How to make a demon lord (part one)

"So," I start, putting my knife and fork together, pushing my plate away from me as I straighten myself up in my chair. "When do we go?"

Right on queue Valerian flicks back the cuff of his sleeve to reveal a glistening black watch, eyeing over it once, then twice before his eyes meet mine. Giving an affirmative nod as he rises from his seat, picking up my plate as he goes.

"Now, if you are ready, Princess? I don't mean to rush you, but the others have been... eagerly awaiting your presence," he says, slowing to chew over some of his words for long enough to make me believe that it is not the good kind of 'eager' he is referring to.

But I am going to have to meet the other Lords and Ladies at some point down here.

So gingerly, I return his nod, patting my stomach with my fingers, happy to finally have a good substantial meal in my stomach, and not be rip roaringly drunk. At least that's one thing I have going for me.

"Now is good," I affirm, watching dimly as Valerian slides our plates into a frothing sink. As I say this, a spark glimmers in Valerian's eyes, his enthusiasm breeching the contains of his otherwise stoic expression. Perhaps it is my own enthusiasm that infects him now, lights that flame in those violet eyes. It would be a lie to say I am not eager to uncover the mysteries of my involvement with this prophecy- the notion that I have some sort of worth down here is enough to spark dizzy butterflies to flit around my stomach in anticipation. Maybe I am not such a useless Princess after all. I am sure my mother would be glad to hear that.

"Good, lets be off then. Leave the mess, the dilopuffs will handle it," he assures just as I am about to take my drink over to the sink. And sure enough as he says this, a swarm of purple fuzz buzzes through the air, swooping low to scoop the drink from the table and plop it neatly into the sink. A flurry of bubbles puff into the warm air, drifting down until a couple settle against Valerian's dark curls.

I don't tell him they are there. But from the smile that spreads wide across his dazzling features, I would be confident in hazarding an assumption that he already knows.

Sighing, I let my hands fall in defeat, not saying that I am at least somewhat glad that I don't have to busy myself over chores right now- at least not this morning. My mind is far too busy with other things right now.

"Is there anything those dilopuffs can't do?" I chuckle, trailing Valerian as he makes his way out the kitchen and into the living room, scooping up a couple of things from around the room- paper and a few scrolls, worn and yellowed by the sullen hands of time. A doesn't pause to consider the matter, merely continuing to pick at a few stray objects until he at last replies:

"Not really," he says, tucking the papers under his arm neatly. With a gracious bow, he stands to attention near the door, sweeping back a long strand of raven hair from his face. "They are very useful to have down here- they work very hard and have the remarkable but rather handy ability to lift extremely heavy things, not to mention get into very small spaces. But don't worry, they get paid well," he assures with a laugh, his fingers tapping on his sides as he waits for me to cross the room to greet him. For a moment, I stand there, my eyes trained over this little black dilopuff who stares wide eyed at my side.

This little creature gets paid?

Wow, even the animals (are they animals?) down here get better treatment than I did in the Upper World. I suppose that says a lot about Valerian's customs.

"I'm bringing Illian, if that's okay," I say after a little hesitation, glancing over the black ball of fluff on my shoulders with a newfound respect. Gently, I lift my finger, tickling the underside of his chin to elicit a little purr.

Valerian shrugs, eyeing over the little ball of fluff before promptly sighing. There is no real indication in his voice as to whether he cares or not, so he merely says:

"Fine by me. He has been stuck in her so long, it would probably do him some good to get out. Plus, he will make a great change of conversation if things go…" he pauses for a moment. "Sour."

Without another word, he beckons me over, swinging open the door for me and letting the bright golden light of the corridors stream out into his room, where the rustle and pitter patter of footsteps can be heard traipsing down the halls. It looks like after all this time, the palace is finally awake. Or maybe I was just constantly asleep.

"Sour?" I push, fearful that I know the meaning of his words already without even having to ask, but hoping desperately that I am very wrong. Shutting the door behind us, Valerian offers his hand out to me. After a pause of nervous hesitation, I give a gentle smile, taking it. Of course, I know he is just being polite in the gesture, but it feels good to know that someone has my back in this palace of mysteries, even if that trust may have been formed as part of a sketchy deal on the rashness of a wedding day. But the care and affection that wavers in Valerian's eyes is indisputable so I know as we walk side by side down the halls, myself giggling inwardly at the sheer sweep of his wingspan across the halls, he will tell me what I need to know.

"You see," he says as we begin to make our way down the exuberant corridors, smiling in the realisation that I am no longer seeing every detail in a drunk and woozy light Now, finally, I can appreciate its finery as I walk, soaking up the lavish stretches of ruby carpet, the oil paintings, the chandeliers, the fine carvings of the dark oak walls… everything about it seems to radiate royalty, and encapsulation of the fanciful Devil himself, and the luscious manner of his lifestyle.

"The demon lords are a product of my own creation, just like every other demon that resides in the Downside. However, I picked them from the strongest, wisest beings of my people in the hopes they would help rule and govern my kingdom in times that I could not. My kingdom is, after all, very large. It needs its defenders. Much like your Upper Realm," he explains, nodding and smiling to several butlers as we pass them down the corridors. I take a shy glance at them as we skim past them: some fair skinned, others of bright colours of blue or purple or red, some boasting scales, or horns, or long, winding tails that flick around their heels with every step of their black heeled shoes. They add a peculiar sort of vibrancy to place, a welcomed palette of added splendour as they wave at us cheerily down the corridors. Nothing like the tales the Upper Realm had told then.

A little murmur of words tells me Valerian is speaking once more.

"Much like me," he continues, persisting with his routine of smiling and waving at passers by- not too enthusiastically of course, he has an appearance to maintain. "The demon lords and ladies quickly found themselves mutated after hosting such a considerable amount of power from the Ether- or Ethereum, whichever you prefer. I did of course warn them of this beforehand, told them that if I split a fraction of my power and gave it to them, there would be no telling what it would do to them, by then it would be out of my control. But they agreed to my terms regardless..."