Fluttershy hummed to herself as she dabbed at a diamond dog’s head, the cloth she used quickly growing damp. In front of her, the injured dog whined and twisted on his small cot, his eyes screwed tightly shut. Seeing that her efforts were mostly in vain, Fluttershy looked around for some help alleviating the dog’s agony.
Around her were several other beds of a similar variety, all arrayed within a shall alcove along the cliffside. Sheltered from the wind and snow by a magical dome, the impromptu first aid tent was near capacity, though there were few doctors. Those with medical knowledge moved amongst the rows, doing what they could to heal the wounded.
Amongst their number was Rarity, the unicorn having ditched the majority of her armor in favor of a heavy winter coat. She offered words of thanks and gave company to those who needed it, or a sip from a flask to those who required something else. She also gave out health potions to some, though they were in the minority as most sported wounds that were not so easily healed.
Fluttershy worked her way through the crowd, making her way next to Rarity just as she was slipping her flask back into a pocket.
“Remember, Rosco, you can't have any more until you are on your feet again,” Rarity exclaimed.
The dog nodded. “I wish I could, Miss Rarity, but the pain lingers, sapping my strength and leaving me weak.”
“Think nothing of it, darling,” Rarity replied. “You just come back to us when you are good and ready. In the meantime, enjoy the brief vacation from Daisy’s yelling.”
The injured male chuckled weakly and smiled. “I will, Miss Rarity.”
“Um, Miss Rarity,” Fluttershy whispered.
“Hmm? Oh, hello darling,” Rarity exclaimed with a smile. “Oh, and drop the whole miss thing. I’d ask the same of my pack, but I’m afraid they have a hard time listening to me.”
A couple of the injured dogs laughed along at the comment.
“Oh, um, okay. Rarity,” Fluttershy murmured.
“How can I help you?” Rarity inquired.
“I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help?” Fluttershy asked.
“Hmmm, not really,” Rarity replied with a shrug. “Those left here need only time and a little company to shake off the effects of that nasty demon.”
“Oh… okay,” Fluttershy muttered.
“But that doesn't mean we can't help,” Rarity stated.
Fluttershy blinked. “Oh? What can we do?”
“Well… do you play an instrument by chance?” Rarity inquired.
“N-no. Sorry. I can sing though,” Fluttershy offered.
“Perfect,” Rarity exclaimed, turning sharply and clopping her hooves together. “Daisy, darling. Wake up, we have work to do.”
“Huh, what? I’m awake,” murmured the diamond dog, sitting upright in one of the beds.
“Where did you put my violin?” Rarity asked.
Daisy rubbed at her eyes and shrugged. “I don't know. Probably with the rest of your so-called emergency supplies.”
Rarity huffed, but offered no retort, merely trotting over to the side of the alcove where several large bags waited. Fluttershy glanced around, searching for anyone else who may be able to join their little impromptu band. Sure enough, she found a paladin lying nearby with a broken leg, a harmonica filling the air with soft notes.
There didn't seem to be anyone else that could help them, at least on first glance anyway. An inspection of the passing flow of soldiers moving up the mountain revealed that a grinning imp was hopping along while playing a guitar. The tune was random, and her instrument was a little beat up, but the small female demon seemed enthusiastic if nothing else.
Fluttershy hastily trotted after the skipping imp and tapped her shoulder. “Um, excuse me, but would you mind joining us for a song or two? We are trying to cheer up the others,” Fluttershy asked.
The imp glanced up at the pony in confusion and then nodded excitedly, bouncing after the pegasus. Fluttershy then swiftly made her way to the paladin, who eyed her closely, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
“What do ya need, missy?” he asked.
“I was wondering if you could join us for a song,” Fluttershy offered.
The imp strummed out a few quick chords in emphasis.
“I suppose. It's not like I have anything better to do until this potion starts doing its work,” exclaimed the paladin as he clambered into a waiting wheelchair.
Fluttershy beamed and gripped the chair, pushing it and its occupant over to Rarity. Just as the mare had managed to locate a rather worn and well-loved violin from one of her many bags.
“Aha, here it is. I knew I packed it,” Rarity murmured, turning around. “Now then, do you know… oh my. We have quite the little band going, don't we?”
“I thought it would be fun,” Fluttershy offered.
“And it will be!” Rarity quickly exclaimed. “Now then, why don't we start with a good warm-up, like the Equestrian national anthem. After that, we could move on to something else. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I like Goodbye Butterflies,” Fluttershy murmured.
“The Highwaymen is my favorite,” offered the paladin.
“Kill, Murder, Blood Kill!” shouted the imp. “I wrote it this morning.”
Rarity smiled awkwardly. “Why don't we save that one for last.”
The female imp bobbed her head excitedly.
“Right.” Rarity picked up her violin and placed the bow against the strings. “A one, a one two, a one two three four-”
Rainbow Dash crouched low to the ground, her body mostly hidden behind the rocky outcropping before her. Perched up the side of a cliff overlooking the long winding road to Canterlot, the vengant was almost invisible. Her flames burned low, and to an onlooker, she would have been just another grey blob amidst the snow-covered mountainside.
From that spot, the demon could see nearly everything on the road, as well as near the gatehouse leading to the city. Obscured by a dome of magical energy, the stone wall stood tall but was barely manned, sporting only a few demons wielding ranged weapons. The true defender of the small, ill-used entrance was a single demonic entity of truly unparalleled size and stature.
Standing at over thirteen feet tall, and coming up to nearly half the total height of the wall, he was an impressive specimen. His armor was made up of what looked like elongated screaming faces molded into a form-fitting plate mail that left no spot uncovered. Bipedal, and with an extra set of arms, the demon was able to wield two greatswords as well as two shorter blades at the same time.
Draped around his midsection was a ragged red sash that dripped blood onto the snow that gathered around his booted feet. No matter how high the white fluff gathered, or how loud the wind howled, the demon refused to move. Like an onyx monolith of hatred, the great horned demon stared straight ahead, only his twin eyes of burning coal visible from within his horned helm.
“What kind of demon is that?” whispered a voice.
It took all of Rainbow Dash’s willpower not to jump and instead turn slowly to where she found a familiar earth pony. Wrapped from head to hoof in heavy clothing was Applejack, still sporting her usual hat despite the high winds.
“He is a paragon of war,” Rainbow Dash began. “And his name is Balam. He was Tirek’s jailor, and at one point, a teacher of mine. He was also supposed to be dead though.”
“So? You demons die all the time,” Applejack replied.
Rainbow Dash sneered. “Not like that. He was given his final death at the hands of the Nightmare’s servants. There isn't supposed to be any coming back from that.”
“Well, the windigos weren't supposed to come back either,” Applejack pointed out.
Rainbow Dash snorted and turned to look back down at the gatehouse. “Still. This is different. When a demon dies as he did, their soul doesn't just go somewhere else, it disintegrates. There is nothing to bring back, nor a spirit to call from the void.”
“Weird,” Applejack murmured.
“That's an understatement,” Rainbow Dash remarked. “I knew the Nightmare was a prime evil, but even I didn't think she had that kind of power.”
“Aww, chin up, ya walking furnace. We can still do this,” Applejack declared, squeezing the demon around the shoulders.
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “I know it's still possible, this just… complicates matters.”
“At least we got those changelings to help us out,” Applejack offered.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Rainbow Dash replied. “Though I don't remember it happening, apparently we’ve already met this Chrysalis person before, and now we have a second changeling claiming to be her.”
“I didn't detect any lies from her when she said that though,” Applejack corrected.
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “You don't need to believe what you’re saying is untruthful for it to be a lie. She could genuinely believe she's Chrysalis, or maybe they just have the same name. Changelings are dumb.”
“Hmm,” Applejack grunted. “Think it's worth checking out?’
“Not really,” Rainbow Dash answered. “They are weak, starving, and are even less of a threat than you ponies, if you can believe it.”
“Wow, thanks,” Applejack muttered.
“Oh, don't take that the wrong way,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “I’m only speaking individually. As a group, you're more dangerous than any mass of demons.”
“I’m not sure that actually makes me feel better,” Applejack remarked.
“Either way, we gotta report this to the head honchos,” Rainbow Dash stated. “Come on.”
“No, this won't do,” Kanathara muttered to herself.
She flipped through her grimoire at a rapid pace, stopping occasionally to read a page, only to continue on. Nothing held her attention for long, the demon unable to find something that would fit her requirements. Her frustration grew and grew until with a bitter sigh, she slammed the tome shut and let it dangle from her neck.
“How am I going to get rid of that big stupid oaf?” she asked the empty tent.
“You in there, Kana?” asked a familiar, bubbly voice.
“It's Kanathara, and I’m here,” replied the keeper of secrets.
In popped the frightening pink head of Pinkie Pie, the mare’s signature mane mostly hidden beneath a hood. With her arrival, a cold breeze billowed into the cramped, one-person tent, causing Kanathara to shiver briefly.
“Whatcha doing in here?” Pinkie Pie inquired.
“Trying to figure out how to get rid of Balam using magic,” Kanathara answered. “A frighteningly difficult proposition, given just how tough that stupid jerk is.”
“I mean, there are like… a ton of us. I think we can take him,” Pinkie Pie exclaimed.
Kanathara rolled her eyes and shot the pony a deadpan glare. “It's not nearly that easy. He's a paragon of war, a demon of the highest caliber. He grows stronger for each foe arrayed before him. The only hope we have is to duel him or banish him somehow.”
“Huh, that is a pickle,” Pinkie Pie muttered.
“Yes now, would you please leave? I am trying to think of a plan here,” Kanathara hissed.
“Well, why don't you chat with your folks? I’m sure they’ll have a few ideas,” Pinkie Pie offered, seemingly unbothered by Kanathara’s continued glaring.
“I am the strongest magic user here. If I can't find a way through him, then no one can,” Kanathara stated.
“Buuuut,” Pinkie Pie continued, slipping further into the tent and wrapping a hoof around the demon’s shoulders. “They could help lead you down the right path. They may not be as strong, or as smart, but that doesn't mean they are useless.”
“Of course not,” Kanathara muttered. “But the burden lies on my shoulders, not theirs. I have to do this alone.”
“Why?” Pinkie Pie asked.
Kanathara frowned. “Because I just have to.”
“Why?” Pinkie Pie repeated.
For several seconds, Kanathara said nothing, merely stewing silently in her anger, contemplating how to remove Pinkie Pie from her tent. Then she gave up and released a long, exhausted sigh. Standing up, Kanathara conjured a thick fluffy coat before dispelling the magical barrier which had been holding out the snow up until that point.
“Fine, let us go speak with the others,” Kanathara muttered.
“Oh, I just know they’ll be able to help you out. They are all so resourceful and cool,” Pinkie Pie exclaimed.
“They certainly are,” Kanathara agreed.
Together they walked in silence, making their way through the gathered throng of soldiers and assistants. Squashed between the edge of a cliff and the mountain itself, there wasn't a lot of space left to move. Thankfully there was just enough room cleared in the center to allow the pair passage towards the front.
They passed by several undisguised changelings moving a large crate, the pair overseen by a towering pain demon. They shuffled out of the way at the last moment, allowing Kanathara and Pinkie Pie to continue on unimpeded. After that, their passage was not blocked again, though they did have to swerve on occasion to dodge someone that didn't notice them.
Within minutes, they had wound their way up to the forefront of the army, where the leader of each faction waited. Dawn Hammer sat on a stool, a foreleg slung across his chest in a sling, an assistant waiting patiently nearby. The others stood in a rough semi-circle several hundred meters from the front of the gatehouse, with only a thin line of bodyguards between them and Balam.
“I assume we’ve gotten all the shock out of our systems by now?” Kanathara half asked, half stated.
Tirek snorted. “Quite. Even tried speaking to him a few times. Just repeated the phrase, ‘None shall pass,’ like he's in some kinda fantasy novel.”
“He's slaved to the Nightmare’s will. That much is certain,” Pear Butter added.
“He's just one demon, how hard could he be to, errm… dispose of?” Rarity asked somewhat awkwardly.
“If facing an army, he would be a nearly impossible force which the enemy may break themselves upon,” spoke a voice, prompting Kanathara to turn where Pythias now stood amongst them.
The seer wore her usual deep robes obscuring nearly her entire body. The only things that were visible were her clawed digits and the twin flames that occupied the space where her eyes should be. Though on second glance Kanathara realized that her usual garb had been replaced by one bearing images of the sun.
Compared to her more dour choice in clothing, the new threads were downright warm and welcoming in a way. They were the kind Kanathara had seen some of the healers who served amongst the paladins wear. The hood was ringed in scarlet unmoving flames, but remained deep, casting all but her eyes in an impenetrable shadow.
“Which is why I alone shall fight him,” Pythias declared.
“Out of the question,” Tirek stated firmly. “You are no match for him.”
“None of us are,” Pear Butter added. “Which is why we have to tunnel around him and hope that whatever minimal programming placed upon him allows this.”
“I mean, he's just one guy,” Applejack remarked.
“One who would stall our advance long enough to invalidate our entire march here,” Dawn Hammer declared, rotating his broken limb. “We could rush him and go around, but that would leave us open to counterattack.”
“There are no other options, if he fights anyone else, he will only become more powerful, while I am too weak to trigger that change in him,” Pythias stated firmly, her usually quiet voice now filled with confidence. “I have seen that I may win. I know I can do it.”
The group was quiet for several seconds, each party silently considering their options.
“How confident are you?” Kanathara asked.
Pythias didn't hesitate. “Confident enough to risk it all.”
“I say we give her a chance,” Kanathara exclaimed.
“Absolutely not,” Tirek interjected, his tone firm and unyielding. “I will not have you throw your life away when we have yet to even consider other options.”
Pythias suddenly stepped forward and wrapped a hand around the centaur's right wrist. The fear demon stilled, and after several seconds of quiet where the only noise was the wind, he sighed. His shoulders grew slack, tears budded, unshed at the edge of his eyes before finally Pythias stepped back.
“Fine,” Tirek muttered. “But I expect you to survive this.”
“I will,” Pythias exclaimed.
“Well, uh, good luck, I guess,” Dawn Hammer muttered.
“Thank you, Dawn Hammer,” Pythias replied before turning suddenly. “Would you join me, Kanathara?”
The keeper of secrets blinked in surprise and then nodded. “Of course, Pythias. What do you need?”
“Company,” Pythias answered in a quiet, almost solemn tone.
Kanathara waved off Rainbow Dash’s concern and walked forward, matching pace with the tall, lanky seer. For a few seconds, there was only the soft crunch of the snow, the howl of the wind, and the distant clamor of the gathered army. Then, Pythias stopped and turned to her companion, eyes flickering like dying embers.
“I want you to deliver a message,” Pythias exclaimed.
“Stop,” Kanathara interjected. “I will not deliver your final will and testament because you are coming back from this, and that's final.”
Pythias chuckled. “It's not that. I actually want you to deliver a message to Celestia when you see her.”
“You can tell her yourself,” Kanathara shot back.
“Kanathara, trust me as you have trusted me in the past,” Pythias pleaded.
Kanathara sighed. “Fine, what is it?”
“Tell her I was wrong for leaving. I was wrong for taking the artifact through the mirror, and tell her that…” Pythias hesitated a moment. “Tell her that Sunset Shimmer will always be her student, now and forever.”
“I will,” Kanathara replied.
Though Kanathara could not see the seer’s mouth, the keeper knew her friend was smiling.
“Good. Now then, if I win, I will remain at the gate. This is the only way in or out of the city at this point, and I will be commanding a force to ensure we are not struck from behind,” Pythias continued, rotating her shoulders as she spoke. “When you move into the city, it will be the last time we will see one another until the deed is done, and this plane is safe once more.”
Kanathara seemed ready to argue, only for the demon to sigh. “I suppose there is no point in talking you out of this or pointing out the flaws in your assessment?”
“Why bother when I’ve already heard them all?” Pythias replied with a smirk, tapping the side of her head with a finger.
“Fair. Just, don't take all night, okay? I don't know how long I can hold Tirek back,” Kanathara remarked while walking away.
“You will hold him for long enough,” Pythias exclaimed.
Then without looking back, Pythias strode forward, drawing an almost comically small dagger from some hidden pocket. To a demon of her size and stature, it was little more than a letter opener, though to a pony it would be a short sword. Wielding only the glorified needle, Pythias stepped forward, her pace slow, each step measured down to the millimeter.
Her opponent remained impassive the entire time, standing perfectly still until at last Pythias was only a few meters away. Then he shifted suddenly, pointing one greatsword toward her while the other hung back, waiting to strike. In his two lower arms he had switched weapons and now wielded a whip, while the other held a pointed dagger which sported only a sharpened tip.
“I invoke the rite of single combat,” Pythias stated.
Balam stood silently for a moment before nodding. “It is done, may the best fighter win.”
No sooner had those words left his mouth that the demon lurched forward, thrusting his greatsword at the seer. Who sidestepped mere inches out of reach, the sheer force of the strike making her robes billow behind her. Balam was not done there, however, as he thrust forward with his dagger while remaining close.
Pythias twisted once more, ducking and weaving around the blade, avoiding it and the pommel strike that would have caved in her skull. A side slash from a greatsword forced her to bend over backward to dodge it, nearly getting knocked over by the wind that followed the weapon. A second chop hit only air, though it did force Pythias right into the path of Balam’s waiting whip.
For a moment all who were watching the fight thought it was over already, only for Pythias’ tiny blade to turn the whip aside, parried perfectly. Pythias continued to twist, dodging a backhanded swipe before leaping over a sweeping strike. Pirouetting to the left, she avoided another crack of the whip, only to immediately be forced into deflecting a dagger strike with her own small weapon.
To an onlooker, it appeared as though the pair were dancing in perfect harmony. Each swipe of Balam’s mighty blades sent snow flying, causing small flurries that briefly obscured the two combatants. Then the wind would clear, and all could see as Pythias continued to dodge, twist, and parry with the skill of an expert swordsman.
Always one step ahead, Pythias avoided each strike sent her way by the smallest possible margin. Mere millimeters or milliseconds were all that stood between her and an attack that would kill her if only it landed. Throughout it all, she never once tried to strike back or use her own dagger for anything but parrying.
“What is she doing?” Rainbow Dash whispered. “That puny little thing could never kill Balam.”
“There are few people in this world that have truly earned our trust, and she is one of those individuals,” Kanathara stated calmly. “Give her a chance.”
Rainbow Dash huffed silently to herself, but said nothing.
Pythias heard none of this, her entire mind occupied by the herculean task of merely staying out of the reach of her foe. A near impossibility, given the incredible speed at which the attacks rained down upon her. Two, sometimes three swipes were launched in a single second, forcing the seer to twist in ways few living creatures could manage.
Knees extended and arms stuck straight out, allowing the seer to avoid a two-handed swipe and a thrust from Balam’s dagger. She then fell back into a handspring, launching herself into the air and dodging another pair of chops that would have cut her in half. The robed demon then landed and fell immediately into the splits, avoiding a quartet of attacks aimed at ending her right there.
Somehow, she then twisted her body and sprung up from the ground, dodging two overhead chops. Leaping to the left, Pythias deflected a whip strike, then bent to the side, allowing her to avoid another swipe. The follow-up attack would have decapitated the seer, but she was already hopping back, dancing out of range of the attack.
This delicate back and forth happened so fast that few could follow its finer details. To them they saw only a jumping, leaping, twisting seer hopping about the battlefield without any rhyme or reason. For those who could keep up, they saw a delicate, if one-sided waltz where Balam led with a firm, ungentle hand.
“Oh, I can't watch,” Applejack murmured.
“Shh,” Rarity hushed.
“Is this all part of some plan? Are we supposed to go around them?” Fluttershy inquired.
“Just watch,” Kanathara stated.
The group continued to do just that, observing as the duo continued their rapid-fire back and forth. Action, reaction, swipe, and dodge, over and over seemingly without end. Balam was fast, faster than most mortals were even capable of replicating, yet Pythias somehow kept up. Even with all four of the war paragon’s weapons striking at her, she managed to stay one step ahead of them.
Soon the snow banks that had built up around the walls were scattered, and the flurries less frequent. Snow continued to fall, but it could not sit on the ground for long before being kicked back into the air. Sent aflutter by blade, foot or movement, the fluffy white crystals added a strange, almost ethereal air to the fight. Turning the dance of death into something better suited for a stage or an ice rink.
Their forms partially obscured by the snow, few were truly aware of how close Pythias was. Blades whizzed past her close enough to trim errant strands of fabric that stuck out from her robes. Whip cracks snapped overhead with such thunderous force that the seer was briefly deafened by the sound.
Several times a second, she was a hair’s breadth away from certain death, her life dangling by a single thread. Bend, dip, dodge, parry, each one of these actions was repeated several times in the span of a single eye blink. Throughout it all, she never once even attempted a counterattack, seemingly fine with staying on the defensive.
“How much longer can she keep doing this? She must be exhausted,” Applejack thought aloud.
“M-maybe we should help,” Fluttershy offered.
“No,” Kanathara stated firmly. “Her plan hinged on this fight being between only her and him. If we interfere now, she will surely die.”
“Let us cheer for her from the sidelines,” Rarity offered.
“Oh, um, okay… yay!” Fluttershy squeaked.
“That was sad,” Rainbow Dash remarked. “But for once I won't tell you to be louder. We wouldn't want to distract her.”
“Wait, something’s happening,” Applejack declared.
All eyes turned back to Pythias just as she neared the edge of the cliff, with the castle wall only a few feet away. With frighteningly little room to maneuver, Pythias struggled to stay out of striking range of the enormous greatswords. Trapped within the reach of the larger weapons, Pythias continued to dodge the flurry of dagger thrusts.
Though she was staying ahead of them for the most part, they were somehow getting even closer. The space of a single hair was all that lay between Pythias and a blow that would surely end her. Yet she didn't try to maneuver out of the way, or slip off to the side, remaining nearly right up against Balam’s chest.
Then, out of nowhere, the towering paragon of war reached forward with all four arms, attempting to grapple the seer. With seemingly nowhere to go, Pythias did the unthinkable and somehow slipped through the larger demon’s legs. She then kicked herself off the magical barrier that protected the city wall and with a backward stab, sunk her dagger into Balam’s neck.
Leaving the weapon buried to the hilt in the paragon’s body, Pythias rolled away, avoiding a backward swipe. That attack turned out to be the last one Balam ever made, as he suddenly toppled forward, collapsing to his side. His weapons clattered to the ground, and the twin coals that were his eyes flickered once before dying.
Pythias herself remained standing for only a moment longer, before the eye which sat on the center of her forehead closed. She then fell over, panting heavily and only just barely collapsing fully, her hands splayed wide on the cold ground. The demons atop the wall immediately panicked upon seeing their champion perish, and abandoned their posts, fleeing into the city.
“Let's go,” Kanathara commanded.
The order was unneeded, as her friends, along with Tirek and Pear Butter all sprinted forward. Upon reaching the downed female, Tirek immediately scooped her up, cradling her in his arms.
“That was too close,” he quietly chastised.
“It was the only way,” Pythias wheezed. “Had to make myself the smallest possible threat. Otherwise he would have been too strong, too fast.”
“Darn good fighting there, Pythias,” Applejack exclaimed. “Ya’ll should do that more often.”
“Thank you, but I think I am going to avoid combat for a while. My powers are exhausted, as am I,” Pythias murmured.
“Let's get you to the healer tent,” Pear Butter offered.
“No,” Pythias interrupted. “I must now take command of the rear guard while you all move inside the city. There is precious little time, and I can feel it growing shorter by the second.”
“You heard her, get moving on that barrier while everyone else gets packed up,” Kanathara barked.
Tirek ignored the hubbub of the noise and merely focused on Pythias, placing the seer gently onto her own two feet.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For giving me the chance to atone.”
“My fate may have been less than pleasant, but it was far better than what would have happened had I fallen into the hands of another. You have earned a chance at redemption,” Pythias replied.
“I look forward to paying you back for everything done to you,” Tirek added.
The fear demon then waved off Pear Butter’s concern and trotted over to the downed form of Balam.
“I know that wasn't enough to kill you,” stated the centaur.
The paragon of war opened his eyes and glanced over at Tirek. “What says I’m not dead? I got my spine severed, didn't I?”
“Because you're talking right now,” Tirek pointed out.
“Fair enough. Don't suppose you could hurry me along by chance?” Balam inquired. “I can't regenerate while that thing is stuck in my spine, but it's also not enough to kill me.”
“Are you sure your mistress would allow that?” Tirek replied.
“Her focus shifted elsewhere the second she thought I died. Though it will return, should I be able to heal enough to stand,” Balam explained.
“Then I suppose I should give you the peace you deserve,” Tirek remarked.
“Heh, peace. Always hated it,” Balam muttered. “Too quiet, too… stagnant. I suppose it's about time I give it a chance though.”
Tirek laid his hands over the top of the other demon’s head. “Trust me, old friend. Peace does wonderful things to a man.”