Bierrez ran as hard as he could down the halls, evading the sound of his pursuers. If they caught him, he was dead. If they didn't catch him, they'd be dead. Oh well, sucks for them. Serving in the demon army was less about loyalty to the king and more of an every man for himself free-for-all. He turned sharply up a corner, and... straight into a dead end.
Bierrez swore, standing at the ornate doors in front of him. There was no hope- his pursuers were too close for him to choose another route, and the door before him lead straight into the private quarters of the only man as feared as the Demon King. Bierrez had no desire to go through those doors and try to explain himself to the man they belonged to.
"He came this way!" shouted a voice.
Another answered with laughter. "You head down that way, I'll check this one. We've got him now!"
Bierrez turned his back on the door. He was going to have to fight his way out and pray to a god he didn't believe in that General Shydeman didn't come to see what the noise was about. There were only what... five or ten guys chasing after him? He could take care of that, no problem. Probably. Not like he had much of a choice either way. Bierrez reached for his sword, but his heart jumped into his throat when he heard the door creak behind him.
"Come in," hissed an unfamiliar voice behind the door. "Unless you enjoy having your skin peeled off. It's all the same to me."
Bierrez looked back at the door. The options weren't great, but his options were rapidly getting less and less. Out of the frying pan and into the fire he went. He grabbed the handle of the open door and slipped inside.
The room Bierrez found himself in was massive and well lit, with floor to ceiling bookshelves and a wall of windows taller than he was on the far side. There was no sign of a bed, but the space stretched down and around corners, suggesting even more rooms past what he could see. Typical higher ups- saving all the good rooms for themselves.
"Don't worry," said the voice. Bierrez jumped, finally noticing his savior leaning against a corner that lead to some other portion of the general's quarters. "No one else is in here."
"It's you..." Bierrez said, almost to himself. He recognized this man, he realized, from earlier that very day. It was Shydeman's half-human slave, the one he'd seen being lead around in shackles by the general's right hand man. His clothes from earlier were gone, and in their place he had wrapped himself in a shroud of white sheets. Bierrez wasn't sure how not to stare as he tried to make sense of the bizarre situation he'd found himself in.
"These are Shydeman's private chambers," the slave explained, as thought that was something that needed explaining. Bierrez nodded, glancing back at the door. "No one else is allowed in here, not even the guys who are after you. Shydeman just stepped out, so he won't be back for a while." Shydeman's scarred slave looked out towards the windows, shifting his grip on the sheets he'd wrapped himself in. "You can leave through that window."
"But..." Bierrez let the question trail off, unsure how to address the millions of questions he had. Was this a trap? And if not, why the hell had this man decided to give his mercy. If escape was that easy, why wasn't he running? Bierrez didn't move from his spot by the door.
The slave grinned, however, a ghost of a rebellious spirit glimmering for just a moment in his golden eyes. "I never saw you."
Well, that was one of his questions answered. Bierrez tried another. "What about you?"
The slave shrugged this time, the rebellious look in his eyes closing up shop and moving on. "I don't think about myself. It's easier that way. I'm just their doll, to do with as they will." He looked bitter, gripping his shroud tighter. "Sometimes though, I dream of living free, making my own decisions about things. Is that so wrong?"
Bierrez stared at him, this so called plaything of the demon generals. He was far from the browbeaten toy Bierrez would have expected, and more independent than most of the soldiers he'd worked and fought with. Finally, Bierrez shook his head, grinning some. "No. Nothing wrong with that at all." He patted the slave on the shoulder as he passed him, but he didn't react. Bierrez unlatched the tall window, but paused in the frame to glance back over his shoulder. The slave was still leaned against the pillar by the door, watching him go. "I'm Bierrez. You won't want to let Shydeman know you helped me."
"I'm not a fool. We'd both end up dead that way."
"You got a name?" Bierrez asked.
The slave considered this question for longer than he'd thought about any of the others. Bierrez wondered if he knew the answer.
"Gil," he said finally.
Bierrez nodded. "Alright then Gil. I won't forget this. Maybe I'll help you out with your dream one day."
Gil shrugged, not letting any hope or question enter his eyes. Bierrez found his cynicism refreshing. He turned from the room and leapt out onto the roof, running away from the demon castle and into the night. But he wouldn't forget Gil's kindness. After all, Bierrez owed him his life, and Bierrez was a man who hated feeling indebted to anyone.