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He paced restlessly as he waited for the high priest. All the priests here at the temple of Sekrall made him nervous the price for their aid was always high. But to meet the doyen face to face - unheard of - he wondered at the cost. There was the sound of a throat being cleared softly behind him and he swung round. To see... a girl? A girl, comely to be sure, but a girl? A vague thought passed his mind that she looked familiar. He dismissed it.Disclaimers: This is so different to the stuff I usually write that if I hadn't been there when I wrote it I wouldn't have believed I could. It's what could best be described as "Dark Fantasy". There's no sex. No violence. It's not my fault. It's the fault of that damned Tavern Challenge. I used the three words - no problem - but I couldn't keep it to 100 words if my life had depended on it. So don't blame me. "You asked to speak to me?" He'd been expecting the doyen of the temple and found instead a doyenne. He felt the need to confirm it. "You are the high priest?" She bowed her head in silent affirmation. "I come seeking a favour." A pointless declaration, it was a statement of the obvious. Why else would he be here. The members of the Royal Household worshipped Althanon Lord of Light, as was seemly. There would be no reason, should be no reason to be here at the temple of the demon Sekrall. No member of the king's own family - least of all the second son should tread the dark paths. He rubbed hands, of a sudden grown clammy, down the sides of his breeches, then cursed inwardly, knowing his actions had betrayed his nervousness. "You know who I am?" Voice harsh with anger at himself. "I know you, Prince." "You are a woman of few words, Priestess." Stalling now, attempting to regain control, of himself and of the situation. Not, he realised wryly that he had ever owned that. "Words are breath, breath is life, and life is a gift not to be wasted" He started visibly. Did she already know his purpose; the Gods only knew what the demons told her. She was waiting for him to speak again. He cleared his throat. Might as well be blunt, the dark ones did not, it seemed, indulge in the flatteries and circumlocutions of the followers of the Lord of Light. "I seek my brother's life." The priestess did not look shocked; obviously she was used to such evil, serving the lord she did. "Then take it, you have a sharp sword and a good arm." His anger rose. She toyed with him. "Were it that simple I would not be here. None may know who struck the blow. Even did I hire assassins they could be traced to me. No I need my brother gone and none to know to whom to point. I need a demon to carry him off. Where better to turn than the lord of all darkness?" "Ah, it is safety you seek." Had she just dubbed him 'coward'? No matter. Would she grant his request, would she call her lord? That was all that was important. "Why?" The question startled him. This priestess appeared to take joy in keeping him off balance. He didn't bother to pretend not to understand. "Because he is my father's heir but I will make a better king. He is weak. He cares too much what the peasants feel. He will free the slaves!" Indignation at this betrayal of the way things were, had always been, made his voice rise. The girl nodded, as if he but confirmed what she already knew. "And a cruel king is a strong king?" A question. He did not feel she expected an answer from him. She seemed to be listening to some voice he could not hear. A chill ran down his spine. He was suddenly as cold as the ice on the walls of hell. "Sekrall will hear you, but he asks a price. He wants your soul." The man laughed. Let his simpering brother believe in such things as souls. He did not. Religious nonsense to keep believers in line. It did not occur to him that such disdain of the gods did not mesh with his beliefs in the demons' powers. That to believe in Sekrall but not Althanon was somehow more foolish than his brother could ever be. "I agree". She led him to another chamber which contained nothing but a plain stone altar and a glabrous bull hide rug before it. The surface worn smooth by the touch of many generations of worshippers. The slab tilted slightly backwards. With a shudder he realised this permitted blood to drain into the channels cut behind the altar proper. He found he did not wish to dwell upon that subject. The priestess took a small knife from a rack at the side of the slab which held many such blades, the others all bigger than her chosen tool. "My master desires a drop of blood. Just one. From your thumb, to seal the bargain. Should it please him your wish will be granted. Your brother will die from a burst heart and none can be held to blame. And your soul will be Sekrall's." He nodded his agreement and held out his arm. The prick in his thumb was almost unfelt and he watched as if in a dream as a single drop of purple blood dropped towards the altar stone. Dropped but never landed, as an arm appeared from the ether to halt its progress. The drop landed on an extended finger and the prince watched in horrified stupor as the hand rose towards a face. A beautiful face. In fact the face of probably the most beautiful, the most perfect man he had ever seen. The prince's body reacted though he willed it not to. His horror grew, he had never been a lover of men, what power did this creature have that it made him respond so? He left such misuses of what was proper in the bedchamber to his sister. He could not tear his gaze away as a thin black tongue slipped out from between the face's perfect lips and delicately licked the drop of blood. A sigh issued forth as the demon's eyes closed in pleasure. "Yesssss." The voice resonated like shattering glass. "Rich and heavy with sin. Acceptable." The priestess spoke from her kneeling state, a position she had adopted as soon as the demon had materialised. "Sekrall finds your offer pleasing. The bargain is sealed. Look into my Lord's eyes." Slowly he did so. Gasping aloud as he noticed for the first time that the demon's eyes had no pupil, no colour at all. They were translucent and as cold as the ceilings of Sekrall's icy home. As he stared those orbs changed, clouds swirled in the depths and drew him in. He saw his brother standing by his father's throne speaking with the king. He watched his brother rub at his ribs, as a man will who has eaten too well and whose meal threatens him with sleepless nights. In thrall he could not look away as he watched the heir to the throne hold his chest once more, his face contorted in pain. Heard his father's voice laden with concern cry out "what ails you". Beneath the fear glee arose bubbling in his throat as he observed his sibling's death. The vision faded. He heard the priestess speak again but knew not whether he or the demon was the intended recipient of her words. "It is done, my Lord." At last able to move he turned towards the girl again. And recognised her. She was a serving wench he had beat nigh to death two years gone, because she refused his advances and yet bedded his sister. He had been rebuked for that, she was not slave but free woman and he had overstepped what was lawful. He smirked, now he was King-in-waiting that would change. Nothing he willed would be unlawful; no woman would be allowed to refuse him. His train of thought ceased as he heard the demon laugh, a sound as though an orchestra composed of bass cymbals all sounded together, but each out of key with it's neighbour. Spinning to face Sekrall once more he cursed inwardly as his body again defied his will. The demon spoke, but not to him. "Go to your lover, my child. Your service here is ended, you have done well." The priestess stood. "Thank you my master." She hesitated. "Master, if I should turn towards the Lord of Light and come no more..." The demon smiled. "I will not punish you, my child. You suit my brother Althanon much better than you do my service. Your lover will be a good king. Go to her." The Prince growled "What? I am King. What of the bargain. Even the Lord of Chaos cannot break a bargain sealed in blood!" "Ah, vain little man. The bargain was met. Your brother's life for your soul it was, your brother's life was taken and now your soul is mine. Fear not, your line will rule one day. Your sister will be a wise king; she will have a long and happy reign. She will take one of your bastard offspring as her heir and he will rule well, as will all your line. There must be balance in this world little man, good and evil, chaos and light. You are no true balance; you would upset the patterns the world runs in. With those patterns gone so too go the gods. But now, now all is safe and balanced and you are mine." The cymbals clashed and rattled again as Sekrall shook with laughter. The Prince's manhood rose again and he backed away. "No." "Oh yes little man. Oh yes. Come and learn what chaos is like, little man. Come and be my plaything." Sekrall held out a hand and the chamber faded away. Leaving them, man and demon both, standing naked in a hall of ice. The cold winds of hell blew around them. "Welcome to my home my little toy, is it not beautiful?" The prince shivered. The demon smiled. Sekrall gestured and the man found himself crawling on his knees towards the demon. Struggle as he might, plead as he would, he could not hold back. Sobbing, hating, helpless he heard the demon's sigh of pleasure as against his will the man who had been prince wrapped his mouth around his new master's erection.
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