This follow up to The Rose And The Thorne is a gift for Deadly Sins Writer, taking some of the characters from the epic 'New Darkness: Future To The Past' - please read it if you haven't already. Thanks so much DSW for letting me write this, for your comments on an earlier draft which were invaluable and, most of all, for your support and encouragement since I started writing. Your feedback and ideas have meant a lot to me. I hope this effort shows you just how grateful I am and does justice to your characters.
Chapter 1: The Succession Conundrum
The sun hung majestically low in the sky, its light spreading over the vast expanse of the horizon, igniting the few wisps of cloud with a burnished gold haze. Zeldris stared longingly at the sight from the window, taking in the beauty of the demon realm as it stretched out before him. The years of peace had been kind to it. The grass had crept over the furrows formerly pressed into the ground by soldiers' armour-clad feet and the lush forests had gradually grown back after so many trees had been felled to feed the fires of the smithies. His land looked appealing, perfect, well worth all the diplomatic effort he and his advisors expended to keep his people from war, though they did not always thank him for these pains. The demons still liked a bit of ruthlessness in their leader, and he occasionally had to flash out his powers to keep them in their place.
And desirable as it was the peace did not always come easily. Sighing, Zeldris felt the pressure of heavy fog clouding his brain and a dull ache pushing through his slight limbs. He stretched out awkwardly on the throne, trying to refresh his senses without overtly relinquishing his air of authority. The day had been much more troubling than usual and he was desperate for some privacy and the luxury of sleep.
The meeting of the six clans had been particularly tense as they had discussed who should take over from Gloxinia now his life was sadly drawing to its close. Never mind that the fairy king they all admired was not yet dead, may not be for months in fact, and that it was a sick joke the item was on the agenda at all. Everyone had felt discomfort at his absence. Gloxinia was always such a calming influence, his wisdom so often carrying the day. Whoever succeeded him would find him a tough act to follow.
Among the delegates, there was a strong body of opinion that Asher should have the honours. The son of Gerheade and Rou had after all been selected by the Sacred Tree and, although inexperienced, the young man had a considerable power of his own as well as his late father's easy manner. Nonetheless, his claim had been hotly disputed by a number of the fairy and human delegates. Even after all this time, the idea of a crown passing to what they called a hybrid was still distasteful to many. The blatant prejudice which was given free reign during the course of the debate had been more than trying on the nerves, and both he and Meliodas had been forced to leave the room for spells to keep their tempers in check. In the heat of the argument, furious red faces spitting across the circular chamber, the room seemed to have forgotten that their children were mixed heritage too. The racism which ran through the discussion was not just upsetting it was absolutely abhorrent and the vile remarks had made Zeldris question how welcome his children would feel when they eventually took his place.
Still, it was all over now. Elizabeth had, as always, prevailed and Zeldris had felt the depth of his gratitude to his sister-in-law and her nerves of steel. Asher would take on the protection of the fairy king's forest in due course, with the goddess clan providing assurances of military aid in the event of any uprisings which might threaten his realm. Zeldris had readily agreed to this, committing the demon army to the same course, swiftly and effectively silencing the dissenters. But this was no cause for celebration. It was the first time the threat of violence had been used to force a decision among the clans for an extremely long time and the need for this tactic did not bode well for the future. Asher was the first of the new generation to be in this position.
Zeldris looked out of the window once more and sighed with relief. The sun was low enough in the sky now that he could risk leaving the throne room and heading for bed. He was just on the point of rising when three figures walked in, the announcer calling their names as was the custom. Zeldris smiled, finding no resentment from the need to postpone his plans. It was not often his children came to see him all at once now they were fully grown.
Karat walked ahead, supreme confidence apparent in his purposeful stride, with Irlana and Zane following slightly behind, the latter having to hustle a bit to keep up with his longer-legged siblings. Zeldris smiled. He remembered having to do the same whenever he had followed Estarossa about.
"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Zeldris asked, relaxing as the three of them approached the dais, until he saw their faces that is. Their jaws were set, their eyes hard and the rigidity of their postures showed they were clearly there for business, not pleasure.
"It's about the succession," Karat blurted out, forgoing the preamble of polite conversation. He always had been refreshingly direct. "Which of us gets your crown when you die?"
"What my brother means, father," Irlana said smoothly, her elbow catching Karat sharply in his side, "is that it would be helpful for us to know your intentions on this matter. Obviously it is a long time until such a decision is required, but we would be obliged if you could let us know your initial thoughts.
"Queen Ren has asked if I would take on the honour of training to be her heir," Irlana explained. "I am happy to rise to the occasion and take on the leadership of Edinburgh, but if you have plans for me here I will of course follow your wishes."
Zeldris forced himself to look at the three of them with nothing but stoic blankness in his expression. Inside he was seething with resentment and he fought the urge to unleash his power to try to make himself feel better. Did Ren always have to be such a pain? Why had she not given him a warning earlier in the day about her irritating plans?
He had wanted to delay this discussion for as long as he could. He had very deliberately chosen to treat all his children equally and he was so cross that his hand was being forced like this. Naming an heir would upset the balance he had worked so hard for since the children were born. He had made sure that each of them received the same privileges and opportunities and the same amount of love from both of their parents. And he had been sure to tell them that they all meant the same to him, day after day, until it had become a familiar mantra. The last thing he had wanted was for any of them to feel like they were second or even third best, the way he and Estarossa had been made to feel for most of their childhoods.
And then of course this was no easy decision.
In many ways Karat was the obvious choice. He was the eldest and his power level was far superior to the others, and indeed to his own. Karat was fierce and effective, a ruthless warrior who would achieve perfect victory at any and all costs. But he was also a liability. He had no social graces and put people's backs up easily, violence always the first solution he tried to resolve any issues. His power, Leviathan, would suck away the energy of others which stemmed from sin or impurity. This was, of course, a formidable weapon, but this ability came at a significant cost. The poor boy suffered greatly when using this magic. Indeed, his spirit was at risk of irreversible damage unless he was extremely careful. In many ways, it would be best for Karat to be kept away from the stresses of rule however popular he would be with his demon subjects.
Irlana's claim to the throne also had merit, and Zeldris could see why she had been Ren's first choice. Izraf's granddaughter was composed and resourceful, keeping a cool head on her shoulders despite her significant power. A strong streak of mercy always guided her actions, a helpful quality in these times of peace. But she was perhaps too soft on occasion. Irlana would only fight physically when absolutely necessary, and this had put her in harm's way with her demon contemporaries a number of times. She would try to talk an opponent round before defending herself, and she had the scars to prove it. It would be difficult for her to gain full acceptance from the demon clan, and Zeldris was unsure that she had the brutality needed to put down the inevitable challengers to the monarch's authority.
And then there was Zane. Although Zeldris loved all of them equally he had a special place in his hearts for the youngest of his children. Gelda had found it so hard to conceive after Irlana was born. They had tried for decades, even going so far as to ask Elizabeth if her healing powers could help so that they could complete their family, but it was to no avail. After many failed attempts he and Gelda had just given up, deciding to enjoy the benefits of having older children, reminding themselves of the perilous lack of sleep and privacy that came with newborn babies. But then it had happened. Gelda had got pregnant and neither of them had ever felt such happiness. And Zane was so placid, the perfect obedient son. From the day he was born he had been blissfully easy to care for, a loving little thing who wore his hearts on his sleeve. He had even obliged them by sleeping soundly through the night from an early age.
And despite his calm demeanour Zane was no pushover. His stubbornness, his shear refusal to give way or back down meant he often triumphed over his more demanding siblings. He was also a master manipulator, Zeldris considered, remembering how toddler Zane would sit on his lap, hugging him close with his pudgy arms before casually asking for what he wanted, the deception quite expertly done. But he was by some distance the weakest of the three in terms power and was continually struggling with his emotions as he tried and failed to win Emala's affection. Zeldris sighed inwardly. Everyone except Zane could see that Derieri and Monspeet's daughter had eyes only for Tristan, but Zane was nothing if not persistent and he kept trying to win her over despite the continued rejection.
Zeldris thought about Tristan. Being honest his nephew should also be considered a potential contender for the throne. Meliodas' eldest son was so powerful as to be completely unassailable and he had shown himself to be a brilliant leader. Even the most racist of the demons would bow down before him with unbridled enthusiasm whatever his heritage. But Zeldris dismissed this idea. The young man was too frightening, too powerful. Even Meliodas was nervous that Tristan might struggle to control the vast magic he was able to call on. It would be best if he remained aloof, not taking on the leadership of any clan and so maintain the balance of power in Britannia. And if he was out of the running then so were his five brothers and sisters, two of whom in any case were too young for the throne.
"This is not a decision to be taken lightly," Zeldris cautioned as these conflicting thoughts whirled through his brain. "Come back in the morning. I will have an answer for you then."
They stared at him. Two pairs of flashing black eyes and one of fiery blue, their gazes so intense that they threatened to hypnotise him. He held his ground. No matter how much he loved them he was the demon king and he would not show them weakness. Finally, after many minutes, they averted their eyes, Karat the last to give way.
"Come on guys, let's go. Can't you see he wants to ask mum about it?" Zane whispered, his eyes, so like Gelda's, widening in surprise as his hushed tones were picked up by a quirk of the acoustics to echo all round the room. Zeldris suppressed his smile as a look of understanding passed among his children and they took their leave, walking quickly back the way they had come. Zane was right of course, and Zeldris was pleased that he had shown himself to be so perceptive.
It was well and truly night now and Zeldris felt no guilt about heading up to his chambers. His hearts stuttered with relief as he saw the flickering light spilling out underneath the crack of the door. The room was prepared, and even though the idea of sleep was now impossible the fact that it was ready for him still brought some comfort. Gelda was visiting Gloxinia in his final days and Zeldris would need all the energy he could get to create a portal so that they could talk.
He was surprised and extremely pleased to find Gelda waiting for him when he entered the room. She was sitting in a cushioned armchair, her legs curled up under her, book in hand and Zeldris felt instantly relaxed. She looked up at him as he entered, her eyes soft and welcoming and he quickly went to her, kneeling before her, a shiver running down his spine as she wove her fingers through his hair.
"I wasn't expecting you," Zeldris murmured, losing himself in the sensation as Gelda continued to massage his scalp. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Gerheade told me about the meeting," Gelda said softly. "I thought you'd want me tonight."
"Always." Zeldris pulled himself up, taking Gelda's hand so that she came with him and he held her close, the scent of roses she wore calming his nerves. They had been married for centuries, and even after all this time he still loved her fiercely, would still give up everything to be in her arms. If anything his love for her had grown over the years as he had seen her care for their babies, soothing them in the night, playing with them as they clambered all over her, comforting them and wiping away their tears when things went wrong. She had even managed to calm Karat down when he needed it, which was no mean feat. Gelda meant everything to him and she always would.
"Ren's asked Irlana to become her heir," Zeldris muttered, still feeling his anger despite his wife's soothing caress. "It's prompted the kids to ask which of them I will choose to lead the demon clan."
"You don't have a preference?" Gelda looked at him, her gaze gentle as she sensually massaged his neck and shoulders and Zeldris could feel himself slipping under her spell.
"No. I love them all the same. None of them has a claim which is stronger than the others."
"Well then, does it need to be you who decides?" Gelda asked, a gentle smile curving her lips. "Remember what we always did when they fought each other?"
"Leave them alone and tell them to clean up the mess," Zeldris said with a chuckle.
It had worked too. He had been so worried about Karat. The boy was fine for much of the time but when he lost his temper he lost it badly and it had got to a stage where the palace walls were constantly being smashed to pieces as he clashed with Irlana over nothing at all. This was an accepted occurrence in the demon realm of course. Meliodas and Estarossa had made similar impressions on the masonry in their day, but they were play fighting, not having tantrums. Zeldris had worried that Karat was out of control, wondering if they should seek medical help, but Gelda had assured him it would be fine. And it had been. Gelda had told Karat that he could not leave a room until it was back to the way he had found it so the boy had worked on his magic, developing the power to fix his destruction. And as he had grown the tantrums had eventually ceased. His eldest boy's anger had been replaced with a ruthless determination which Zeldris both recognised and admired.
Left to their own devises, Karat and Irlana had learned how to work out their arguments without outside intervention, and now they got on well enough. Indeed, Irlana's skill with persuasion owed much to the persistent approach she had taken with her elder brother. She had learned that he would accept anything if he thought it was his idea and this had calmed things down considerably. Zane's arrival had also helped. The elder siblings had bonded over their efforts to make sure their little brother was both safe from discipline and kept in his place, the youngest enjoying the benefits of their instruction. He was the brightest of the three by far, and had developed an extremely versatile magic which could do almost anything he wanted, having learned from his elders' powers and interests.
Gelda's policy had ensured that all three children had developed independence and character, though it had been extremely hard to go along with at the time. Zeldris had hated the way he had been left to himself when growing up, his father finding him too useless to bother with compared with Meliodas. This had stung badly, especially when his continued efforts to prove his worth had gone entirely unnoticed. He had been reluctant to do anything which might make his own children feel the same way. But the difference here was that he and Gelda loved all their children more than anything and he had made sure that they were all entirely certain of their parents' affection.
"But I can hardly let them settle this question on their own. They will never reach an agreement," Zeldris protested, feeling his chest tightening slightly with the frustration.
"I'm sure you'll think of a way," Gelda reassured as she ran her hands lightly over his arms. "You always did know how to handle them."
And with her words the inkling of an idea started to grow and Zeldris smiled. There was indeed a way he could maintain the peace and still give an answer to his children.
"I have decided," Zeldris pronounced as he looked at the three expectant faces in front of him.
Irlana looked composed, sure of herself and Zeldris could see she had assumed she would win the prize. Of the three she held herself with the most authority. Karat looked more uncomfortable. His relationship with his father had been more strained when he was younger, possibly because they were so much alike. But Zeldris understood him now. Karat desperately wanted recognition and approval, that was all. Zane looked as serene as always. He would outwardly accept whatever decision came his way, but he would be secretly hurt if he was passed over, upset that he had been dismissed in favour of his more powerful siblings. The more Zeldris had had thought about it though the small hours of the night, the more he had realised that none of them could take such a rejection at this stage of their lives, and also that they were not ready for the position they wanted.
"You will decide between you," he ordered, pleased with himself. "You will journey all over Britannia, doing what you can to learn more about the other races you will interact with as ruler. You will help to solve any problems you encounter along the way, so that you establish the relationships you will need to champion our clan's position in diplomatic meetings. There is a nasty undercurrent of racism at the moment and it would be as well for you to know what you are up against and how you might deal with it. And you will get to know one another. When you get back, you will tell me based on your observations which of you is best placed to rule, and if you cannot decide or you misbehave then the crown will go to your cousin Lyla. That will give you an incentive to assess each other fairly and honestly."
Zeldris was pleased with this last idea. Estarossa's only daughter Lyla was a suitable candidate. She would not be his first choice, the lassitude she had inherited from her father was extremely annoying, but nonetheless she was powerful and effective. And of course his niece was good friends with Emala, a useful ally to have by her side. Emala would ensure Lyla had significant power and an easy relationship with the goddess clan to her advantage. She would do just fine if his own children could not choose from among themselves.
The faces looking at him showed their confusion and annoyance.
"All over Britannia? For how long?" Karat moaned.
"For as long as it takes," Zeldris said smugly. "You'll know when it's time to come back. Until then you are excused of all duties. Go and have some fun," he said, smiling at them broadly, blissfully unaware of how much he resembled Meliodas in that moment.
"But father..." Zane interjected, and Zeldris could see the pain in his eyes. He knew what the poor boy was thinking.
"Come to me," he murmured softly. Zane approached the throne and Zeldris stood, speaking closely into his ear so as to keep the discussion away from the others.
"I know you love her, and you will miss her, but she doesn't love you in return. She may change her mind of course, but if anything you're being away will help with that. Write to her. It worked for me and your mother."
Zane looked up at this, his blue eyes watering slightly and he nodded slowly. Truth be told, the agony of seeing Emala with his cousin felt like hot knives being shoved into his breast. A break from the sight would be most welcome.
"As you wish father," Irlana said respectfully. This would play in her favour. Karat was so brusque that he would most likely alienate Zane so that both of her brothers would pick her out of spite for the other.
Bowing, the three children left the room to prepare for their mission. It would be their first time up in Britannia on their own and all of them wanted the enterprise to go their way.