Chapter Four: Father Lucifer

"So, tell me what that was all about," Orina said as she locked her door behind Decamerone.

"I don't really know, to tell you the truth," he replied. "I just sensed something off about him."

"Like what?" "I don't know exactly, but something's wrong there. I just know it. Don't tell me you didn't sense anything off about him?"

"He gave me the creeps, yes, but nothing I could really put into words beyond that. Very vague. What did you sense?"

"I almost got the feeling that he was... that he's a...." Decamerone shook his head. "Never mind. It couldn't be."

"What?" Orina asked as she stood before her mirror, undoing her hair. "What did he seem like?"

"A demon. I can sense things like that."

"Ohhhh, is that another demon thing?" she said teasingly, turning around to face him. "Like these?" She traced one of his pointed ears with her finger. "And...." They both blushed as her hand traveled lower.

"I suppose," he replied with a laugh. Smiling at him, she turned back around and continued to take her hair down.

"But anyway, you're right, it couldn't be," she continued in a more serious tone. "No one remembers how to summon one, and weren't all the books burned? Besides, it's probably a fairly complex spell, nothing Ithonie could cast. Right?"

"I wouldn't know." Decamerone shrugged, stroking her dark hair as it fell down her back. "It was before my time, and I never asked my mother."

"And besides," Orina said as she shook out the last of her hair, "it's forbidden."

"So is this," Decamerone murmured as he kissed her neck. She trembled. "And this." He slid her dress off her shoulder and placed a small, warm kiss on it. "And yet...."

"And yet..." she breathed. She sighed almost inaudibly as he continued to press little kisses on her neck, shoulder, and arm. By the time she turned to kiss him, they had forgotten everything they had been discussing.

"I'm telling you, he knows somehow," Ithonie insisted as she and Kezmet walked into her room. "Somehow, he just knows."

"How could he?" Kezmet asked.

She shrugged. "Well, he IS half-demon. Maybe he can sense, I don't know, those with similar blood."

"So what?" Kezmet said callously. "So what if he has a suspicion? That's all he has, and if he told anyone, no one would believe him."

"Orina would," Ithonie said, a dark look on her face. "She'd believe him."

"And she'd be the only one who would." He sighed. "Look at it this way: demon summoning is forbidden, correct?"

"Right."

"And you're not an accomplished sorceress at all, correct?"

A pained look came over Ithonie's face. It was her everlasting shame that she couldn't master even the basics of magic, here, in this kingdom of magic, where nearly everyone was gifted with the ability. In the eyes of most people here, she was no better than the Earthbound Ones on the Terra Continent below. She nodded. "Yes."

"So no one is going to believe that you, of all people, could do such a thing." He smiled at her. "You see?"

"I... see." Ithonie's face had fallen slightly when he made the her of all people comment.

"Why are you so obsessed with them, anyway?"

"Because he should have been mine, not hers," Ithonie hissed. "She stole what was supposed to be mine -- again."

"But... aren't you happy with me?" Kezmet looked hurt. He stroked her cheek with a cold hand. "I barely know you, but already I know that we were meant for each other." He kissed her with cool lips. Ithonie tried not to shiver at the chilliness of his skin. He felt like a dead man.

"Yes, of course, I am," she consoled him. "I just have this need to get him back for not seeing me the way you do. For seeing her that way instead."

Kezmet barely restrained a laugh. He sincerely doubted that Decamerone saw Orina the way he himself saw Ithonie.

"I understand. But do relax. There's no way anyone would believe him, and no way he could ever prove it. You were careful enough to cover your tracks well, weren't you, my darling?" He injected just enough false affection into his voice to temper his genuine fear that someone might discover his true identity, and plans. Ithonie melted visibly at the endearment, and he concealed his triumph. Another step towards victory.

"Of course I was," she murmured as she began to caress him in an effort to warm his cold skin. "This means too much to me to not. But I can't help worrying that he knows something somehow. Can't you do something about that? Something.... permanent?"

"Forget him," Kezmet replied, irritation creeping into his voice. He couldn't afford to have her distracted by another, not when he was so close to winning complete control over her. And he needed that control to achieve his plans. "You're better off with me, anyway. I'm sure you know what they say about demons, but do you know what they say about half-demons?"

"No, what?"

"Well, being part demon, they wouldn't have a problem telling what gender their children are.... if they could have them." He smiled with cold satisfaction down at her surprised expression. "Indeed, Ithonie. Half-breeds do have that tendency. So no matter how happy they are now, there will never be a little bundle of joy for them."

A cruelly smug smile spread across Ithonie's face at that news. So, Orina would be denied something? How sweetly satisfying.

"But that's not important," Kezmet murmured. "This is." He began to slide her dress off her shoulders. His nails once again sliced into her soft, pale skin, and she winced. A gasp escaped her as he bit her shoulder.

"Stop," she pleaded as his teeth, much sharper than any human's, scraped her skin. She held back tears of pain as she felt her warm blood trickle down her arm, a definite contrast to his cold hands and lips. "Please stop. It hurts."

"This is how we show affection in my world," he murmured as he raked his razor-like nails down her back as he removed her dress. "Relax." As if for emphasis, he bit her shoulder again, a little harder this time. Tears trickling from her eyes, she closed them and tried to ignore the pain.

A month passed fairly uneventfully. At the end of it, Ithonie and Kezmet announced their engagement.

"Orina, will you please tell me what's wrong?" Decamerone asked, his voice filled with concern. They had just come from Ithonie and Kezmet's engagement party, where she'd been very quiet the whole time. "You've barely said three words tonight, and even those practically had to be forced out of you. What's bothering you?" He frowned. "Are you worried about your sister, because of our suspicions about him?"

"Jealous of her is more like it," Orina muttered almost inaudibly as she sat down on her bed, dejected.

"Jealous? Why..." He trailed off as he saw her shoulders shake, and realized she was holding back tears. "Oh, Orina," he sighed, sitting beside her on the bed. He slid his arms around her, and she started to cry, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I can't go on like this much longer," she sobbed. "Hiding from everybody, never being able to be with you all night. I want more than this. I want to be able to tell people about us. To spend my life with you." Her body jerked as she cried harder. "I want to marry you, instead of being secret lovers."

"We will," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I promise you."

"Last time you made a promise, it took you seven years to fulfill it!" she wept. "I'm sorry, but it's true. How long will this one take? I don't have forever. What will you do with me when I begin to age and you look exactly the same?"

"Shhhh," he murmured, stroking her hair and kissing her. "Shhhh. It's all right. I know of a spell that can keep us like this forever. You don't have to worry about that." He sighed. "I was going to wait to give you this, but this is obviously the better time." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ring adorned with a glittering blue jewel that matched her eyes. "It's something of an engagement ring. I hope it'll do."

Lifting her head, she wiped her tears away and looked at it. "It's very beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Taking her hand, he slid the ring onto her finger, then closed his hand over hers. Cupping her face with his other hand, he kissed her, tasting her salty tears on his lips. "My love," he murmured as he pulled her against him. "My sweet Orina." Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as he whispered a few words in an unknown language, then returned to words she could understand.

He stayed with her that night.

"Did you see the look on Orina's face when we announced our engagement?" Ithonie gloated the next day. "Priceless! I just know she must be dying of jealousy, knowing that she can never marry her precious Decamerone!"

"Who cares?" Kezmet replied coldly. "They aren't of any concern to me. Only you, and our plan." He smiled evilly at her. "Once the gate is opened, they will lose what little importance they have. As well as their lives."

"But I'm not content with that!" Ithonie snapped. "I want them to suffer now, and at our hands!"

"You will simply have to be content with that, darling." Kezmet felt his irritation growing. He wondered if the end, taking over this world, could make the means, putting up with her in this charade, tolerable. Oh, well. Too late for an alternate plan now.

"Oh, do I?" She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "I summoned you, remember? I'm the one with the say in these things."

That was it. Kezmet felt his coldly calculated self-control come to an end. He just couldn't pretend like this anymore. He laughed harshly. "Is that what you think? What a pathetic fool you are," he sneered.

"What?" Ithonie couldn't believe what she had just heard. "What do you mean?"

"As usual, you know nothing. You don't know me, or anything. This isn't even me."

"What? I...." She gasped in horror as he began to change from the handsome man she had so desired and loved, into a hideous creature.

His pale body remained human-like, but dark bluish-grey, almost black. His feet became paws. His face became long and dragon-shaped, with horrible, pupiless blood-red eyes that had black markings around them. His lips drew back in a terrifying smile, revealing his razor-sharp black teeth. Recoiling in horror, Ithonie backed away, terrified.

"No..." she whispered. "This... this can't be you. What is going on?"

"This is me, Ithonie," he replied in an all-too-familiar hissing voice.

"Why?" she gasped. It was the only thing she could think to say.

"To show you my true power," he hissed, stepping towards her. "You are not the mistress as you blindly assumed. You are my servant after all. Nothing more than my tool to take this world for my own."

"No...." she gasped. She shook her head, not believing that this was really happening. It couldn't be. There was just no way this could be real. It was a nightmare, she told herself, another one of the nightmares she had almost every night while lying in his arms. "No, this can't be you. How could you do something like that to me? How could you lie to me?" She choked back a sob as the horror of it began to erode her sanity. "How could you use me?" His terrible eyes stared back her, so red and cruel, mocking her.

"How could I not?" He laughed. "You asked for it. You wanted it and you got it."

"No, I didn't," she whispered, crying now. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"Oh, didn't you?" he sneered. He took another step towards her. She backed away... into the wall. He almost seemed to smirk at her as he took yet another step forward.

"You wanted this," he hissed, grasping her throat with his claw-like hand. One of his nails, even sharper now, pricked where her pulse throbbed in her throat, and her blood flowed in a warm red river down her neck. She gagged as his breath, smelling of sulfur, reached her nostrils. She whimpered at the pain in her neck where his nail continued to make her bleed, slowly but steadily. All she could see were his pupiless vermilion eyes and his black fangs in his horrible mouth. "You wanted an evil demon, and you got one. Too bad it didn't work out quite the way you intended, did it, my darling?" He sneered the once tender endearment, causing her to sob again.

"Are.... are you going to kill me now?" she sobbed.

"Of course not," he sneered. "I still have use of you. But you will do exactly as I say and nothing else. Understand?" She nodded, causing more blood to drip down her throat, contrasting sharply with the paleness of her skin -- and the coal-black claw that clutched it tightly in a death-grip as a constrictor would hold a mouse. Fresh tears trickled down her chalk-white cheeks. She was the mouse, in the unyielding grip of a predator that had seduced her completely. A serpent that was devouring her heart and leaving her empty, to rot away a shell of her former self. For she had lost almost all her sanity when he said the horrible words now burned on her fragile brain. Her soul... that was already gone. Sucked from her when she brought him to her. When she sealed her fate.

"Now, since I know I won't get any peace until you have your revenge, it will be taken care of tomorrow. Satisfied?"

"Yes," she replied in a choked voice.

"Good." Releasing her throat, he shifted back into his human form. He smiled, the same smile that had won her heart. Only now could she see its coldness, its cruelty. How hungry and predatory it was. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. The veil of imagined love, woven by the sharp needles of deceit and illusion.

"Are you ready?" Decamerone whispered to Orina. They stood in the throne room of Zeal Palace, waiting for the rest of the Council of Zeal and the Queen to arrive. As soon as that happened, they were going to tell them what they had done and what they were planning to do.

Orina smiled nervously and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be." The Council thought they had come before them to discuss military matters. They were, after all, part-time members of the army. So they had used that pretense.

"Orina, hello!" Alyse smiled warmly at her younger sister as she walked over to them. "Decamerone, hi."

"Hello, Alyse," they both greeted her.

"You look nervous, Orina. Is anything the matter?" Alyse asked, noting Orina's slightly anxious expression with concern.

Orina faked a smile. "Nothing, nothing's wrong. I, I'm fine."

Alyse frowned. "Are you sure? You seem a little uneasy. I..... oh god!"

"What?" Orina frowned. Alyse had gone chalk-white. She screamed, pointing behind the two as she backed away. They turned to see a huge, hideous black demon looming over them. It lunged for Orina, and Decamerone grabbed her and pulled her out of its path. It fell onto Alyse. She screamed and struggled as it sniffed her with its large, horn-like nose. Then it got up and turned around. Hissing, it advanced towards Orina and Decamerone. They had drawn their swords, and were ready. With a low, liquid snarl, it produced a sword of its own.

Orina slashed at it, and it just barely saved itself from being impaled by locking swords with her. Releasing the sword with one hand, Orina created a sphere of dark energy and threw it at the demon. It hit its shoulder and burned right through. With a howl, the thing brought up a long, thin leg and caught her behind her back. Twisting her around, it slammed her into the wall. With a low groan, she slid to the floor and didn't move.

"Orina!" Decamerone rushed forward, and just barely saved himself from being stabbed with the creature's sword.

They circled each other for several long, tense seconds. Then they clashed swords, battling with a desperate ferocity. Alyse and the other Council members who'd been unable to escape watched.

Orina stirred, though no one noticed. She rubbed her aching head and took a deep breath. Bracing herself with a hand against the wall, she pulled herself up and turned. To see the demon run Decamerone through with his sword.

Time itself seemed to stop as the demon yanked the sword from Decamerone as quickly and ruthlessly as he had stabbed him with it. Decamerone's own sword clattered to the floor, and he joined it, not even making a sound. The demon turned and smiled cruelly at Orina with its hideous, black-toothed mouth as her scream shattered the silence.

"No!" Orina shrieked. Picking up her sword from where it had fallen, she slashed with deadly aim at the demon. It tried to dodge it, taking a blow on its side. With a howl, it shoved Orina back. She stumbled backwards and tripped, falling to the floor. The demon then cast a spell and vanished.

"No, no, no." Weeping, Orina crawled over to where Decamerone lay, barely alive. Kneeling beside him, she cradled his head in her hands.

"Decamerone, no," she whispered. "Get up, please. Cast a spell and heal yourself. You know I don't know healing spells."

He shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm sorry, Orina."

"What? No, don't be sorry. Just save yourself." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Please!"

He shook his head again. "I can't, Orina, it's too late."

"No!" she sobbed. "No, it's not! Just say the words! Cast it!" Her tears dripped onto his face as she cried helplessly. "Please..." she choked out.

Reaching up an unsteady hand, he stroked her wet cheek. "My sweet Orina..." he whispered. Then he died.

"No!" Orina screamed. "No, oh god, no!" Sobbing and screaming incoherently, she fell onto him, pressing her tear-streaked face to his. "No, don't leave me, don't leave me!" she wept, knowing that it was too late but refusing to believe it. "No...." She choked on her grief, whimpering pathetically. "Decamerone..." she whispered.

Then she felt someone grasp her arm and begin to pull her off. "Let me go!" she shrieked. "He's not dead! He's not! Somebody, help me save him! No, oh....." With a sound that was a mixture of a sob and a groan, she fainted. Sliding out of Alyse's grasp, she fell to the floor beside Decamerone, unconscious.

"Oh... uh..." Groaning groggily, Orina woke up. It took a few seconds to register that she was lying on her bed in her room. At first, she thought that it was another ordinary morning, alone with Decamerone in the next room. Then she looked down at herself, and saw that she was clothed, saw the blood on her hands. The events of a few hours ago came rushing back to her. For a few seconds it seemed as though her heart had stopped and she couldn't breathe. Then, with an anguished cry, she began sobbing again. Her grief finally overwhelmed her and she fell unconscious again.

When she next awoke, it was several hours later. Her room was completely dark, except for the moonlight shining in through her open window and the flickering candles someone -- probably Alyse -- lit. The curtains blew in the gentle, yet cold, wind.

With a muffled whimper, Orina sat up. Swallowing down her tears, she wiped her face. A choked sob escaped her as she felt the cool metal of the ring Decamerone had given her only a few days before. Fresh tears filled her eyes as she touched the locket around her neck.

Rubbing her wet, bloodstained hands over her face, she turned and gazed at the window. Her vision blurred with tears, and it seemed that she could see his face before her, beckoning her. A sudden chill wind doused the candles and whipped the curtains up, making it seem like there was someone standing there. "Decamerone..." she whispered. Standing, she rushed over to the window to embrace him.

And found that it had been an illusion, a hallucination created in her mind. A cruel trick. With a loud sob, she ripped the curtains from the rods and slid to the floor, weeping.

Wiping her eyes on the curtains even as more tears flowed forth, she saw a knife on the floor, lying within reach underneath the table where she got ready every morning. With a choked gasp, she leaned forward and picked it up. Shaking violently with her pain, she placed it next to her wrist. Two simple slashes was all it would take, and she would bleed to death here, and join him.