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CHAPTER 19- UNUSUALLY SILENT
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2021-10-19 17:51:13Brandon returns to the cellar four days later. For the past four days, he thought about the demon’s request. Demons are naturally greedy, cunny, and twisted, so it is rather queer for this one to demand a single question as payment for answering all of his questions and clearing his doubts.
After several considerations (and reconsiderations), he decides to give the demon the benefit of doubt. How harmful could a question be? Besides, I can always skirt around the truth- I am the Master of Twisted Words, after all. And if push comes to shove, I’ll just torture him till he rescinds his question or even opts for another deal.
“What a fine morning. How has your stay been so far? Any complaints?”
Llearht simply stares back at him. The demon does not look much different. His cheeks are a bit sunken and his brunet hair reminds Brandon of his mother’s signature look- wild and sinfully sexy. Brandon wonders if his hair is as s
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“I never thought tuakanawas stupid.”Brandon halts in his tracks, unable to believe what he just heard. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Yes, it must be the sickening stench of death and decay clouding my mind.He continues moving when he hears the voice again. This time, it is much louder, and the half-demon clenches his fists so hard that his nails cut into his flesh. Turning around ever so slowly, he regards the half-demon with hooded eyes. What’s his plan now?The ever-dutiful Ultima reminds his absent-minded master of the dire situation of the subject and only then does the half-demon react.“Are you ready to talk to me?”“I w-was a-a-always ready…” Llearth erupts into a hacking fit. The sight is oddly reminiscent, and Brandon experiences a feeling of déjà vu. While it seems like there is no end to the lesser demon’s coughing bout, Brandon knows h
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“What do you mean I changed? What are you talking about?” Brandon is once more stupefied by the lesser demon’s words. This had better not be another of his shenanigans.“As much as I would love to answer all of your questions, we, or should I say you, are yet to make your stand concerning the deal known. What say you?”“We’re not in the nineteenth century, man.”“I’m well aware of mortal age and time. I can speak in whatever tongue I please. Or is that prohibited too?”“That isn’t the point.”“Then what is? It sure as isn’t your Loubotinis though. You’ve been glancing at your feet since you came here, and I’m starting to think that they’re more important than what you need from me.” Noticing the skeptical glance the half-demon gives him, he snorts. “What? You think Hell is Backwater County, don’t you? I’
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“What does tuakana mean? I tried searching for its meaning across several encyclopaedias, but got nothing tangible in return.”“First and foremost, it’s pronounced two-a-kana, and not that mortal slur emanating from that exotic piehole of yours. Secondly, what on Earth and everything mortal made you think of scouring human books for translations to demon lingua francas? You must be either too confident, or just plain stupid. And your recent actions prove to me that the latter is more probable.”Brandon tries to not let his irritation show. Quick breaths, Don. Quick breaths. When he has managed to put his erstwhile tendencies under control, he repeats the question, making sure to sound as unannoyed as possible.Ha! As if that could fool me. Your heritage may outclass mine by several tiers, but I’ve been a messenger far longer than you’ve been alive, boy. Llearth inwardly smirks at the half demon’s attempt to remain
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He can’t go anywhere, not with how fortified this place is. Escaping from here is only a pipedream. With that conviction, Brandon pretends not to notice the lesser demon’s critical gaze. And so the barrage of questions continue, each one trying to outsmart the other, like a typical game of chess.“How can one go to Hell?”Llearth chokes on his non-existent saliva. “A-and why would you wanna go to Hell? Most humans want to go to Heaven!” he shutters and stares at the half demon like one would stare at an alien from outer space.“I think it’s been established that I’m not a normal human. As a matter of fact, I am anything but human.”“You’re not a demon either,” Llearth not so quietly murmurs. I don’t know what you are, but you’re certainly not just a demon.“What did you say?”“Nothing. I said nothing. What was your qu
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“Can I at least...”The restraints around his hands, torso, and feet tighten, conveying the Maestro’s response. Klade clenches his jaw, wincing at the pain that is worsened by that movement, a stark reminder of his overwhelming weakness and what could very well befall him if he tries to leave again. Justyou wait, you swaddled, cod-mouthed dollop head! There’s always a next time, and I’ll be damned if I let you play me like a fool again! If it wasn’t for your identity, I’d have taught you a lesson you’d never forget.If the Maestro hears Klade’s thoughts, he does a good job of ignoring it, like the cow would ignore the buzzing of flies on its tail. He cannot be bothered to assuage his doubts any more than he already has. As long as he plays his part, nothing else matters. After all, he was simply told to keep the young demon alive- there was no mention of coddling or convenience of any sort.&nb
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Lia is filled with questions, but she knows she will not get an answer. Not anytime soon, at least.Sandara Harrison rarely ever expresses her feelings, most especially when it comes to filial piety. However, when she does, it’s overly effusive, like a deluge that overwhelms and nearly suffocates you, because your poor brain cannot make a connection between mushiness overload and the severe, heavy-handed image she normally portrays. They’re just too different to juxtapose, like two colors at opposite ends of the spectrum.After satisfying her curiosity, allaying her otherwise frayed nerves, and ensuring that her convalescent niece will not be returning to the depths of a dreamless slumber anytime soon, Sandara makes to deposit herself on her signature chair, only to realize halfway into the action that the wooden seat has been reduced to a jumble of woodpiles. This puts her in an awkward position, and she is caught in between the motions of standing and sit
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