Chapter 30 #3
“You know what these are?” I ask, keeping my distance from the newly possessed darkbloods. I’m half surprised one hasn’t tried to enter me yet. Maybe a half-demon is just not very appealing for their brand of spirit. Less easy to control, for sure, I’d bet.
“Oh yes,” he replies. “Ancient mage spirits. Also known as Ides.” His eyes narrow as he studies the claimed darkbloods. “Still younger than my time, though.”
“How old are you?” I murmur. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Behemoth watches another darkblood rise, shadows moving in her eyes.
“Old enough that questions like that stopped being polite several thousand years ago.”
I stare at him. “Right… And you’re a prince. Which means your father is still alive and… even older than you.”
Behemoth’s mouth twitches faintly at that.
“Unfortunately.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Demon politics. I don’t think you’re ready for it yet. Let’s first focus on getting you comfortable with your nature.” His gaze shifts back to the newly risen darkbloods.
“But this,” he murmurs, “is an interesting development. Darkbirch has actually unleashed Ides.”
“What’s interesting about it from your perspective?”
He shifts his weight slightly on the path. “It could affect… the balance of things. Even demons have an interest in balance.”
“And that’s not a vague answer or anything.”
He gives a soft chuckle. “Balance keeps the mortal world interesting. Varied. No one side should ever have too much power.”
“And if they do?” I ask.
His eyes flick briefly to the sky, where a stray, shadowy spirit circles above the battlefield. “Then someone, or something, usually takes steps to correct it. Just how the universe works.”
Balance. The word strikes an odd chord in me. It’s something I’ve always instinctively felt a need for, long before Darkbirch threw Esme into those Ide trials. Maybe it’s yet another part of my nature I’m only just starting to understand.
Demons thrive on chaos. Every text says so.
But chaos doesn’t exist in a vacuum. If one side ever truly crushed the others—if a realm became too orderly, too controlled—there’d be nothing left to corrupt.
Nothing left to tempt, twist, or tear down again.
Chaos needs resistance. Needs tension. Needs balance.
Maybe that’s the truth of it. Demons don’t care about balance because they’re noble guardians of the cosmic scales. They care because without it, the game ends. Their weird, twisted games…
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Anyway, I guess we’re done here,” I mutter.
The possessed darkbloods begin moving away from us, heading toward the north side of the settlement. They don't seem hostile, but they don't acknowledge us anymore either. It's like we've suddenly become irrelevant to whatever mission now drives them.
Behemoth watches them retreat, his eyes burning with interest. Then he turns to me.
“Whatever else I had planned for you can wait,” he says. “I’d like to stop by this Darkbirch and see what's going on over there. If the Ides are awakening across all darkblood covens, that’s significant.”
I freeze, instantly regretting my mention of Darkbirch. “Wait,” I say cautiously. “Why go there exactly?”
“Curiosity.”
I shift uncomfortably, trying to keep my expression neutral. Darkbirch. Where Brynn is. Where she's probably dealing with all of this Ide chaos right now. The thought of Behemoth near her makes something primal and protective rise in my throat.
“It's not a great idea,” I say, aiming for casual. “Darkbirch has strong defenses. They've just undergone a massive transformation with these Ides. They'd sense you coming from miles away.”
Behemoth's eyes narrow, that burning gaze seeming to peer straight through me. “Relax, Baal-liah. I merely wish to observe. These Ides are fascinating. Ancient power awakening after centuries of dormancy deserves at least a passing glance, wouldn't you agree?”
I cross my arms. “Sure, but—”
“What has you so protective of this place?” he interrupts. “Wouldn’t they see you as a threat, or an enemy?”
“Well, I wasn't their enemy,” I reply, the words sounding strained even to my own ears. “It was... complicated.”
I can't bring myself to mention Brynn. Don't even want her name to form in my thoughts with him standing so close.
Something tells me that demons—especially ancient, powerful ones like Behemoth—can sense vulnerabilities the way they can, apparently, detect violence from miles away.
And Brynn is definitely my vulnerability.
“I just think we should be strategic,” I continue, trying to sound reasonable. “We don't know how these Ides might react to a demon prince approaching their sanctuary. Could provoke them.”
Behemoth's mouth curves into something that's not quite a smile. “I can be subtle when necessary.”
I somehow doubt that.
“There will be no problems,” he says, firm.
I exhale. “Fine,” I say, knowing I can't actually stop him. If I argue too hard, he might decide to just go by himself. That would be worse. It’s better I at least go with him. “But we observe only. From a distance.”
“Of course,” he agrees too easily.
We leave the settlement behind us, heading toward a quiet clearing where Behemoth will no doubt recreate his portal. I feel his gaze on the back of my neck, and it feels heavy. Assessing.
“You know,” he says casually, “demons have exceptional senses. Especially full demons. We can detect many things humans cannot.”
“Yeah?” I say, not looking back.
“Mmm. Lies, for instance. Or... attraction.”
I feel my expression tighten.
“Your heart rate increased significantly when we discussed Darkbirch,” he continues. “There's someone there, isn't there? Someone important to you.”
“Just colleagues,” I say, too quickly. “I spent some time there... Old friends.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh. “If you say so.”
I walk the rest of the way in silence.