The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Early the next morning, Magnus expended much effort in bringing the house down. The heavy night rain had soaked through the wood making it impossible for a normal fire to burn. Magnus was left with no choice but to resort to his dark flames. Once it began to burn, It didn't take long for the black fire to reduce all the wood into fine ash.

"So who do you think assigned this task?" Syryn asked the silent Alka. "Was it you?"

"No, it was the granddaughter of the caretaker." Alka did not elaborate further.

"I see."

Syryn watched Magnus walk up to them. The fire mage then effortlessly hefted a sleepy Lucien into his arms. The redhead had missed many hours of sleep during the night and his fatigue was showing.

"We should leave." He suggested

"We're ready to," Syryn replied. "Let's move."

_____________

School began in a week and the boys were getting ready by checking off their shopping lists and tasks that awaited completion. Lucien was slotted into a class filled with children of his age. Syryn hoped that Red wouldn't cause too much trouble with the children. Syryn on the other hand was directly put into Alka and Magnus' class. He would be the youngest of his classmates.

It had been two days since their return from the forest, and Syryn was in Alka's workroom. He had purchased an entire year's worth of ingredients, or at least that's what Magnus had loudly observed. Having made a deal with Rowan, Syryn was in a hurry to send him a supply that would last for 2 months at the least.

He began grinding down the swollen stem of a pungent aquatic plant whose properties aided in the healing of wounds infected by toxins that broke down the flesh. Syryn planned to make 10 phials of it.

"Do you need some help?" Alka had entered the workroom at some undetermined time but Syryn had been so absorbed in his work and Alka's entrance had escaped his notice.

"If you have nothing else to do then yes," Syryn answered. Alka had been weird around him since that day at Fena forest. The plant mage had always been introverted and observant but it seemed to Syryn that Alka was operating at a higher level of weirdness now.

Syryn's slender working fingers were pale, clean and fascinating to watch. The knife in his hand moved hypnotically as he chopped maroon buds on a wooden board. He could feel Alka's burning gaze on the knife and it sent a shiver of something strange down his spine. The plant mage wanted his blood and that pleased Syryn. No, it pleased the demon in him.

"Alka, are you alright?" Syryn placed the knife away at a safe distance and faced the problem that was Alka. Yes, Syryn noted, definitely staring at his finger.

"I am not sure, Syryn," Alka replied, voice as soft as the petals that Syryn had crushed. "I wonder why I'm unable to forget the feeling from that night." And there it was, an honest answer.

"Power is addictive," Syryn supplied. "Give it a few days and you'll find that you no longer desire it."

"What if I don't want to stop craving it?" Alka tilted his head and asked in a way that made Syryn feel like the plant mage was talking to himself.

"Alka, I can't keep feeding you blood. You'll eventually turn into a demon." Not exactly but Syryn had to lie here to protect Alka from an addiction that could potentially ruin him. If administered with control over amount and timing, his blood wasn't all that bad for consumption, power addiction aside.

"Oh." A delicate crease formed on Alka's smooth forehead. "That doesn't seem like a terrible outcome."

Syryn's mouth fell open in response to Alka's reckless words. Not a terrible outcome? Was Alka out of his mind? Syryn wanted to roar at the mage but he kept it civil. "You want to turn into a demon so bad? Good. Let's do it Alka."

At his words, the plant mage took an involuntary step back.

"I thought so," Syryn commented and went back to chopping plants.

Alka then let out a deep sigh and let himself slump over the work table. "How many days?" He turned to Syryn, cheek squished adorably against the wood table.

"How many days what?"

Alka brushed away the dark lock of hair that fell over his tired green eyes. "How many days till I stop feeling strange?"

"2, maybe 3 days. Power comes with a price Alka. You'll just have to bear with the discomfort knowing that you'll be alright soon. I'll brew something that'll help you." Syryn informed the pretty boy who was making a constipated expression.

"Thank you." Alka quietly mumbled.

"But you know what?" Syryn's hands stopped moving. "Maybe I'll let you have it one last time and never more after this." The indigo glow of his eyes bled through Syryn's illusion. "What do you say?"

Alka's gaze which had been stuck to Syryn's hands swept up, past the slight upward tilt of the half demon's lips and to those eyes that were inhumanly beautiful. "Syryn?" The way he said the name was hesitant, wary.

"Yes, Alka?" Syryn replied, the words flowing off his tongue like liquid. Deliberately, Syryn drew the knife up to his waiting finger. Alka's eyes were immediately drawn to it like a magnet.

With excruciatingly slow movements, Syryn brought the knife to his thumb and drew a drop of blood that welled up enticingly scarlet. Indigo eyes flared with a glow and he turned to the entranced mage.

"Open your mouth for me, Alka."

The plant mage who appeared dazed let his mouth fall open obediently, and he waited. That tiny bead of blood brimming with Syryn's magic called to him. Syryn had vanished his illusion and there was nothing left between Alka and a temptation that made his blood run hot in his veins. He wanted it.

So when Syryn drew Alka in and dragged his thumb past the boy's lips, Alka's pink tongue licked all the blood off Syryn's thumb.

"You idiot." Syryn's eyes flashed with cold anger. "Are you this eager to get enslaved?!"

It took a few seconds for Alka to snap back to reality but when he did, he reacted by biting down hard on Syryn's finger.

"Shit! Alka what is wrong with you?!" Syryn pried his finger out of the plant mage's mouth.

"Sorry." Alka looked away guiltily.

Syryn narrowed his eyes at the contrite mage. Alka was the adventurous and reckless type that went all in. Syryn had to keep his eyes on this one, he told himself.

"I'll stay away from you till this feeling goes away," Alka informed Syryn and slipped off the stool he was seated on. Syryn watched the boy walk out of the room almost stumbling on his way.

Some mages were more sensitive to the suggestions of demons and Alka fell square into that category. It had Syryn thinking of Red's dangerous capabilities. And so he said a quick prayer to Eos for whomever Red would set his sights on in the future.