The King's Fear

As the king and his advisors processed the urgent news delivered by the messenger, and the attention demanded by the guests before him, a tense silence settled over the throne room. Belial stood with an air of quiet resolve, his gaze steady as he awaited the king's response.

As he looked at Belial, his appearance that of a 25 year old prince in robes adorned with jewels and frills he felt that this young person was not in a position to make such demands within his own castle. Looking at the four girls standing behind as the prince's guards the king was confident in his guards ability to deal with them should it get to that point.

Finally, the king turned his attention back to Belial, his expression one of anger as he regarded the dark figure standing before him. "And who, may I ask, are you that would allow you to make such demands?" the king inquired, his voice bolstered by his perceived strength tinged with a hint of unease. The guards at the Kings sides standing at the ready.

Belial met the king's gaze without flinching, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. "I am Belial," he replied, his voice echoing through the chamber with a chill that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "A being of great power, I have traveled a long way and have stopped to seek this audience and to make this request out of curtesy to you and your throne. I am one who does not take kindly to being denied what is rightfully mine."

As his hand slowly moved the air crackled and a blue lightning could be seen snapping between his fingers. The air grew heavy with the power his body radiated. 

The king's eyes widened in recognition, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow as he realized the true nature of the creature standing before him. Belial, the demon of legend - the very mention of his name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest souls. Why was he now standing before him in his throne room.

If the legends were true, Belial had lived for a millennia. His evil known through the stories of destruction and devastation that followed in his wake. How had he come to be hear and what had the done to deserve to suffer his wreath. At that point he 

Looking at the guards to his sides and to his advisors he know that this was a request that could not be denied. He would grant the request but would do it in such a way as to maintain some of the authority that befit his station.

"As you wish," the king replied, "but please be as brief as you can so I may deal with other matters."

But despite the king's fear, and his attempt to maintain his authority Belial simply nodded. As he spoke, Belial remained composed, his gaze unwavering as he addressed the king once more. "Deep in the dungeons of this castle," he continued, his voice low and menacing, "there resides a creature that possesses something that belongs to me. I seek your permission to enter the dungeon and retrieve what is rightfully mine, and to dispatch any creature who dares to stand in my way."

The king hesitated, his mind racing as he weighed the implications of Belial's request. He knew that to deny the demon would be to invite his wrath upon the kingdom - a prospect too terrible to contemplate. And yet, to grant Belial access to the dungeons was to invite untold danger into the heart of the castle. 

Different scenarios ran through the kings mind. What if Belial failed and whatever creature the resided in the depths of the dungeon was set free or decided to come forward. Would they be able to protect the kingdom? What if Belial, when he finished decided to turn on him or his kingdom, would he be able to stop him, would whatever Belial is after become the tool of their demise. All of these issues wrestling in his mind. But at the end of it all he knew that even as he stood now looking at Belial there wasn't anything that he would be able to do to stop Belial from proceeding with his quest. His best option may be to support him and trust that Belial has no interest in his kingdom.

As the king looked into Belial's eyes, he saw something there that sent a shiver down his spine - a glimmer of power and darkness that spoke of a force beyond his comprehension. If someone had asked him to describe the eyes of evil, the eyes of a man without a soul, he knew it was what he was looking into at this very time. In that moment, he knew that there was no choice but to agree to Belial's request.

With a heavy heart, the king nodded solemnly, his voice barely above a whisper as he granted Belial permission to enter the dungeons. "Very well," he said, his words tinged with resignation. "You may enter the dungeons and retrieve what is yours. But know this, Belial - the consequences of your actions will be your own to bear. I ask that once done, leave our kingdom as you found it."

Belial inclined his head in acknowledgment, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips as he turned to leave the throne room. The king watched him go, a sense of dread gnawing at his insides as he realized the true extent of the power that now resided within his castle walls. Had he just made a deal with the devil, or perhaps a deal with the devil might has been a preferred

And as the echoes of Belial's footsteps faded into the distance, the king knew that his kingdom would never be the same again - not as long as the demon of legend walked among them, Belial's dark desires driving him ever onward in his quest for power and dominion.