The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Ryn.....

Ryn.....

He could hear his name being called.

"Syryn!"

The mage's eyes flew wide open and he looked around like he was struggling to understand where he was.

"Syryn," it was Rowan calling him. "Speak to me. Did you have a nightmare?" The blond's worried face hovered over his in the darkness.

"Whistling. The damn whistling in my dream."

Syryn sat up on the bed and tried to recall what he had dreamt of.

"It followed you to your dreams?" Rowan asked.

Did it? Or was it just a product of his sub-conscience doing its thing as a reaction to what he had experienced?

"I'm okay. It was just a bad dream."

"You were calling my name," Rowan told him gently. "Did someone try to hurt you in the dream?"

Syryn furrowed his brows as he recalled the dream. "No, I was alone on a boat at sea. Lost too, I think. And I couldn't stop the whistling. I felt surrounded and trapped by it. It's a good thing you woke me up, Ro."

Rowan brushed back the hair falling across Syryn's cheek. 'It was just a dream, Ryn. You're okay and I'm here with you." 

Neither could make sense of Syryn's dream. In the end, Syryn fell asleep in Rowan's embrace with his back against the anti mage's chest. This time, he had a dreamless sleep.

-----

A few days passed in relative peace. Syryn wore his sapphire ring but wasn't feeling the effects of any good luck, nor the price he was paying for it.

"You got scammed," Red declared.

"Rowan's money. I don't care." Syryn's eyes tracked Riha across the garden. The selkie was taking a break from his reading and getting some exercising done. He still wanted to drink selkie blood but he kept tight control on the hunger. The time for a loss of control was coming again. Syryn could feel it. "And why aren't you attending classes today?"

Red sighed. "There's only so much boredom I can take. Let's go on another adventure, Syryn."

"We just came back from one."

"Take me with you to the fire temple."

"I'm not going," Syryn replied while taking a peek at the skin on his arm where a mark was previously burnt. Over time, the flame tattoo had gotten absorbed into his skin and it could no longer be seen. He wondered what that was about. Lately, Syryn felt like he was attracting all kinds of attention he didn't need.

"Oh, by the way, this came for you." Red retrieved an envelope from his pocket. "It's what I came to give you but forgot about."

It had to be from Artemus. No one else communicated with him through letters. Syryn cut open the envelope and slid out a small note. It was written in the cypher he had taught the anti mage. Syryn was so familiar with the code that he deciphered the message mentally even as he read it.

The mage set fire to the letter, an instruction that Artemus had impressed upon him for every letter they exchanged. He decided he could take some time off in the evening and visit Qairu. But for that, he needed to know where the priest conducted business. What did he even do these days? Syryn wondered.

"Red, do you know where Qairu lives?" Asking Alka was the last option he would resort to.

"How am I supposed to know?"

And that exhausted Syryn's short list of people he could enquire about Qairu's whereabouts.

"Why don't you ask Navi?" The redhead suggested.

"And why would Navi know where Qairu lives?"

"Why would I know either? You still asked me, didn't you? Might as well question the cat."

What did he have to lose? Syryn found the orange tabby sleeping on the roof of the manor.

"Oye, Navi!" He yelled from below.

A fat orange face appeared. The cat blinked down at Syryn lazily.

"Take me to Qairu's house."

-----

Navi did in fact know where Qairu lived. He had to ask Alka why the cat was privy to his ex's location of residence.

Syryn, Lucien, and a yawning Navi at their feet, stood at the wrought iron gates of a red brick home.

"Call out his name," Syryn instructed Red.

"Why me? You do it."

"He likes you, doesn't he?"

"He likes Luci."

"Then have Luci call him out."

While they bickered about who was to summon Qairu, the priest stood behind them, having arrived from the Elysium Mill.

"Syryn and Lucien. What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Qairu," Syryn turned to the priest. The same ash coloured hair was now shorter than the shoulder-length style he had favoured when they first met. It was parted to the side and cut in a neat short style. From his pretty hair to the purple eyes and black jewel, everything about his unique colouring attracted attention.

"Syryn."

The alchemist took a step forward and leaned in to whisper in the priest's ear.

"I know you're quite the expert on matters of the undead. Let's talk about it, Qairu."

A priest dabbling in necromancy wasn't unheard of because it was a part of their job to familiarise themselves with the dark magic that was used to raise the dead. However, Qairu was a special priest who took his studies further and further till he became a seasoned necromancer. No priest in history had ever dared to do what he did. It was blasphemy.

At hearing Syryn's threat, a strange light dawned in the priest's eyes but he remained unconcerned. "Stay for a while since you've come all this way to my home." The priest pushed open the iron gate and waited for his guests to enter.

Qairu led them to the rear side of the house, bypassing the entrance, and going through the back door.

"The front door is compromised and I'm in no mood to unbind the curse on it so we're resorting to the back door," Qairu said to them with a wry smile.

"Who cursed your door?" Syryn asked.

"Now that's a tough question to answer. It is probable that I've been cursed by a great number of people who may or may not include my ex-fiance's family."