The feeling was mutual. The feeling was also not very effective at keeping me warm. The deeper we walked into the forest, the colder it became. I hugged my arms around myself, rubbing them in a futile attempt to generate some friction. My breath plumed in the cold air. The moon was a sliver of white in the sky, offering little light.
I tripped over a root, stumbling forward with a cry. I would have fallen face-first into a patch of moss, but a hand shot out and caught my arm, hauling me upright. It was the demon king, of course. His grip was firm, almost painfully so, and he let go as soon as I was steady.
"Must you make every step an ordeal?" he asked, his voice laced with a weary sort of contempt.
"Must you make every interaction a personal attack on my very existence?" I shot back, rubbing my arm where he'd grabbed me.
"Perhaps if your fawning companion were to do anything but panic and cry, I would have no need to." He said, not looking at me. "He is supposed to be your guide."
"I'm! Only a guide! It's against the rules for me to do anything else...!" Angus peered at the man from behind me - which was quite the accomplishment, hiding behind me when he was the taller of us. "A-and! I am! Completely impervious to damage so! Don't even! Think about it!"
"Oh?" There was a spark of something in his violet eyes that...were it any less dangerous, I might call humor. "Is that so?"
"Y-Yes!!" Angus puffed out his chest, a brave, and very stupid little angel. "The celestial body cannot be harmed by the likes of some! Demon!"
Before I could stop him, the Demon King raised a lazy hand and flicked his fingers.
A tiny, almost delicate bolt of red light shot out, hitting Angus squarely in the chest.
The angel froze, a comical look of utter shock on his face. Then, he began to... jiggle. His form wobbled and distorted like an image on a broken screen. Then, with a sound like a deflating balloon, he poofed out of existence, leaving behind a single, perfect pink feather that drifted down to land on the forest floor.
The demon king stared at the spot where the angel had been. Then, he looked at the feather. Then, he looked at me. He raised an eyebrow. "Impervious."
My jaw hung open. I looked at the feather. I looked at the empty space. I looked at him. A hysterical, slightly unhinged giggle escaped my lips. "You popped him."
"He is… annoyingly resilient." He huffed, and picked up the feather like he was looking at a bit of trash. "And a cowardly idiot. At least attempt to be convincing when you play dead." He dropped the feather onto the ground with a small flourish of disgust.
Angus reappeared with a soft poof, looking utterly disheveled. His feathers were ruffled and there was a smudge of what looked like soot on his cheek. "You shouldn't attack angels. It will get you cursed!" He pointed an accusing finger, though it was shaking.
The demon king didn't even spare him a glance, his attention now on me. "We will rest here. And you will build a fire." He gestured to the dark, damp woods around us.
"Me? I don't know how to build a fire." I think I might be able to light a barbecue, but then again I've seen people fiddle with gas tanks with those and I'm not quite sure what that has to do with charcoal, so...my track record is spotty at best.
The demon king just looked at me. A long, silent, judgmental stare. "Unbelievable. You cannot stand, you cannot walk, and you cannot even provide basic warmth."
"Well in my world we have these incredible things like cars, heaters, and beds." I said, and pointed at him. "And. Shirts."
He closed the distance between us and loomed over me again. "Do you have a complaint about my choice of attire?" His gaze burned into mine. "You, who seem unable to tear your gaze away, have a problem with what I wear?"
"I..." Words failed me. And for once, it wasn't because I was about to say something stupid. It was because my brain was just... shorting out. He was too close. He was too warm. He smelled of clean water and dark, dangerous things, and the warmth in my chest was suddenly a lot more noticeable.
"Speechless. A rare improvement." He turned away, then paused. "Do you truly know nothing of fire?"
I shook my head, my throat suddenly tight.
He sighed. The most put-upon, I-am-surrounded-by-idiots sigh I have ever heard. He walked to a nearby dead tree, placed a hand on its trunk, and pulled. The tree groaned, then ripped from the ground with a shower of dirt and roots. He held it up like it was a twig. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he snapped it in half.
"There," he said, tossing the two halves of the tree onto the ground in front of me. "Firewood. Now, make it burn."
I stared at the massive logs. Then I stared at him. "The lack of wood was not. The problem."
Well...
I mean. It was. I have no idea how to find good wood. But that was not the main problem.
Especially because I don't know what he expects me to do with a whole tree, either.
He watched me for a long moment, a strange, unreadable expression on his face. He was waiting. For me to produce fire from nothing. Because he was an all-powerful being from another dimension who apparently thought 'lighting a fire' was something one did through sheer force of will.
I knelt down in front of the tree and held out my hands, palm downward.
I stared at the wood.
I thought about fire.
Nothing happened.
I thought about it harder. I pictured a roaring bonfire, a crackling campfire, a single, flickering flame. I tried to feel the warmth in my chest, to channel it toward my hands. The warmth in my chest pulsed, a tiny, steady beat, but nothing came out.
"Ala-ka-fire!" I said, feeling like an absolute idiot. "Mein Zott Flame!" I tried a few other nonsense syllables I remembered from games. Still nothing.
A deep, weary sigh escaped him, a sound like the rustle of dead leaves. "What clownery is this? You attempt to summon fire with... gibberish?"
"I'm brainstorming," I snapped back, not looking up from the wood. "It's a creative process. You wouldn't understand."
"Your creativity is as stagnant as your magic." He crouched down beside me, the movement sudden and silent. "Worthless guide. Chop the wood. I'm certain this one will be useless at that, as well." He pointed to the logs with a contemptuous finger.
"Wh-why me?!" Angus asked, peeking from behind the tree he'd decide to burrow against.
"Because I am not a beast of burden. And you are the one who delivered her in this useless state. You will perform your function."
Angus wrung his hands, but then puffed out his chest and nodded with a determined little frown. "O-okay! For Violet!" He flew at the tree, and started to...headbutt it. Over, and over, and over again. With a small 'bonk' noise each time.
A single piece of bark fell off.
The demon king closed his eyes for a moment, a muscle in his jaw working. I could almost hear the screaming in his head. When he opened them, they fixed on me. "When the both of you die, I will make it a spectacle."
He snapped his fingers, and the wooden tree exploded.