The explosion wasn't fiery, just a percussive thump of force that sent a shower of wood chunks in every direction. I shielded my face with my arms, feeling the sting of tiny splitters against my jacket. When I lowered them, the massive log was gone, replaced by a neat pile of kindling and fire-sized logs. The air smelled of freshly split wood and something else, something sharp and electric that I was starting to associate with the demon king's power.
"There," he said, his voice flat and tight. "The most difficult task is now complete. The rest, I am told, is so simple a child could manage it." He gave me a pointed look. "Let us see if a worm can."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered, kneeling beside the pile of wood. I picked up a piece of kindling, then another, and then set them on top of each other.
I still...
Do not have a lighter.
Or any way to light the wood.
And so, I stare at my fellow worm - Angus. "So...how do we..."
"Uh..." Angus wrung his hands, looking at the pile of wood as if it were a personal insult. "Well...usually...you just...rub two sticks together...?"
"Brilliant," the demon king said, crossing his arms. His biceps, unfairly, looked like they were carved from granite. "Please, continue your primitive ritual. I will watch with breathless anticipation."
I ignored him and picked up two sticks. I rubbed them together. And then I rubbed them together some more. My hands started to get sore. Nothing happened. I tried rubbing them faster. A faint, pathetic wisp of smoke rose from the point of friction, then immediately dissipated. The sticks were now just warm and slightly scuffed.
"Incredible," the demon king drawled from the sidelines. "I become more and more impressed that you have survived to adulthood the longer I observe you."
Now...
Now was not the time to remind him I'd just died by freak accident. That would be giving him too much ammo, I think.
Angus was...blowing on the sticks. Which I think....
I think requires there to be a fire first, before that works. But I appreciate the attempt. If nothing else, at least this makes me look more competent. If only slightly.
I dropped the sticks with a sigh of frustration. "Okay, fine. You win. I can't make fire. We'll freeze. Or get eaten by something that likes the smell of cold, disappointed humans. Are you happy now?"
"There has not been a frittering of a moment's happiness since I was shackled to your wretched existence," he replied, his expression unchanging. He walked toward me, stopping directly in front of the pathetic little pile of kindling. He looked down at it, then at me, then back at it, as if weighing a particularly difficult decision.
He didn't raise a hand. He didn't summon any crackling red energy. He just stood there, staring. For a long, tense moment, nothing happened.
Then he pointed a finger, crackling with energy, at Angus. "Guide. You."
The feathered angel froze mid-blow on the wood. "Y-yes?"
"Light the kindling or I shall use you as the kindling." The demon king's tone was so casual it was terrifying. "I know well you possess the capability, and it won't make this idiot swoon." He flicked a glance toward me.
Angus paled. He held up both hands. "O-okay! Okay! No need to get violent! Heavens forbid! I'll do it!"
He raised his hands palms-up, and a tiny, delicate golden flame flickered to life above them. He carefully, almost reverently, lowered the flame to the pile of kindling. The dry wood caught immediately, and a cheerful, crackling fire sprang to life, bathing the small clearing in a warm, orange glow.
Angus looked quite upset about it, crossing his arms. "Divine flame isn't for firewood..." He pouted.
The demon king watched the flames for a moment, then found a fallen log to sit on, as far from the warmth as possible without being outright in the dark. He rested his elbows on his knees, a picture of brooding discontent. He didn't look at either of us, his gaze lost in the dancing shadows of the forest.
I sat down on the opposite side of the fire, pulling my knees to my chest. The warmth was a welcome relief against the chill of the night. For a long while, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the distant chirping of crickets. It was almost… peaceful. Almost.
"Your ogling is so incessant it is a physical presence. It is… grating." The demon King broke the silence.
"I wasn't ogling." I was staring at the fire.
"Liar."
Okay.
Maybe my peripheral vision is a bit too active.
"What was your world like?" Angus asked, probably trying to break the tension.
"Boring. Warm. Full of people who had a healthy respect for pants." I replied. "And you could order pizza."
"Pizza....!" Angus gasped.
It gave me the impression he had some distant understanding of it. Something probably not quite accurate, but impressive. The demon king remained silent, a stoic statue of disinterest in the shadows.
"What about you?" I asked, directing my question to the shadowy figure. "You know, before you got shackled to a defective worm."
The demon king finally looked at me, the firelight catching in his purple eyes. "My world is not a topic for witless mortals. It is a realm of eternal twilight, of obsidian spires that pierce a bruised violet sky. It is a place of power, of conquest, of demons who do not cower behind pathetic collars."
"Yet its leader ended up with a necklace chained to a fresh import." I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. The warmth in my chest pulsed, a small, steady beat that seemed to give me a sliver of courage. Or maybe just a sliver of poor impulse control.
He stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he looked at the necklace that settled on his chest, the golden links glinting in the firelight. A muscle in his jaw worked. "When you are dead, I'll trace the source of this collar and rain down a torment so absolute they will beg for the oblivion I grant them. The memory of my humiliation is a debt I will repay in fire."
Angus made a small, squeaking sound and hid behind a tree.
It did not particularly instill great confidence in me for this Titania, if her representative kept hiding from the one she'd caught.
Then again, maybe it was just the necklace I didn't feel confident in.