To Bewitch a Devil

He placed his palms on the table and surveyed the map in front of him, trying to connect dots to lines and patterns. Freya stepped forward and fixed her studious eyes on the pinned locations. She traced a finger from pin to pin, and Zavian patiently waited for her to speak.

“It might not be a pattern,” Freya said. “Although I would have to study it more. Have you ever considered that it could be someone else?”

“Who? Mother?”

“Not mother”, Freya tapped at the seven kingdoms one after the other. “Enemies can lurk in all of these places.”

“I have enemies, Freya, plenty of them.”

“So start from there.”

“Which one? Among demons or humans?”

Freya gave a wicked laugh. “Don’t overestimate humans, Brother.”

.....

“Don’t underestimate them, Freya.”

Freya’s eyes sparkled. “Then maybe we should start with the ones closest to us.”

“You think the maids or guards have something to do with it? A medium to someone out there? And what secrets do they possess to trade?”

“Just a thought,” Freya shrugged. “Or it could be someone much higher than a maid.”

Her eyes met his, challenging. Zavian’s anger was silent, a storm brewing, and his fangs elongated out of his mouth.

“Last time, Freya,” he growled.

Freya scowled. “Relax. You asked for my help and I was only helping.”

“So then, help with wisdom, not misdirection.”

“Well then, give me time to study this map,” Freya rolled up the parchment in her hand. “And you need to sleep. All your energy is directed into you being a brute.”

She didn’t wait for him to say anything more. She whirled back and stalked out of the room.

Zavian slumped into his chair. The dead human appeared in the forefront of his mind, and Zavian wished whatever it was, he would reach it first and make it suffer for the labyrinth of dead-end problems he was plunged into. The Underworld would be too light of a punishment for the entity, and death was even mercy. He wanted to hang the person between the two until they begged for both.

The visualization of punishments didn’t ease his restlessness. He decided to go check up on Neera. It was since the night before he had seen her, and never had he witnessed her drink like that. She was a sight to behold, hair like snow in the dimmed hall, whirling with the never-ending music. She had pulled him in for a dance at one point, and he obliged. She moved slowly, guiding him with sloppy moves of her own.

Neera had looked up at him, sighing contentedly, resting her chin on his chest.

“I want to be with you for eternity, Zavian,” Neera had said. “I don’t want time to end between us both, because I really love you.”

Zavian had stiffened. Neera, stupored to her senses, gave him a lazy grin.

“I love you, Zavian, and I want to scream it to the world.”

“Neera”, he had held her arm, and she looked up at him, searching.

“I am losing control over myself, aren’t I?” She put a hand to her mouth, producing a quiet burp. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t ruin the Queen’s party.”

She beckoned to Zavian with her hand, urging him to bend to her level. Zavian did, and she cupped her hand over his ear and whispered,

“I love you. And I am going to say it to you alone because you are my world.”

The grin she gave him at such cheesiness, the way her hair tousled to a shoulder, the lightness she carried herself as she continued the dance, Zavian would never forget it.

But he didn’t say it back. He knew he loved her, with his soul, heart, and body, but his mouth had been locked, the words refusing to spill. It was probably because Neera was drunk when saying it, and wouldn’t wake up with a clear memory the next day. Or it was probably because even though Lilah had died long ago, those were the words he told her every waking morning until he never said it again for five hundred years.

It was like a rock sedimented in his throat, buried in a timeless grave, and he was only learning how to plant flowers where there had once been pain.

When Zavian got to Neera’s door, he heard the sobbing first. Alarmed, he burst in, and on the floor, he saw a crying Neera, shivers coursing through her body while Jasmine held her tight in her arms.

“What’s wrong?” He asked the Queen.

“I saw her this way in the throne room,” Jasmine said, rubbing a hand on Neera’s back. “She wouldn’t speak.”

Zavian sat on the floor next to Neera, and Jasmine released her. He guided her into his arms, and Neera broke into a fresh set of tears.

“Was it from last night?” Zavian asked Jasmine.

“No, she was fine. She just entered the throne room, and this happened.”

“And was anyone in there with her?”

“Just her.”

He knew ‘It’ visited again. The creature from her nightmares. It was the only thing that could get her so shaken up. Zavian’s free hand fisted, and he consoled Neera, whispering assuring words only his presence could bring. He could feel the tightness in her body relax, and he removed the hair plastered with sweat on her face.

“Talk to me, Neera,” Zavian said. “Talk to me.”

“It…was him again”, Neera found her voice. “He was so… close. So close, Zavian.”

Jasmine’s face creased in a frown. “It was who? There was no one in there with her.”

“Jasmine,” Zavian called. “Thank you for your help. I would love to talk to Neera alone for some time. I will let you know when you can check up on her.”

Zavian found that Jasmine was not too pleased with the dismissal, but she nodded in understanding. She rose to her feet and left the room.