calbrina oneshots

a work of divinity pt.2

It turns out being the brave and arrogant demon who ventures through a portal to save the soul of a queen isn't all it's cracked up to be. At least for Caliban, anyways. Too much time has passed for the exhausted Prince to just call it quits now, though. It's no secret that this whole rescue mission is a means for Caliban to prove himself worthy of ruling over the underworld. He just wishes it would be a bit more simple.

The cocky devil Prince snorted as he reluctantly reminisced on his earlier, more confident days stranded here. Wherever here even was. Caliban had no idea what he got himself into, only how utterly humid and brisk this environment was. The landscape was littered with splotchy red trees, some reaching heights that no plant should acquire. The sun was a boiling mess of fire in the sky that only disappeared when an alignment of four crimson moons surfaced among the clouds. Each step he took was met with oddly sharp grains of sand, the ground covered in it for miles and miles. There were hills and plummeting cliffs. Caliban at least got a laugh out of the rivers of actual blood.

The whole place resembled the inside of an organ, shades of red coloring the atmosphere as far as his eye could see. It made Caliban trade his confidence for paranoia, a lingering thought of "but what if" always plaguing his mind. Perhaps this was all a trick. Sabrina was never hidden deep in this portal. It was all a lie.

But then again, why would her painted face decorate the portal's opening? Surely she isn't just a random design hiding this scarlet plane of existence.

No, Caliban knew she was here. He could sense her anguish. Her fear. At first he believed it was some false sense of hope that this wasn't all some big mistake, but as more days turned to weeks, he knew there was someone else with him. Each day the feeling got stronger, as if Sabrina herself was tugging him closer and closer with a single thread. This thought always amused the demon Prince.

But currently, with a fire as pathetic as the warlock from the bar, Caliban questioned whether this journey would amount to anything great. How could he know that Sabrina would be glad to see him? After all, he was just a stranger in a strange land. But then again, wouldn't any damsel be relieved to see her knight in shining armor?

Caliban could only hope.

With a shaking sigh, Caliban mindlessly reached forward to slap the small pile of burnt stick and ash, clapping out any remaining flames. No more questions or doubts. For now, he needed to lay back and allow his body to relax. This tart, amaranth portal would still be here in the morning, as would Sabrina. A few hours would do no harm.

Letting tired eyes flutter shut, the demon slipped into a much needed slumber, the warmth of peaceful rest enveloping him. The rough texture of a wooden stump below his head was ignored, mind too consumed with the idea of Sabrina. He couldn't fathom that beyond the expanse of crimson sand was the ivory goddess he could only dream of. Caliban felt a warm pool of heat flood his senses, his body squirming against the makeshift bed he pieced together. He felt like a star moments before exploding, his hands curling around a patch of dead grass. His head filled with images of Sabrina, her wide eyes, plush lips, that smooth skin. She was angelic.

How could anyone even think of banishing a woman so pure and powerful? Even trapped in this barren wasteland with no notion of passing time, Caliban could feel her raw energy pulling him. It felt as if she was the sun and he was a simple meteor yearning for her gravitational ardor.

Each breath he let out slowed into a steady, sleeping rhythm, dreams piecing together allowing a small smile to sit unknowingly on his cheeks.

- - eight days later - -

Walking in a straight line was utterly useless at this point, Caliban concluded. Candy red dirt crunched below his soles with each step and filled his ears, the sharp gusts of wind the only other sound around. His eyes squinted as he stared ahead, an expanse of pure red the only thing he could see. These valleys of dirt and dried grass made the days mold together into an endless mess of dry heat and aching body sores. By now, Caliban was ready to tap out.