Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Ninety-Four

Talia regarded her child with cold eyes the colour of hard, weathered copper- dull and green and loveless. This creation of hers had done nought to please her, only serving to distract her son when she thought Talia or her grandfather could not see. Too soft was this child of hers, the pinch of compassion in her soul would bring the downfall of her brother for certain. Yet, she had proved her use...diplomatically. Securing a deal with the Demon Lord relieved Talia of the burden of the girl and supported the League's armoury.

Several foot soldiers held the girl before her mother. She struggled against them to no avail. Talia looked in to her daughter's eyes and had only regret in her mind. Regret that she hadn't stamped out every bit of weakness from the girl at an earlier age. Such a skilled warrior... a shame truly.

The was a cracking behind her, and Talia sensed the Demon Lord's emissaries opening a portal to their realm behind her. Ra's Al Ghul stood in the shadows, beneath an unlit brassier, observing the transaction.

It had been a simple agreement.

Blades forged in the heart of the Wastelands of Hell in exchange for Talia's daughter.

The woman detected a sound from the corridor leading from the room. Footsteps. Running. She turned her head. Damian. His voice cried out and drew his sister's attention.

"Sahara! Sahara! !اختي Sister!"

Another wave of...something...came over Talia, but she pushed that aside, indicating to the foot soldiers to let her be taken away. With a last glance at her daughter's face, Talia suppressed any remote emotions, turned to Damian and prepared to reprimand him.

It would do well to forget entirely the existence of Sahara Al Ghul.

***

Adyn fought to keep an impassive face as his sister was dragged away, blood seeping from her ripped flesh and staining the floors of this room in Trigon's palace (designated specifically for punishment). Besides him, Ephron drew dangerously close, twirling his throwing blades in his fingers, and taunted, "Watch yourself brother, uphold that kind of talk and both brother Tavor and our sister will face my...wrath.", he grinned at the irony of his words.

The two of them received a summons from the throne room, the two sons of Trigon made their way there, running in to an unsuspecting servant on the way. Ephron snarled at him and the demon slammed in to the wall opposite, almost dropping his tray. That put Ephron in a good mood, and he entered the throne room ahead of Adyn with a smile.

There, the children of Trigon were assembled- including Raven, who lay on the floor besides her half-brothers like a freshly slaughtered lamb, a pitiful pile on the ground. Kadaar, Tavor, Adyn, the reasonable and just ones of her brothers knew they could do nothing. To help her would be to sentence them all to excruciating, repetitive pain: there's no extent to the amount you can endure when a dip in a pool can resurrect you stronger than ever.

Their father loomed above them all, on his throne of misery and domination, reverted to his smaller size of three metres, his horns reaching heavenwards and his eyes intent. A handful of advisors- thousand year-old demons in black armour with reminders of battle etched in to their skin as scars- stood at the base of Trigon's throne.

There was a stillness in the room, the only sound being a faint humming from the portal erected in the middle of the throne room. Then they stepped through, the soldiers, and in their arms, an Al Ghul. The granddaughter of the Demon's head, the blood of the noble house of Al Ghul, a harmless adolescent part-human.