Alburet froze, “You’re saying that what I know as fact, isn’t?”
“Parts,” Stacia said softly. “Most of ya mind is fine. Ya mind is fractured from a couple of years before ya met me. I can help ya with it, iffin ya will let me.”
Alburet flinched involuntarily, feeling like he’d just been asked if he would like his eyes pulled out. “It can’t mean anything though, right? I mean, don’t people change their memories of stuff all the time?”
Mother’s hooves clicked on the floor as she came to kneel beside them. “Small things, yes. And almost everyone tries to forget the painful things. Your mind, though, is like a broken stained-glass window. Your mind is the worst I’ve ever seen, Alburet Two-souled. Even worse than your Lunari friend, Fluffball. We can’t heal it and help you unless you wish it. Any succubus can aid you, but I think that Stacia would be the best choice. She will gently and slowly piece it back together.”
Alburet shifted slightly away from her, “I’ll think about it.”
“As you wish, child,” Mother said as she stood back up. “I have left the potion that will transform you into a Half-blood Infernal with my granddaughter. If you still wish to make the change, all you need do is drink it. Be aware, though, that it is a painful and unpleasant process. Now, if you will excuse me, there are other guests that require my attention.” Her hooves echoed against the stone floor as she walked away.
“Master,” Stacia said, appearing above him again. “I will nay do anythin’ unless ya wish it. I will do anythin’ to help ya in anyway ya see fit. Know tha’ I worry for ya, ya memories be causin’ ya so much pain an’ it hurts me to see tha’.”
Alburet could see her love and distress as she looked down at him. “I’ll consider it, Kitten. Since I’m already down here, hand me the potion please. Might as well get this unpleasantness over with.”
She frowned but nodded and held out a vial filled with a bright red fluid with black specks floating in it. “It be said this be distilled from the Dark Lord’s blood. It will scour ya veins, shaping ya as it courses through ya body.”
Alburet took the bottle, feeling as though he were in a dream. He was only vaguely aware of the vial coming to his lips as he chugged the vial. His thoughts suddenly blanked as his body arched and a wordless scream was ripped from him.
Stacia clutched him to her as his muscles spasmed. He coughed and felt fluid spew from his mouth, a vivid red gout that covered Stacia’s arms as she held him and whispered into his ear. He couldn’t make out the words. Molten metal scoured his veins, the pain the most intense thing he had ever experienced. The hands holding him strained against him as he bucked like a bull. Two smaller hands on his legs vanished as his legs bucked.
Two sharp pains erupted from his forehead. His vision wavered and shifted as his eyes seemed to almost boil. The scream went on and Stacia struggled to hold him. He felt more hands clamp down on his body as the pain coursed through him. He felt his teeth shift in his mouth and more blood erupted from him.
“Hold on, master,” Stacia’s sob cut through his pain, “it be almost done.”
His heart surged, feeling as if it were trying to break free from his chest. It stuttered, and Alburet wondered if this was how his father had felt before he’d died. His vision swam back into focus, the colors sharper and more vivid than they had been. Just as he could see again, blackness fell onto him like a wall and he was barely able to whisper a few words.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped as darkness claimed him.
He became dimly aware of voices speaking above him and two sets of soft, yet firm arms wrapping him in a tight embrace. He tried to recall where he was and why he had been asleep. His eyes fluttered as his ears began to function properly again, allowing him to make out what was being said.
“Ya could have warned me about how much it would be hurtin’ him,” Stacia’s voice was soft, but clearly conveyed her anger.
“Calm yourself,” the Dark Lord’s voice answered her. “He survived, as do all who undergo the change. It is just unpleasant.”
“I do nay forgive those tha’ hurt me husband,” Stacia seethed.
“Kitten,” Alburet’s voice was rough from all the screaming, “calm. It’s over and I’m okay. Don’t be too mad at him. Pain is just a passing moment to be fought through.”
Stacia turned to look at him, her red eyes filled with worry. “Ya bucked as iffin ya soul was bein’ ripped from ya, master. I feared…”
His hand came up to stroke her hair, “Shh, Kitten.” He frowned, seeing his changed skin but focused on calming the woman he loved. “I can’t die a final death, remember?”
“It does nay make me worry less,” she whispered as she nestled her cheek into his hand.
“I know,” he coughed, his throat still raw. “I need some fluid, Kitten. I also think I should look in a mirror now.”
The succubus version of Stacia held a flask of tea to his lips, “Drink slowly, master.” She held the flask while he drank.
He sipped the tea, grateful that it eased the pain, “Thank you.”
“Our business is concluded for now,” the Dark Lord intoned. “You may stay until you recover. Welcome into the family, Alburet Two-souled. I shall keep my eyes on you.”
“It was a less pleasant way to be accepted into the family than a wedding,” Alburet replied, sitting up with Stacia’s help. His eyes found the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord stood seven feet tall. Black wings enfolded him like a great cloak, concealing most of the man’s body. His face, though, was not what Alburet had been prepared for. Two small nubs of horns protruded from the dark red skin of his forehead. Where his eyes should have been danced two orbs of swirling fire. The Dark Lord’s lips twisted into a smirk as he returned Alburet’s gaze, revealing longer, very sharp looking maxillary canines.
“Not many who are not fully Infernal have ever seen me,” the Dark Lord intoned. His wings pulled back and were folded behind him. Dark red skin at his extremities that went midnight black at his core was revealed. Alburet’s eyes scanned down the leather-clad legs, surprised to find red hued bare feet instead of cloven hooves. The feet were a rich blood color with talons where the toes should be.
“You’re more human than I expected,” Alburet finally managed to say.
“As are all of my Demon Lords,” the Dark Lord chuckled. “No matter what race they begin as, even Lunari, they always end up looking very similar in the end. Now that we have met, do you regret your choices here?”
“Here at your castle?” Alburet asked.
“No. Here in Alpha World.”
“Not one,” Alburet climbed to his feet, clinging to Stacia and her Copy to steady himself. He met the Dark Lord’s gaze once more. “Stacia is worth any torment. Had I done things differently, I might not have met her and won her heart.”
A laugh erupted from the Dark Lord, “Just like her Grandmother. Would you? Would you endure any torment?”
“Yes,” Alburet managed to reply.
A genuine smile spread across the God’s lips, “Very well. I wish you luck in your life here, Alburet Two-souled. Your path just became rockier than you can imagine. You will either make my people’s lives easier, or plunge us all back into chaos again.” A blinding flash of light and a dense, billowing cloud of sulfurous smoke followed hard on the Dark Lord’s final words.
“Does he always grandstand?” Alburet asked, swaying slightly.
“He does love to have the last word,” Mother’s voice came from the doorway. “I’ve brought some refreshments and a mirror for you. Stacia, take him to the seat over there.”