Azure and Crimson, Magical Girls of Light: Season 2
Prologue
In the realm of shadows where demons click and clatter with claws on rock and wear skins as raiment, the worst legion of them all are the brutish Klormok clan. The beasts wear their scars as honor. The lower ranks are cluttered with the residues of killing, feasting, and birth—a scatological testament to their reckless abandon. Amid the skittering, eyes turned to a solitary figure approaching. It was shrouded in dripping darkness that not even their eyes could penetrate. Unable to understand whether or not they could rip it to shreds, they watched quietly.
Underneath the shroud of darkness, a young demon who walked upright like a man held tight with nervous slim fingers to the umbrella that kept impenetrable darkness dripping about him. Earnest B’logthshlok forced his eyes onto the stone sliver that showed him where he walked. He knew he couldn’t show himself until he’d passed the lower castes and made it to the higher demons. But even those he could not deal with until he was in the presence of the king. If they knew what he planned or even who he was, he would have been ripped to shreds in moments. Of course, being ripped to shreds as a demon in the demon realm wasn’t an end. It was more of a hard reset. Everything that he’d learned would be gone and he’d reform. But reforming as a green demon in the black kingdom meant he’d probably be in for a few eons of being ripped apart before making it back home. He could not afford that with so many important plans set in motion.
A member of the upper caste smiled baring sharp teeth from the gate as it saw the darkness approach. It ripped a lower demon out of the gears. It’s skull no longer impeding the gears, the mechanism began to turn. With a creaking yawn, the gate to the King’s Castle opened. Earnest took a deep breath and stepped in.
The upper echelon of the demons of the Klormok clan are held together by the King and self proclaimed Demon God Chaomord. His power in this realm remained undisputed for centuries and rarely ever did he get visitors from the other legions. His gaze was not stilled by the shrouded dripping darkness. Nor were the other demons quieted, their gibbering speculations surrounded Earnest with a vague menace.
Chaomord silenced them, “Show your face in my presence, meatsack.”
“Great lord Chaomord, if it pleases you I would speak to your greatness in private away from prying eyes.”
Chaomord sneered, “I am not pleased to ask twice. Shrouded cowardice is not rewarded.” Some of the generals closer to the demon king studied him. None had yet challenged him, not in ages, but yet they eyed him closer than they eyed the blackness. Chaomord noticed the attention. He raised his twisted arm forth to the inky blackness. At the demon king’s command the inky blackness started to bend toward him, but only slightly. One of the demon generals sneered a slight smile.
Earnest saw it as well, the shroud held, giving him a key piece of information he could not share that moment. He shut out the magics and feigned a grunt, flinging the umbrella towards the feet of the demon king miming as if it had been ripped from his grasp. Looking up from his hands and knees he made eye contact briefly with a shocked looking Chaomord. It showed for only a flash before he switched back to the mask of confidence.
“Oh great king, I am sorry, I beg your forgiveness. Your power was always a thing of legend, truly for piercing the veil you have the wisdom and vision of the most high and the power of the most vile, great Demon God.”
“A green supplicant in my court! Ho beasts, look at this one. It is a fitting place for you, green: On your knees before the Red Court!” The beasts who’d been watching the king had turned back away and low looked upon the kneeling green demon.
The demons of envy were a strange bunch, wearing clothes like the white demons of vanity, but never looking upon themselves. This particular one was an true oddity, as it wore strange garments of purple. It looked like no hide of any beast they’d ever seen in the demon realms, hardly at all like something he would have slain. Not even a hint of skull of talons to be seen anywhere! A human might have mistaken it for an Indochino custom made suit, single breasted, and well cut with a shiny pink button down shirt and tie to match and hot pink suede shoes to complete the ensemble. Fashionable and well cut, if a little gaudy for the less flamboyant. But in this realm of demons it was an abomination.
“What in the Seven Hells are you wearing? I would kill you, but I am not certain I can stop laughing long enough to do the deed!”
“I know, my birth brood told me it looked like a Hurogloth had plhegmed onto the corpse of a flattened human and covered it in dried Drachma dung before I put it on.” The demon cohort laughed viciously, so Earnest continued, “But they were wrong, it was Belthma dung!” The demons laughed, and a few flung their very own personal dung, though nothing seemed to hit the young envy demon.
“Silence,” Chaomord grunted both to the visitor and his court. “What else can you say to keep me entertained. Tell me, then I’ll kill you.”
“You mean, or you’ll kill me?”
Chaomord shrugged.
Swallowing, Earnest raised his voice, “Great Chaomord, I bring you a gift, knowledge of your future.”
“The future? The power of foresight is not of the darkness. A truth does not come to the darkness with ease. It must be wrested from the corpses of the light ones! You can not have met a light one!”
“Nevertheless, great King, I bring you this gift. If your great eminence would allow me, I would speak it to you in private.
The king rose slowly. There were a great many ways for this to end. He could turn and let his cohort rip Earnest to shreds. He could demand the prophecy be spoken aloud before the court. He could call the bluff in many ways. Sickening fear gripped Earnest, not for his life, but for risk of the plan. The pieces clicked into place. Chaomord’s fanged grin opened, “Come to my chamber, young one. The rest of you can have what is left.”
The chamber of the Demon God Chaomord opened above and below in ziggurats with torment devices chained to the ceiling and strewn about the various levels. Much of the room was only reachable through inverted climbs. Earnest turned his eye to the top of the ziggurat that formed the ceiling to see the porthole and smiled quietly.
“What do you want green,” he spat the question with an anger and resignation.
“Great King, I only wish—”
“Do not patronize me. We speak plain here, do not presume that I am so simple to be moved by flattery. You and I know more. You have leverage in what you know and what you have kept hidden.”
“Your weakness.”
“I am not weak,” murderous eyes drove his point home, designed to chill the green demon in the flamboyant suit into silence.
He did not coware. Instead he stood steady and calm, “But you are also not as strong as you once were.”
“Don’t think it means you are safe. Here away from the cohort, where eyes can’t see the strain, I can still crush you.”
“And I still have a True Prophesy to give you.” The words gave Chaomord pause. He could not fathom that it was true, yet there it was. Even though the green had no reason to pretend, no show to make, he still offered the thing of value.
“Then speak in exchange for my gratitude.”
“Your gratitude is not worth what it once was.”
He bristled.
For a moment Earnest wanted to ask him to show it to him so he could see that precious thing that was the reason for all the planning. But to ask would be to tip his hand and to tip his hand surely meant dismemberment. Instead, he pretended to capitulate, “Safe passage to the greens and a boon is my price.”
The King smiled, “You are wise. You know the limits of your position. I accept.”
“Alrighty then. Tonight, your head will lie in my hands, your kingdom ends, and you will meet a True Death.”
Fury blew through Chaomord’s visage and he threw off his robe brandishing four claws on as many arms, “Insolent worm! You lying grub!” Chaomord threw a rock the size of a man at Earnest, but the demon raised his arms and the rock veered off course to crash next to him. “You will die!”
“You know that’s not true. You heard the words, you know it to be true. You are waning, God King,” Earnest spat out the last two words with a mocking disdain that further enraged Chaomord. He pulled up his hands and forced out a shield that the weakened King slammed into. Again and again he slammed into it with fury. Once upon a time the king would have easily crushed this barrier, but he was clearly drained. He was only as strong as a normal high demon. They had been right, he had been hurt in the other realm. The feast of power had not come and the King was vulnerable!
Above them both, the porthole was darkened by a figure entering. A demon of the upper caste adorned in battle gear climbed down. “King Chaomord, I heed your call.”
Chaomord grinned, “You time has ended liar. I am still heeded by my demon brethren.” He turned to the new arrival, “Zhethregar, this green bores me. You may rip him to shreds.”
The upper caste demon jumped down from the ceiling, slamming down on stone between the King and the green. Zhethregar drew his weapon, a blood talon, “I may.” The King did not understand the strange turn of Earnest’s face, from strain to relief until his lieutenant turned and struck him in his chest. It pierced the skin and the demon cackled in delight. He entered a frenzy of attacks, a bloodlust in his eyes filled with the ecstasy of his betrayal.
Earnest turned away to not see the horror show.
Chaomord spoke no more as Zhethregar tore through him. “Weak King! Had to see it to know! Death to the weak! Mine, mine, the kingdom is mine at last! Eons! Eons I’ve waited.”
“Remember,” Earnest chastised him, “Don’t break the skull.”
There wasn’t much indication that he listened. Still, Earnest wasn’t worried. Zhe had made the deal, he opened the gate, and he came to the chamber on time as planned, ready to enter. As expected he revelled in glory of the kill, ichor dripping from his bone hilted blood talon.
“Ah, very good, just allow me,” taking care not to get too much ichor on his attire, Earnest took up a blade and sawed through the neck. There truly is no way to not get your hands dirty in the former Kingdom of Chaomord. He held the harvest in his hands and smiled, “You’ve held up your end, now for the finishing touches.”
“You must hurry, others will come soon. Make a gutted corpse!”
Invoking magics he’d long prepared, Earnest cast his spell and summoned pieces of a body in a purple suit torn to match. It was mutilated enough that it would be hard to discern that the pieces didn’t quite match up, but it’s essence was his. The vanquished body of the intruder lay between them. Finally, one more casting and a helmet transmogrified into a drained husk of similar shape to the head of the God King.
“There you go, Zhethregar. Your kingdom restored, you only need to play the part,” Earnest couldn’t care any less about the politics that would surround them soon. He reached inside the skull of the old God King to draw out a pulsing stone and smiled. There it was, the completion of the first act. The stone that would grant him to power to move between worlds. The Conduit was in his hands.
The Zhethregar turned back to Earnest to bid him hurry and run, but the Green was already gone, disappeared without a trace. He smiled and when the doors broke open he spoke his lines.
“The King is slain by the Green who sought his throne! But we will not be ruled by the Green! The Kingdom is restored by my hand!” Zhe envisioned this moment for many ages. He smiled in the glory of it. But he was not the only one to covet the throne, and he did not inspire the fear that the God King had. The violence started. Hosts of brethren descended upon him to kill, to feast, to avenge and more. The king’s chamber descended into chaos and as his body was torn asunder, Zhethregar wondered if the green had known this would happen all along.
Two weeks later, in the world of cars, rain, and ice cream sundaes, night was falling in Miami Florida. Flashes of thought, images of lips, fingers, hands, fluids, ecstacy jolted like static through a cloud. It had no form, only thought. This darkened invisible energy was spreading, dissipating, becoming less coherent. Until one day it was nudged. How could it be nudged, when it had no form? Yet it was. The cloud was gathered in unseen nets moved by unseen hands until the dark energy found its flashes turning into memories. Desires gave way to yearning; aching yearning to touch, to feel, and to be.
“Hello primal,” a voice, like a far off echo. He sounded different, clearer than the muffled blurring she sensed about her. As though he was connected to her, tuned to some unknowable frequency, it honed in on him and his voice.
“Primal?” Words. She understood the concept of words. And names. Was this her name?
“You were dying. Do you know what that is?”
Death, horror, silence, oblivion, she understood those concepts, and suddenly knew fear. “Yes.” The terror in her thoughts gave a cold shudder through the very real air.
“Do not fear, child. I am here to help you. To guide you, in fact.”
It did not speak back, only felt the warm embrace of his magics as they gathered her energies up in a warm cuddling embrace. Her thoughts grew clearer and clearer.
“Do you wish to be?”
Desire, touching, hearing, tasting, lust, “Yes.” Hope.
“You are not yet become and I can not make you. But I will show you how you can be. I will bring you to Her.”