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He was never a child. That at least was a fact, but facts have little meaning when time constantly morphs them with all the ease of a salt sea. Memories faded and frayed at the edges. Unfortunately, that didn't always apply to Barbatos.
On the contrary, he viewed the past with crystal clear lens. The past had more clarity than his reflection staring back at him.
And he was never a child. No he was a being borne from necessity and urgency for control. Demons were created in various methods: Angels who evoked God's wrath and fallen, the inter-course between demons and/or other beings, and from the intense desire of mankind. Barbatos was created from fear, the fear of lack of control and losing memories. Humans were sentimental, like that.
His birth was anti-climatic. No wailing or demons gathered at his sudden existence, just his naked body, slick with blood and sand tickling his bare back. Fear breed blood. Blood. Yes there was a lot of that. And he desired nothing more than to wipe it away. Even freshly born, he detested filth with a passion.
Sticky. Sticky. Too sticky.
For hours, he laid on the sand, helpless and innocent as lamb, though he was anything but. Then he made his move. Grown limbs tapped and fumbled on the dessert sand, with all grace of an infant. Finally he stood up.
He recalled his birth with the bashfulness of attending a public event with an ill-mannered, rowdy uncle.
After that both humans and demons had...used him, but such memories were pushed back, in favor of the little one staring at him. He was dusting a bookcase in the East wing's study when the little one, Diavolo, peered up at him from the door. Out of all the King's off-springs, this one had the most promise. Lord Devil didn't need to declare that when Barbatos had first seen the lad.
"Ba'bas..." He tugged his pant leg, his round fingers pressing into the soft fabric.
His milk teeth were gone, leaving a gap in his gummy mouth. The young master slurred and stumbled at the syllables from the absence of his front teeth.
Barbatos bent down to his young master's level. Diavolo preened at the attention. The little one demanded attention and Barbatos was more than pleased to provide just that. Perhaps he was spoiling the boy a tad bit...But he was still at an age in which praise and affection was necessary for his well-being. Nourished soil was what kept a sapling, battling the heavy rain of adulthood, alive and healthy.
"Caan ve hav' a tea pa'ty?" Diavolo asked with the tilt of his head.
" Certainly, what tea would like today, young master?" Barbatos nodded.
Sweet teas was the young master's selection. His favorites were classic milk tea with a pinch of honey and three tablespoons of sugar, strawberry tea, rustic chocolate tea and orange tea.
He shook his head.
"Nuh-uh! Ba'bas I'll make tha tea."
Barbatos simply blinked at him. The young master was never afraid to explore or try new things ( well vegetables were an exception.) He was always hatching up plans and ideas that left Barbatos a bit...disoriented to say the least.
"Young master, let me. The stove is off-limits for you." Barbatos replied.
"I know I know! But I know how ta make cool tea," He took his hand.
Diavolo's peered at him, pleadingly, like a kit denied his cream.
"Young master..I can brew some iced tea if you wish." Barbatos
"Pleas' Bar'ba!" He clutched him tighter, " Pllease?"
Funny how Babatos could resist the anguished pleas of the eternally Damned, but not his young master's whining. Perhaps he was growing soft with age?
"Alright, I would be delighted to have your tea, young master," Barbatos nodded.
"Yay!" Diavolo's eyes lit up as he gripped his palm.
Barbatos let himself be dragged. A smile curled further out as his young master led him to his playroom. His tiny hand was warm as a firefly against his gloved knuckles. Barbatos often clung onto whatever interested him. And that applied to the young master as well. There was never a dull moment while on his beck and call.
They finally reached his playroom. A low table stood at the center, surrounded by an assortment of stuffed devil bears and colorful, lumpy bat plushies. Barbatos took a seat while the young master went to his little kitchen set. Barbatos was the one who chose the toys and play set . The King couldn't bother less. He was more focused on raising a monarch rather than a child. It took some convincing on Barbatos' part for the arrangements.
Playtime improves leadership skills. The Devildom's citizen will soon be his pawns when he grows up...Why not start early?
Diavolo poured some water into his ceramic tea pot while Barbatos waited for him.
He added strawberries Barbatos had crushed for his late morning snack. Leaves ( certainly not tea ones) were dropped inside. Then paint. Brown, ( thankfully non-toxic ) paint was mixed into the questionable concoction.
With a proud hum, Diavolo poured his 'tea' into the small plastic cups around the table.
The young master looked at him, expectantly.
Barbatos took a sip....Interesting taste. Not altogether unpleasant, surprisingly. But...a taste that needs some adjustment to.
"Ya lik' it?" Diavolo sipped into his own cup.
Somehow he drank his cup with ease.
"I do.." Barbatos gulped his tea.
Sour? Sweet? A mixture of the two, but not exactly.
"Tha's gud! " Diavolo clapped with a satisfied grin.
" Also if you don't mind me asking, what spurred you on to make this for me?"
"Spurred?" Diavolo tilted his head.
Ah he was still a child.
"Made you-I mean." Barbatos explained.
Diavolo shyly averted his eyes. Such bashful behavior would have earned a scolding from the Demon lord. But Barbatos was not the King. No he found it quite endearing at times.
" Ya're always makin' tea for mee Bar'ba...I wanted ta do it once fer ya...as thanks."
Barbatos widened his eyes at that. The young master had made tea as a token of gratitude. Touched was an understatement.
"Young master."
" Ya?"
"Thank you."
Barbatos was grateful for Diavolo. Not just for today's tea, obviously.