Arden scoffed and quickened his pace, cursing to himself. What an infuriating man. He refused to allow him to get under his skin. He might have magic but he certainly wasn’t “calling” to a demon. He was lying, he had to be. He’s a demon after all. Arden did his best to clear his mind of Erebus and was mildly more successful today. Except that every time his mind slipped, he saw Erebus’ smug, “I told ya so” grin. He shook his head with a growl and kept working. The other workers looked at him with concern, but chalked it up to his time spent in the cell with the prisoner. Which, to their credit, was correct. But not for the reason they think.
Arden was tired of seeing Erebus’s infuriatingly handsome smirk in his brain. He remembered the warm chuckle that seemed to exist only in his brain, and his blush returned. This only made him more angry. He scrubbed the floor with such furry that his knuckles turned white, and the other workers kept their distance.
Arden stared into the bucket of water observing himself. Even at 18 he had a boyish face. Freckles covering his face like constellations in the sky. His eye lashes long and dark, framing his brown eyes, the lantern light complimenting the golden tones within. He was not nearly as handsome as the demon. His face contorted with disgust. Why was he comparing himself to a demon? It was ridiculous. He needed to get a grip.There was no way that that creature was handsome. He finished his chores and headed to the washroom.
The washroom was quiet this time of day. Only a few maids and other workers bathed at this time of day. This was his favorite time to wash. He stripped himself of his dirty, moist tunic and burlap pants. The knees of his pant legs clung to his skin from kneeling all day. His breast band was soaked with sweat from today’s labors. He shuddered as he removed it and his torso was free and damp. Goosebumps littered his body as the brisk evening air hit his flesh. The water was not warm, it never was; But it was clean, and it made him feel much better, The frigid water temporarily distracting him from his intrusive thoughts of Erebus.
Shivering, Arden donned a clean set of clothes, carefully, re-binding his chest and returning to the room he shared with his mother. She had not returned, which was not unusual as the Duke’s daughter liked her to stay with her until she fell asleep. He wished she would return early, he needed someone to talk to, to occupy his mind. He turned to the bookshelf in the corner of the small room. It was an unusual skill for someone of his station, but he was very grateful to have it. Consuming his mind with a story, would surely help him with his predicament.
The book he chooses is a story of love, which is his favorite. A young maiden falls for a handsome knight as he completes a quest to earn her favor. It was a predictable story but Arden didn’t mind. He just wanted something to occupy his mind away from the Erebus. He stopped reading. Since when had he started thinking of him based on his name? He is a demon, an insufferable monster that will not leave him alone. His hands tighten around the book as he brings it back up to resume reading. But now he is frustrated with himself and with the stupid demon. He was reading about a handsome knight, and all he could see was Erebus’ smug face.
This wasn’t working. He put the book down and laid in his bed face down, smothering himself in his pillow. Another sleepless night no doubt. Then it would be back in the dungeons to hear about how little Arden couldn’t keep his mind off of him. He wouldn’t stand for it. He had to find something to do.
Arden’s legs carried him to the library. He was not allowed in there, no one knew he could read and the library was reserved for more important members of the staff and occupants of the realm. That didn’t stop him however. He slipped in the doors, stopping them from slamming with his hands, and then he ventured to the darkest corners, scouring the shelves for something more captivating than a silly romance novel. That's when he saw it, a book on demons and their magic. This wouldn’t help him forget, but he had to admit that he wanted to know more, and this was his chance. He slipped the book off the shelf and into his tunic. Turning swiftly, he kept his head lowered as he made for the exit.
The room was dark by the time he returned. His mother is still missing, which was a blessing this time. He stumbled around the room, groping around for a candle and something to light it with. The only one he could find was small and would only provide light for a short time, but it was better then nothing. Perhaps he could find a better candle with the light of this one.
After searching for a while, he gave up and used the rest of his time reading. The book was old, but seemed to be seldom read. The spine cracked in protest when he opened it. There were many illustrations which he thought was unusual, but he did not often read books of this nature. Arden preferred fiction, and there were not often illustrations in those pages. This book however held his attention. He learned that there are in fact many types of magic, too many to count with his limited knowledge of math. He ran his finger down the list making a mental note of as many as he could until he passed “illusions”.He was drawn to it for some inexplicable reason, so he eagerly flipped to the page marked. Intriguing. The page was filled with intricate diagrams and other visuals, very few words. The footnote, however, held a very puzzling piece of information.
“Humans are not capable of producing illusion magic, it is demon art”
He sat back, the candle fizzling out. His mind was once again filled with infinite questions, but also a strong feeling that Erebus would know more than a book.
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