A Dance Of Gods ✓

19. Demons are strange

Taylor

"That was the closest any of us had ever come to killing angels." Elrinora says. "And Lucifer... meant what he said to his brothers. He has never lied about his intent to kill someone."

  "Never?" I choke, images of Lucifer pushing celestial beings as close to death as they can get stuck in my head. If he is capable of that, what could he do to humans?

"Never." She shrugs. "But if we're being honest you and I both know he has every reason to want his brothers dead."

Do I? They've been brainwashed into submission by an all powerful being for thousands of years. Is it reasonable for him to blame anything they've done on them?

I now see a side of him I knew was there, one that's been right in front of me since the first time he popped into my life- that I just haven't acknowledged. He is vengeful, violent.

But with the same logic; can I blame him for that?

I suppose being abandoned by your family and ruling over a kingdom of torture for thousands of years could change a person- yet he's been so kind to me; a stark contrast to every story I've ever heard about him.

  "I've seen that look before-." Elrinora continues. " on the faces of newer demons. Taylor... he's not all bad and you know it. He's got a soft spot for you."

  "What...no I... we just met that's not possible-"

  "Time has no meaning when you are six thousand years old." She shrugs. "I'd embrace it if I were you. You'll get a lot more leeway in making mistakes with your gift if the literal devil is on your side. The governments of your world will not be able to touch you and neither will celestial beings. I've heard you're quite powerful on your own, though."

"I made a few flames with my hands." I reply. "Twice. That's...nothing compared to... some of the things I imagine celestial's can do."

"All gifts grow with time- even mine. I used to be pissed that I got the short end of the stick with no obvious gifts but... over the course of a thousand years my strength grew and I became the only demon physically strong enough to fight Lucifer."

"Would that not put a target on your back?" I turn around to face her, leaning against the balcony's edge. She purses her lips together. "I mean with... what the archangels tried to pull in 1762, aren't you worried they'll attempt to recruit you too?"

"Hell no-" She shakes her head. "They learned their lesson the first time. Being decapitated is quite traumatic to those who can remember it happening."

I don't bother to ask how she knows- whether it was from a battle or out of curiosity. Instead, I walk to Rhea's kitchen and grab a stale chocolate croissant. I stuff large pieces of it in my mouth as she continues talking.

"When I was 1,213 I'd reached my boiling point. Lucifer had no assignments for me, I'd burnt out on torturing souls, and new inventions in the human world had come to what felt like a full stop. The other demons and I, knowing full well we couldn't die, decided to experiment with tearing each-other's body parts off- consensually of course." She overemphasizes the consent part. "I volunteered to go first because I didn't have anything better to do. The seconds leading up to it were thrilling- some of the first I'd had in almost a hundred years, so perhaps I underestimated the pain of being decapitated. A brief rush of adrenaline took over my body and I didn't even hesitate to stick my head under the guillotine, which I regretted immediately. I could feel my head and body at the same time and it was like my nerve endings were still intact. I had the worst headache of my life for years after, I felt the blood draining from my neck, and I could also feel my head regrowing-"