"What do you want?" As soon as Aron felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, stepping back from the stranger, grimacing. When he saw Astrael, a shiver ran down his spine and he hunched his shoulders, lowering his head. The man's dark eyes struck him deeply, stirring in him both repulsion and attraction: who was that man? Why was his presence so disruptive? Aron looked around, convinced they were being watched, but no one noticed their interaction.
He swallowed.
"What do I want? Let me think about it..." the man whispered with a wicked grin, then slowly stretching his smile, ran his eyes down the frightened young man's body: "I want you." After uttering those words, Aron's vision blurred, and as his eyelids drooped, then quickly lifted, he found himself in a dark alley.
Only then did he realize that the man who had grabbed him moments earlier in the inn wasn't human; he had heard tales of creatures capable of enchanting people and using magical arts to mock humans. Some called them demons, others witches, sorcerers, devils, evil spirits... what mattered was knowing that in the face of the threat, there was no escape except supplication; this sometimes aroused a deep and perverse satisfaction in the evil one, prompting him to lessen the pain inflicted on the victim. At least, that's what Aron had read somewhere, probably in one of the libraries of the sanctuary in his hometown. As a child, he would take refuge there to avoid being caught by his parents when they wanted to punish him.
"W-what do you want from me? I beg your forgiveness!"
Aron threw himself to the ground, lowering his head to.
Suddenly, his vision distorted again, and when the demon spoke, his impetuous voice and harsh tone resonated in a cold, ghostly space. They were in an unfamiliar cemetery; Aron didn't recognize it. The man quickly stood up, but when he found himself in front of Astrael, he stepped back, tripping over something. His feet lifted off the ground and his body plummeted, landing with a thud at the bottom of what must have been a pit.
"Have mercy! I've done nothing wrong! What do you want from me?!"
"Shut up!"
It was easy to restore silence. Astrael's eyes reddened, and throwing some dirt at Aron from above the pit, the boy convinced himself he was going to bury him alive! He fell silent and anxious, terrified and confused; he didn't know what to look at, how to behave to convince the demon. Begging wasn't enough; perhaps he had to become his slave? Maybe that was the solution!
"I'll be your slave, I'll give you my soul in exchange... please..." He tremblingly announced his proposal, and Astrael simply snorted.
"I hate humans like you. Weak, cowardly, useless... how many more words can I use? Infinite! Blame it on your myriad languages and your chronic ineptitude!"
The evil man took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. He was already tired: it wasn't fun like he thought.
Suddenly, he was overcome by a deep, strong desire to speak to Grimilde, perhaps embarrass her in front of her beloved princess. It would be much more interesting than threatening a young man with an insignificant presence.
"Please..." the boy continued to whimper, while Astrael continued his internal debate. At one point, he turned, shoving more dirt toward Aron, and announced loudly: "I've decided! I will judge your goodwill towards me... if you tell me the truth, I'll keep you alive, otherwise... I'll have to suffocate you!"
He laughed cheerfully, as if he'd told a joke, and Aron paled even more. His dry lips trembled before he moved to articulate his response: "O-of course! I'll tell the truth! Don't kill me!"
"Then it's a good thing, I'll have to spare myself a burial on this beautiful evening. The question is simple: what are you doing wandering around the capital? And be careful... I recognize lies and I don't like liars... their screams make me a bit peckish." The demon hissed, glaring down at the young man. Aron trembled all over, but he steeled himself and spoke:
"My lord, my great lord! I would have fled Arran as quickly as possible, but a man along the path stopped me, offering me a lot of money in exchange for information! He asked me to infiltrate the capital and then the queen's castle... that's all I know!"
"And who was this fellow? Let's hear it."
"I don't know. I don't know! I can describe him, I swear I'm not lying,"
Aron stated hastily, continuing with the description: "He was in a carriage, escorted by guards... I didn't see the the bulwark, I was just holding my head so no one could see me. I remember his voice, deep and heavy, and he was wearing a golden ring with a red stone set in its center!"
"Did this deep-voiced man say anything else, Aron?"
"I... I don't know... oh. He said he'd give me further instructions within a week of my arrival in the capital. I should probably meet someone to establish my new identity... I can't go around as Aron if the guards are looking for me."
"Right... but you see, Aron, we have a problem."
"P-problem? What problem?" the victim stammered, trying to remain still. For some reason, he believed that if he moved, even an inch, he would be killed immediately. Astrael bent his knees and leaned his torso toward the pit: "You have tried to betray the Queen of Arran again, and I cannot let you go unpunished."
Before Aron could scream at the top of his lungs, Astrael raised a finger, silencing him: "I will take you to her. The queen will decide your fate, Aron."
Astrael's face contorted inhumanly: his lips stretched into a demonic smile, stretching beyond human limits, revealing sharp teeth and sharp, red eyes. Aron fainted instantly.
~•~•~
Grimilde, Doc, and Snow White were currently in the queen's office, and the blonde was preparing to reveal some recent discoveries. Aron had fled, and her guards couldn't find him: who knew if he'd already left the capital's borders and was hiding deep in the forest surrounding the city. Grimilde couldn't relax even for a moment until she captured the man.
Aron was a threat. She would do well to imprison him somewhere and squeeze some useful information from him. She was still far too unprepared for a betrayal, even though she knew from which part of the kingdom it could come. Her doubts about Terran had been confirmed when she sent her personal spies to monitor the province: she'd been informed of an increase in traffic within Arran's borders, especially the arms trade, and some nobles had imposed themselves on the locals, not following the kingdom's rules and laws. They were gradually becoming independent and stronger, strengthening their defenses, probably in preparation for war.
In particular, she had learned that the Marquis of Terran had crossed the border of the capital, without visiting the queen. What business had brought him before her?
He was probably searching for the weaknesses of the kingdom he wished to betray...
"Grimilde?" Snow White called her attention. If she could, she would have approached to comfort her, as she was clearly distressed by her thoughts, but Doc's presence in the room prevented her from moving freely. Speaking of him, the dwarf adjusted his glasses, his eyes widening as he surveyed the royal office.
"You have many books, Your Majesty..."
"Call me Grimilde when we're together... and feel free to read something during your stay at court." The queen composed herself and smiled at the man, then at the princess. His eyes expressed affection and reassurance, before turning serious as he began to tell those present what he had recently discovered.
"Who would walk in the sunlight, knowing that the kingdom's guards are searching for him throughout the capital and its surroundings?"
"Someone with a plan in mind... or rather, someone behind him."