The White Horseman

With the civil war over, the four generals who’d supported Lucifer’s claim to the throne returned to their respective territories. They’d done well in supplanting the archdemon Satan from power and quelling all of his major supporters. With the last of the generals and barons who were integral in the support structure Satan had built either dead or exiled, Lucifer could manage keeping his power consolidated in the capital while his dubbed four horsemen went right into protecting what was left of the kingdom.

For the White General, that trip was far easier than the others. Just outside of Armathain, to the north of the capital city, was Bellbour Swamp and the Wyn Mountains stretching westward from there for over two hundred miles. This was Loimós’ area of responsibility and the clannish demons that lived there worshiped him as one of their own.

Slyborn Fortress came into view as Loimόs’ white nightmare exited the forest surrounding the road north from the capital. Behind him, his contingent of guards followed close on their torkons. The hardy beasts stayed stride for stride with the much taller horse-like mount.

They’d been traveling for some time after leaving Armathain, hitting the three towns in-between the capital and Loimόs’ main fortress to ensure implementation of newly formed trade agreements between the natives of Bellbour Swamp and those demons they saw as intruders into their lands were occurring without incident.

At each of the three villages in order from south to north, Erusha, Agrallil, and Kezronnen, Loimόs was pleased enough with the progress of the peace he’d arranged between the spore demons of the swamps and the demons, mostly vex, who ran the villages and logging operations which were now loyal to their new king, Lucifer. Keeping the peace would be a forever struggle, but for now it was holding.

The independent tribes of Bellbour Swamp had on occasion formed peace treaties when Satan was the king. They eventually fell through, each and every time. Now with Lucifer as king, even though he was using the mantle of the new Satan, Hell wide, his hope was that his relationship with the spore demons would fare far better. So far, so good, but Lucifer had not been king long.

Putting those thoughts aside as he entered the shadow of the fortress, which was supposed to be his base of operations, he contemplated his next actions. He would not be staying in Slyborn, that much he knew. The newly won kingdom was in peril on all fronts. His attention was needed far from the safety of Slyborn. He needed to venture further into the Wyn Mountains, where the devotion of the general in charge of this portion of the kingdom was required most.

Entering Slyborn, the welcome he received was somewhat lost to him, as it had been ever since he’d taken the fortress. Emotions of any kind were largely dulled in his species. Pishacha demons had been naturally evolving towards their less caring spiritual form for centuries, thus emotional responses were rare. Regardless, he knew to feign appreciation for the sentiment the guards and citizens greeted him with, even if he couldn’t feel it very much in his essence.

After his arrival into Slyborn Fortress, where he was greeted as a hero by his loyal vex soldiers alongside spore demons who’d been given residences within the confines of the fortress, he moved swiftly to the throne room. Awaiting his arrival was six of his pishacha demon witches. His most competent witch, and for all intent and purpose his second in command, stood before the throne which was now his after the successful coup against the former Satan.

Omniel, nearly as tall as his seven-foot height, bowed in reverence as he neared then stepped to her right, offering a clear path to the throne which now belonged to the first general Lucifer had enlisted into his war against Satan.

Back when Loimόs had first met Lucifer and gambled on him becoming an important ally against those that served the former king, he never would have imagined he’d come so far in so short a time. He certainly wouldn’t have imagined he’d have helped Lucifer take over the entire kingdom nor would he of imagined him being in his present station. Yet, here he was, a general, which meant he was one of the highest-ranking members recognized within any kingdom in Hell.

Generals are revered in Hell, sometimes more so than the kings they serve. The weight of his station was even felt by his dull faculties. There was so much to do and precious little time to act if he was to remain in power.

First things first, he accepted his reception and the feast prepared. He imagined Omniel had as much trouble setting up a festive gathering as he would have. Pishacha demons don’t require such niceties and don’t eat much physical food or drink. They preferred to dine on the spiritual energy that all living things possess inside themselves. However, sucking down some slave’s spirit for sustenance might seem unsavory to their more physically bound guests so they’d have to stick to the menu served.

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The uncomfortable feast over, guests being escorted from the throne room, Loimόs remained at the head of his long banquet table with Omniel sitting in the seat to his right.

Once alone, he started, “There is much we need to accomplish, my dear.”

Dear?He thought of how Lucifer’s influence on him had him acting different than he had in the past. Such terms of endearment were not necessary, but he found himself saying such things without much thought to it beforehand. However strange it hit him afterwards, Omniel did not shy away from the word.

Her revered lord for more than a century and head of their covenant, had her attention fully. She was enamored with him, of course. Not romantically, for such things pishacha demons didn’t covet. Their greatest joys were those of achievements, favor, and power. To her knowledge, their covenant, consisting entirely of pishacha demons, was the greatest in all of Hell and it was all thanks to him finding and recruiting the twelve females that made up his subordinates.

For their species, Loimόs was a striking specimen. Tall and strong beyond just physical vigor, with a naturally formed bone-like crown jutting up around his bald scalp. Yet, that meant little. His cunning mind was the real attractant.

She responded, “I am yours to command, my Lord.”

“Indeed. You have done well running the fortress in my absence. To that end, I name you Baroness of Slyborn Fortress. You will command the lands from the Screaming Gate all the way south to the capital.”

“Lord?” She questioned. “I…”

He silenced her with a raise of his palm. “My responsibilities to the kingdom require me to venture back into the Wyn Mountains. Slyborn is too far removed. I would leave my most competent and faithful witch in command, here.”

“Surely this will be frowned upon?”

Loimόs raised a brow to that question but knew where she was coming from. “You mean because you are female?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“I have autonomy in my territory to do as I see fit. But I have conferred with the King on this matter. He agrees with my decision. And to that end, you know he assigned a baroness at Lex Fortress. You would not be the first in our kingdom.”

“I am still wary, Lord.”

Loimόs could understand her hesitation. When Satan ruled this kingdom, not a single female sat in such a position of power. Nor were there many throughout all of Hell. He’d only heard rumors of a couple in distant kingdoms.

He explained his reasoning, “Your leadership is needed. You have done well keeping relations with the spore demon clans. Those ties must not wane. We must also look to our future. By that I mean our species. I intend to leave you the other five in our covenant that are here. So that we may have room for more members.”

That last statement struck Omniel. “You mean to break our covenant in half?”

“I do.” He confirmed. “With you the head of a covenant here. That way you can recruit more members.”

Omniel understood. Covenants of witches are at max, thirteen members strong. He was their covenant leader while she and the other eleven females were his disciples. Once a covenant is full, it is common for those who practice the craft in this way to split apart so that more witches can be added, thus strengthening them in number over time as the now two covenants recruit.

He continued, “With you leading one covenant from here, I will offer the other to Alici.She will command and recruit from Craentich Temple.”

“You will name her baroness as well?”

“No.” Loimόs almost found himself scoffing. “Alici is powerful beyond the other witches already at Craentich Temple. For that reason alone, she can be their leader, their Mistress. But she hasn’t your quality and thus will not be named a baroness. That title is your honor alone.”

“You mean to not lead that covenant either?” She surmised, avoiding his praise of her over Alici, who’d she often thought of as a rival for his attentions.

He explained, “For us to have a successful future, we must expand. Our covenant was fortunate in the civil war not to have had a single casualty but still, our numbers are few.”

“Precisely. How do I and Alici expand the numbers within our covens?”

“We must look beyond our own species.”

Omniel was beyond dubious of such a thing.

Her expression blank, as all pishacha’s are, he nevertheless knew she was not pleased. “We must not hold onto our prejudices. That very thing is what aided in the fall of Satan’s kingdom. I believe we must follow our King’s example in this. He has shown great strides in diversifying this kingdom, in a very short amount of time.”

“Surely too much at once could spell our doom.”

“Enough.” He demanded, almost to the point of raising his voice. “I may be relinquishing control of the now two covenants, to you and Alici, but I am still your General.”

The two sat silent for a few moments, contemplating one another. Finally, she broke the silence. “I will do as commanded, my Lord.But I would ask your advice.”

“Yes.”

“I will expand as you wish, though I prefer finding more of our kind. We are so few. Surely finding more of us will make us stronger, beyond recruiting from other species.”

He couldn’t deny her logic and already had a plan for such a thing. “You are right, of course. I plan to return, on some level, to the depths beneath the Wyn Mountains. We know there are more of our kind imprisoned there.”

“My Lord…”

He cut her worry and her words short, this time by clasping her left hand. Her attention fixed, he affirmed one last notion, “We will also couple.”

The idea of having sex with him gave her a sense of enjoyment, not often felt. Coupling was rare for their species. In all the time she’d known Loimόs, she’d never known him to take a female into his bed. Apparently he was truly serious about expanding their numbers, even if he had to start fathering children.

Her silence confused him for a second. “Does this not please you?”

“On the contrary.” She said as she stood and reversed the hold he had on her hand.

She then guided him towards the master chambers, which she had fully intended to give up to the general. Now it seems, those quarters would be hers, as baroness. What better way to christen her chambers than bedding her lord? The prospect of connecting with his body and essence along with the possibility of bearing his child gave her a feeling of pleasure she never would have expected.