Painting Hell

dæm'stan'dem

Vocab for this part:

Daemon: demons but more civilized and accepted

Cluo'pett: the slums, the areas of the city in relative poverty.

Cndr'ylla: downtown, the high city, the place where all the nobles and royals live.

dæm'stan'dem: translated to "the devils advocate"

Undercommon: the language used by parts of cluo'pett, especially in parts with a lot of daemons and Underdark.

vyttumal finally got out into the world without his overprotective bodyguard, lizq'uun! He is so annoying, and won't ever let him go into the real city. The cluo'pett is the only place where vyttumal thinks he might be accepted. At the far edges of the city, daemon-elves like himself are much more common. Sure, he'll still get laughed at, but not nearly as much as he is in the royal courts. Besides, vyttumal needs to learn something about his cultures. Gliding through the dirty streets, cluo'pett doesn't seem too different from cndr'ylla. So he wanders off of the main roads and down dark alleys. After some time of wandering, he comes across what looks to be a bar with blacked-out windows. The name of the establishment is written in deep red Undercommon. "dǣm'stan'dem " Glancing behind him quickly, vyttumal pushes open the door. Jolly folk music plays, with many languages being sung at once. he walks over to the bar and slides into a chair. The small building is lit with red lights, casting a strangely comforting glow. The person next to him looks up, and to vyttumal's surprise, has small horns poking through a mop of curly auburn hair. He startles, and looks back at the daemon-elf sitting next to them. "Can I help you?"

vyttumal blinks, then replies, "I think so. Is.. Are you.. um." The other elf looks back at him, amused. "Yea. I'm the child of a daemon whore. Who might you be, speaking with an accent so high and mighty?" vyttumal is puzzled as to why someone might introduce themselves so unflatteringly, then gathers his wits. "I am vyttumal'nikl'lia. I meant to ask if you were a daemon like me, but it you answered that question. So what's your name?" "It isn't of any consequence. Not like I would marry you." "Insulting. I think I'm quite handsome," vyttumal says smugly, "and it is very much of consequence to me." The other elf snorts and raises an eyebrow, as if to ask if he is joking. When he doesn't respond, they finally answer. "Fine. I'm nyrz'drytl'kuvdeis. Illegal child of the king, born to one of his daemon whores." vyttumal blinks in shock. "How dare you speak about yourself and your mother in such a disrespectful way! She raised you, did she not?" nyrz looks bored as they answer, "Not really. She just fed me then threw me to the school every morning. Besides, she died." "My condolences. When did she pass?" Tears well up in the other elf's eyes. "Last night. That's why I'm here and not enjoying the bustling nightlife on the main block." vyttumal reaches out and puts his hand on their shoulder. nyrz wipes away the tears and gathers themself again. "That's why I'm drinking. How did you come to be here?" Not wanting to give away his identity as the crown heir, vyttumal treads lightly. "My parents are very strict, but I finally managed to convince my guard that I can be trusted. I'm supposed to be in cndr'ylla right now, and home an hour ago." nyrz laughs lightly, a bubbling sound just noticeable over the obnoxiously loud music. "A rebel, huh?" "I suppose so. I've never had alcohol before. Think you could show me the ropes?" vyttumal smiled, hoping that nyrz wouldn't see him as a sheltered fostt'ird'la. Instead, nyrz laughs, saying that "it would be my honor to have your first drink with you."

The two spend quite some time with each other. vyttumal has been enchanted by this beautiful daemon, and every word that comes out of their mouth is like music. But when the clock strikes cndr'eime, he begins to feel overwhelmed by the lights and the noise. 

"Hey, are you okay? You spaced out for a bit." vyttumal is jerked back to the bar and speedily replies, "Yeah, I'm fine." nyrz nods slowly, skeptical. "Actually," they say, "I feel really overwhelmed here, I'm starting to get a headache. Can we head back to my place?" "Is your place safe? And less loud?" nyrz laughs, and nods.

Out in the cool air, vyttumal begins to feel cool, shivering slightly. nyrz looks over at him, and without saying a word, drapes their jacket over his shoulders. vyttumal blushes, and a tornado of thoughts swirl through his head. Nobody would ever allow this in the court, I can't believe I'm flirting with someone like me! Who is a daemon! And not a boring girl in long skirts with long hair. What would my mother say? She would hate that I'm on a date in the cluo'pett with a daemon. I'm such a whore for doing this.

Somewhere in the overwhelming spiral of panic, vyttumal stopped dead in the middle of the street. nyrz moves to stands beside him, holding his shoulders as silent tears roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, nyrz. I didn't mean to start crying." nyrz pulled vyttumal into a tight hug and whispers into his ear, "It's okay. I promise. Crying is okay." They rub his back in soft circles, and vyttumal's tears slowly stop.

After a while, vyttumal pulls away from nyrz and takes their hand. "Are you okay now?" "Yeah. In fact, I feel better than ever!" He skips ahead, pulling nyrz by the hand. nyrz laughs like a bubbling brook and runs to catch up. They practically fly through the back streets until they reach nyrz's door, smiling and out of breath. nyrz pulls out their key and unlocks the door, pulling vyttumal inside after them. He stands in awe at the incredible representation of daemons all around him. Runes scattered the walls, and bleached-white bones hang from the ceiling. "I've never seen anything like this before." nyrz seems confused and asks, "Not even in your own home? Growing up in nobility, they must have taught you something." vyttumal shakes his head. "The only thing I know about that's even somewhat connected to my culture is Undercommon. And only because lizq'uun is Underdark." nyrz squints, and raises an eyebrow. "He's my guard. Sorry, I should have told you that." "It's okay! I'm glad you're being protected. You really don't know anything about your heritage?" vyttumal shakes his head. "I can show you a little something about how you were made, if you like?" nyrz winks suggestively. He smiles, and follows them into their red-tinted bedroom.