The stars sparkled brightly.
The orcs drank through the night.
A witch pranced around like a maniac.
Two geriatrics told tales.
Two siblings listened.
The campfire blazed.
The demon collapsed from mental exhaustion.
Azazel lay on the ground as he spent at least six hours attempting to summon the almighty fire, failing miserably for the majority of that time. I should have done it the old-fashioned way.
He sat up and stoked his right horn, peering at Granny and Zeus practically atop one another. The two had already decided they were going to ship him off to register their kingdom in the capital of Serdona tomorrow, so the discussion had been brief.
At least Zeus and Natasha promised him he would begin to see progress once he returned. The kingdom did, indeed, need a little more than a cottage. It wasn't exactly a place people could migrate to.
This is the lamest party I have ever attended. I wish I could actually sleep in my current state. I'd rather watch the cows shit right now.
Azazel watched as Zeus approached him, his biceps and impressive pectoral muscles on full display.
"My boy," Zeus said, taking a seat next to him. "Sorry, I didn't see you when I arrived."
Azazel scoffed. "You were busy."
The orc let out a hearty laugh. "Damn straight!"
"I need you to take some gems to Serdona for trading. We have the buggy loaded up. We are low on funds."
"You mean we have no funds, so-to-speak?" Azazel dryly asked.
"More or less!" Zeus agreed. "You can't run a kingdom without money."
Zeus took a mug of ale from one of his orc brothers, shoving it into Azazel's hands. "Drink up. It's an orc specialty."
Azazel lifted the mug to his nose. Repulsive.
"I'm on a diet."
Zeus laughed again. In the corner of his eye, Azazel spots Emma staring at him. I feel judged.
The old orc stood up and returned to Granny. He sat on her lap, with the old woman stroking his beard tenderly as he nuzzled against her neck.
I think I'm hallucinating. That should definitely be in switched positions.
With that, Azazel stood up. He looked down at the mug filled with horrid booze. He would go pour it out into the lake. Besides, it felt wrong to be wearing a dead king's clothing.
His eyes darted to the side. Both Natasha and George were passed out in the grass. The little witch had her body draped sideways over the hulk. He had seen both of them drink, but the pair probably had much more than he realized.
He sighed as he made it to the lake, far from the odd party he was forced to attend. His eyes peered up at the stars. They were beautiful. It was a scene he wouldn't be blessed with if he were still in the city of his previous existence. Smog and light pollution did a number on the natural beauty of nature.
Azazel decided one drink, to respect Orc culture, wouldn't hurt. He brought the mug to his lips and took a sip.
He spat it out.
What the hell is this sh*t? Hopefully, the orc zombies never open a bar.
He dumped the rest of it out on the grass. There was no way he would try any more of it. Not that anything could go wrong where he was if he did drink, but that ale wasn't worth risking it for. It may even kill me.
Azazel took a deep breath. Sometimes he enjoyed being alone. It was a simple pleasure he didn't have much time for when he was busy attending events in the name of his country. He couldn't remember the last time, before his reincarnation, he had been left alone, just with nature by his side.
He stood by the clothes line and retrieved his clothing. He took a quick sniff and appreciated the lack of aroma on his nose. He had smelled terrible for quite some time.
Azazel quickly stripped off the clothing, replacing it with his own. Much better. He folded up the borrowed clothing, placing them over the line.
He backed up and bowed at the clothes. He had to pay his respects for the linens, which allowed him to escape the lake.
One stabbed a king to death.
Azazel laid down on the grass under the tree. He closed his eyes, enjoying the tranquility of nature. His mind drifted off for a moment, allowing him to enter the trance state. Finally, he had managed to successfully chase the dragon. His body felt light and like it was floating. It was the next best thing to real sleep.
Before he could mentally comprehend what had happened, Azazel was upright and panting, looking down at a somewhat frightened Emma on the ground.
"Are you...okay?" She asked him with a genuine look of apology plastered on her face.
Azazel rubbed his forehead and groaned. He took a seat next to her.
I can't believe I reacted that way to her.
Azazel took a moment to regain his composure. While he lay there, Emma had snuck up and sat on top of him. His body had immediately reacted to the memory of his ex-wife stabbing him in the chest.
He had pushed Emma away as an automatic response and stood up.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "My mind was not present, and my body had a freak out."
Emma looked concerned.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
I know you don't understand.
He shook his head. "It's not really important."
"It is important." Emma gazed at the lake, watching the reflection of the stars. "I am sorry I snuck up on you. Grandma and Zeus locked me out of the cottage."
"Why did they lock you out?" This was golden. There was no way Granny would purposely lock her grandchildren out. At least, he thought not.
"I think it was an accident. I just backed away. I heard some really bizarre moaning," Emma shivered.
"Revolting."
It was the last scene he wanted to imagine. He tried not to. Really. He tried. His brow twitched.
Why did I have to imagine that?
"Sorry, you experienced that." His apology was genuine; he couldn't imagine hearing that and not drowning himself in the lake immediately after.
Emma pointed to a bottle she had taken out of the cottage before the party. "Do you want to share this?"
He narrowed his eyes at the bottle. "Is that wine?"
Emma nodded and smiled.
"Alcohol has caused me problems," he frowned.
Emma laughed. She opened the bottle and took a drink. She handed him the bottle. He was rather reluctant.
"There are no problems to cause right now."
At her words, he took a sniff. "Much less revolting than that orc brew and what's happening back home."
Emma frowned. "Please don't remind me."
"Noted."
Azazel took a drink. Not bad, actually. He took another drink. And another.
He shoved the bottle back at her.
"I have no self-control," he snickered.
"That would explain what got you into the previous mess," she teased, taking a drink before she shoved it back at him. "Drink the rest. I may have already drunk a lot of that orc ale."
Azazel squinted at her. How in the world did this girl drink that vile liquid?
He shrugged, chugging the rest of the wine.
"Look what you have done to me," he said, rubbing his forehead.
"What?" She inquired.
"You are the one who had me drink this time, my kitten," he purred.
Emma shrugged. "I thought maybe it would be easier for you to continue our conversation from this morning."
She pulled out another bottle from behind the tree, handing it to him with a smirk.
She's a real demon.
Azazel accepted it, knocking back the contents in record time. He waited.
"Well, it's starting to kick in," he said, feeling dizzy.
He was plastered again.
"Okay," she clapped. "Now tell me all your secrets."
The alcohol content on that must have been astronomical, because my mouth is going to open. I will be puking all the way to the city tomorrow.
"Umm," he paused. "About what?"
He couldn't really remember in his current state of intoxication.
"Why do you not know anything about demons?"
Azazel half-closed his eyes and squinted. "Because I am not a demon?"
She poked his arm. "You are clearly a demon."
It took him a minute to comprehend it. He stroked his right horn. "Oh, yes, apparently I am."
Azazel laughed.
Emma frowned.
"I was human. I was killed. Now, I am a demon."
She shook her head. "I don't even know what you're talking about."
Azazel fell back on the grass. His head was spinning. He didn't know how much longer he was going to hold out at this rate. His body was nearly toast.
"Hmm," he mumbled something incoherent. "I was a married king. A virgin king. My wife killed me before I even became a real man."
Emma flopped back on the ground and turned to face him. "Did that really happen?"
"Not a single lie. I swear."
He turned around to face her as well, the flushed state of his face giving away just how much the alcohol was affecting him.
Emma stayed silent for a moment, pondering what he said. "You were a married virgin?"
"Oh, yes," he chucked. "Men can be quite pathetic."
Emma frowned again.
"What?"
"You were not pathetic," she gently smiled.
"Well, she really just wanted the throne to herself," Azazel said, placing his hand on her cheek. "I was about to get it in, you know, and she gets on top and kills me. Obviously, she didn't care about my existence."
Azazel's head felt fuzzy, but he knew he would regret telling all this in the morning.
Emma shifted closer to him, placing her hand on his. "How did you die but end up here?"
"Eh," Azazel started. "I am unsure about that part."
He sighed and closed his eyes.
"I bet you think I am lying."
"Not at all; I know you wouldn't lie."
Azazel thought of the MP3 player he had accidentally left under her bed. "Oh, I have some sort of proof. I died, and I came here with something from my original existence. I'll show you it sometime."
Emma nodded. "I look forward to it."
She reached over and put the tip of her finger on the tip of his horn. "Are these actually sensitive?"
"Very," he mumbled in response.
She rubbed across his horns, sending shivers down his spine.
"You shouldn't do that."
"Why?" she asked.
Azazel kept his eyes closed tightly as she gently stroked his horn. His flush grew even more red. "Because, while fundamentally human, this body is very much a demon."
"Do you want to change certain situations?" She whispered.
"...Hmm?" He was a very confused drunk.
She stared at him as his eyes were closed, fully studying his face for the first time. She took his hand and placed it on her chest.
Her heart is beating awfully fast. Oh, that's something else.
He squeezed.
It was soft.
He could now die happy.
Azazel opened her eyes and gazed at her flushed face.
She does this when I am about to pass out again. Of course. The story of my life What does she actually think I am going to do with the booze she gave me? When these drunk people vomit, pass out, or both, they definitely don't keep things up.
Emma kept her hand on his horn and leaned forward, pressing her nose against his. She closed her eyes and kissed him.
Did she actually just do that?
Azazel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss she had started. He could feel her body shifting against him, indicating she would not resist.
"My kitten..." He smirked against her lips.
Then he passed out into a state of tranquility.
Of course, he passed out.