Chapter 112 – Proposal

By the time Kairon had made it to the new council chamber, he was thoroughly out of breath. Up the stairs from the new cellar, through several winding passageways, and then up yet another rather grandiose central stairway. One that in his opinion was far longer than it ought to be—especially given that he was still relying on walking with a staff.

One positive? The view.

Striding into the large room, his eyes immediately went to the gorgeous landscape visible outside a row of large slitted windows in the stone. They had to be four or five stories up—probably halfway as tall as the tower itself.

Next his eyes went to the single piece of furniture. Bob was right. There was a large oak table that took up the bulk of the room. No chairs, mind you.

But a table. Their first official piece of real furniture. Kairon might have preferred a desk or a bed, but he’d take it.

Nod cleared his throat. “Ah hem. Master. We been waiting for you.”

“Yes. We have,” said an oddly familiar voice.

That’s when Kairon’s eyes landed on the final addition to the council room. Growing from the table like some kind of ornate flower vase—only much larger—was a golden humanoid body. Only unlike last time, it was not a statue.

It looked far, far more lively. Its features were detailed in a face that nearly mirrored Kairon’s first human friend in this world. One eye was purple, the other gold. A gold that matched the rest of the metallic body of what appeared to be a golemoid type of construct.

Sythara had already rushed ahead, her dark tendrils rubbing up and down Veron. Her pale hands were both feeling at his hair and face, which he was apparently fine with. For now, at least.

Even as Veron spoke, his lips moved. They weren’t quite human, but they still opened and closed like one. Mostly. “Hello, Kairon.”

“Veron? You’re.. You’re back?” Kairon’s mind was wheeling. How did this happen? Was it good? Of course it was good. He liked Veron and wanted a way to save him.

Was he really saved? Judging by the construct, he was some sort of creation that had become part of his room. Part of his new council table, actually.

“I am.” Veron’s voice was deeper. It still matched that woodsman he met some weeks ago, but it had a decidedly archaic tint to it. One that spoke of what he’d become.

A lot of emotions were tumbling around his head right now, and each wanted to be the one that swam to the surface first.

Despite his enormous length of time in positions at The Bureau in jobs that saw death on galactic scales, Kairon found himself a bit out of sorts. He hadn’t expected to be so emotionally moved by a human he’d only known for perhaps a month.

A human.

Those two words echoed in his demonic brain.

A human.

Kairon set his walking staff down against the wall, before hobbling up to the table and placing his claws atop its wooden surface. “Leave us. All of you.”

Sythara huffed. “Child, I just—”

“No. Leave. I will send for you all after we finish. Take this time to explore the new tower. Shiny. See to it that the imps return to work and come back to join us. But for now, I need the room.”

Shiny, Vorathrex, Bean, Nod, and the others glanced at each other in concern, before turning back to Kairon. It looked as if they wanted to say something, but the dour expression on his face made it clear it would do no good right now.

Vorathrex gave Kairon a gentle squeeze of the shoulder before departing. The rest followed suit. Sythara was the last to go, her prismatic eyes the only ones that lingered not on Kairon, but Veron.

When they’d finally all left, Kairon took a deep breath and began to collect himself.

“Where to start, where to start. Oh, Veron. How are you?”

“How… Am I?” asked Veron, as if tasting the words. Both of his arms flexed, before stretching out and feeling the wooden table around him.

Curiously, Kairon shot his eyes below the table. Yet, there was just wood fused with tendrils of gold and purple. It was unclear whether that meant Veron was part of the actual furniture, or something more.

“I don’t know, Kairon. I really don’t know.”

He paused, before looking at the demon. “Do you know what happened to me?”

“Ah. Somewhat. There was an… incident. One that should never have occurred, Veron. Not to you.” Kairon considered for a moment. He contemplated lying, or spinning this off. That would be the go-to move in a scenario like this.

However, Veron was the one human he’d called a friend since coming here. The one human he might still be able to do so with. And for that, he would need honesty.

“Veron. I was not the one that did this to you—not directly. But one of my underlings did. I punished them, in a sort of way. I restricted them from doing something like this ever again. However, my lack of foresight allowed this to occur. It was a valuable lesson—one that I’m afraid cost my human friend a terrible, terrible price.”

“A price.” Veron’s two eyes blazed with light. “Did you know that I could see? That after your wicked demoness did her experiment, I could see. Not all the time. But I would wake, paralyzed, unable to move. I could see, and I could hear, and I could think.”

Kairon’s shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “Truthfully? It isn’t something we considered. With the measurements Sythara took, and your outward appearance, we assumed you were in some sort of stasis. My city readout showed you as a population member, so we knew you weren’t dead, but no matter what we tried nothing seemed to change your condition.”

“I watched, you know. I watched as you tricked Hector of Valdren. I watched as you schemed and plotted with your underlings. I watched as you made deals and a partnership with Sythara, the very demoness who is responsible for my current situation. I watched it all, Kairon.”

“I see. I… Veron. I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I truly am. I know saying that does nothing, but I do mean it. Genuinely. I hope you see that. And I promise you this. If there is anything in my power that can reverse your state and return your body, or even a semblance of it, I will enact it.”

“Do you remember what I told you? Of my dreams? Of what I wanted? To trade, Kairon. To trade. To go from people to people, and to trade.”

“I do. And I understand the current predicament, and what it means for your dream—or at least outwardly.”

For the first time, the simmering blaze sitting behind Veron’s face turned from a smolder of rage to a blazing inferno. His golden jaw tightened, before flexing and opening in a roar. “I’m stuck! Dammit, Kairon, I’m stuck to this fucking table! And you call this a predicament?! It’s a price that no trader would ever pay! Should never!”

Slamming both fists down hard enough to make the great oaken surface shake and quiver tenuously, he stared at Kairon in anger. “I wanted to connect exiles to demons to men. Men, Kairon. Men. Do you see that in this equation, there are no men.”

Breath rasping, the golem form shuddered. “Just demons, Kairon,” he said, softer this time. “Just demons.”

When dealing with an angry client, interjecting was the worst thing you could do. You needed to let them vent, and listen.

That was even more true with a friend.

So Kairon listened. Listened as Veron detailed his experience in more detail this time. From Sythara’s last words, to the feeling of having his body overrun by corruption and power, to the foggy dream state he’d been in and out of for the last weeks.

Halfway through, the demon climbed upon the table and sat with Veron. Like he was back in The Bureau’s training school, he crossed his black scaled demonic legs and tucked in his cape. Then, back set against Veron, he sat and listened.

At times he patted the golem on the back, at others he backed away a few inches and let him have space.

By the time Veron had finished, Kairon had a new perspective. He’d been so worried about so many things since coming to this world, that he’d really forgotten what it was to be human.

The thing was, Kairon didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to be a human again, nor did he want to entirely think like one.

Being a demon had opened so many new doors and given him access to so many new tasty systems to exploit. It’d brought him Shiny, Bean, Sythara, Vorathrex, Boney, and the rest of the imps.

It’d brought him a city.

Yet, the loss of perspective was a weakness. If he wanted to make friends with the clans and defeat The Solari, this was yet one more lesson he needed to learn.

And truthfully, Kairon did selfishly want his friend back.

When he felt it was time, he spoke again. “Veron. My promise remains true. I will do anything in my power to help you achieve your dreams. Long term, I don’t know what that looks like. I’m learning the powers of the demonic, and the secrets they unlock. But short term… I may have a proposal.” Kairon had chosen that last word very carefully.

He was delighted that Veron didn’t burst out in rage, nor did he refuse his words. Instead, the golem turned, staring at him. Just inches away, his golden features scrunched. “Proposals are for traders, Kairon.”

“That they are. You know, I won’t lie to you. Life without a human body, for someone that’s lived in one, seems entirely limiting. But what if I could offer you something that a normal body can never have, Veron. Something that would allow you to achieve your dream, and do so in a way that no human ever could?”

A soft light once again began to light behind Veron’s eyes. This time, however, it was not of rage but of hope. However, a second, far more suspicious emotion mingled with it. He was skeptical, and Kairon knew it.

One conversation couldn’t heal something like this. Only action and time could. The latter he could do nothing to speed up. But the former, he could begin with now.

“Our city has a council of sorts. For various reasons, you seem to have shall we call it… a mandatory seat at the table. So why don’t we formalize it? I could make you our provisional councilor of trade. Of course, there will be some oversight from myself—especially early on—and some onboarding nuances that Nod can walk you through.”

“Nod?” asked Veron.

Kairon waved a claw. “Our Demonic Resources manager. I’ll explain later. Anyway, as our councilor of trade, you would be responsible for overseeing and advising on all deals and agreements involving material and coin. You would work personally with me on matters of trade, be it with imps, demon, human, or…” he paused, gesturing at Veron, “golem.”

The city lord liked Veron, and inherently wanted to trust him. He might even have to, based on how deep his new form went into his very domain. That didn’t mean he was going to be blind to him like he had been with Sythara, however. Precautions would be taken, friend or no.

Especially when this friend had more than ample reason to perhaps be hiding animosity towards his demons. Veron didn’t even know about Operation Shakeout for that matter. Something he’d need to make him aware of shortly.

“But how would that even work?” That light of hope continued to bloom in Veron. Kairon just needed to foster it.

“Well. We need to find out just how connected you are to my domain, but if it’s how I think, I may be able to teach you to partially interface with it. Where our domain stretches, you’ll be able to trade. Getting to that point might take some doing, but we can supplement it with daily meetings and reports from myself, Nod, or someone else on our staff. Picture it, Veron. You will be largely responsible for brokering trade deals with me, the clans, and maybe even Valdren and demonic factions if events allow.”

“That… That does have an appeal to it. It beats just sitting here at this table.”

“I think it does more than that. I won’t say trust me—that will take earning back with you—but give me, no, give us a chance to show you there really is an opportunity here to achieve your dream yet.”

Veron just stared at him, unspeaking.

After a minute of silence, Kairon poked him. Just a bit. “So? What do you say? Should we draft up the proposal?”

“This proposal. Is it like this… pact I was assigned?” asked Veron.

That threw Kairon off. “What? You were assigned a pact?” On instinct, he reached out. To his surprise, he found there was indeed a pact. “I… When did this happen?”

“Right when I awoke. I got some sort of notification saying I had a pact assigned with a demonic city lord. That would be you, obviously.”

“It must have been during the ring expansion… I was so preoccupied with the Infernal Industrializer that I didn’t even notice a pact… Wait. The notification specifically referred to me as a demonic city lord?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain?” asked Kairon. That made no sense to him. The Plane clearly always referred to him as a demonic city warden. But now to say he was a city lord?

“There’s a lot I’m not certain about since waking up, Kairon. But I wouldn’t forget those words. They were the first real ones I saw since waking.”

Flicking his claw, he summoned a fresh glowing, sapphire parchment. Like Boney and Bean, it was but a single page.

“Kairon? What is a pact?” asked Veron.

“It is what we demons use for bargains. A power—in our case known as The Plane—sits as a sort of arbitrator and enforcer. That latter job’s a bit murky sometimes but suffice it to say these pacts are what you could think of as a compulsory blood contract with some serious strings attached.”

The more he spoke, the more Veron seemed to get worried. “Kairon. That sounds quite concerning. Is it… Is it done? This pact? I sensed it when I came awake. I assume that means this… This pact is in play?”

Pursing his lips, Kairon nodded. “It is.” He flicked the single page over, reading the back. And there it was.

Right there, at the very bottom.

It referred to him as a demonic city lord. But that was in direct contradiction to what his interface and all his other pacts called him.

Kairon pondered that, and it didn’t take him long to come to a very tasty conclusion.

The Plane had made a mistake in its paperwork. One that might come back to bite it one day, when faced with a ruthless clerk like him.

His plotting was cut off by Veron’s next sentence. “So not only am I stuck in a golem body fused to this table, but now I have some sort of blood pact made without my input that requires my undying agreement?”

“Technically it sort of already had the undying agreement part. But minus the blood, the rest is correct. But.” Kairon stopped reading, glancing up at Veron. “Not to worry, my friend. I dare say you’re sitting across from the best damn contract demon this realm’s ever seen. We’ll get this straightened up shortly.” Clicking his tongue as he read the final lines, he shook his head. “Well—mostly shortly. We’re really going to need to make some amendments to this.”

Despite everything, a flicker of what Kairon swore was trust seemed to cross Veron’s eyes.