moonshadows

The whip-thin woman strides right up to the dais and bows crisply to the man sitting on the stone chair that falls just short of being a throne. She does not exactly ignore the girl in the red-and-black uniform who stands just to the right of the thronelike chair, but neither does she spare more than a flicker of attention. Whether or not the girl is a threat depends entirely on the whim of her master.

"You wished to see me, Warlord Raphael."

A gesture, and the guards file silently out. He waits until the doors have shut, leaving them in silence. "Minister of War Agnes. You have served me with remarkable intelligence and loyalty these past three years." A brief, dry smile. "You almost single-handedly restored my belief in competent lieutenants. I'm sure you have noticed that I have been giving you more power, more responsibility."

"Hard to miss it, my Lord," she deadpans.

"Then it will come as no surprise that I wish you to appoint a successor and take your place as Prime Minister."

"You're leaving." She is, indeed, not surprised.

"I am. While I do not intend to return, I do still feel some fondness for this world. and I would like to leave it in good hands."

"Is this where you finally tell me you're not Raphael?"

His eyebrows go up. "How did you...?"

The lack of reflexive rage encourages her. "Six months before Raphael made his fatal mistake, his pet general was killed in a firefight. I was second in command at that time. Raphael flat out refused to promote me because I was a woman, so I hired myself out to his nearest rival. When you crushed Carlos and killed your generals, I presented myself as a replacement. You looked like Raphael, but you didn't recognize me, and you made me your head general. He never would have done that." She shrugs. "Whoever or whatever you are, I figured you were a better person to serve than he was, and kept quiet out of the same respect you gave me."

Silence.

He chuckles after a minute, shaking his head. "Amazing. I wish I had something more to give you as a reward for that, but I'm already giving you the entire world."

"There is something you could give me, my Lord."

"Name it."

"Let me see who I've been conquering the world for. Let me know the true name of my Lord."

"Very well."

He stands and closes his eyes. The immaculate suit, the bronze skin and dark hair all fade out and are replaced with black pants covered in runes of gold, a broad purple chest swirling with green tattoos that glow faintly, flowing black hair parted by long, tapering ears. Talons grace his fingers. Hooves click against the floor. Enormous batwings flare and are folded. A strip of black cloth that bears the same gold runes covers his eyes, but dim green spots glowing behind the cloth hint that he is in no way impaired. The polished black horns that curl up out of his temples gleam softly in the light. To his right, the girl known as the Warlord's tame demon also drops her disguise. Agnes remembers her appearance from the ill-fated poisoning attempt. Although the girl wears no blindfold over her glowing green eyes and has no tattoos, she is clearly a female of whatever race her master is. Unlike him, however, her outfit does not change; it must have been tailored with wings in mind. The minister has never doubted the relationship that was presented to the world, but now she wonders if they really are 'master' and 'bound servant' or if something more is going on.

She decides she doesn't really need or want to know.

"My true name is Illidan Stormrage." The growl is no different than the one she's always heard him use, but somehow it drives home the reality of the situation.

"No wonder you disliked being called by name. By your fake name, rather." She squints at him. "Joshua knows, doesn't he."

The female demon grins. "Uncle Josh has known about me since I first came here. He figured things out pretty quick."

Agnes nods. "If you'd be so kind as to let him know that I know, my Lord?"

"Of course. Now-" a blink, and both demons resume human and human-ish forms. "You will have one week in which to name and prepare your successor. I will hand my power formally to you on Year's End, and let this world begin the year with a new ruler."

"If I may ask...where will you go?"

"Home." The wistful expression is startling against the memory of horns and glowing eyes. "I'm going home."