The Ashen Fortress

[Kuzuru]

The demon sat cross-legged on his bed, with his back resting against the wall. In his lap he cradled a cheap electric guitar, complete with a cliche’ flame paintjob. A thin black cord wrapped around his ankle and plugged into the guitar traveled across the room and into a series of amplifiers. A dissonant sound squealed from the speakers as he strummed a series of chords. Kuzuru sighed as the cacophony faded into nonexistence. He looked up at Miranda and then back down to his guitar.

“Yo,” the demon responded to Miranda’s intrusion of his room, “you know where I come from polite people knock, course I’d suppose politeness is a short commodity here.”

As if to punctuate the sentence he plucked another chord and released another awful sound. Miranda said nothing.

“You know what’s funny?” Kuzuru asked and then continued without waiting for an answer, “no matter how much I practice, no matter how many hours I pour into this thing, I never get any better, and believe me I’ve tried, it’s fascinating to be quite honest with you, I’ve never really practiced to get any better at killing and I’m a natural at it, I came into my world a more capable swordsman than anyone that had lived, and yet despite the countless hours I’ve thrown at this thing I simply cannot improve.”

He strummed again and then set the guitar to the side.

“I suppose you didn’t come here for my life story,” he said, “have you seen our blood well yet?”

“Actually, yes I have,” Miranda responded, “it seems my blood didn’t mix well.”

“Oh, no matter, the intent is all that really matters” Kuzure said, waving his hand, “to be honest with you that’s all I really wanted to talk to you about, congratulations, you’re one of us now.”

“That’s it?” she asked, barely hiding her annoyance, “nothing else?”

“Hmmm,” the demon bit the pad of his thumb and shrugged, “no not really, we’re pretty laid back here, kill people get paid, cause mayhem get paid, y’know, standard mercenary fair, you’re free to do as you will unless we absolutely need your help.”

“That girl… Cinder, what do you intend to do with her?”

Kuzuru shrugged again. “I was gonna kill her, but she asked me to mentor her so she could get strong enough to kill me,” he chuckled for a moment before continuing, “the whole idea tickles me so I figured I’d humor her and train her to kill me.”

“Oh, you don’t believe that she can?” Miranda asked.

“Oh, I suppose I haven’t given it much thought, she certainly couldn’t do it now, but she has that, oh what do they call it, that warrior spirit,” the demon answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Frost spoke, “you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.”

With that the demon laughed. He smacked his knee and pointed at the woman that stood before him.

“I like you Frost, I really do,” he said, “well maybe one day we’ll be on either side of a sword, but let’s give it time, get to know each other first, after all these kind of things age like fine wine, nice and slow.”

“I don’t like how light of the situation you’re making this but,” she paused for a moment and then continued, “perhaps you’re right, in either case, it is better for you to know that as of right now, I don’t trust you.”

“Well I suppose as long as you’re not the kind of person who would stab me in my sleep, but rather the kind of person that would stab me while I’m awake, we’ll be just fine Frost,” Kuzuru said, his lips curling into a smile, “after all we’re in a den of wolves.”

“Understandable,” Miranda answered.

After the two shared a moment of silence Kuzuru leaned back and stretched out across his bed. He nodded towards his companion and said, “have a pleasant day Frost.”

“Whatever,” she muttered and left the room.

Kuzuru sighed. He shut his eyes and hummed softly. Oh how interesting this world was, and what splendid wonders it still had to offer. The demon dreamed of blood as his mind drifted off to sleep. Ballad’s execution had begun to fade and in its place a gnawing hunger resurfaced. Soon he would have to sate that hunger, but for now leisure was an acceptable pursuit.