Gods and Demons Don't Mix. (Font Demon x OC)

Chapter Two: A Question of Being

The demon watched as the young redhead walked stiffly away, smoke swirling around her like tendrils of blue-black ink. A shaft of early dawn sunlight penetrated the gloom, spotlighting the goddess like some treasured artefact. The dusky gold light set her hair alight until it shone like fine spun copper and gilded her sun kissed skin bronze. It was only a fleeting glimpse, and then she was gone.

Zohra... so that is her name...

Icy blue eyes searched the smoke for another hint of her presence, but frustratingly it was too late. A part of the demon wanted to follow her, to find out more as to why she had stood up for him and spared his life, another wanted nothing more to do with the beguiling figure. Her simple presence had been sending soft shivers of cold dancing up and down his spine throughout their every encounter, and the way she had looked at him... The demon mentally shook himself, trying to rid his unusually tumultuous mind of those liquid amber eyes. He couldn't afford to be distracted from his duty, especially when it was in the servitude of his species' natural enemy. Fortunately for him, the rebellious reverie was cut short by the hubristic voice of the Monkey King.

"Demon! Pay attention!"

Obediently the demon turned back, albeit a little reluctantly, only to have Monkey's staff pointed at his face, in a manner that he found rather offending considering that the demon was bound by ancient magic to do the bidding of the monk. Coolly, the demon raised a dark brow in response, earning a glare from the considerably shorter god. There was something about the self-proclaimed 'King' that really rubbed the demon up the wrong way. Probably because he's a stuck-up little prick who thinks he owns everything. Said the more rebellious part of the demon's conscience; and because he's already kicked your ass so many times that I've lost count, and because he's considerably better than you in every way, and because-

"What is your bidding, Master?" The demon asked the monk in a deadpan voice, making sure to both ignore the Monkey King and to silence his own thoughts. The human jumped a little, she was obviously unused to having such an entity under her control. The demon glanced at Monkey, the god didn't really count as being under the human's control unless she used that incantation on him, other than that, the god did as he pleased.

"We're going to find one of the lesser damaged taverns so we can rest before we set off tomorrow. I need you to find Zohra for me and bring her to our temporary base. Can you do that for me?" A glimmer of exhilaration sparked within the demon, but was quickly quenched by the Monkey King's interrupting comment. "And find us some supplies for our journey." He chipped in. The demon was about to nod when the rotund god, Pigsy, added; "Oh, I've got a list! And could you also pick up half a dozen honey cakes? Those things are sooo good."

The demon refrained from rolling his eyes but took the list and scarpered before the gods could add yet another chore to the long roll of parchment. This is not what I was created for... he thought as he picked his way across the rubble strewn cobbles. It was humiliating, being the scullery maid to his enemy, and his master was a human no less. If anything he should be the one in charge, not some scrawny, under-fed mortal girl who couldn't tell a hex from a jinx. The demon huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes; but then again... this may be what Destiny wants for me. After all, I am built to serve. There was less smoke in the air now, even though the scent of ashes was still heavy on the breeze. The clammy wind toyed with the demon's loose white hair and threw particles of dust into his eyes, but he didn't need to wipe it away. He was an object, an artificial device, an entity with no need for sleep nor food. Or a purpose except that which is to serve. But what if it didn't have to be like that? What if you could be free? Whispered his defective side. Free? I am not supposed to be free; I must serve and please my master, else I'll be expelled to the Sprit realm. He hissed back savagely, picking up pace as he walked. A few mortals were starting a pathetic clean-up effort, scavenging what could be reused, piling what couldn't into heaps which were then to be set alight. As the demon walked by, eyes followed him in horror. A few threw triumphant insults as he passed, the humans were obviously full of the elation of victory over their oppressors. Instead of turning around and retaliating with a volley of hexes as he normally would have done, the demon simply turned at the next corner onto a quieter street and switched form.