mythral has absorbed your life force during your time as ‘the great alchemist’ Enubi made you to be. You shouldn’t even be up and about the day it was removed so quickly!”
Just wonderful, his liege who momentarily wanted to be in par with elemental stones also appears to covet Porphoras’ previous position.
A bark of laughter issued forth that aspirant grand alchemist.
Now he was being laughed at? He couldn’t put up with this any longer!
“Beloved, your body is adjusting to the change! It’s conserving the new energy produced and will continue to do so until you’re healed enough to use your life force to such an extent.” The next rapid set of words dispersed the gathering storm. There, beaten by a not-really-an-alchemist. He must be losing his touch not to figure this out himself. And how can he forget that this man who is currently nuzzling his neck like a kitten (big bearded kitten) is a wizard. “Hmm… how about a warm soak with me? I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Says the man who won’t get off me on the floor! Carry me already!” Naedas complained.
“Yes, my queen.” Caelas instantly lifted him off the ground.
“What did you call me? !” The ‘queen’ suddenly stiffened as something prodded him down there. “Tie up your braes for goodness sake! Some modest king you are!” His cheeks practically matched the firestone’s color.
The king only hummed to himself in reply.
XxX
Slitted pupils traced the antsy pair of clawed feet that seem unrecognizable in the absence of calm. The minder watched with growing anxiety as their sovereign paced back and forth, wearing a disturbed expression and muttered a mix of human and Grazen gibberish under his breath.
The Avatar would pace, pause, mutter, frown, and ultimately slap himself repeatedly after then start again creating a cycle; a cycle that was slowly grating on Do’arma’ak’s frail nerves. The former attendant to the Avatar of Ra’asiel had never seen his lord behave this way before. Not even during the red lunar nights when he must make personal obeisance to the Almighty Ra’asiel did Teshnar’ad succumb to… nerves. So what mere lad and child could unsettle the demon demigod enough to keep avoiding them like the plague?
Said lad and child waited patiently on the supper table laden with food. While the child helped himself generously, the lad barely touched his empty plate. Brows furrowed, Cinder was in deep meditation. The ethereal force from Pandaemonium seem directly channeled towards Visfern; something that was not at all surprising since Ra’asiel’s influence in demon territories could only be so great.
A sigh of satisfaction made the godling crack one divine eye open.
Elyn who was seated right across from him had his lithe boyish body pressed against the front cushions of the chair. (The demonic furniture was used in reverse to the human sort. The backrest was missing and a resemblance was instead placed in line with a sitter’s torso.)
“Filled all the nooks and crannies in your belly, Elyn dear?” The brunet couldn’t help but tease that face sweetened with contentment.
“Hardly. I’m so exhausted to lift my hands for another helping. Your dragon friends have no mercy!” Elyn gave him a swift accusing glare and wriggled in his chair to ease the tenderness in his rear. “I might just fall asleep right here, in this backwards chair.” He cradled his blond curly head on top.
Cinder chuckled. “Do you know why they are in such a design?”
“So it could pass for an upright bed?” A muffled drawl came forth that visible mop of coiled locks.
This time, the godling burst into fits of laughter. Poor Elyn, he looks just about to pass out from his first dragon ride. “No,” He managed to breathe out.
“If you didn’t notice why you were made to ride in front then I’m not surprised if you didn’t figure this one out.” The brunet lad quickly evaded the huge lump of meat that would’ve smacked him on the face.
“Yes, I’m sure Lord Hvergel’mir wouldn’t appreciate me sitting on his tail. I’m not that daft, dragon boy!” Another flew right next to the first and this one narrowly missed Cinder.
“Since when did you have a temper?” The ‘dragon boy’ grabbed the nearest fruit and abandoned his chair, hearing a ‘splat’ the second he did.
“Ever since I became an orphan and my ‘foster parent’ doesn’t seem to be much of a role model.” The blond child said mock-bitterly and armed with a stack of leftovers chased his moving target around the dining area.
Cinder unhurriedly picked out the fishbone stuck in his hair only to be replaced by a couple more. “Didn’t your grandfather tell you not to play with your food— Ouch!” Cornered and unwilling to retaliate, the elder lad covered his face as he was showered with more scraps of their supper.
“Tygers,” Splat!
“Play,” Another splat.
“With,” Oh that missed.
“Their” Yes! That hit the spot.
“Food!” There was no more to grab and throw but Elyn launched himself as the final volley and knocked Cinder down the stone floor with him. “I’m seeing something a tyger just coughed out.” The one on top giggled and raised his face to peer at his handiwork.
A move, Elyn soon realized was a very fatal mistake when a flash of moist red caught his eyes. That object held in between Cinder’s fingers paused at the corner of his lips.
“Hmm, judging from this,” Cinder poked him with it. “Tyger’s size, swallowing me whole was not the best option since I’m a lot bigger than his belly. But I daresay there is something missing.” He said nonchalantly as he smeared the boy’s mouth messily with the red fruit. “There, a blood-thirsty predator.”
Elyn practically growled in such… an adorable quality that could’ve scared a fly when a drop of juice fell in his open mouth. “Mm, sweet.” He licked his lips. “What is this?”
“A bloody berry. Only a human couldn’t have guessed that.” A haughty voice made the snuggling pair look up. Due to the unmistakable timbre and language used, a young demon that could’ve been Elyn’s twin save his bronze ringlets, deep tanned scaly skin and slit saffron eyes stood before them. Cinder quickly noticed the demonling’s comprehension of their earlier conversation.
But before the godling could open his mouth, Elyn pulled away from his grasp and was right next to the demon fledgling in a blink of an eye.
Cinder was almost afraid Elyn would try his temper on this one too. But the halfling did nothing but stare at the pureblood that backed away a little and blurted, “Y-You’re not—” The rest of the words were forgotten when the two younglings locked eyes and instinctively touched hands.
Divine ruby eyes watched as both children emitted a beautiful light together. It faded when the pureblood snapped from his trance. “Let go of me!” He tore his clawed hand away from Elyn who equally jerked from the loss of contact.
The halfling blinked and was suddenly confused why he was standing beside a stranger instead of his friend.
“Now I know why they spared you. You’re half-demon!” The pureblood pointed an accusing talon on Elyn. He then whipped his dark bronze head on Cinder’s direction and those saffron eyes narrowed on the stone dangling down his chest. “That’s a dagmast pendant. How come you have one?”
The one in question wasted no time and planted himself in between two younglings who surveyed the other like a bizarre object. “Before I answer your question, may I ask who you are and how come you keep using your native tongue when it’s obvious in your soft undertone that you can speak our language as well?”
The pureblood was thunderstruck. The regal aura he carried around himself earlier palpably dissipated. The single expression plastered on his face showed too much of his youth and inexperience even for a demon of his rank. It took several tries to open his mouth and when he was able, uttered a piercing cry that the godling was certain to mean “Attend!”
Almost immediately a pair of adult demons responded to his call of distress. They dropped on their knees in front of the demonling and chorused in a harsh rasp. “My lord prince, how can we be of service to you?”
“Who allowed these two misfits in the kingdom and be given the honor of a banquet?” The demon prince demanded in the most intimidating hiss he could muster.
“I did, Prince Mordred. In fact, we owe Lord Ci—” The godling gave the intermediary a look and the receiver balked despite the food stains. “We owe Honorable Cinder and Elyn an audience from His Majesty since this morning.”
Only the dragon spawn and the dre’aganzd were given the unwitting freedom to address Cinder as the Lord of Tartarus and Consort of Almighty Ra’asiel. The other demon lords who managed to identify the Phoenix-incarnate and dare to say his name aloud without permission were risking the wrath of Pandaemonium’s connubial. Perhaps the demon king has recognized him? It was hours past and the current headship of Visfern has maintained a self-effacing persona. “Our sovereign has agreed for an audience but His Majesty demands for you, Honorable Cinder to meet him alone.”
“There is no way I am spending more time with this halfling!” Mordred snapped his jaws in absolute irritation and stormed out with the servants but not before giving Elyn a last furtive glance. Cinder’s face nearly split into a grin and he could only wish Miermi were here to see his grandson claim his first genuine admirer.
“Perhaps the boy should wait in the late king’s chambers where I can at least tell him a little about His Majesty and his father, King Arkh’am.” The intermediary offered.
From the moment Cinder and Elyn had set foot inside the black palace, the intermediary knew at once that their long lost prince, half-blood he may be has returned. He had embraced the curly-haired boy like his own hatchling and announced that a feast be prepared. Like Lord Hvergel’mir, most demon lords had learned the human tongue not only out of necessity in battle but because their king had chosen a human mate to be their queen.
It was Mabelle’s legacy and a sign of a new era where humans and demons have almost reached an understanding.
Almost.
At that time, The Great Wheel hasn’t turned on Almighty Ra’asiel’s favor hence the Mother Goddess; the Blessed Gesryma saw to it that Her grave displeasure showed against the intimate union between human and demon.
Miermi and Mabelle were aware that their patron goddess had never truly found harmony with the People of the Egg ever since Her own marriage with Almighty Ra’asiel acrimoniously ended. And there was “nothing more frightful than the wrath of a scorned woman especially if she is a goddess.”
Thus, for the safety of the queen’s unborn child, Mabelle and Arkh’am were forced to part. But between the two, the demon king easily fell prey to the deathly claws of loneliness and soon succumbed to Astral’s hypnotic calling.
Elyn quickly fell silent. His slender hands had reached down to the rune dagger and started fiddling it distractedly. Like his grandfather, his angelic face was now shuttered like a mask. His aquamarine eyes stared at nothing, his ears heard no sound, and his body was rigid, like a statue. He appeared lost in his train of thoughts as they processed events that were taking place too soon like a fast-paced dream.
All his life, he knew nothing of the man who gave him life. His mother never mentioned him in his presence and every time he would open his mouth to ask, his grandfather gave him a look. That look would rob him of his courage and even strip harmless curiosity. It’s as if those eyes were telling him that if he would dare speak of a blasphemy, it would shatter the last of his mother’s resolve to… carry on and burry a love so deep so that the other would survive. By the gods, his mother… if she were alive today…
No.
He stopped fiddling.
There was little use in reliving the past and tormenting oneself in the possibilities that have long gone.
Both the intermediary and the godling watched the soul behind those aquamarine pools break the surface and returned in sharp focus. “Sorry, I must’ve dozed off with my eyes open.” Elyn said sheepishly and the brunet knelt resting both palms on his young thin shoulders. The boy looked on to Cinder’s worry-filled eyes and leaned to kiss a dark-fringed forehead. “I’ll be fine. Go meet the sovereign.”
“And you?” The brunet asked the meticulous pair of hands raking through his scalp most probably removing the food stains.
The fingers paused, and the elder lad felt the smaller body’s nearing warmth. Shoulder-length golden curls rest atop dark locks. Elyn was holding him in a quiet embrace. “Call me weak, but I’m not ready to meet the ghost of my father as much as the sovereign does to yours.” The empath’s cheek touched the crown of his head as he whispered these words.
They part and what stands before Cinder was the same boy who can read the emotions of those he didn’t need to lay his eyes on. “I’m going to wait for you right here while you chat with the sovereign.” Elyn said as he plopped back into the chair. Gone was the momentary knowing look of wisdom that betrayed his age. “I’m sure Psu’,” He informally addressed the intermediary, “wouldn’t mind to keep me company.”
The godling relaxed seeing the perky side and the childish pout back on the boy’s face.
“If that is what my prince wants of me.” Psu’senesh replied then turned to the phoenix-incarnate. “But would Honorable Cinder find his way alone in this maze of a palace?”
Cinder shook his head maintaining their guest-host façade for unwanted pairs of pointy ears and slitted eyes. “Lord Hvergel’mir informed me earlier to meet His Highness in the ‘Hatching Chamber’. Unless someone other than you guides me to where that place is, I’m afraid it might take me months to locate it.” His finger embarrassingly scratches the side of his cheek.
Elyn gave him an inscrutable look. What was this ‘getting lost’ fuss all about? He would bet his sore ass that Cinder could find the sovereign to wherever pisspot he dares to hide with his divine eyes closed. But that wouldn’t be very… human, would it? Even his demon instincts were muted when he tried tracing the presence of the reigning demon king.
At that crucial moment too timely to be a coincidence, another elder demon makes his attendance known. “Good health to you, Honorable One. I am called Do’arma’ak and His Highness, King Tesh has asked me to guide you to Him.” The new arrival stiffens when Cinder readily meets his slitted gaze.
The former attendant to the avatar of Ra’asiel instantly knew why the lad who so much resembled the sovereign’s late beloved turned the tyger-killer into a fidgety turtle.
“Do’arma’ak, I am indeed honored to have an audience with His Majesty.” The way his name was spoken humbly but formally without a hint of familiarity puzzled the minder more.
Even Dionis who was normally so polite could at least give him a toothy grin or a timid smile perhaps. The absence of the wizard Lyreas confirmed that this lad couldn’t possibly be the last Nithaial Elimiel.
Therefore, if this lad who looks exactly like Dionis, isn’t Dionis then who could he be?
He couldn’t be…
But there wasn’t even a trace of recognition.
“I’m afraid we have gone that way before, Do’arma’ak.” The lad’s voice jolted the demon from his musings. The minder looks on ahead to discover the same hallway leading to the west wing, away from the dining hall from where they had come before. They must be circling the same walkway several times now without his knowing. Their guest must think he is trying to lure him into a trap.
“I highly apologize, Honorable One. I believe I have none to blame but my own exhaustion. Please don’t take offense.” Half-baked excuses were the only things he could come up with, much to the elder demon’s shame. Do’arma’ak should have prepared himself better. He couldn’t even keep a straight face when those ruby eyes put him under their careful scrutiny.
Cinder watched as the elder demon not so discreetly averted his gaze when he bluntly spoke, “Do I remind you of someone Do’arma’ak?” The former Nithaial was supposed to be used to it by now.
The demon flinched, completely caught off-guard. But before his heart leapt out of his fanged mouth, he struggled to compose himself and stuttered, “N-No, no, Honorable One.” His bare scaly shoulders sagged upon the blatant disbelief apparent on the lad’s face. “Please, just follow me and don’t ask any more questions.” He added hesitantly as a last resort.
Determined to maintain his mediocre persona until he finds level ground with the demon sovereign, he quickly concedes to Do’arma’ak’s subtle plea. “Alright, but please call me Cinder.”
His guide offered a hesitant nod.
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Simurg 2