Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Thrax]

---

The more time he spent in Umbra, the more at home Anthraxas felt. Ceinwyn had not only taken him into her confidence and care, she had given him someone in whose arms he could find true companionship, and even love as much as he could know it to be. That someone was her.

The emotion at first went undetected; he saw it only as natural desire. But as time went by and they spent more time together, he could see it was more than physical attraction. He considered her his equal, something he could not do with anyone else. "Perhaps then, this is love?" he asked himself. But he was not, at first, entirely sure. He had never known a daemon to love, but then he was not any ordinary one. He was a bizarre combination (he had been called an abomination) of human flesh, personality, memories and intellect with the fullness of a daemon's spirit to animate it, with a personality all its own. Not even he could fathom what he had become, or was, but whatever he was he was learning new things, and one of them was what humans meant by "being in love."

For one thing, he knew he would do anything she asked him to do, without fear, remorse or pity. If she asked him to kill everyone in a particular place, be it hamlet, village, town or city, he would obey unquestioningly. He did not fear death---no daemon ever did. They never flinched in the face of it, for unlike most others, they knew it was merely an exit and a brief sojourn and that they would return once more to a material plane when summoned or by their own manipulations. No, he didn't mind dying for her at all. He would, in fact, destroy the whole world for her.

He was, however, learning about the weaknesses and frailties of human flesh, and he despised them. He found it necessary at times to move briefly out of harm's way to avoid an untimely death and its subsequent inconveniences. Yet that same, weak, flesh brought with it new feelings, emotions, sensations and pleasures that he could not deny nor suppress, even if he had wanted to. Still, even knowing his limitations, he knew he would give his own life many times over to save her from harm.

So as the days passed and as he patrolled the streets and outlying territories of Umbra, he considered his existence a paradox---a mixture of the sublime and the abhorrent, but made tolerable by this thing called love.