The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

There was a way he could pull off his plan to drink from Riha without risking the selkie's life. His plan included a dart and a potent mix of several paralytic agents that could be procured by one of his housemates.

In the end, Salem volunteered to get it for him because he was familiar with the dangerous items on Syryn's list. The blond alchemist had raised a brow at some of the names on the shopping list. With a sharp glance at Syryn, he pocketed the paper and left.

----

"I'm concerned," Salem softly announced later that day. He had been watching his friend mix a batch of some of the most dangerous ingredients they'd brought into their alchemy room. Syryn had been acting strange the past few days, so unlike himself, and it had been a point of worry for the blond alchemist. When he was asked to get the items on a list that Syryn had handed to him, Salem's worries rose. But he followed a policy so 'don't ask don't tell'.

"Salem, my father is a demon," Syryn confessed. It wasn't fair that only Salem remained unaware of this fact. The half-elf was one of the few people Syryn was willing to trust with his life so it made sense that he would trust him with this secret.

"Oh," the blond alchemist replied.

Oh? Where was the shock? The sharp gasp? Syryn was dissatisfied with Salem's lack of emotional distress. It was anti-climatic and frankly very disappointing.

"Thanks for telling me."

"You're welcome."

"Then I'll leave you to your work, Syryn. I have to survey the raw materials I purchased today."

"Don't you have questions?" Syryn raised his head and asked. "Like a normal person when they find out they've been living with a half-demon."

Salem paused midstep. He turned back to Syryn with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Are you going to kill Riha?" There was no accusation in his enquiry.

"No! He's a person and I-" Syryn burned with shame at the hypocrisy of what he was saying, "I am his guardian. I have to protect him even from myself."

Salem nodded. "I trust you."

If the blond alchemist had wanted to upset Syryn, he had succeeded. But the half-demon knew that Salem had meant it and wasn't just saying that to pinch at his conscience.

He was left alone with his poisons and even worse, a demon that was hovering and nipping at Syryn's heels.

---

It was past midnight. Syryn knocked on Riha's door. He hoped the selkie was sleeping. Then he could postpone the inevitable for tomorrow. Anxiety fluttered in his pulse as he thought about what he was about to do.

"Syryn," Riha didn't invite him inside. It was too dangerous to, at least not without gauging the state of mind that he was in. The door afforded no protection if Syryn was intent on getting him, but it was a psychological solace more than anything else.

The alchemist thought back to the words he'd revised in his mind so as not to come off as a jerk demanding blood. "Riha, my demon wants more blood. If I don't feed it, I might lose control.."

A few moments of silence stretched uncomfortably between them before Riha stepped aside and invited him into the room.

It was just as how Syryn had seen it before the selkie had moved in. The only extra decor he found was an oddly endearing collection of seashells on a display shelf. The largest one was the size of Syryn's palm.

"Do you like seashells, Riha?" Syryn asked him. He could get more for the selkie if he wanted some.

"I do. The seashells allow me to listen to the sounds of the ocean. Sometimes they're the only things that seem real to me." Riha pulled out the chair where he often sat while reading books by his window. He offered it to Syryn.

"If you go back to the ocean, how likely is it that you will be caught and killed?" The alchemist asked after seating himself. He was starting to smell the distinctive selkie scent that made his mouth water. The only way he could be scenting it was by his demon enhancing his human biology, like how he crushed the pebble into powder.

"I will very likely remain free for a few months if I stay low. As vast as the oceans are, mermen have eyes and ears everywhere. I can't go back, Syryn. I trade my freedom for my life." Riha sat at the edge of the bed that was closest to Syryn's seat.

"I'm sorry Riha. I can't imagine what it's like to never be able to go home." Syryn thought about what home meant to him. A picture appeared, it was a tower. And he wanted to laugh. Here was Riha, a selkie trapped in his manor and wanting to leave for home. Syryn on the other was free to roam anywhere he liked but he wanted to go home which meant his imprisonment in a tower.

What he missed about it was the freedom of not having to worry about the future. He had his books, his experiments, and the company of a friend. It had been so peaceful and carefree after the years he'd spent killing. Syryn would not enjoy being imprisoned again but he wished he could get back the same peace it had given him back then. It was a rude splash of cold water when he was first captured, but what followed had been eye-opening and life-changing.

"We all have our burdens to bear," Riha replied. They were both prisoners in different ways. Even Syryn had his demon to contend with.

The mage had filled in the spaces and made small talk. He had been polite and sympathetic. So now was the time to open up the uncomfortable conversation he had come for. He took the bull by the horns because Syryn hated beating around the bush.

"Riha, about what I said, you don't have to agree to it if you're afraid of me."

The selkie smiled sadly. "I fear letting myself live on in a dream of my own making, Syryn. Liberate me if only for a few minutes so I can see the world with clarity."