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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
As the peculiar door of a raven’s beak shut, half-demonic senses alerted Elyn of another’s presence on the room.
“So the halfling decided to explore and winded up on the king’s hatching chambers of all places! Don’t tell me you plan to seduce him, for he’ll surely tear the chords of your neck like strips of twine.” If it weren’t for the hissing S’s Elyn would have believed it was just another human lad bullying him.
Bouncy blond curls whirled around to face the haughty demonling. “Psu’ showed me the way. And to answer your accusation, it was my guardian who seduced him, not me.”

An indignant curse wafted across the wall. Elyn’s shoulders shook as he fought a snicker. A thick lump of stone might have separated them but thoughts were louder than any spoken word for his guardian. Cinder knew fully well who was talking about him and with whom.
The laughter died in his eyes when the demonling took a step forward and gripped his shoulder very tight. “You listen well for I speak no jest.” Mordred clutched a bit harder so that his claws dig shallow cuts on Elyn’s skin.
Before the pain could fully register, the pressing weight disappeared and the demon prince now merely stared at him, studying him, waiting for him to retaliate? It was doubtful.
He didn’t move save a twitch of lips. It stung.
It could easily be Elyn’s imagination but the side of the demon prince’s dark lip curled in satisfaction but when he stared straight into the slit eyes they spoke nothing but caution... and a hint of worry?
“Really, I don’t know what malevolent child of chaos possessed Psu’senesh to guide you here. Our sovereign has not been in the best of moods lately and he has all the right to harm intruders of his territory, or have you started to think that you’re much welcome here?” He crossed his bronze arms in challenge. He wore the same haughty look when he discovered them frolicking in the mess hall.
“A warm welcome was the last thing we expected. Indeed we are very grateful to be alive and kept in the best care, my prince.” The halfling said seriously but not a trace of submission was found in his firm mellow voice.
“Bah, prince; you’re a prince here yourself! Half-demon or not.” He spat and gnashed his fangs though saffron orbs twinkled. And yet another blink and they were alight with fury. “But still that ‘title’ won’t save you from the wrath of the Father Ra’asiel’s avatar.” His clawed hand held the neck of Elyn’s tunic aside, revealing the marks he had made on that somewhat tanned shoulder.
He had moved so fast, Elyn hadn’t sensed him close the distance and only felt the delicate forked tongue licking his shallow wounds. A sudden pleasured moan escaped him and human hands instinctively clutched on bronze broad shoulders.
The other untamed hand had crept inside his clothing and made possessive purchase on soft, supple boyish skin. Careful and slow circles were massaged on his flat belly and Elyn almost relaxed, oblivious to the surroundings and was only aware of a soft purring on his ear.
A stone-scraping sound made them snap from whatever they were doing by instinct.
“My lord prince, I was afraid I’d find you here.” Psu’senesh stood by the open beak with a stern, scolding expression.
If Elyn had enough wit and not flushing and shallowly panting like some ravaged maiden he would be asking who the elder demon was referring to.
Beside him Mordred growled and uttered a harsh curse. “How come you’re all strict on me alone?” He need not gesture for Elyn to know he was being referred to rather discreetly.
“Well in that case, out of here, the both of you!” The elder demon with a pegasi horn and sharp pointy silver ears shooed both lads out of the royal chamber. Among all the demons, Psu'senesh has the closest resemblance to a human. His features were a cross between elven and demonic. He was almost as beautiful as the demi-god form of the First Star.
“That was actually my intention.” The saffron eyes narrowed dangerously. “By the Father’s wrath, Psu’senesh, stop manhandling me like some stunted whelp!” The human language of the south was almost comical in his forked tongue, the blonde boy observed in wry amusement.
But before he could protest further, bronze slanted ears perked and then drooped. A snarling, growling sound was echoing from a distant hallway and both pureblood demons froze. “It’s the sovereign’s... graskvore.” They chorused in their own tongue but to the halfling’s understanding it only meant that they had outstayed their welcome.
All three of them left through the safest route, the formal entryway from the heart of the Keep. It was the closest resemblance to a human labyrinth made of stone halls and walkways. Elyn could safely guess it was the influence of his mother that inspired the demons to make a less threatening pathway to stalk through the entirety of the castle.
But he was about to be proven wrong when the solid wall he was supposed to be leaning on shifted and the ground he planted his sandal-shod feet trembled. He was shoved hard against the opposite side before a layer of mixed limestone and slate flattened him.
Even an instant’s respite was stolen as the ground heaved open and the vertical wall simply fell away. A bronze body rolled them over to the safety of yet unstable flooring. Elyn soon found himself akin to a ragdoll tossed about in the mercy of fate without the control of one’s own limbs. His companion barely got on his feet when the stone beneath heaved again and the halfling was tugged barely upright on to a flight of stairs that appeared out of nowhere.
His wrist threatened to snap in two at the force of that grip. They raced downstairs into an unseen platform where he was dragged to stay down lest he be trampled by a sudden very low ceiling made of an amalgam of spikes and corundum crystals.
Mordred bellowed, “Move!” and Elyn used his elbows and knees in a way they have never been used before to crawl as fast as he can towards the looming exit ahead that was no more than a patch of yellow light... much like an oasis in a desert threatening to fade like a mirage.
The pureblood was right behind him and if he didn’t hurry, it would be Mordred in more peril than he and Psu’senesh vanished a long moment ago. With the corner of his aquamarine eyes now sharpened into slits trained on his companion Elyn dragged himself out of the hellhole with all his half-demonic might.
A blond head plunged first on uneven jagged stone and the halfling half-heartedly covered for protection when the walls were upon them again. Again, Elyn could barely scramble on his toes when the narrowed passage tilted enough for his foot to slip...
“Damn pathetic whelp! Do I look like your nanny-goat?” Powerful arms hauled him up, preventing his fall. Elyn would have laughed at the quirky southern speech on forked tongue if he was paying more attention to Mordred’s predicament.
The pureblood was hanging upside down using his clawed muscular feet as anchor on protruding stones to support both their weight. He was like the common cave bat handling his chosen to mate for the night. And if the circumstances have been different, Elyn would definitely be in for a ‘rough tumble’ in the most pleasurable of ways.
But the stone did crack and Mordred was abruptly cut loose from his secure perch. Without a care for thought, he cushioned Elyn with his body as they tumbled and fell hard against the haphazardly rugged hallway of the East Wing; back to disenchanted pathways at last.
Elyn was bruised, his elbows and knees were scraped but he was otherwise alright. He felt no broken bone or strained muscle but as he shakily stood up still wary of danger, Mordred remained sprawled on the cold stone, unmoving, and face twisted in a grimace.
The halfling quickly knelt beside his companion, searching his body for injuries and aches. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” He asked in parroted words often employed by his grandfather at work.
The pureblood was murmuring, hissing and groaning incoherent grazen gibberish in human ears. Panic started to well in the halfling’s chest and his hands sought to find every tender spot the harsh fall could’ve caused. It was his fault the demon prince might be hurt. If Mordred had not shielded him he would have shattered like glass... He had inherited his father’s sharp instincts but his body frame was that of his mother’s, not frail but not fall-proof all the same.
A clawed hand grabbed his bruised wrist and the pureblood lead him to the source of his aches.
Elyn grasped firm hard planes of a trim torso and flushed scarlet when his fingertips accidentally brushed against stiff peaks on both breasts. His hands were dragged down and down towards—
The half-blood snapped out of it, having understood at once and tore away from the powerful grip and glared at impish saffron orbs. “How dare you play a fool out of me!” He was still red but not from embarrassment.
He was fretting with worry for nothing! And the being who had made him turn different shades of scarlet sat up easily on his rump, laughing his head off in glee! “I never knew you cared much for me. I could’ve sworn you Do’arma’ak himself as he drove himself all over the place often for the health of His Sovereign, my father!”
Elyn smacked him with the flat of his left hand and paused when he recalled the last word uttered. “What did you say?” Aquamarine orbs widened.
“And now you accept my courtship! I am smitten!” Mordred laughed the harder and held his offended cheek like he had won a prize.
Confused, outraged and appalled, Elyn was momentarily tongue-tied.
He realized there was very little he knew of Grazenfolk customs and he might have committed two irreversible errors without his knowing.
He opened his mouth about to say something then closed it again when words left him. Elyn was unsure now but the slip of fact was swiftly committed to memory reserved for scrying later.
It was precious moments later when he realized that amusement has long died down the pureblood demon’s throat and he was watching with a strange intent... a dangerous glint reflected like hundreds of diamond shards in his slitted eyes. There was a threatening air about him and some instinct forbade Elyn to bolt or even move a muscle in reaction.
If you run, the predator is sure to give chase.
In a hair’s breath, the demon was swiftly upon him, trapping him cleverly against a nook in the ensconced deserted hallway. Elyn didn’t even feel he had drawn away much less actually moved from his petrified position. But there he was, pressed against a cold wall of rough stone.
Clawed hands carefully pried his tunic off and Elyn fought him, indignant, wary and uncomfortable. “Wh-What are you doing? S-Stop it! Damn you!” He tried to squirm away to fight off surprisingly gentle but persistent talon fingers.
Mordred deftly caught clumsy human hands and planted his mauve lips firmly on each. “Calm down. I’ll not hurt you, calm down.” The words were spoken in a very low slurring voice that Elyn thought he had misheard. “Have you not heard the phrase, ‘to lick the wounds to ease the smarting?”
The halfling knew such a phrase existed his grandfather would have swiftly countered it with, ‘every herb knows a man’s aches better than his own hand.’ The thought of his grandfather made him ache and it had nothing to do with the one flesh stirring to life due to the prowess of a certain pureblood demon prince. But Mordred did nothing but chastely press his cool lips on bruised, scraped skin and lick the little blood seeping from such small wounds.
It was innocent, the way he did it and yet... the sensations were... unexpected? Appalling? Very pleasurable? Pleasurable it was, Elyn’s scatterbrained mind finally settled on what his loins were describing.
Pleasure and more…
There was a strange heat permeating the broken skin and it felt like a warm balm was being applied on his wounds when that soft, cool tongue would lap at the little blood—
What in Astral’s name was wrong with him? His grandfather would shrink him into a lily for behaving so wantonly before a very dangerous demon!
“Stop!” His shaky hands gripped sweaty bronze shoulders and pushed. It earned him a pained hiss but before he could know why, the Halfling turned and ran.
XxX
His heart was beating so fast, his legs ached and he was not really looking at where he was going when he sharply collided with someone.
“Elyn!” Familiar arms caught him before he stumbled back.
The boy relaxed in the soothing and protective arms around him. “Am I glad to see you.” He murmured against Cinder’s richly embroidered and pearl-decorated talismanic tunic, which was oddly missing something.
“What’s the matter? You’re shaking so badly.” His guardian’s calloused hands cupped his cheeks and asked softly when their eyes met.
Aquamarine clashed with ruby. “Mordred; his behavior frightened me.” The blond head burrowed itself against his chest. Cinder couldn’t help but smile in affection. Elyn was rarely this flustered and uncertain. The young lad was usually cheeky, playful, kind-hearted, and brimmed with sage-like wisdom betraying his tender age.
Yet Elyn was still certainly a child, empath or not and the security-searching behavior brought Cinder a surge of affection and protectiveness for the boy. “I’m here. I will protect you. He won’t lay a hand on you until I allow it.”
“That’s good to hear. At least you’re not threatening to scorch him to ashes…yet.” There was a note of almost-fear in the boy’s voice and the phoenix-incarnate was certain that it was for the demonling’s sake. After all it was a cruel thing for an ethereal being to interfere on the love between soul mates; Cinder thought.
When he calmed down, Elyn soon noticed a loud sound echoing through the hallways making the very stones of their foundations, vibrate. He stepped away from his guardian’s shadow and searched the origin of the sound. “It’s coming from the throne room.”
The godling seemed nonplussed with this statement and nodded. “It’s a gong. The beating means a call to attention because I believe, we are about to have an audience with the demon king.”
As if on cue, the dark palace became alive with sounds and noises of gathering demons. As the drumming blared louder, enchanted doors clicked open and shut, live magic-fed walls parted stone by stone to allow demons with different features to pass through. There seem to be demon races as well. Demonic glyptas either roared or shrieked in Grazen language demanding answers in riddles or hollering curses to those who are strong enough to carelessly overcome their protective charms.
There were demons that have canine features with human-like bodies abundantly coated with fur of different shades. They walked in two furry legs, have short black claws on their hands and feet. Their faces either resembled a lion or a tiger because their noses protruded like snouts, have deep fissured upper lips, longer canine teeth and large luminous eyes with slit pupils. A pair of Centurions growled at Elyn but quickly cowered in fear when the phoenix-incarnate pierced them with a smoldering glare. They ran as fast as the wind and vanished through a glypta-guarded door.
The live enchanted wall directly across from them shifted then slid apart, stones rotating in opposite directions to make way for a flock of Vores, dark-winged creatures with sharp features. They seem the exact opposite of the centurions for they have flawless, milky white skin. Their bodies are devoid of hair save their heads and shins. They have long, flexible talons on their hands and feet. Their faces are almost human-like; their noses aquiline, lips pale to light peach in color, ears slanting and pointed, their iridescent eyes intimidating, calculating, and brimming with such intelligence to the degree of menacing. With six pairs of limbs these fallen angels rival the dragon-spawn in their demonic might.
The third race of demons have the strongest connection to the most ancient, the Dre’aganzd and the demon king’s elite warriors are the Dre’aganzdlings. They dominate the air and can swim as fast as the Aquarions. Their long-limbed towering bodies are covered with dracon scales protecting them from extreme heat and cold. They are ruthless and in harsh times cold killers for their survival but have the most capability to interact harmoniously with the other demon races. Their faces having no trace of scales are appealing and can easily be mistaken for a human’s. Their hair colors are often lighter in shade ranging from silver, pewter, grey, flaxen, blond, saffron, and scarlet. They have the strongest demonic sorcery and can invoke the power of the Father Ra’asiel in their magical incantations. A lone dragon-spawn ignored a sputtering glypta as he easily breached the protective spell leading to the main hallway of the throne room.
The fourth demon race having the highest affinity to water and cold environs are the Aquarions. They literally breathe water like air and have no qualms in living on land as well. Like the Dre’aganzdlings, their cousins, their slender and flexible bodies are also covered with scales to protect them from extreme cold and moderate heat. They are the quickest and most agile among the demon warriors although they fall second to the Centurions in physical power. A quartet moved too fast to be seen but Elyn felt them rush past and could smell the sea fleetingly in the air.
“Well now, I suppose you two shouldn’t be dallying here as His Majesty’s most important guests, yes?” Both the half-blood and the godling turned to the direction of that gentle familiar voice. Psu’senesh appeared behind them looking majestic in a flowing surplice as he walked casually carrying a jeweled scepter in his left hand. Among the other demons he stood out. His features were unique and he didn’t seem to belong to any of the major four races. He spoke the human language of the Old kingdom without a Grazen hiss or slur. In fact he looked frighteningly very human today.
“What is the matter? You seem to have seen a wraith ghoul.” The last word spoken appeared to have stirred something in Cinder for he suddenly clutched his head. It was a locked memory trying to break free from its horrors. Suffering unimaginable skull-shattering pain and on the verge of panic, the godling instinctively felt for his dagmast pendant. He blanched as he clutched nothing but beads.
His husband’s gift, the only link they had in this world was nowhere to be found.
“Cinder!” A young angelic voice called out to him but he couldn’t grasp it at the moment. A pair of small hands grasped him and shook his shuddering, whimpering form.
Who is it?
Who is calling me?
“Cinder!” Elyn yelled again as his guardian seem not to hear him at all. He was getting a tad too worried when shaking and tugging at Cinder’s arms have little effect to break the trance the latter was in. The elder lad was now on his knees, unseeing eyes wide, and sweaty hands fastened on a throbbing, pain tormented head. The worry escalated into panic when the phoenix-incarnate finally looked at him but no recognition flashed in those ruby eyes.
Psu’senesh decided to intervene. “Let me aid you, my prince.” The intermediary clasped the godling’s left hand, laid his scepter on the golden runes hardly visible in the skin and was about to chant an incantation when another elder demon arrived.
“Honorable One, you have kept the Sovereign waiting—” At the sound of his voice, Cinder turned and his eyes widened upon seeing Do’arma’ak. He moved away from the intermediary and the Halfling going to him instead.
“Do’arma’ak, the Dracon Wylfaera, she… She fell and I fell with her. It’s my fault!” The words leaving Cinder’s lips puzzled all three of them.
The former attendant to the avatar stiffened a fraction after sparing this statement a thought. Do’arma’ak’s brows furrowed and Psu’senesh could almost see the vault of old memories opening in his mind.
“After that I fell into the Unnamable One’s hands and Helias, he never searched for me. All our efforts, your sacrifices were for naught.” Both Elyn and Psu’senesh watched in growing apprehension as the person before them appeared to be overtaken by another’s thoughts and memories.
Do’arma’ak on the other hand seem to perfectly understand what is going on and with tears about to fall down his eyes held Cinder with such familiarity and wept, “It doesn’t matter. You have returned to us, Niccas.”
The embrace snapped the phoenix-incarnate from his trance and he looked up with clear eyes but he didn’t pull away from the demon’s hold. “Do’arma’ak, it’s time to meet him.”
“Cinder?” Elyn called softly to his guardian. The empath in him seem to half-grasp what is happening but he was wary when the brunet lad approached and ruffled his hair.
“Come Elyn, let’s meet the Sovereign.” Cinder smiled when that small brow furrowed, fair eyebrows crossed in an annoyed fashion.
“That wasn’t some foolery to get back at me, was it?” The empath asked with a pout.
Cinder’s face was sad. He was deeply troubled but hid it well when he gave the boy another bright smile. “I apologize if I worried you.”
All of his memories as the Nithaial Elimiel have returned.
“Worried me, you did.” Elyn hugged him tight. “Don’t do that again, lover.”
Astonishingly, Cinder didn’t comment. “I won’t.”
XxX
The half-blood wanted to vanish the moment they walked through the gigantic double doors of the throne room. A hundred pairs (or maybe more) of demon eyes were quickly riveted on them. Elyn felt their curiosity, their wariness, their malice, and their outrage as he and Cinder walked across the aisle lined with floating balls of fire and towards the dais where the Sovereign awaited them.
The demon king was an imposing and awe-inspiring sight, seated regally on his throne. Like Psu’senesh, his features are unique and he didn’t seem to belong to any of the four dominant demon species. His long-limbed, wiry body was covered in minute crystalline scales, matching the shade of his current environment. His face was memorable, haunting, and heart-shaped with a strong jaw. His eyes were a deep forest green in color and were boring straight into their souls.
The empath felt the churning emotions and the phoenix-incarnate’s inner turmoil as they walked side by side until they reached the dais. He had never felt such strong conflicting emotions on his guardian and he drew away before he reeled and succumbed to the force of them.
Do’arma’ak and Psu’senesh never advised them to prostrate before the Sovereign for they were not subjects under his rule. Instead they used their human customs like kneeling before one’s king as a sign of respect. Elyn risked a glance behind to witness that both demons were ranked highly enough not to bow like a toad before the demon king.
Then an odd putrid stench wafted through the air while they lingered near the dais and waited for the sovereign to speak. Elyn knew before rudely meeting the Sovereign’s gaze that the demon king was injured. And he was powerful. Even through the thick layers of gauze dipped in healing salves mixed with invigorating herbs, the scent of scorched flesh prevailed. The gauze was even dyed to match the Sovereign’s skin tone so it would be camouflaged as not to arouse suspicion.
But why? Elyn was then more curious than afraid when something close to realization flickered through the Sovereign’s slit eyes.
Who could harm a very powerful demon demigod enough to dampen his healing abilities?
And why would the Sovereign hide them? Perhaps the question stated above could unsettle the subjects of his court or worse doubt his supremacy as powerful ruler. But the empath knew that the reason was deeper than a wounded pride and a subject for doubt. After all, demons wear their wounds like victory badges and meant they had courageously taken a stronger opponent and survived. Shouldn’t he be displaying his wounds so that his people could stay on their toes and protect him from another assault? But he knew he was fooling himself for it didn’t take long for him to identify the culprit.
To make matters worse, he could smell the king’s essence on his guardian.
“Prince El’lorne, son and heir of the late King Ark’ham, do you heed?” A deep bass voice with a hint of warning spared him from his pondering.
“I…” What he was about to say died quickly in his throat when he grasped the scene before him. Cinder stood like a human shield between him and the sovereign, adapting a tight defensive stance. His body frame was tense, uncertain, and his face once again, has a troubled expression.
“King Tesh, Sovereign, why has it come to this?” Cinder’s voice was sharp, angry even. It was a kind of anger that was laced with anguish. This greatly surprised Elyn for his temperamental guardian was usually willfully angry when provoked. Now he was reluctantly irate but couldn’t help it in this situation.
“It is law in this kingdom.” King Tesh, the demon sovereign responded coolly in the human tongue. “I will repeat it for the prince’s sake for it appears he has not heard a word I have spoken.”
Cinder gritted his teeth and balled his fists.
If his guardian was busy trying to protect him from whatever the demon demigod has in store, Elyn finally noticed the peculiar ‘concubines’ decorating the king’s throne. Fourteen in all, they were ‘Cinder copies’ if Elyn was any judge and if the original was a smidgen less focused on the Sovereign he would have seen his throng of demon twins himself.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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