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The moon hung low over the Dire forest. Wolves howled hungrily. The beasts of the woods prowled their camps. A white mage flew silently through the dead trees.
Dragonus didn’t fear the heroes of the Dire. While their powers were often dark and their forms corrupted, he found several to be more pleasant company than certain heroes of the Radiant. Nobles, honoured intellectuals and others seeking vengeance could be found among their ranks and many of them could be considered powerful allies to his cause. Tonight he intended to meet with a demon that seemed to have taken a curious interest in him; calling him an angel, and claiming that he would make a noteworthy creature of Hell if he were to forego his Skywrath lineage. While he considered it largely flattery, it didn’t stop his spirits being lifted by the strange praise. Hovering as clouds swallowed the moon, he didn’t have to wait long.
A tall creature strode forward, footsteps leaving embers where he walked the earth. His skin seemed smooth, a cross between plated armour and dragon hide. Large, softly luminous horns pierced the sky as glowing eyes pierced the soul, drawing attention away from his hallowed cheeks. Even his wings were impressive in span and form, although in the Skywrath’s eyes they were also his most disjointed features; so perfectly made, yet twisted upside-down and thus useless for flight. Terrorblade seemed comfortable on foot however, as he greeted Dragonus in a resonate baritone.
“So you did come. In full armour.” He smiled, welcomingly but not entirely with mirth.
“It would be foolish to wander this far without it, especially in the dark.” A hush spread over the pair as they headed to a secluded pocket within the jungle, where they were less likely to be seen by any nocturnal patrols. They had been meeting more and more frequently over time. Strange compliments aside, Terrorblade was pleasant company. His tales of a life unbridled by the laws of heaven, hell or earth were the complete opposite of Dragonus’s strict education and the social niceties of court. It was fascinating to hear tales from the other side and, while neither would change their nature, they both understood the importance of self-control over anger and hatred, making them unlikely friends. Under the stars they conversed as they usually did, discussing battles and telling stories, querying into each other’s lives. Not every question was answered and some tactics and tales were brushed aside or danced around. After all, some secrets had to remain between such differing fractions.
“Why don’t you join with me, Skywrath? Your heart will come to be mine, given time.” Terrorblade asked abruptly, cutting into their conversation. It wasn’t the first time he’d said this but it still lodged a lump in the mage’s throat. He had proposed this not too long after they started sharing time together and, despite his insistence that they couldn’t, that they shouldn’t, the demon would still ask.
“You are still so very confident of that.” Dragonus answered carefully.
“I know a lonely soul when I see one. You hide your rage well but your misery poorly.” For a lingering moment they held each other’s gaze. “Give yourself to me and I’ll keep you well. Your vengeance will be had, and your self-inflicted torment will end. I guarantee it.” Sharply Dragonus cast his eyes down and shook his head, away from the demon’s glowing stare.
“I cannot. My heart is in the grip of another, one who I have failed. And until I have made things right, I cannot devote myself to another. It wouldn’t be right. To her, or to you.”
“That is what stops you? So, you would accept this otherwise?”
“I find little reason not to. Rather, of all the reasons to refuse few concern me beyond my duties and my revenge.” The young hero confessed. Terrorblade considered him, watching how he let his guilt settle over his pretty features like it belonged there. It was beautiful. It wasn’t the divine, self-assured splendour he had witnessed during battle, but a more sombre sort of beauty; the sadness of an untainted heart, torn between vengeful hatred and noble duty, yet clear of mindless wrath.
Stepping forward and cupping Dragonus’s cheek, he brought his face upwards to his.
“You deny this over a conflict of heart and not over my own nature,” the demon smiled. “And you wonder how I mistook you for something angelic.” Fingers curled around the back of Dragonus’s neck and brought him forward into the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds – there’s little pleasure in holding a struggling dove – but as he released the mage, he found he hadn’t struggled at all. He only appeared confused and slightly blushed.
“I said-“
“That you have a goal to complete before you consider yourself available to me. I disagree.”
“It is more than that!”
“It matters not to me. If I could break the hand that holds your soul captive, I wouldn’t hesitate to.”
“You won’t lay a hand on her!” Dragonus reared up, fury blooming over his guilty countenance. The demon held his gaze steadily.
“I don’t have your patience, Skywrath. But I can help you seek vengeance; for a price.”
“My soul?”
“No, too cliché. And I’d rather you give that to me of your own volition.” Terrorblade smirked, some would say charmingly. “For now, how about a kiss?”
“A kiss?” It was too simple. Far too innocent for a marauder to request.
“For now.”
“What else will you want?”
“I’ll decide later.” At Dragonus’s hesitance, Terrorblade elaborated. “It’s a way of sealing pacts between demons and mortals. You know I’m not a liar.”
“A kiss for your alliance, albeit temporary and occasionally tempered by the Ancients.” The mage said thoughtfully. It didn’t seem like much, but to have an ally regardless of the battle between the Radiant and the Dire was reassuring. And to have a strong hero like Terrorblade by his side in his quest to restore the Scion would certainly assure success. “I accept.” The demon withheld any victorious or smug expressions, only betrayed by a small smile which grew as he pulled off his helmet. He took in the Skywrath’s fluffy, feathery hair that was currently mussed from his headwear, completing the youthful, moonlit features of his face. Dragonus returned his gaze contemplatively, unafraid and curious. Meeting halfway, they kissed.
It was surprisingly chaste, a simple touch of lips. The moment stretched before they drifted closer. Terrorblade reached up, hand threading through Dragonus’s soft hair to grasp the back of his head. In turn he fluttered lower, pressing forward and bumping his long nose on Terrorblade’s. With a yank the demon corrected the angle of his head, parting his lips demandingly. A soft sound slipped from Dragonus and he followed without faltering, tongue meeting Terrorblade’s in a gesture that could be read as sweet. As the kiss drew on they huddled closer together, the angel encased by the demon as he stroked his cheek and chest. Gently they ceased, breathing deeply.
As the embrace ended so did their meeting. The Skywrath mage flew back to the Radiant woods, as the demon marauder strode to the Dire’s camps.