The Demon Lord And His Hero

Syryn found himself alone with Artemus in the workroom. The anti mage's negative emotions were leaking through his impassive barrier and it fascinated the mage.

"Artemus, before you say anything, allow me to explain myself." Syryn, who was leaning with his head against the workroom door, turned his back to Artemus. With a soft 'click', they were locked inside the room.

Eyes on the door, Artemus went taut with a tension that was smothered immediately. Syryn wasn't a danger to him but it couldn't be helped that his subconscious still reacted defensively when his conscious self had its guard down.

"So we're now on a first-name basis," Artemus replied. All that heat Syryn had heard in his words earlier had dimmed to cool neutrality.

The mage smiled at the professor, a mischievous grin that lifted the corners of Syryn's eyes, letting the anti mage see a flash of what his true smile was like. "You don't like it?"

"I can call you whatever you want me to, professor, it's no skin off my back," Syryn took slow measured steps towards the anti mage, backing him up against the work table.

Artemus rolled his eyes and placed a hand against Syryn's shoulder, forcing a good amount of distance between them. "Get to the point Syryn. I'm too tired for games tonight."

"No you're not," Syryn smoothly pulled a stool out and lowered himself on it. Waiting for Artemus to do the same, the mage watched the older man settle down beside him.

"So that really good looking fellow you were provoking tonight; I couldn't have stopped him if he wanted to take my life, let alone take a house tour. I'm not carrying the blame for something that was out of my hands Artemus." Syryn stared at the pattern of the wood grain on his table. Traxdart showing so much interest in them was as terrifying as it was annoying. Syryn had hoped for more time to groom Lucien, and for the both of them to grow in power.

"I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn," Artemus replied after taking in Syryn's words.

The mage was pulled out of his thoughts by the reply. He had been waiting to ask the anti mage a question that had been prodding at him and it seemed like a good opportunity to.

"Artemus, I know that you were wary of him, that you sensed the cavern of power that hid underneath his affable exterior," Syryn could tell that Artemus was beginning to feel uncomfortable by the line of questioning. Good.

"So professor, where the hell did your IQ disappear to when you senselessly provoked him? With allusions towards my lack of self-preservation no less, which I think makes you a hypocrite. Enlighten me, Artemus." Syryn tapped a finger against the table and it sounded very loud in the quietness that the anti mage had retreated into.

An interlude of silence followed Syryn's question. Artemus finally raised his chin and looked at the ceiling like he was hoping it would fall on his head and just put him out of his misery.

"I find myself taking leave of my senses when it comes to matters that concern you."

Syryn wasn't quite sure what Artemus was getting at so he allowed the man to continue. "The self-control that I pride myself over just falls apart like sand between my fingers. That's what you do to me," and with a humourless smile, Artemus turned to him. "I'm sorry, I put us all in danger."

Syryn was suddenly struck by how young the anti mage appeared when he said that. He was only 19 despite everything that the anti mage had achieved and experienced. Artemus was young enough that there was still room for mistakes that came from inexperience in dealing with emotional turmoil. It made him human.

"He wouldn't have hurt us... Traxdart wasn't looking to attract unnecessary attention." Syryn replied, softer now.

"Am I allowed the knowledge of his identity?" Somewhere along their conversation, Artemus' tone had shifted. He spoke to Syryn like they stood on even ground, like friends almost.

Syryn had to pause and think about the information he could reveal to Artemus. Could he trust this anti mage? And how far? Syryn needed more allies to his cause, people that wouldn't be swayed by the knowledge that Syryn was half-demon. Could he put his faith in this man whose job included hunting and killing those that were considered a danger to humanity?

Artemus sensed the gravity of Syryn's silent ruminations and allowed the mage his moment of meditation. He was struck by the understanding that they were at a cusp of a change that would shift the balance of power between them to an even greater extent.

"I can tell you who he is but for more information, you'll have to sign a contract of secrecy bound by blood," Syryn replied. It had been a difficult decision to make. The alchemist was staking it on the good feelings that Artemus had towards him. If he could get the anti mage to back him up, it solved an important problem that would arise soon.

"His identity first," Artemus replied. Then he would consider if the additional information was worth drawing up a contract for.

"Traxdart, he is the Emperor of the demonic kingdom" Syryn paused, letting the information sink in. The neutral veil that hid the anti mage's thoughts fluttered off his face and revealed a stunned expression.

"And I won't tell you anything else till you sign a contract," Syryn pressed a finger to the professor's lips. "Nod if you agree."

"Wise decision Artemus. I'm glad I made this when I did," Syryn dug through his satchel to find a sturdy wooden box that was as long as his arm. His nimble fingers pried the lid open and revealed a rolled-up parchment that was covered in lines and lines of spell work. There were at least a few lethal curses on it that gave the anti mage anxiety.

"You did this by yourself?" Artemus glanced away from the parchment and towards Syryn, brows lifted in disbelief. From what he could see, this particular set of rune work for binding magic into the contract was a complex masterpiece that revealed its maker's expertise.

"Yes, take as much time as you want to read through it." Artemus was amazed at how nonchalant the mage was in the face of his own skills.

"Who are you really, Syryn?"

"I'm the guy you made out with inside the puzzle box. Don't look at me like that, Artemus! I'm old enough to warrant being skilled at a lot of trades," Syryn replied with a burst of laughter.

It had taken a quarter of an hour for Artemus to read through the simple but effective contract. It bound him from revealing to a third party the secrets that would be imparted to his ears while the contract absorbed their blood. The punishment for even hinting at the secret included a few painful curses that would befall him. And if he went further, a memory loss spell would trigger, rendering him unable to remember anything including the signing of said contract.

But the most beautiful condition that Artemus appreciated was the one that protected Syryn's secret from being leaked through the intervention of stronger spells meant to disrupt the contract's protections. The contract would alert Syryn, giving him the power to execute Artemus with a powerful blood spell. It was a full proof arrangement and the anti mage was in awe of it. He had never had the opportunity to witness a contract of such expertise - a type of binding that was only adopted at a diplomatic level.

"I'm ready," he placed the parchment down between them. Syryn, who had been waiting for this made a modification to his illusion.

The anti mage responded with a guardedness that appeared just as suddenly, "why this?" his cautious but appreciative gaze took in the sight of a fully grown Syryn. This time, he was dressed in the black and silver clothing that Rowan had provided to him in the tower.

"Because I know that there's still an element of dichotomy surrounding my identity and it's something you're struggling with. I need you to see my real persona when we're signing this contract. This is my primary identity, Artemus, imprint it in your mind." Syryn opened his arms and grandly gestured.

Syryn allowed the anti mage to absorb his words and the sight of him, all of him. It was unfortunate that an illusion was just that, a mirage that couldn't be touched. "This is you after a few years," Artemus spoke out loud like he was telling himself that.

"Hmm," Syryn hummed in agreement. "Maybe longer. I'm not exactly a teenager, you know."

"I see," the anti mage replied, mind drifting to what a teenage Syryn would look like. "Let's carry out the contract."

Syryn placed the parchment between them and handed his companion a blade. Two bloody thumbs pressed themselves to the bottom of the parchment where a set of runes were drawn. The threads of their blood quickly seeped into the paper and the runes drank them in, taking in small amounts. When both parties felt the tug of a connection between them, Syryn knew it was time to speak.

"I'm a half-demon," he jumped right to it, noticing how Artemus' eyes went alight with understanding. A missing piece of the puzzle that was Syryn had fallen neatly into place and it filled the anti mage with intense satisfaction.

"And so is Lucien. I have no animosity towards humanity, as unbelievable as it may sound to you. I cannot reveal a lot about myself but I can tell you this much, I'm trapped in a growing body so it's not like I've been deceiving anyone about my age." The contract was still taking in their blood, keeping the magic alive as Syryn talked. There was no time to waste.

"Traxdart is plotting to take over this plane and it is my desire to stop him. He came for a visit tonight because he wanted to see Luci and I. The puzzle box we were trapped in was also his handiwork. I need your help Artemus, to hide behind your identity and set in motion the plans that can stop Traxdart before it all goes to hell."

"If you're a half-demon, how do I know that you aren't part of his grand scheme?" Artemus countered.

"What would I get out of revealing all this information? I understand the lack of trust given the violent track record of my demonic brethren- but I have never given you a reason to suspect my humanity, have I?"

"No, but you should have seen the way you looked at Traxdart. Convince me that it wasn't infatuation that I saw in your eyes Syryn." Artemus touched upon the sour spot that Syryn was hiding away from. As much as he hated Traxdart, years of conditioning could not so easily be washed away.

"That monster saved me from certain death, a sentence that was cast upon me by the same people who are part of the world that I'm now trying to save. I was innocent, a stupid child at the wrong place and the wrong time, and I had to bear the punishment for the crimes of another." Syryn hadn't intended to lose his bearings but the hurt in his heart was still fresh.

"After all this time, despite the hatred he has inspired in me, he was the only one that protected me when I had nothing but a wish to die."

Something in the anti mage shifted and Syryn saw it in his eyes. "I loved him with a fierceness that drove me into doing things I now regret, every day. I can't feign complete indifference towards him. Still, I want him dead Artemus." The truth that rang in Syryn's words were like lead weights that persuaded the anti mage.

Artemus exhaled and held Syryn's gaze. The revelations from the mage had been startling. When Syryn had suggested the contract, Artemus had wondered at what information could be so incriminating that the boy was forced to resort to a blood bound contract.

A half-demon child - the missing piece in his deductions that had led him down several wrong conclusions - was what tied together all the information that he had on Syryn. It certainly wasn't enough to explain away everything but it made the most sense.

Artemus believed Syryn's words, and that was the most damning thread for tonight's revelations. How was he to face the memories of the partner who was killed by the demon that had left Artemus poisoned?