Bound to the Blade

The unending darkness ended. Awareness returned.

How long had it been? In the oblivion there had been no sense of the passing of time, or the changing of the world. It could have been a minute, or an aeon. The demon didn't know. It lay dormant in the blade it was bound to, waiting for a warm hand to hold the hilt and awaken it.

The hand was large, and scarred. The arm it was attached to was muscled, and similarly scarred. It swung the blade, and hot blood washed over the enchanted metal. A sudden cry choked off, something fell to the ground with a thud and a gasp, then there was only the sound of heavy breathing.

The demon didn't see, having no eyes. It didn't hear, having no ears. It didn't feel, having no soul. But it was aware.

It was aware that it was in a cave, lit by the dim but steady glow of a lantern. The light almost hid the red flames that flickered menacingly in the long, curved blade, and blood covered the rest. The blood came from a purple-robed figure, now a crumpled wreck on the stone, staff still clutched in bony fingers.

Other forms lay on the ground as well. A mail-clad woman, face burnt and blistered. A slim figure -- male or female, it was impossible to tell -- face down, spine bent at an impossible angle.

The one holding the demon's sword was the only one left standing. Large, bronze-skinned, with tattoos on his shaven scalp and an angry red burn on his bare chest. Dark eyes peered out from beneath heavy brows as he gathered his breath, chest still heaving, muscled legs set firmly beneath a leather kilt.

The demon examined its surroundings. A sorcerer's lair, it seemed, with bottles and jars lining the shelves on the rough walls, containing powders, viscous liquids and small animals. Books and scrolls were piled on a large stone slab that served as a table, and a series of silver circles marked the centre of the floor.

Was this where it had lain for so long? A curiosity, taken to be studied but then ignored and forgotten, just one of many items? A spear etched with runes, a gold circlet, a brass armband set with black stones. Vials and wands and charms. The demon sensed power within them, but nothing compared with its own.

The warrior who held it stirred and glanced down at the bodies. A hint of regret came into his eyes when he looked at the broken figure, then he turned away and looked around him.

What do you seek?

The warrior started. He didn't drop the blade, though. Presumably he'd learned the hard way never to drop his weapon. Still, he held it out before him and examined it with alarm in his eyes.

Fear me not.

The demon tried to sound soothing.

I serve you. I obey you.

"Wh-- what are you?" The man's voice was rough and deep. The look on his face was shifting to one of curiosity.

A soul bound to this blade. Once I was a mighty hero, like you, but now my power is in the hands that hold me.

The warrior laughed. It sounded bitter. "I'm no mighty hero. I can fight, but I always end up on the losing side. I'd be lying dead beside Ayen and Krill if my sword hadn't broken. This blade did what my own couldn't."

The hero is one who succeeds where others fail. It was no chance that your hand took me up. Together we will accomplish great deeds. The world will sing the songs for ages to come.

"I like the sound of that. The Song of the Mighty Hew."

It took the demon a moment to realise the warrior was referring to himself.

Hew the Mighty, yes! Your name will be remembered.

Remembered by the demon, at least. Now that it knew the man's name, a connection had been forged between them.

"And what do I call you?"

The demon's true name was a secret it didn't share. Besides, this Hew might be put off: the collection of gutturals and sibilants, simple enough for a demon to pronounce, sounded nothing like the name of an ancient hero.

My name is Astor,

it said instead. Astor's hand had borne the demon-bound blade once, a long time ago.

"Very well, Astor. If you're going to help me, help me. I have to find the Ring of Egrod the Wise."

The demon that called itself Astor had known an Egrod. A thief who lived wisely, and died foolishly.

What does this Ring look like?

"A silver armband, carved with runes and set with a large sapphire. It's said to have the power to bring peace to the lands."

The demon doubted that. In its centuries of existence, it had never seen anything that could bring peace except the will of men and women. Still, it cast its awareness around, examining walls, floor and ceiling.

Beneath the table is a trapdoor.

Hew turned. "I don't see anything."

It is not meant to be seen.

Astor -- the demon that had adopted the name Astor -- forced itself to patience.

And it is dark here. Move the lantern closer.

Hew did as the demon instructed. Laying the sword on the ground, he bent down to look under the stone slab, resting on thick wooden legs. "I still don't-- aha, here's a crack!"

A few minutes later the table had been dragged aside, books and scrolls scattering in the process. Light from the lantern picked out shadows in the shape of a small rectangle. Hew reached down and dug his fingers around the edges. "It's moving..." he grunted.

Wait!

But the demon's warning was too late. The lid rose, and with it came a swirl of silver smoke, rolling and roiling from the hole that was revealed, rising into a column that hung in the air. Hew fell back onto his arse, his eyes wide, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the rough stone to pull himself away.

Fuck!

In all the demon's long existence, it had never found a better expletive. And this situation called for something forceful.

Astor needed Hew alive. It refused to be left in the darkness again so soon, to return to the endless oblivion. It yearned to experience the world again, conquer peoples and minds and slake all its lusts.

The mist was resolving into a recognisable form, a woman with perfect features, long, straight hair and clawed fingers. Colour appeared as if painted on: black for the hair, red for the lips, pink for the nipples on her bare breasts and the crease between her legs.

Hew stopped scrabbling backwards and stared up. The woman hung over him, glaring down across the swell of her breasts. An unseen wind seemed to swirl around her.

"Foolish mortal," she hissed. "You will die screaming as I suck your life and soul from your body."

Let me in!

the demon urged.

I can protect your mind!

Hew didn't react. He was gazing up at the woman, a mixture of lust and fear warring in his eyes. His kilt was showing a decided bulge

The woman had noticed it too. A long, thin tongue emerged from between those ruby lips. Its forked end glided over sharp teeth. "Yes, you will give me pleasure. You will learn that ecstasy and agony are two sides of the same coin."

Hew gave a whimper. He glanced around at where the bodies lay, as if imploring his dead friends for help.

Let me into your mind!

The demon was almost pleading now.

I am your only hope. Please, Hew, let me in!

The woman -- some sort of vampire, the demon decided -- glided lower, spreading her legs as her feet landed on either side of Hew's waist. Her body was hairless, and the lips between her thighs had turned the same bright red as the lips that were curled into a hungry smile.

"Do I arouse you? Show me! Show me what you have!"

The woman's tone was insistent, and Hew seemed unable to refuse. His hand reached down and pulled up his kilt to reveal a thick, swollen cock. A clear drop was already oozing out.

The vampire bent at the waist, lower and lower, until her face was almost level with the leather kilt. Her fingers unfastened the clasp and drew back the material, then teased across the warrior's stomach and abdomen. The forked tongue darted out, licking up and down along his shaft, then snaking back between her lips. A thin thread ran to them from Hew's cock for a long moment, then it broke and fell.

Hew lay shuddering at her touch. Ecstasy and agony, the woman had promised him, and that was what he appeared to be getting.

Let me in!

The demon knew it was only a matter of time before the man lost his soul. Only the strongest will could resist a vampire's assault, and then only if the body joined the fight. Hew's body seemed to have surrendered already.

The man closed his eyes, muttering something beneath his breath, then whispered, "Please!" And his mind opened a crack.

That was all the demon needed. It slithered its way inside, creeping into mind and body.

I will handle this. Go to sleep.

And it covered the man's awareness with a blanket as soft as it was secure.

Next it sent its awareness flowing through the physical form. Sensations washed over it: sights, sounds, smells. The chill of the vampire's presence, the lingering burn of her tongue, the throbbing pulse in the man's swollen cock. The blade that it was bound to, lying perhaps three feet away. The scent of burned flesh, the metallic tinge of blood in the air. The vampire's song, soothing and arousing at the same time.

The demon that called itself Astor let its borrowed mind be lulled, let its borrowed body be thrilled. The vampire lowered herself, squatting on her feet, until she was positioned over Hew's cock. Her eyes were closed to slits, and her crooning held an edge of anticipation.

She brought a hand down between their bodies and grasped the hard shaft. The demon felt the body it inhabited shiver at her touch as cold and heat ran through it in waves. The vampire rubbed herself along Hew's cock, coating it with the silver cream of her arousal. Her body bent forward and her tongue licked across his chest, teasing his nipples and caressing his neck.

Hew's hips raised, as if his cock was searching for the vampire's entrance, and she let it find the right spot. A moment of resistance, then the swollen head pressed itself inside. A groan escaped from the demon's borrowed lips, echoed by a gasp from above. The two bodies rose and fell to meet each other, then draw away, only to seek each other out again.

Further and further the hard cock slid inside the warm, icy body of the vampire. Her breasts swayed with the motion, and the demon raised Hew's body until his face pressed between them. A strange scent enveloped him: death, and lust, and loneliness. The long tongue flicked at his ear, then slithered lower, teasing the man's spine until it reached the curve of his arse.

With a grunt, the demon pushed Hew's body forward, onto his knees, forcing the vampire onto her back. She was pliant in the strong arms, allowing herself to be pressed down, then she wrapped her limbs around the demon's borrowed body and pulled him close.

They writhed against each other, grinding together in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The demon pressed the body's hands against the rough ground to raise itself up so that the vampire's nipples brushed across the bronze skin with the motion of her breasts.

The long tongue wormed its way between the man's cheeks, forcing them apart and teasing his crack with needles of fiery ice. One fork made tight circles around his hole, probing at it now and again, while the other searched further down towards his scrotum.

Astor revelled in the sensations. The warrior's body responded to every lick, every tickle, every tease, and the demon drew in every moment through his mind. It had been an age since it had experienced any physical pleasure.

It knew it couldn't last, though. One fork of the vampire's tongue had wrapped itself around Hew's cock, squeezing the shaft, while the other finally pressed against his hole and forced its way inside. The demon felt it thrust, grow longer, penetrate further until it was fucking the man's body like a thin, prehensile cock.

Astor almost cried out in joy when it felt the spark of an orgasm. Already it felt stronger than any memory it had, and every thrust of Hew's cock into the vampire's body, and every thrust of the vampire's tongue into his, fed the spark until it was a flood of fire coursing through the borrowed form, held back only by the vampire's tongue around the aching cock.

The human's body was gasping and shivering, arms trembling. His thrusts became irregular as desire fought with pain. Then the constricting circle around his cock loosened, and the demon felt the fire filling the borrowed body surge towards stressed loins and explode along the hard cock, flame after flame shooting along its length and into the tight grip of the vampire's body.

The demon's awareness narrowed down to the physical sensations, the spasms of pleasure that rippled along Hew's limbs and down his spine, to where the vampire's tongue withdrew from his arse with a final teasing touch.

Then the vampire rolled him over, and he lay on his back on the stone floor, chest heaving as he sucked in lungfuls of air.

"That was good," she said. "A very good start." Then she turned and placed herself over the man's face. "But I want more."

Now the demon's awareness was limited once again, this time by the soft flesh hanging before it. Bright red lips, still open slightly, with cream the colour of moonlight leaking out. It opened the human's mouth and licked with his tongue, exploring the soft folds and seeking out the vampire's button.

She gave a shuddering sigh and pressed herself down. The demon tasted her arousal, mixed with the human's seed. The borrowed body was responding, it noticed, with a fresh surge of blood pumping into the half-flaccid cock.

Far away the vampire cooed softly, then warmth enveloped the shaft. Lips and tongue teased at the most sensitive areas, and it took all the demon's concentration to focus on the moist warmth above it.

The vampire's button swelled and grew under its borrowed tongue, and her body shivered with every lick. Muscles in her arse and thighs clenched and unclenched, and the lips on Hew's cock faltered.

Then suddenly she rose, legs stretching in one smooth motion, and she turned to face him. "It is time." Her words were throaty. "Bring me to climax, and you will experience the greatest pleasure of your life."

She placed her feet either side of Hew's hips again and began to lower herself. Her eyes were black orbs, and the beautiful face was haggard and drawn. Red lips pulled back to reveal those sharp teeth, now grown to the size of fangs. The tongue danced before her face like a pair of snakes.

As she closed her eyes and reached down to guide the man's shaft towards her entrance, the demon reached out with Hew's long arm to where the sword lay. Before she could impale herself on the swollen cock, it swung the blade at her.

Red flames appeared along the metal's length, and the vampire gave a shriek when it sank into her skin. Instantly her form began to dissolve, but the red flames were already spreading across her, and even as she turned into silver mist they were eating away at the writhing cloud, burning her from existence as she keened and wailed and shrank, until there was nothing left but echoes and cold.

The demon sent its awareness around the cave, seeking out any trace of the vampire, but none remained. The flames on the sword faded and were gone.

Wake up.

It was tempting to let the human slumber, to take its body and control it forever. But the demon needed Hew still. It knew nothing of these times, this world. For now, it needed Hew as a guide.

"Wh-- what happened?"

Feeling the man return to consciousness, the demon relinquished its control of his body and slipped from his mind.

We survived. The vampire is gone.

"I had a dream." The man seemed to become aware of his naked body, his half-engorged cock, the sword that was still clutched in his fist. "Or maybe it wasn't a dream. Did you--?"

I let her believe you were under her control. Then I slew her.

"Thanks." He pushed himself up and staggered to his feet. "Ooph. I'm trembling." He took a few careful steps towards the cavity where the vampire had hidden. Steadying himself on the table, he looked inside and grinned. "I think we've found the Ring of Egrod the Wise."

***

"So how long have you been down here?"

They were on their way to the surface, the dead sorcerer's cave and its memories behind them. Hew had insisted on burying his erstwhile friends in a makeshift tomb under the table. He placed them under the stone slab with their treasures and a few choice items from the cave that he thought they'd like.

The demon that called itself Astor concealed its impatience. It had waited an eternity, after all. What was an hour more?

When finally Hew had said his farewells, and stuffed the Ring and a few other valuables into his pack, they departed. The sword that held the demon hung sheathed at his waist, on a baldrick that was slung over one shoulder.

The warrior knew the way, although he gave a melancholy sigh and looked back for one last glance at where his friends lay. Then he turned into the winding corridor and went quiet. His silence lasted a long time, and when he spoke the demon was surprised by his question. Still, it was an excellent opportunity to find out more about how much time had passed.

Since the reign of the fourth Emperor Harino.

Already ancient, the demon had been found by the first Harino's sorcerer, and made to serve the Emperor and his descendants for more than a century. After the blade was lost in battle it had passed from hand to hand, although Astor barely recalled those final years.

I was wielded by Emperors and princes. I--

"I've never heard of any Harino. Was that in the Old Empire?"

Old Empire? In my day it was just the Empire.

How much time had passed?

"The last Emperor died two hundred years ago, I think. There were some Regents, but mostly everyone's been fighting ever since."

Chaos. Opportunity. Good.

Hew paused, and pointed ahead. "There's that pit. Hang on. I'll have to jump."

If the demon had had eyes, it would have rolled them. Briefly it considered screaming while they hung suspended over the black hole, but it didn't want to startle the big man. Languishing in a dark pit with a dead body was not how it planned to spend eternity.

Beyond the pit Hew continued. He was talkative, even if he wasn't always very informed.

"Most of the towns and cities rule themselves. I hear there's a queen in Rhonana, beyond the desert, and about a decade ago there was a prince who tried to form a league. That didn't last, though." Hew didn't sound as if he cared much.

"Priests seem to be everywhere. Always whispering, plotting. One priesthood in particular. The Sightless One, that's who they worship. Some kind of god, or demon, or something. I don't trust them, but I've heard they're trying to get a new emperor in power. You know, revive the Empire."

The demon knew the Sightless One -- a being older than gods, older than demons even. A thing of secrets and shadows, and long, cold revenge.

There were few other powers, Hew went on: a handful of cities, cults, merchant networks. All vying for wealth and influence.

"Out here," Hew continued, "Tolan-Tolan is something of a big dog. It's a trade port, and it's ruled by the Keeper. She's..." He trailed off, then sighed. "She's beautiful. She's why we're here, in fact."

Tell me more.

Astor the demon refrained from pointing out that its own presence here had nothing to do with Hew's reasons. It was good that the man already considered it to be on his side.

"Lord Karwin -- that's her counsellor, or something -- he wants to give her the Ring. So she can be the one who unites all the lands and restores the Old Empire."

So gracious of him. But did he not wish to use the Ring himself?