Devil Council [Algos/Mat]

The glaring light of the afternoon sun reflected down on the burning earth of Demon World. With nothing but crimson sands spreading in every direction, the simmering heat of this place would make weaker demons quiver and high-tail it out of here. In spite of this obnoxious heat, the Princess of Demon World walked alone for dozens of miles as her own scarlet tears continued to flow down her face.

She would never let her enemies, allies, or those in Shadow Fall and the royal family see her like this after the year she had.

Still -- there was so much pain in her heart.

Ulv, a person who was close to becoming something of a lover and mother to her children, was going to die soon. Her own sister disbanded from her family that she gave everything for, her spiritual sister was on the verge of death, her child was kidnapped, Demon World in Chaos, and her whole family hated her. All of these actions and failures were mounting on her heart and it hurt to be so alone and hated as she still clung to her power in the demon world.

That's right -- power.

Power is the only reason these scum have not taken her life or imprisoned her. This great cluster of suffering in her heart only made the woman's contempt, strength, and resolve to endure this existence's unlimited forms of torment all the more potent. In this way, a deathly groan bled out of the woman's heart as an eruption of blackened energy darkened the sky and bled acidic rains down upon the blood sands. This was her place to mourn, sob and cry her soul out without bringing down the perception of demons on her.

So much weight, so much responsibility; she wanted to do Neoveta justice, but it turns out she was just turning into a bigger mess than even her mother.

"Ah, maybe I'm not as great as I think I am...."

In those hurt words, the woman fell to her knees; scarlet tears still dripping to the now blackened earth as this dense, chaotic, and foul energy spread out throughout the lands.

Still -- was there someone she could turn to? Perhaps. Memories of a man that even her mother found council in her times of trouble crept into her mind. The Princess did recall being advised by her mother to seek him out if there should ever be a time in her rule that things were dark and she was uncertain of where to turn.

That man -- that man was Mat The Devourer. A creature nearly as old as her own father: Deveta.

With this burning thought in her mind, Algos knew that since she had her mother's extract in her that she too was linked to this man. So, through that connection, she'd send a telepathic impulse to the man and took a shot in the dark to share her coordinates with him so that he may give her his advice on this blackened circumstance she was.

"I...am prideful demon. I...am strong of will. But please, I need someone to help me. I put aside that pride to ask for your help..."

The flames of change seemed to burn brightly, all consuming in their destruction and rebirth. An endless cycle in which The Devourer has been spectator too. How many demonic empires have risen and fell in his life time? How many demons rose so high to come crashing down unto the planet, shattering into a billion pieces to never be seen again? Far too many to count. Far too many for him to remember every one of their names. But there came times where he could briefly recall the memories of things long since passed, flickers of lights within the immense void of creation.

So you can only imagine the amusement of Mat, a name which he adopted only to hide his true nature, when he felt the call of the almighty Algos. If there was ever a child of his people whom needed his guidance, it was her. A baby in the grand scheme of the world, given power and responsibility far beyond her scope. It was inevitable that she would fail, and fail, and fail. It was almost like fate held a cruel opinion of her, seeking to grind whatever her achievements where to ash before her.

"You wish to have my help?"

The words poured into the demonic realm with a sinister twist, an amusement which seemed to echo throughout the realm. A true devil whom was relishing this unique taste of pain. As the world seemed to become an overwhelming huge mass of demonic energy. The sky darkened as corruption spilled forth from the soil, as the world it's seemed to bend to the will of the elder demon. A hand would emerge out of the darkness, tearing apart space and reality, as a bronze hand would claw it's way into the realm. The aura of Mat filling the world with a putrid aroma, uncaring about its effect upon the world.

A loud breath was taken, sucking in energy and influence. For lesser demons, for those mere fledgling abominations, the power within the air was intoxicating. It was corrupting. It was the most pure form of demonic expression, distilled into a singular man who poured out from the abyss. As a grin adorned his features, teeth fashioned into only the image of a smile. His teeth bloodied and crimson, as if he had just had a meal. Of what, was anyone's guess.

"Oh dear child, what could you possibly require from a being such as myself? Have you not indulged your nature, have you not suffered like we should, have you not tasted the sweet nectar of true utter please?"

The words poured out like water, gliding across his tongue in a way which seemed mocking but was not. Instead it was but his true nature, a demon speaking unto another creature of utter misfortune and pain. For what else where their existence if not agony, what where they if not negativity made incarnate? Given physical form to be the corrupting influence through the world.

Mat would take a few steps towards her, uncaring for his own safety as his hands reached out to her. His hands cupping her face softly, as crimson irises with black sclera stared upon her. A grin so wide upon his face it threatened to almost split his head in two. A sight which would adorn the nightmares of many men, women, and truly stared upon her. But yet, as he gripped her face there was nothing but overwhelming warmth and affection. As if no matter what she has done, what she had did, this man would take care of them. That he, himself, would always be here solely for her.

What was a father, if not, attentive, to their children in their time of need?

"O' speak unto me, my dear Algos, what I could do for you. Speak it, cry it, rip it from your lungs."

In the air around Algos, nothing but turmoil for the few moments prior to Mat's arrival. Then, when he did arrive, there was a light and the demoness felt at ease having someone else intrude upon this remote suffering. The colossal weight of the woman's actions, sins, and hellish blood that was smeared against the depths of her soul was becoming like ropes ready to slit her throat clean off. So, in a way, Algos accepted that this was the natural course of events. Nothing could forever stay high, right? Hence, the woman rose to her feet and stared at the visage of the smiling, bronze man before echoing out in a weary voice.

"There is such a saying that you can have too much of a good thing. I've long since passed that point of intoxication and entered into the false-paradise of an alcoholic's hell on this drink called suffering that my nature loves so much."

While honest words flowed from the woman's mouth, at this moment, she just wanted to hold someone and reverted back to the essence of Neoveta within her that was just reaching out for someone, anyone, to hold and care for. Many saw this demon as a father-figure to their kind, but Algos's blood eyes only saw someone who wanted to help their kind and it is that essence which the former-incarnation of her saught.

"Where do I go from here? My child is in a foreign land possessed by the spirit of an enemy that I'm forced to love, my lover of my children is on death's door at any moment, my sister left me because of my actions, my family's patience is wearing thin, the weight of our wars is apparent on this world and I'm left feeling as if I've failed as a Princess and let myself become a copy of a mother."

Body shaking from the stress, strain, and hell of this reality; Algos only longed to go back to the uncorrupted vessel of love she was Neoveta. Or, to go further back and spend her time in paradise with her beloved Pseu and be that clingy sister just grasping at her kins love. Instead, she was standing in this cold world of consequence. Her soul and body knew this is what her karma was bringing and it hurt to face the sum result of these decisions in her descent into the Asthavon curse of madness.

"Every fiber of being is screaming to destroy and kill my sister as if I don't, I'll lose Pseu to the person who wants nothing to do with me. Yet, if I do that, I'll further lose my credibility as a Princess of this world and further chaos would ensue in my family."

Pausing for a moment, the woman's deadened eyes looked back up at Mat before grasping at his cheek with the utmost of woe behind her eye.

"I just...want to be a good royal. It wasn't supposed to be like this. At my death, I was supposed to do everything Neoveta couldn't and I've only made her life worse and ruined what was once a pure being."

Now moving closer to his face, the woman asked one more time:

"What do I do? I loathe asking for help as it goes against my pride, but it's apparent if I keep on this path nothing but ruin awaits..."

If he was capable of sympathy, pity, or the strange combination of emotions he felt; he certainly felt something to the princess. In all his demonic years he had seen tragedies equaling that of the greatest heroes and villains, so he certainly seen something like this before. But that did not mean he did not feel strongly about the situation she found herself in. After all, was it not in some part his duty to guide her as best he could? To offer salvation or destruction? In him, Algos could feel a deep radiating warmth from one of the oldest among their kind. Like that of a familiar and welcoming sensation as she touched him.

Without speaking he would lift his arm languidly, before bringing the bronze limb around her shoulder. Soon his other arm would wrap around her other shoulder pulling her into an embrace. His hand coming to rest against the back of her head, guiding her towards his chest. She could feel the slow, rhythmic, beat of his heart. Like the cadence of a drum, unfaltering and consistent with each passing second. Tranquility in it's most manifested form.

"It is well, and good, you sought me out. For it appears you have arrived to the crossroads which I seldom hope our kind reaches." He'd mutter with the utmost solemnity and reverence he could muster, as if this was a great occasion. His hand would stroke the back of her hair gently, easing the demoness as he spoke. "I am proud of you, and yet, my existence now weeps for you. How you are so young, and yet, now must suffer an eternity." He'd mourn softly, before tilting his head to rest against her own.

"On the crossroads, a demon must decide between two choices. Our existences and race perpetuates it's self on the destruction of our kind, you know many of us die before even our first century. Those brief, yet beautiful, lights in this chaos extinguish themselves early. Always a joy to watch as they indulge themselves into oblivion, to eventually be unmade by their own hands or some folly. Exemplars of what we should be. For the brightest among us, return to chaos, before they know the true suffering of our existence."

His calm baritone would lecture her on the finer points of his philosphy. Like a pastor speaking unto a new convert. Giving them the truth behind salvation and damnation. In this moment, all else did not matter. All that mattered for him, was this moment, at this time, with her. She held his full attention, removing any thought of the outside world.

"Destruction is the first choice. The second choice, the crueler choice, the one I must endure with, is maturity. To understand our existence is nothing but suffering, and that we may only indulge ourselves in moderation. When a demon gains their thrills through lying, they shall lie so much until the point they no longer gain joy. Requiring the lies to become grander, and grander until nothing else gets them their satisfaction. In such a situation, destruction is preferable. However, should they learn moderation- to instead make their schemes smaller, to do them less frequently, to...limit themselves then they shall become mature. Wise even." He pauses, his voice becoming almost mournful.

"But they give up something transcendent. To go against our nature, and limit ourselves. To existence, such as I. So many wish it, yet know not the pain. My dear, Algos, I fear it is time you make a choice. Destruction or Maturity. Should you wish for one, I shall aide you. Should you wish for maturity, I shall weep for you. A thousand bloody tears. But I will teach you. Show you. Give you what seek." He slowly pulls back from her, his fingers rolling through her hair.

"To be a good royal, or bad, does not matter. Forget our people, forget the cursed nation you inherited. Forget your family. Forget it all. I ask of you, in this most private of moments, my dear, what does Algos Ashtavon want?"

There was a deep well of unbridled pride which flowed in the ego which compromised the soul of Algos. Of course, there was warmth from the other elder demonic being that flowed into her own. The extract of Mana that existed inside the essence of The Princess certainly reacted to it. Yet -- her heart would not let any soul near it in this state. This precious thing valuable above all else was guarded like a rare treasure. A lack of desire to rely on others, recollections of hurt, mistrust, and uncertainty surged in the soul of the woman as this distorted sense of determination bled like an inferno as he continued to try to embrace such a monster.

As the moments spiraled down, there was a strong conflict in her body from this flowing sensation of warmth she yearned not to have at this time. Ergo, her fangs and horns came to pass of her own as her demonic essence sought to cocoon her from the feeling of another. For this brief period, she just wanted to think and sort her own will out before another dared to implant such ideals or influences on her.

Thus, with this blood aura bathing the woman, she closed her eyes to otherwise hear what the male had to said as she kept her walls up for the time being. Speaking notions of endless suffering, being at the crossroads a being such as herself was in certainly was not an easy ordeal to endure. Despite being a creature that thrived on carnage and suffering as its possessive power; the woman struggled with the questions her own doubts and mind posed. Was anything left of depth, value, or worth inside of her being with how far her quest for power, security, and feral will has brought her? All the sacrifice, the bloodshed, and reaching the plain of the gods themselves; even if her will was not absolute, to deny that demented hunger would be to ignore reality itself.

But -- this will could be so much more. So much more. It wasn't complete. Something within was still missing. That state of being something more was a concept that Algos craved and sought to possess for her own. Draining others, taking from the earth and devouring it in this endless craving within her abysmal being. With where she stood, this beast could almost be considered an embodiment of a black hole with how endless her destruction had been to attain that illusion.

...yet it's not sustainable. No. It's just madness. An endless goal that spirals into eternity to keep seeking more and more until the self is riddled with a distorted vessel of what it once was. That is the demise of her own mother, was that what she wanted for herself? Standing in the crossroads of insanity and moderation brought a sense of inflamed craving that became further subdued as Algos breathed in and out and digested the words which this most ancient demon whispered in her ears.

So, as he touched her hellishly hot body to grasp at her snowy head, the woman's eyes scorched with scarlet could be seen meeting his gaze as she had one simple answer to his response to what her heart desired.

"Value. I desire value."

In one simple breath, The Princess declared what she sought. But there was so much more to it than that.

"What is the point of power if you have nothing to give value to? I want to be of use to another, and in that same vein give power to those who lack it."

A pause was given before the woman closed her eyes; exhaling a deepened sigh before continuing.

"I consume, destroy and resist even the gods wanting to break my body to pieces. My will to live is immense, but it is not complete. In order to become whole, I just want to work towards being of value to society, my family, and perhaps even a lover because it makes me feel...desired and good."

There was another moment of silence before she focused her burning thought and carried forward.

"But beyond that selfish desire, I can see a world of madness, suffering, and death under a kingdom that is dis-organized, shattered, and in need of guidance. My power enlightens me to the misery of others, and I just thought with the state our world was in that I could be a demonic figure to help it grow, strengthen, and play my role in this existence."

Now with her own hand across the cheek of Mat, the woman knew what to utter at this point.

"A maddening maturity, is it not? This universe is a place that brings great hardship to the heart, so why turn astray from it now?"

"How strange a desire, how so foreign to me. To crave lesser creations to have want of you. Some part of me thinks, how undemonlike."

The Tortured One would remark with neither judgement nor approval. Merely an observation made from one enlightened demon, to one seeking the pained existence he held. As if had it come from almost any other, he would cast them aside without a second thought. But he knew this circumstance was different, for no demon upon their path could maintain a true demonic path. Instead, it was through the broken vessal which was Algos that he accepted her desire. As his crimson irises stared upon her own, a blackened abyss far deeper than anything remotely human.

"You knew the chaos, and misery of this world, of our people, and sought to use yourself to correct it. To some an altruistic goal, if measured by sheer results." He'd muse to her as her hand rested upon his cheek. It felt hot to the touch, far hotter than any human should be. Like touching that of a furnace, but the longer contact remained it gave glimpses to his existence. An experience in which words could not describe.

As if she was reaching into a wellspring of water, and there seemed to be no end. Only more darkness the further they reached, until fully submerged and sinking.

"But I see past it. I see the selfishness. You desired to perform those actions, so these creatures needed you. After all, is the value of a commodity not exponentially increased when it is changed from a want to a need." He'd smile, a twisted conversation surely. To discuss what might be flaws or sins to another race, was merely the truth of their existence. As they conversed they both gained a deeper understanding of the tortured reality they shared. "So mortals, they apply the words good and bad to such things. For us, it merely is what it is. To desire something, be it murder or the protection of innocents, springs from a selfish quest to invoke feeling within us."

He'd laugh dryly at such things, his hand stroking the ash hair of Algos.

"Let the kingdom burn, and let it bleed. It shall come and go, just as so many before and after. But the people remain. The Asthavons, remain. The Soul King remains. I remain." He'd remind her, perhaps as an inverse to the philosophy ideas persist while men die. "If you desire value, then you must first prescribe your own value unto yourself and others. Do you value your family more than a kingdom? The Kingdom more than the world? A lover more than family? Do not answer these questions, for any answer at this moment shall be wrong." He'd warn her removing an arm from around her, lifting a finger warningly between their faces- their bodies separated by a merely handwidth. His voice, barely above a whisper now.

"Find those values, pick those which matter. Then you must carefully learn how to moderate yourself, how to moderate those values. Least you over indulge. You've seen the result of that, yes?"

A cheeky smile, a cruel joke. But one she could handle. His eyes seemed to shine brightly, his heart pounding. His entire soul thrumming with excitement. Why wouldn't it be, when he was baring witness to the rebirth far more grand than that of bloodfather- Touketsu?

"I'm fully aware it's selfish, but nothing in this world is inherently selfless. Conditions are placed on everything, but some are worse than others in my viewpoint."

That retort was given quickly as her own energy twinged with daunting pulsations of power that she kept at bay. There was a part of her that wanted to be praised, told she was worthwhile, was being useful, and that her power and might weren't a waste in this god-forsaken world of suffering, destruction, chaos, and death.

"My ego is immense, but my heart just wants to feel like this power was used to create something of value that helps my people instead of bringing ruin."

Indeed: was this ego truly a bad thing?

The greatest champions in this world learned to subdue their ego, but not the energy that it lent them to do grand things. Lacking this trait of self-pride and confidence led others astray and to a life of competency. For without the drive within a person's soul to strive for better things in this existence, they'd surely be content with just living among the dirt, grass, and ruin of the world.

If nothing else, however, the rest of the words which were uttered had been digested as her fiery mind lingered on the notion of what was of value in her heart. Sure, she could make a few quick potshots on what might be of value to her, but it's not best to rush decisions such as these in a moment of intense passion. That's what led her to this state of despair to begin with and why her eyes seemed to cool for a moment.

"Those impulses aren't going to go away overnight, so neither should that decision. I can already feel the deep-seated craving to make a snappy decision, but I'm tired of where that has gotten me thus far."

Begrudgingly, the blood-red aura around the woman started to rescind of her own will. As time started to move forward, the demoness's own fangs and horns retracted before Algos stood there seemly lost in her own thoughts. Thinking of her family, lovers, the kingdom, past transgressions; there was a lot to process and in time they would be broken down like pieces of a puzzle to fit together whatever demented shape her new heart and self would come. For as much as she loathed this sense of change and this deep craving for things to remain the same, time waits for no one, and the need to adapt to these alterations to herself and the world around her was needed now more than ever if she were to truly be prepared to be a Queen, a mother and a leader of her children, family, kingdom, and world.

"I'll chew on that thought of finding my heart's value. It is unnatural, bizarre and it does feel uncomfortable; but something in my head wants to crave more so this unique form of suffering is tolerable."

There was then a pause before she continued.

"This kingdom and family can burn to the ground, but I feel I have the power to continue onward and create things to repair and replace it. I don't want that to happen, but there are forces in this world that can outlast others through the cruel march of time. That's the curse of absurdly long lives and repeating this cycle over and over and I feel I can accept that."

"Such is the path of control, and maturity. A painful one, but if mastered, shall grant you some measure of peace."

Mat would be pleased at the results of her losing her demonic traits, for it was the first sign of self control. In his corrupted and stillborn heart, he always felt some measure of pride in the growth of demons he took a personal interest in. He always related it to the feeling a father felt upon their children slowly growing to become more independent. In truth, there was some hope that an equal may emerge among his kind. In all his years, in the cold beginning, there was an extreme loneliness associated with his existence.

His crimson eyes poured over her features, taking in everything that she was. There was a ravenous look to him, as if both appraising her as a person and as a sack of meat. She was beautiful most definitely, attractive by conventional means as well. He knew that this one would go on to do great things with the power she had, and in turn be a useful ally in whatever endeavors he had planned. And like wise, he looked forward to assisting her in the same fashion.

"You have found all the answers you sought tonight, or at least the beginning. It pleases me so, dear Algos. I'm sure in time whatever else you have, we can work through." He'd comment as he released her placing both hands upon her shoulders, now an armlength apart. A grin adorned his features as he looked upwards to the sky, and then towards the horizon.

"Stay with me for awhile. My estate is a secluded place, away from the troubles of the world. We can converse, be merry, and indulge in whatever demonic whims hit us. I am hungry, and I fear any more seriousness will make me wish for the end to all suffering." He'd joke, before turning his gaze back to her.