Chapter Text
"Traitors! You're all traitors!"
Kwon Jiyong's voice is starting to crack and betray him, throat raw from nonstop yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs. He thinks he might tear his vocal cords if he keeps this up, can swear he tastes blood at the back of his throat, but when he spits at the face of a soldier dragging him to his jail cell, there isn't a hint of blood. The soldier doesn't do much as spare him a glance, only holds onto his arm like a vice as he's dragged through his former kingdom — a walk of shame, of sorts. Jiyong struggles, but when handcuffed with two powerful, towering soldiers holding onto him, it does nothing to help free him.
"Filthy rats! I'll have you all hanged for this!"
Once 'loyal' subjects where now looking at him as if he was a madman, spiraling insanity. He'd have them hanged too, he vowed. He'd rebuild his kingdom on top of a thousand dead bodies if he had to, destroy everything they loved and cherished so they may know how he feels now.
How should they like it when the rug is pulled out from right under their feet? Will they laugh when everything they worked so hard for is taken from them? Who will be the madman when it's their parents being beheaded?
Most have taken care to keep their stares indirect, but when one lowly peasant makes the mistake of meeting his eyes, Jiyong roars in disgust: "You're murderers! Monsters!" A mournful sob follows, shakes his body more violently then any of his protesting prior. "You'll all pay for what you did to my parents!" Hot, angry tears roll down his cheeks, his parents' last moment replaying in his mind over and over again. He's certain they will follow him to his grave, haunt him until they day he dies because he could do no more than watch as they were mercilessly slaughtered.
Somewhere in the sea of faces, a man shouts his response: "If they had any sense, they'd kill you too."
"Say that to my face, you bastard," Jiyong retaliated violently, thrashing in his confines. When the crowd grows silent and no one steps forward, the prince barks out a laugh. "Coward."
The rest of the walk is much of the same, Jiyong descenting deeper and deeper into madness until he's finally hauled into what was once a war prison, now gutted and empty. Heavy steel doors close behind them, signifying the end of an era. The Kwon family's rule has now ended; the people are finally free.
The doors also signify the end of Jiyong's struggling. His legs buckle under his own weight, causing him to stumble. When the guards pull him back up, he wills himself to pull back — to fight just a little longer, as if it makes any difference — but his body's already given in in protest. He's dead weight when they reach his cell, making it even easier for the two brutes to throw him in. A final yelp escapes his lips as he hits the ground, bloodied skin and fractured bone coming meeting cement. He lifts himself up long enough to see the soldiers depart before he collapses again. The prince lays for what feel like hours, trembling in pain, before he finally hears the vague creek of the steel door and the tumble of it's lock.
His sudden loneliness hits him all at once, his mental breakdown picking up where it left off, now more mournful. "Mom, dad..." Jiyong whispered, eyes welling with tears. "I will avenge you, I promise." He tried to force them back, but his eyes, too, failed him — not unlike his voice or his body.
Not unlike him, failing his parents. Letting them die.
A single tear soon turned to two, which turned to three, until he was broken, sobbing on the floor. "I'll do whatever it take," he promised, words seemingly falling on deaf ears. That, he was thankful of — he must be a pathetic sight; a grown man, curled in on himself, crying. He felt so incredibly weak, so at a loss. Should his father choose to look down at him from heaven, he'd surely be disgusted, Jiyong thought. These weren't the actions of a prince, but of a child.
"Whatever it takes, you say?" The voice startles Jiyong into sitting up, eyes darting around the prison to put a face to that unfamiliar, deep, rumbling voice. He finds no one.
"Come to laugh at the pitiful prince?" Jiyong barks, anger reigniting, ready to latch it's hellish claws onto whoever else is hidden within the prison. The voice chuckles mockingly in response, causing Jiyong's royal blood to boil with rage. "Ha ha fucking ha! Look at him, whimpering and caged like a fucking zoo animal," Jiyong spat, the mysterious voice only laughing harder in response. Jiyong struggled to his feet, throwing himself against the iron bars that entrapped him, clinging to them for support. "Just a weak, pathetic bitch," he added, voice cracking into something softer, more appropriately weak.
As the laughter ceased, the sound of foot steps too their place, until a tall, blue haired man emerged from the shadows. "Your words, not mine," he replied, voice rumbling like thunder, powerful and intimidating enough to instill fear in Jiyong's heart. Something was terribly off about him. His aura alone was nauseating, demeanor inherently wicked despite not yet doing anything to earn such a label. Jiyong stumbled backwards, away from the near beast.
"W-what the fuck are you?" He appeared human, but the energy he gave off was decidedly not. There was something more sinister to him, evil looming just below smooth skin and charming smiles. He was entirely unlike the beasts of fairytales and storybooks his mother had read him as a child. His beauty betrayed the sense of danger he carried with him.
The blue-haired beast tsks him, shaking his head as he drew closer, until he was stopped just outside of the iron bars. "So obscene. Is that how you speak to all potential allies, Your Highness?" he mused, monstrous voice not faltering like Jiyong's had. Everything about him oozed confidence, suave perfection blackened only by whatever dark deeds his wished to fulfill.
Jiyong feels the need to match that confidence, to not grow weak under his stare. He's failed too much already, he couldn't afford to fail now. "You're no ally of mine, beast."
"Beast? Oh, no, you must be mistaken, I am no mere beast." A wicked smile spread across his face, one that bared sharp fangs Jiyong swore he hadn't seen there before. "A demon is like a god to simple beasts," he answered, eyes flickering menacing black, "but more importantly, I'm the 'whatever' you were looking for."
Jiyong's eyes widened in fear, brave facade crumbling at the revelation. Before his very eyes was the very highest form of evil, the physical incarnation of death and suffering. "B-begone!"
"Very well, I'll leave you be." Jiyong hadn't expected that to work, eyes widening in shock when the demon held true to his word and vanished immediately, leaving the prison as empty as it had been when Jiyong arrived.
The prince heaved a heavy, relieved sigh, running a trembling hand through his hair. But was he relieved? What exactly had the demon meant? Could he have aided Jiyong in getting his revenge? The prince couldn't help but feel oddly regretful, like he'd let an oprotunity slip through his fingers. Surely there'd be a cost to recruiting a demon, but what did he have to lose when his only other option was to spend the rest of his life rotting away in prison.
Not that it mattered now, anyway. Jiyong didn't fancy himself and expert on summoning demons even if he did have a sudden change of heart. His fate had been decided — he'd lost.
Defeated, Jiyong sat himself on the edge of his cell bed, cringing as it's old, rusty springs creaked in protest, the sound followed by uncomfortably eery silence.
"Well, this is depressing." Jiyong jump up, spinning on his heels to face a very familiar demon, sat comfortably on his bed. "No blood ritual? No pleading for me to come back? So much for being willing to do anything to avenge your parents' deaths."
Jiyong blinked at him in shocked disbelief. "How did you know? That I changed my mind — how did you know?"
The demon chuckled, coming off only slightly less condescending than before. "Your kind always does," he answers, and Jiyong truly believes it when they demon's laughter fades into another charming smile. "Besides, what other choice do you have? I'm the only one on your side."
The truth stings Jiyong — it's a tough reality to face, but he had to face it. He had no other choice.
"What do you want?"
The demon seems pleasantly surprised. As he should be, Jiyong thinks. He has him cornered, found him in his weakest and most desperate state, where he wants nothing more than revenge. All those threats he made as he was dragged to this prison, he wanted to fulfill them — wanted not only to avenge his parents' deaths, but to take back what was rightfully his and destroy anyone and everyone who stood in his way. This demon, apparently, was the key to that. "Simple, I want to make a deal with you," the demon answered, "I'll do everything in my power to protect you and obey your every command, within reason."
Jiyong swallowed thickly. This had to be too good to be true. "At what cost?"
"All I ask for in return is the souls of everyone who stands in our way," he started, "as well as your own, should you die of natural causes."
"Natural causes meaning?"
"Meaning I can't kill you myself."
Jiyong nodded vaguely, running through the contract once more. It seemed fair enough — Jiyong got what he wanted, and the demon got a stead flow of souls to do with as he pleased. The demon even took care to specify that he couldn't betray the prince. As far as he was aware, there were no draw back. As long as the demon wasn't lying to him, it would be easy to agree to the conditions given.
That's where the problem lie, though. Why should Jiyong trust a demon of all creatures when he couldn't even trust humanity. What sort of laws prohibited demons from making false contracts, and if such laws existed, why should the highest for of evil be trusted not to break said laws? He'd be stupid to put blind trust in a monster.
Even so, Jiyong had nothing left to lose but his life, which was of no value rotting away in a prison cell. "Very well, I agree to your contract, demon."
The demon smiled wicked and rose to his feet, causing Jiyong to instinctively take a small step backwards. "Excellent," he replied, offer his hand to the prince. Jiyong look down at it blankly, staring for a few seconds too long, and when he looks up, the demon is smiling at him encouragingly. Gulping, Jiyong pushed past his reluctance and takes his hand, pleasantly surprised to find that it's very much like his own — albeit stronger and more calloused.
Just as the prince eases into the touch, he feels the hand burning him. With a pained yelp, he yanks back his hand and inspects his palm, finding that it's been branded with some sort of sigil.
"Standard procedure. It must gave slipped my mind that I should warn you, I'm terribly sorry." Somehow, Jiyong doubted that. "I hope you aren't feeling regretful — there is no turning back now that the contract is sealed."
Jiyong ignored him, fingertip ghosting over the pulsating, burned flesh of his palm. He was unfamiliar with the shape, but again, he knew nothing about demons. He could only assume the branding has something to do with this demon in particular — a way of claiming his soul, he figured. "Do you have a name?"
"Seunghyun." The name is unfamiliar to him, as well. He certainly isn't a well known demon — but who's to say if that's a good thing or a bad thing? "I've gathered that your name is Kwon Jiyong, correct?" When the prince looks up, he finds that Seunghyun looks absolutely smug peering down at him.
Jiyong narrowed his eyes and scoffed — two could play at that game. "Your Highness will do."
Seunghyun's smile softened at that. "Of course, your Highness."