Art & Ozz

"You've never worn that before."

"I mean, not much point when it's just us two walking in the forest," Arthur admitted with a chuckle. "Do you think it's too much? Or a bad smell?"

Now it was the demon's turn to get flustered. "Oh uh no, not at all. It's kinda earthy, I... do like it, I guess."

Arthur's blue eyes flashed at the validation. "That's great! And I have something for you, too." He squirmed out of Ozzumyn's grasp and ran to a jar on a nearby bookshelf, pulling out something purple and presenting it to the incubus.

"...You got me flowers?"

"It's enchanted lavender, actually. It seems that when you aren't, y'know, putting on the glamor and giving off all those pheromones, you kinda... well, have an air of brimstone about you." Ozzumyn gave the squire a blank stare and vaguely indicated to himself that he is, in fact, a demon. "I know, I know, and I don't mind, but it would really help ease my coven around you."

"Well damn, Arty, I already put on a shirt for you."

Arthur scoffed and responded, "A child's shirt, maybe, I don't know how you stretched it so much and your midriff is all exposed. And you love it, yes, I know. But just this one more thing for me? Please?"

Ozzumyn passively put up both hands. "Alright, alright, don't grovel about it, gimme the flowers." He snatched the plant up and stuffed it unceremoniously into his shirt pocket. "There, do I smell pretty now?"

Arthur fiddled with the flowers for a moment, brow creased with concentration, before giving a sniff and smiling. "Wonderful! Thank you, Ozz."

"Hey now, you used to only smile at me like that!"

The two spun around at the new voice, noticing for the first time a short young lady leaning against the doorway with one hand on her hip. She was a dwarf in the same squire outfit as Arthur, and the sight of her caused him to light up like a beacon. "Sally! I can't believe you made it!" Arthur shouted, swooping her up in a crushing, joyous hug that sent them both laughing and bouncing. After that had gone on long enough Ozzumyn let out an obnoxious cough, breaking up the two with some embarrassed laughter on Arthur's part. "Oh sorry, right. Ozz, this is Salgalsia, one of my best friends from the coven. Sally, this is--"

"The incubus," Salgalsia breathed, letting out a slow whistle. "So you weren't just pulling our chain the whole time." Roughly half a dozen other squires had joined the show by now, some of them looking up at the church with approval but the majority looking at Ozzumyn with anything but.

Well, Ozzumyn knew the day would come where the limits of Arthur's dedication would be tested. Might as well put on a show. "Greetings, mortals! I am the dreaded Ozzumyn the Insatiable, at your service," he said, sweeping down in a low and overdramatic bow.

Silence. Arthur let out an awkward chuckle before standing next to the demon. "Eh-heh, yeah, this is him alright. Don't let the attitude fool you, he's a sweet guy that helped build this church."

Ozzumyn snorted and slung one arm around Arthur's neck, putting on a display of possession while also subtly keeping the squire between him and the others at all times. "That's right, we're regular buds! And I'm under his protection, so nyehhh." Ozz made some rather rude gestures with his free hand, and with a laugh Arthur nudged him in the ribs.

"Don't tease them, Ozz! He likes to taunt, but I promise he's only been helping me out. I swear to Selûne, okay?" This seemed to mollify the crowd a bit, and at least none of them looked like they were ready to dogpile him for the time being. Arthur's jovial attitude turned somber and anxious as he asked, "So Sally... who came to perform the blessing?"

The dwarf just rolled her eyes. "Duh, did you think deNarcel would miss the favored student's pilgrimage? We're just the scouting party." Arthur was absolutely giddy at the news, breaking from the embrace to run outside, and after a beat of awkward staring everyone else followed him.

Ozzumyn kept his distance from the other squires, standing off to the side of the crowd as the jaw-dropping stagecoach approached. It was a magnificent sight, not from its elegance but from the sheer presence it carried: pulled by four massive horses black as midnight, the stagecoach was a solid and no-nonsense contraption built for war and only slightly disguised with the celestial carvings and bunting. The demon was honestly impressed, having expected some haughty and impractical thing, but the ceremony the squires put on opening the door gave that very impression.

Out stepped a veritable tank, tall and broad-shouldered and fully clad in gleaming silver armor with bronze highlights, complete with a navy blue clock embroidered with the Moon to tie it all together. Off came the helmet, revealing a woman with soft features hardened by faded scars on her face and streaks of grey in her braided dark hair. "I've missed you too, my child," she laughed, breaking into a matronly smile as she embraced Arthur. "I see you've been busy, the church looks perfect."

Instead of giving her the grand tour, however, Arthur steered the paladin right towards Ozzumyn while midway through a jabbering story. "...And he helped! This is Ozzumyn, my traveling partner and friend. Ozz, this is Master Harmony deNarcel. I'm so glad you two could finally meet! ...Ozz?"

The incubus had not so much as dared to breath since deNarcel had removed her helmet, for he recognized the face and knew to fear it deeply. That face was scrawled on tapestries and described with hushed whispers in the infernal realm, given mysterious boogeyman names to avoid any possibility of invoking her attention. Swan Song, Moon's Fury, The Golden Bitch. She was, in fact, the only paladin of Selûne that had gone toe-to-toe with a 2nd circle succubus and had lived to tell about it. Hells, she was so powerful that she could scatter Ozzumyn to the four winds with a flick of the wrist, and there's nothing he could do to stop it.

And here she was, on first-name terms and giving him the judgmental stare of a disapproving in-law.

"How... hhhow," Ozzumyn tried, but his throat had gone deathly dry. Gulping loudly, he started again, "How nice to m-meet you." How about that for demonic confidence.

Arthur was suddenly by his side, putting a steadying hand around his shoulders. "Hey Ozz, what's going on? Are you feeling alright?"

"Do not worry, child, he's fine," deNarcel said with a cool, steady voice of certainty. Turning her attention to Ozzumyn, she continued, "Tell me, demon, have you been treating my student with respect and decency?" The demon nodded dumbly. "And you haven't broken your contract with him?" He shook his head, and deNarcel bent at the waist slightly so she was at eye level and uncomfortably close to him. "Then you have nothing to fear from any of us. For now. I give you my word on that, best not to waste it."

Wow. That word meant something, and Ozzumyn visibly relaxed at the reassurance. "Thank you, Golden B--er, Master deNarcel. So, uh, what's this about a blessing?"

...

The sun was setting, painting a perfect little picture behind the quaint church on the edge of town. Too bad once deNarcel ordained it as an official spot for Selûne Ozzumyn could never again step foot inside, so the demon sat on a nearby hillside and watched the squires in their celebratory feasting from a safe distance.

Ozzumyn flinched slightly when Salgalsia sat down next to him with a grunt, but he didn't say anything. "It's not a half-bad church, incubus. We'll stick around a bit to get it running, but not much is left to do." Ozz mumbled agreement and they watched the revelry in silence for a moment before the dwarf spoke again, picking her words with some care. "You know, we didn't believe Arthur at first. In his letters, I mean. Just barely starting his pilgrimage, and he had a contract with a demon just like that? I was packed and ready to come rescue him from you when Selûne herself intervened and told the master to wait and see. Said you would be a true test." Salgalsia cleared her throat, shame welling up in her voice as she continued, "I thought Selûne had lost her mind at first. But the letters kept coming, and in every one of them Arthur kept talking about how much fun he was having from traveling with you, and how proud he was with how far you were coming as a warlock."

She turned to give Ozzumyn her undivided attention, every word landing as a verbal punch in a way only dwarves can manage. "That is my best friend down there, he's totally naïve to the world but one of the sweetest people I've ever met. But I saw today how much he had grown, I wasn't sure he would ever get that confidence while in the coven. And... that's mostly thanks to you, I think." Then Salgalsia laughed, shaking herself out of the serious mood before giving Ozzumyn a playful punch on the shoulder that sent him tumbling halfway down the hillside. "You're pretty alright, demon. I've got some dwarven ale stashed away, I'll treat you to a tankard."

-End of Month 6-

The young squire skidded to a wheezing halt and crouched behind a mossy stump, desperate to keep his head down. "Ozz? OZZUMYN! Where are you!?" Arthur's shouts were answered by several thunks as moldy arrows struck his cover, making him hunker deeper into the damp soil. Blast it all, the mission wasn't supposed to go like this! A villager had spoke of a zombie wandering the ravine, a natural phenomenon in the wilds. Arthur and Ozzumyn had gone to make quick work of it before it had hurt anyone, but when they reached the ravine they found an actual necromancer had made his hideout there and was raising an army. They were caught off guard, woefully outnumbered, and cut off from their cart, and despite some ferocious fighting they were being slowly overwhelmed.

Ozzumyn dove out of the shadows, dodging arrow fire and sliding on his face up to Arthur's side. "Damnation Arty, what are we going to do?" He asked, spitting dirt as he sat up. "We can't take them all on, and if I try flying again the archers will cut me down!"

"I know, I know!" Arthur groaned back. The other squires had offered to come, but he just had to show off and try to get a little alone time with Ozz. This was all his fault, and he had to at least make sure word got back about the necromancer. "Our only hope is to make it back to the cart, I'll cut through the middle and you watch my back!" Arthur gave his friend a quick embrace before yelling and charging into the bushes, his simple squire's sword and shield blazing with holy light as it cleaved through shambling corpses.

Ozzumyn raised a hand to start blasting zombies, but paused. Why the hug? Arthur must not expect to survive this, he was doing a suicide run for the cart. Which means that, if he just did nothing, if he hung back or ran the other direction, the contract might well end right here. That means no more feeding off mortal food, no exhausting mortal magic, no mortal need to sleep... no more birdsong identified for him, no more passing stories around the campfire, no more genuine from-the-soul laughter or smiles...

Arthur screamed when a rusty blade got past his defenses, and Ozzumyn dived headfirst into the melee. An unfocused blast of raw magic sent a few zombies clattering and exposed Arthur curled up in pain, and when Ozzumyn jumped on top of him a wall of fire shout out of the ground in a circle around them. He wouldn't be able to hold them back forever, but he didn't need to. "Arty, I need you to stand up with me! Right now!" Forgotten demonic strength flooded Ozzumyn's system as he stood up with Arthur, the squire doubled over with one hand cradling his bloodied side. "Now close your eyes! You do NOT want to see this!" In the flames directly in front of them, a hole in reality was torn open by Ozzumyn's sheer force of will and the two stepped through into a world of swirling fire and madness.

If Arthur had seen any part of the infernal realm he would have immediately had his soul torn to ribbons, but the squire dutifully clung to Ozzumyn as the incubus guided their way through his old home. Hellions and random small monstrosities nipped at their heels, but the bubble of protection Ozzumyn had managed to spread over Arthur kept them at bay. Luckily the planes don't have exactly matching geography, and Ozz only had to drag Art a few yards before falling through another hole to the mortal realm. They were back at the horses, nearly half a mile away from the necromancer, and Ozz was able to shove Art into the cart before he took the reigns and they galloped off.

"We made it, I can't believe we fucking made it!" Ozzumyn whooped, his voice carried into a joyful shout by the adrenaline and brimstone pumping through his system. Arthur didn't join in on the celebrations, and once Ozz turned to his friend all the spirit drained out of him. The squire was deathly pale, blood already soaking through half his body and the bench below him, and the leather armor was peeled alway to reveal a deep cut on his waist. "Oh no no no! Art, I can probably stop the bleeding but it's going to hurt. I need your permission! Art? Arthur!" Ozzumyn shook the other slightly, but the squire had already gone into shock. If he can't give permission, then the contract... ah, to hell with the contract. Ozzumyn suffused one hand with superheated flame and cauterized the wound, sending both men into screaming, agonizing pain.

Harmony deNarcel awoke from her fitful sleep to the sounds of panic and commotion. She found her squires standing in the courtyard in front of the church, staring jaw agape as they watched a fireball hurtle down the town's main street. As the monstrosity neared forms began to take shape, first being two acid-spitting, red-eyed, demon-possessed horses, their hooves kicking up sparks as they galloped beyond the speed of any mortal beast. The simple cart behind had been twisted and blackened by the same forces, and when it came to a screeching halt the wheels dug arcing gouges of hellfire across the cobblestones. The good paladin had shielded the squares behind her and was ready to rebuke any attack, but what she wasn't ready for was to see Arthur on death's door in a puddle of his own blood.

Ozzumyn scrambled out of the cart, and deNarcel took notice of the wretched little demon for the first time. The sheer force of her unchecked holy fury was enough to make his knees buckle, but Ozzumyn was able to steady himself on the cart and lock eyes with the paladin. "Please... help him," was all he could manage before the demonic energy ran out and the world went black.

...

Ozzumyn groaned slightly as the sharp white light forced consciousness back into him. Everything hurt, there was a thudding in his skull that drowned out all sound, and it felt like his eyes were about to shrivel up and fall out. Relief came in the form of a damp wrag pressed against his forehead, and when he could manage to look up he saw two shining blue eyes smiling down on him.

"Heeeey, Arty," the demon slurred, "glad to see you're up and about."

Arthur barked some soft laughter and said, "Look who's talking, you." His voice was hoarse and only when the world swam into focus did Ozzumyn notice that his blue eyes were ringed with red.

Ozzumyn sat up slightly, despite the protesting of both Arthur and his own body. "You've been crying," he groaned, "what happened while I was out?"

"YOU happened, stupid," Arthur said, smiling despite himself. "You had used up all your demon reserves rescuing me, and... I almost lost you there. We weren't sure if you would ever wake up."

"Heh, and what would you do without me around to bug you."

"Well, you've left your mark, that much is for certain," Arthur said, standing and lifting up the side of his tunic. On his waist was a gnarly scar the exact shape of Ozzumyn's hand, and at the sight of what he had done the demon winced and turned away in shame. Arthur explained, "No Ozz, you don't get it. This is what saved me. It's like a memento, something that will always let me remember what you've done for me." The squire reached out and took Ozzumyn's hand, placing it on the scar. "See? Perfect fit. Plus, Sally says that scars make a man more attractive. Think it works for me?"

Ozzumyn flushed purple and turned away again, but before he was forced to answer the door opened and Paladin deNarcel was in the room. Arthur dropped the demon's hand and stepped out of the room without a word, but Ozzumyn could see he was blushing just as furiously as the door closed.

deNarcel sat down on the stool recently vacated by her squire and gave Ozzumyn the long look only a paladin can manage. When the silence began to edge on unbearable, she finally said, "About 300 years ago there was a wrath demon that was tricked into a contract with an order of monks. So long as its signed contract was intact, he had to do whatever any monk said. Most stories like this end with the demon being used for a weapon of war, but this was the Order of the Open Hand. Peaceful monks, never asked the demon to do anything besides brewing the tea and whatnot. Anyways, this went on for a generation until a neighboring nation invaded their lands and declared war on them. The monks were able to beat back the invaders with the demon's help, but they sustained heavy damage and found that, at some point in the fighting, the scroll with the demon's signature had been totally destroyed."

She once again fell silent, prompting Ozzumyn to at least contribute something to this conversation. "Uh, what happened then?"

The paladin grinned slightly and said, "He's serving as both the tea master and historian for the Open hand to this day. The point I'm trying to make is that demons can be truly saved. The infernal realm suppresses this idea, and it usually takes a whole clan many many years to accomplish, but it has been known to happen." She took a deep breath, as if deNarcel was admitting something to herself, before continuing, "But I have never heard of it happening in just a few months."

"Whoa whoa, you can't be saying that I'm actually saved or some shit--erm, ma'am."

This caught deNarcel off guard and a single chuckle escaped her lips before the paladin sobered up. "I know what happened that night. The price of your freedom was merely to do nothing, and yet you risked everything. You came near death to save a mortal, and there's only one reason anyone would do that." She leaned very close to Ozzumyn, ensuring that this moment would take up his entire world. "And that's love. You have my thanks, Ozzumyn." The incubus sunk into the pillows as far as physics allowed, utterly a loss at what to say, and deNarcel leaned back for a laugh. A deep, joyful laugh that lasted until she was gasping for breath and wiping her eyes. She stood and placed one hand on the doorknob before turning to Ozzumyn with a final statement. "Just think about it, and when you're ready... Arthur has a cup of tea waiting for you."

-End of Month 9-

~s~

"Well... here we are," Art said, clapping his hands together in the hopes that it would make the statement more final.

"Yep, it finally happened," came the mumbled response. The demon Ozzumyn couldn't stop fidgeting as he studied the bedchambers, looking everywhere except at the striking human he was standing next to. Arthur's flowing brown hair had finally been cut as part of the ceremony, though thankfully that didn't harden the otherwise soft features highlighted by a blazing smile. You couldn't tell from the loose-fitting ceremonial robe, but Arthur Dawnstride had grown into an athletic young man and and was finally the full-fledged paladin he always wanted to be.

Ozzumyn still couldn't believe they had gotten married just a few hours earlier. It had been a combination wedding and ordaining ceremony, held on the courtyard of the church they had built together where Salgalsia gave a hilariously embarrassing best woman speech about her first meeting Arthur. Harmony deNarcel oversaw the proceedings, declaring Arthur Dawnstride as an official paladin of Selûne and naming Ozzumyn as his husband in one go. Then there was drink and dancing, all of which blurred into a whirlwind of activity and congratulations until the two wound up alone in this quaint inn.