The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Sebastian had arrived to coerce Syryn one last time and the teen had finally capitulated.

"I have two conditions." Syryn raised his slender fingers in the air. 

"One, I wear a veil." 

"Acceptable."

"Two, nobody finds out who I am." 

"Ohh, that's not gonna be easy." 

Without Salem around, the workroom had been getting untidy. It was cleaning day, and Sebastian had been roped into Syryn's quest for a room that was just as clean as if Salem had never left. Wet cloth in his hand, Sebastian was hard at work wiping down the window glass. 

"I don't care, Sebastian. Is it a yes or no?"

"It's a yes. I'm just lettin' ya know that the emperor will have questions about you." 

The emperor was invested in ferreting out a wife for Sebastian and was using the Lunar festival as a ruse to create a dating opportunity. He believed that marriage would mellow out their philandering mage. His stressed-out heart did not have the vigour to withstand another diplomatic incident born out of Sebastian's dalliance with some royal lady. 

"Why would the emperor be interested in who plays Cassiopeia?" 

"It's complicated, S'ryn. I've told the emperor that I have a fiance and she's playing Cass." 

Syryn's hand stilled. "Sebastian." 

"It was either that or get saddled with one of the numerous coddled noble girls who can't even hold a sword in its proper position." 

Syryn turned and raised his brow at the mage. "You want a swordswoman wife?" 

"Course not. I said that because Cassiopeia is a warrior and my partner for the night. It's just the two of us versus the night king and his thirty soldiers. Ya think I'd want to waste time with a delicate flower distractin' me?" 

"Wait, go back to what you said before that. You told the emperor that I'm a girl?" 

"Eh.. not exactly. I just didn't tell him you're a man." 

Syryn's jaw fell open at Sebastian's audacity. "And when he finds out that we've deceived him-"

"Ya don't hafta worry about that, S'ryn. I'll handle it. On my magic, it's a promise." 

"Then tell me right now what clue you've discovered." Maybe, just maybe Syryn could pull a fast one over Sebastian. 

The mage folded his arms and eyed Syryn like he was thinking about it. "If I tell you about it before the festival, ya might renege on our deal and I'll be stuck looking for a new queen." 

"Come on, Seb, don't you trust me?" 

"I do trust you, S'ryn. I just think yer also unpredictable and sneaky." 

The look of hurt on Syryn's face did not shake Sebastian's decision. "I'll tell ya as soon as they burn the effigy." 

"That's one week! One whole week of endangering mages. You're a selfish man who would guard his interest at the expense of another's life." Syryn was brimming with self-righteous energy. If one did not know what he truly was like, it would have been no fault on their part falling for his dramatics. 

"Ya mean dumb mages," Sebastian scoffed. "A-mu's colleagues have been putting out warnings since the killings began. If they can't be arsed to care about their own lives then that's on them."

The mage's reasoning made sense but Syryn wasn't about to give up. "What about the ones that haven't heard about the warnings, hmm? It's only fair to them."

"S'ryn, just say ya don't want to help me then," Sebastian replied with a forlorn sigh. "I'll find someone else." He dipped the cleaning cloth into his bucket and quietly got to work on another window. 

"You sly bastard," Syryn ground out when it appeared that the mage was intent on remaining silent. "I'll do it but only because I have to know about the squid. In addition, I have a third condition." 

Sebastian turned around to grin at the alchemist. "What third condition?"

"Ask Artemus out on a date." 

"What?"

"Ask.Artemus.Out.On.A.Date." 

"Artemus?"

"Did I stutter?" 

The mage groaned. "Just take my life and be done with it." 

"That's the spirit, Seb. Now we're both miserable." 

"If A-mu kills me, it'll be your fault, S'ryn."

"Good. You'd deserve it too."

--------

Syryn was out in the garden, re-reading the files on the caravan murders just in case he'd missed out on something. He was under an old oak tree whose thick crown protected him from the sun. 

To his surprise, the air next to him suddenly split apart like a dark mouth opening to swallow whatever was in front of it. Under his shocked gaze, Salem walked out followed by a bright-eyed Alka. He had not known there was a gate to the lost path out here in their garden.

"Syryn, what are you reading?" The blonde alchemist asked like it was just another typical day walking out of the lost path after a week's disappearance without prior notice.

"Classified documents. Where have you been?" His gaze flickered to Alka who smiled in his direction. It was the smile of a junkie who had just taken a shot of adrenaline.

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" Salem stood before him now and Syryn could see the lines of weariness that creased his smile. 

"Short answer for now, please." 

"I was out verifying Lumi's story. Turns out he's a war criminal wanted by the Iron claw tribe. There's a very big bounty on his head." 

Salem allowed the teenager a few moments to take it all in. "A war criminal," Syryn repeated. "Tell me everything." 

Salem nodded to him. "Let's get inside." 

------

A few days had passed since Syryn had found out that the avian in their home had betrayed his tribe for the sake of love. Lumi had been in love with Riaku, Prince of the Sky forge tribe, the people that his Stone Claw tribe had been at war with for many years. Riaku had feigned feelings for the avian who was fascinated by the enemy prince. It didn't take very long for the prince to ensnare Lumi in an affair that ended with the annihilation of the Stone Claw tribe. Making good use of the intelligence that Lumi had provided to prince Riaku, the protracted war between the two tribes finally came to a bloody end.

Lumi had narrowly escaped Riaku's sword during the war. It was a cruel revelation to the bird. The prince was done using him and it was time to end the farce. Aya had fortunately saved him but was injured in the process. The rest of the story went as he had told it. They were captured by opportunistic slave traders only to end up in Riha's prison chamber. In due course of time, the Iron Claw tribe - sister to the Stone claw tribe - had found out about Lumi's treachery and escape. A truce was settled between the Iron Claw and Sky forge tribes, and now both were looking to capture Lumi for sentencing. 

When Syryn had questioned Salem about his reasons for chasing Lumi's history, the blonde had merely implied that his curiosity had driven him to it. The older alchemist had informed Syryn that the trip had answered the question that bothered him. Further enquiries went unanswered. The younger alchemist turned to Alka to fill in the holes. 

Salem apparently bore a striking resemblance to prince Riaku. Alka had said so with a knowing look that Syryn interpreted to be his version of a sly glance. The reason why Lumi stared at Salem all the time, acted out when he saw them together in the workroom, his strange obsession - everything was answered in that tiny revelation. 

"Now what do we do?" The alchemist had asked Alka. 

"Bear the crime of sheltering a war criminal, I guess. And deliberate withholding of information about his whereabouts." In those words, Alka had succinctly encapsulated a new crisis that befell upon them. 

"Are we handing him over?" Syryn had asked. It was an important decision he could not make alone.

"Whether or not he wanted it, Lumi's decision caused the death of all his tribesmen. Real-life decisions come with consequences, Syryn. It's up to you to decide what to do though." 

And that was why Syryn was writing a note to Artemus about a potential diplomatic row that could erupt out of their unintentional harbouring of a wanted man. Lumi had made his bed and it was time to lay on it. 

"Let's do a fittin', S'ryn. I'm here ta measure out your body for the royal tailors who are waitin' ta sew ya a gorgeous dress fit for a queen." The mage arrived with a measuring tape that evening. 

"What lies did you feed the emperor?" That the royal tailors would not insist on meeting the person they were sewing for had Syryn wondering what excuses had been peddled at the palace. 

"Don't worry about that S'ryn. Just do as I say and nobody will know it was you the entire time." 

"No, I need the story. Just what did you tell the emperor?" 

Sebastian expertly measured out Syryn's chest and wrote a different number than what he had measured. The mage was giving him a bosom it seemed. 

"Ya really want ta know?" Now he measured Syryn's waist. 

"No, I'm just asking because I've got nothing better to do." His sarcastic answer brought a smile out of Sebastian. 

"Told him I'm keepin' you a secret because I wanna protect ya from my enemies." The tape went to his shoulders next. "I requested the emperor for some time. So once you're done with this, you'll have nothin' ta worry about. His majesty will pester me for your Identity and I can tell him that ya dumped me after discoverin' me in bed with another woman. That'll give him some other reason to harass me about." 

Syryn raised his arm when Sebastian lifted it slightly. He couldn't understand why the mage had cooked up such a convoluted plot when all he had to do was refuse the emperor. Could the ruler of Sigil really force a citizen to marry a woman of his choosing? 

"Ask," Sebastian told him. "Your silence is noisy."

"How can silence be noisy?"

"Just ask, S'ryn." 

The alchemist watched Sebastian measure out the length of his body with the tape. "What's the harm in choosing a woman for this- this ruse? It would be vastly simpler to just hire a lady who can act as your lover." 

"It's more fun when it's you, S'ryn. I'm teasin' someone. Let's leave it at that." 

Who could Sebastian be teasing? The mage was done taking his measurements. Sebastian put his tape and paper away. 

"S'ryn, I might put my arm around ya or kiss you on the forehead in front of people. Would that make you uncomfortable?" He punctuated the question with a serious look on his face.

"Trying to be respectful, are we? Didn't you already kiss my lips you dumb mage?" 

Sebastian blanched at Syryn's words. "Don't say it like that! What if someone heard and misunderstood ya?"

"What's there to misunderstand, Sebastian? Did you or did you not put your mouth on mine?" Now the alchemist was gleefully enjoying the mage's discomfort. "I'm only 16 and you did that to me. Pervert!" 

Sebastian slammed a palm to Syryn's mouth. "Are you crazy? Artemus could walk in right now and-" Syryn stuck his tongue out and licked the offending palm. The mage jolted and pulled his hand away like it had been burnt. 

"S'ryn!! You have no idea where this hand has been!" Sebastian began to laugh at the disgusted look on Syryn's face. 

"Get out! Out!" 

The mage gathered his things quickly and was escorted out of the house by the annoyed alchemist. There was just too much fun to be had when Syryn was around. Sebastian had a feeling that Syryn would make the festival a very enjoyable experience for him this time around.

_______

Artemus had sent him a reply to his letter and it was a single line. 

'Don't let him leave the house.' 

He had further been intimated that in accordance with his advice, the remains of the caravan victims were being examined by priests. They were more sensitive to the darker elements of magic and Syryn hoped that the priests would find traces of a curse or something just as malicious on the corpses. 

Setting aside his thoughts on the case, Syryn ran his gaze down the shimmering dress that had been delivered to his home by Sebastian. To say that the dress was gorgeous was an understatement. It was breathtaking and magical. The cloth seemed to be woven out of moonlight. And when Syryn touched it, the material was smooth like silk. How terrible, he had thought. To waste such a beautiful thing on a man like him, what was Sebastian thinking? 

His sights wandered over to the padded piece of female innerwear that hung next to it and Syryn sighed. His flat chest would look nice in a dress with that on. The alchemist did not enjoy the thought of wearing all of that but the spirit of experimentation buoyed his mood. He would do this for the sake of knowledge. 

"You're really doing this." Salem's tone was dry. 

"For knowledge and experience, I will do justice to the hard work put in by the royal tailors." 

"You'll make a very beautiful queen." Salem's gaze landed on the crystal crown from which a gossamer-thin veil fluttered like a butterfly's wing. 

"You would too," Syryn told the blonde alchemist only to receive a wry smile for it. 

_________

The festival had, as always, arrived on the night of a lunar eclipse. It was celebrated all over Sigil but no city could compete with the resplendence that Elysium had been clothed in. Every house had an illusory faux moon levitating and glowing softy above its roof. From a distance, the moons danced like a thousand fireflies out to illuminate a dark night. 

Inside a mansion that was situated in the neighbourhood where all the nobles built their homes, a tall blonde man slipped his hand into a glove that was the colour of ebony. 

"Remind me again, why are we doing this?" The blonde man's companion was dressed in the same black clothing but also had on a black half-mask behind gold eyes. 

"You ask too many questions, Vincent. I told you not to follow me, didn't I?" Blue eyes were soon covered up under a full face mask just as black as the rest of his clothing. Now the man was a form of darkness, cloaked entirely in black from his hooded head to the dark boots that seemed to absorb the light. He was the Night King, dressed and ready to do battle with the Lunar King. 

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