A Pair of Kings

Azazel put on a terse smile at the Demon King's words. "In that sense, you're not wrong. But we're more different than alike, I think."

"Oh?" The Demon King wore a delightful expression, anticipating the way he'd shatter that notion. "Tell me, the verse you gave them, what did it mean exactly?"

Azazel narrowed his eyes dubiously, "You were a star. You should know."

"Let's just say the void makes one forget things," Asmodeus teased, making Azazel's eyelid twitch. "But... you're right." The Demon King smirked, the back-tracking reply making Azazel clutch his head helplessly.

"You say we're not much alike, yet when you made this deal you intended to deceive from the start." the Demon King fired his verbal assault. "When you gave them this verse you forced the twisted form, you induced the power to which they were not entitled, making them claim by their own mouth the throne of God. You expected and wanted them to harm themselves even before the Most High came."

Azazel nodded, "They are lesser spirits with ambition beyond their station. It's no less than what they deserve."

This reply impelled a laugh from Demon King Asmodeus, "And when you learned that humans would be the medium? Did you try to stop this, or change the verse?"

"Well, they would've known-" Azazel tried to defend his actions.

"Exactly," It was Asmodeus' turn to nod. "Anything for the assurance of the lie, am I right?"

These words struck Azazel like Uriel's piercing flame, burning and bleeding him at once. Had he strayed so far from his origin? Even knowing the importance of mankind to Triac, he cast this aside, telling himself he was already fallen. He prioritized his own machinations over the well-being of innocents, just like the Demon King.

"You're right." Azazel admitted. "I must thank you for enlightening me."

Demon King Asmodeus hopped off his arms to stand on two hooves. He stretched out the twisted arms, apparently to relieve some strain, as he replied with a smirk, "Anytime."

"That being said, I must reiterate; What are your intentions here?" Azazel brought it back to the main issue with a stern expression.

"Azazel, were you so uninformed in your days of glory?" Asmodeus teased with a wink, "I do what I've always done; devour those who would let me. I am a simple being. You should be more worried about the intentions of those erratic humans, or capricious gods." Asmodeus tone here abandoned it's snark, coming out even and honest. It sounded almost believable, even from the master of lies.

"And those that would let you devour them here," Azazel took a deep breathe as he prepared to ask the question that would determine the course of this moment. "...are they these capricious gods, or are they my students powering this ritual, whom you call erratic?"

The Demon King's honest expression twisted suddenly in manic, malicious laughter at the question, "That is entirely up to the individual, don't you think?"

Azazel shook his head, before staring into the Demon King's dark, barren eyes in preparation for conflict. "I've heard enough. I must end this here."

The Demon King stretched his neck that was crossed between human and reptilian, the point where his torso and head met a blend of fleshy-pink and forest-green, cracking it loudly. "You think you've got what it takes?" The blood-stained teeth slowly revealed their glistening razors under the wicked smile of the King of Nothing.

Azazel aimed his gaze determinedly up at the Demon King, who's menacing, odorous breathe swept across his face. "I may not match up to you in strength, but I have one advantage."

Asmodeus eyebrow slanted in anticipation, "Oh?" He replied simply.

Azazel's robes began fluttering, and his eyes glowed with a blinding black light as an ethereal, jagged crown was superimposed over his head. "Enemy, first of the fallen," he intoned in a commanding voice. "I, Azazel, by my natural authority as King of the Fallen, command you to cease your infection of this tower at once." His tone remained even and calm, even as it presented an unbreakable strength.

As the command left the King of Fallen's lips the Demon King's wrist twitched for a moment, as if to obey. However, it ended there. The Demon King glowered at Azazel, as he lowered his posture in a bestial combat stance. "You...dare!" His words lost their smooth, melodic twinge as he screeched gutturally and wrathfully, the terrible discordant tones of his voice reverberating around Ischuros like a monstrous amplifier. "You. are. not. worthy!!"

As Azazel retreated in a panic with bleeding ears and eyes, Asmodeus launched forward from his springy goat-like legs, reptilian claws outstretched as he screeched illegibly. The wrath of being even slightly moved against his will overtook his reason, as he mercilessly sought the utter destruction of the King of Fallen who deigned presume authority over he, the supremacy of death, darkness, and Nothing.

The Demon King dug his claws into Azazel's chest, his jaws snapping at his face, as Azazel used all his strength to hold back the biting, screeching draconic face. Azazel's crown spun as dark flame erupted from his eyes, attempting to burn the Demon King's gullet. However, the Demon King's head seemed to phase out of existence momentarily, as the fire shot past where it had been seconds before.

From below, the highest skies seemed to flash with red and black lightning as the screeching from the unknown horror rendered countless hapless citizens and slaves of Ischuros on their knees, screaming. High Priest of M'lak, Amelserrudaku stood tall even as his ears bled, laughing. His sense of pain and pleasure had long since been distorted by the demonic perception of his master, but some tortured figures on the ground looked up at him with envy. In the air by the top of the tower, Urmu screamed in agony, his mystical knowledge working against him. The seemingly unintelligible screams to his knowledge were the vilest of magical curses being flung haphazardly, caring not upon whom they lay; the malice behind these words was all-encompassing.

Osk and Lisma attempted to shield Urmu, but they weren't faring much better, as they felt an incomparable, unshakeable chill settling into their self-formed bones. A tingling sensation accompanied the cold like an army of marching, biting ants up and down each cell in their body. As the cursing screeches reached them however, the coldness within seemed to flare up like a shield. This was what they used to mitigate the damage to Urmu.

As this was happening, Rygald rushed to Osk with an unsettled look. "Osk, something's wrong, this whole thing..."

"Oh, shut up. You think I don't know that? We're working on it. Why did you leave the king?" Osk berated, his temper flaring from his discomfort.

"The king isn't important right now!" Rygald protested earnestly, "It's likely that we were betrayed from the start, and now these screams can only come from one thing; that fallen called the Demon King."

"Don't worry about the Demon King," Osk dismissively replied, "The real problem is whatever Azazel did that's affecting us now." Osk was unaware that his own ally was the source of his current pain, assuming it was part of Azazel's plan.

"Don't worry?" Rygald began incredulously, "It's the Demon King! The. DEMON. KING!" Disbelief was etched across his face as he tried to get across the urgency of their circumstances.

"So what?" This time it was Lisma who spoke, "He's really not so bad as they say, you know." She defended Asmodeus like she really believed it.

"Have you gone mad!" Rygald's green, decomposed jaw hung agape on his handsome face. "He's defined by his malice for life! Don't tell me you've gone and bargained with the fiend." His last words were a hyperbolic statement meant to shock his sister and his leader out of their irrational state, however, their gazes briefly shot downwards in an expression of shame. They quickly recovered, but Rygald had noticed. "No..." He muttered in horror.

"Well, so what!" Osk echoed Lisma's earlier sentiment, "He will empower us, even in the midst of Azazel's betrayal. He will raise us to great heights. Rygald..." Osk looked at the god of spirits and undead with pleading eyes, "He offered me the Deep."

Rygald inhaled deeply in shock. He knew this was Osk's greatest ambition since being trapped on this planet. Slowly, however, he regained his calm, shaking his head. "Do you really want to be under the Demon King's thumb, even if you gain your ultimate goal? Is it worthwhile, Osk? You've been our leader since we came here together, and it was right for you to be. Use that judgement which landed you that role now."

Osk scowled and turned his head in silence. Rygald stepped his way to try and persuade further, but was interrupted.

"Rygald," Lisma stretched out a finger to stroke her brother's cheek gently, "It's too late. We have made our pact. There's only one question left; are you with us?"

Rygald shuddered, as he stared at the glowing skies, clashing sounds of battle and screeches of the Demon King's curses echoing without end. What a horrific thing to be bound to. He looked to Osk and Lisma; family and friendship was also on the line. As he mulled it over, a thunderous bang accompanied by a flash of light startled everyone present, and the screeching finally stopped. A crowned silhouette plummeted to the ground below.

The figure zipped by Rygald and his companions, black and purple robes fluttering violently. "That's Azazel!" Lisma cried out excitedly. Rygald, almost on instinct, shot after the falling avatar of the fallen star, catching his head just before it hit the ground. "What are you doing?!" Lisma complained from above. "He betrayed us, you know!"

Ignoring his sister's protests, Rygald addressed the bleeding, beaten Azazel. "This is bigger than gods and stars now. The Demon King is involved. Let's unite, and free my friends and sibling from his rule."

Azazel weakly lifted his eyelids, confusion and admiration shining from his eyes, along with some despair. "You are truly different, Rygald. If only-" Azazel convulsed in agony, the pain halting his speech. "It matters little now. I cannot help you. But the Most High comes, I can feel it. You still may have hope. Go. Find him-" Azazel clutched his ruptured chest as he curled into a fetal pose. Rygald, feeling rushed and desperate, dropped Azazel's head there, and took off in the direction the King of Fallen had gestured towards when mentioning the Most High. He had some pleading to do, it seemed. 'How humiliating,' he thought, but if he could save the others from the clutches of the Demon King, he would humble himself a million times.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Lisma shouted at him in confusion.

"Follow him." Osk ordered, glaring at the point of the horizon where Rygald vanished.

Lisma nodded, offered a flirtatious smile to Urmu, then darted after her brother.