Daren spared a moment to rub delicately at his unbound wrists before turning his gaze back up to the captain. “No iron to keep the demon at bay? What, have we grown so close these past months you trust me to play nice?” From across the scarred table the captain smiled and leaned back in his seat, feigning a steadier confidence than he really felt over having the monster unchained. “I think you’ll behave this time,” he said. “After all, you’ve requested several times to meet with the King. Now you finally get your chance.”
Daren moved languidly down the hall, sunlight spilling in from the high windows and touching his skin for the first time in months. He took his time, savoring the ability to move more than a few feet in a single direction. Lovely, really, this freedom; he thought everyone ought to spend a year or two chained up in solitary to earn proper appreciation for the world outside. A world he would turn to ash, of course, but they could enjoy it while it lasted.
As he approached a pair of heavy oak doors the two guards at their sides snapped to attention. It was sweet, really, that they thought flimsy steel could stop something like him. Amused, and therefore feeling oddly generous, Daren stopped before the secretary’s desk as if he was any old citizen calling on the King to present some petty grievance. The secretary must have been alerted to his coming because he didn’t seem at all surprised to find the unescorted prisoner standing before him. In fact, he had fixed on his face a carefully crafted sneer of arrogance highly unbefitting his station. Or indeed, really, his species.
“So, you’ve come to see the King, hmm?” The secretary’s sneer curled into an equally unearned smirk. “Shall I introduce you with all your titles intact? The Angel of Death, the Destroyer, the Desolation and Pestilence–”
“I will burn them.”
“P-pardon?” For all his outward bravado the man’s haughty expression crumpled in fear as Daren leaned in, a gentle smile on his face, and repeated softly, “I will burn them. Angelique and Margaret. Burn them until they are dust.” And with that he stepped past the speechless man, both guards hastening to pull open the heavy doors before he could turn his attention on them.
“How did he know?” As he entered the throne room Daren could hear the secretary plead to the guards in a bubbling, terrified sob, “how did he know about my daughters?” Daren smiled to himself. Questions like ‘how?’ and ‘why?’ never crossed his mind; he knew what he knew and did what he did without question. Ordinary people were so unnecessarily complicated.
“Ah,” He came to a stop on the marble tiles and tilted his head in the barest of nods. “Your majesty.”
[ The dream totally changed from here, which super bummed me out. I was hoping for some death and destruction or teaming up with the King to beat an even worse baddie or something. ]