The Death of a Phoenix

The Phoenix

The Demon Lord leaned forward in his seat, surprise lining the premature wrinkles on his face and burning its way down his throat like acid. To be fair, he should've gotten used to this a very long time ago - but this time, his sister actually left him a clue to her whereabouts. It wasn't a very good one either. Just a note that said, 'Find me where the burnt phoenixes are.' And if the Demon Lord knew the first thing about phoenixes, he'd go looking for a burnt one in its own ashes. That is, if Anye even left him any more 'ashes' to look for. But that was the least of the Demon Lord's worries - if you could call his sister's usual disappearances something to worry about, that is. It did not matter where the blasted demoness hid herself - she was always home in a month or three with most of her in one piece. She had lost a finger once, but that wasn't the Demon Lord's concern for the time being.

There were groups of Elven bandits pillaging the northern border, and bands of Guardian Angels laying waste to the villages in the east. Their apparent knowledge of the whereabouts of demon gold was far more pressing, and the Demon Lord wouldn't be surprised if his darling little sister had put the information right into their hands for some money - or even a night's tumble in the sheets. The fool demoness would rather hide herself in the rotten back alleys and ramshackle homesteads of the Devunakian underbelly, doing who knows what for money and w*****g around like the moon had no business being up in the sky, instead of simply enjoying the comforts of the Demon Fortress like a normal princess of the land. And honestly, her brother had had enough of bailing her out of fights where she'd definitely break a rib or several just because it 'looked fun'.

Oh, he never worried about her coming to any real harm - the demoness was harder to kill than a bloody cockroach with that skill set of hers, but by the seven hells, he was tired of her groaning and moaning and screeching over her injuries in the infirmary like a dying werecat. And she just had to go poof into thin effing air right when three of the five semi-mortal kingdoms were hunting her down like a pack of wild dingoes. The Demon Lord sighed to himself - this was a battle he'd never win.

"Send the first three legions to scan the whorehouses and gambling dens in District 30 for the Princess," he finally told his Minister of Defence, "And have the other commanders meet me in the war hall in an hour. Don't forget to deploy at least five minor citizen security units in the First District - our esteemed civil service ministers need an escort home."

"Yes, Your Grace," said the Defence Minister, who gave a short bow and left the throne room as quickly as his little feet could carry him.

Meanwhile, the Demon Princess had found herself dangerously close to Siren territory. Well, that wasn't supposed to be a problem - the last she heard, the Siren Princess still hoped for another night in bed with her, and her mother, the Queen, would do anything to have her daughter stop singing mournful ballads like those drunk human seafarers who left their frailer sweethearts back home to wait for them. But then, the other Sirens would probably throw the Demoness out for seducing their princess and leaving her heartbroken. It wasn't like Anye could help it - Demons could barely keep themselves to one partner for more than a night at a time. It was in their genes. Well, her brother, for one, had a few scores of illegitimate children all over the place - and the gall to berate her for sleeping around. The question was, which of those bastards would succeed him . Knowing them, they'd all kill each other first, and she'd have to take the throne. That is, if she was even interested in that blasted fancy-looking chair and all the politics that came with it. Listening to all those old men babbling in there like the buffoons they were, was jarring enough to deal with, let alone seeing through all their silly little plots against each other. The first time she snuck out of the palace, the Prime Minister almost had her ambushed by his men - apparently the Princess endangered his plans to become Demon Lord himself, or putting one of the legal heirs up there. Anye had often wondered why her brother kept his ministers around - it wasn't like he couldn't see through them, and he knew his legal heirs were the most spoiled little brats he had ever seen. But, as he liked saying, it was best to keep one's enemies within earshot, and there was still time before he'd need someone to take the throne from him.

And that meant, finding an heir was now Anye's business, and she'd need to find one of questionable origins, and have them succeed her brother - and all this before the Elves and the Angels had his head for hiding Demon gold from them. It wasn't even like she, of all demons, had a chance of producing any little devils of her own either, given her choice of bed-mates.

As for this little Siren Princess, she supposed another night of tumbling on the seabed in sheets made of sea moss wouldn't hurt - not a whole lot at least. It was free accommodation for the night, for crying out loud, and the princess was rather easy on the eyes herself. Only, Anye did not remember what the sweet girl was called - probably Laila or Ariel or another of those Angelic sounding names the semi-mortal royalty loved calling their little girls. Eh, whatever that was, she could deal with it later. For now, she'd need to find her way into the southern wing of the Sea Palace, where the Siren Princess's quarters would be located.