“Why do pigeons fly?” he asks and no-
“Because there are flying pigs.” She slaps a hand to her forehead and tries to cover her face from onlookers. There is a vampire in neon clothing sitting next to her.
“I don’t know him-“ She inches away from her companion and leans into the vampire’s personal space. He leans back, flinching. “-please believe me.” she pleads. He trembles and nods lightly; her companion whips out a talisman and hands it to the guy. “Attracts shades, you’re welcome.” He goes back to chatting nonsense.
“He sure was outshining the sun,” he says and Eona is sure Garon’s talking about the vampire. “Couldn’t look away, actually, couldn’t look at the shine. Darn shiny; hurt my eye.”
“Can you stop spitting out memes for a moment?” She would never admit but the Night Alcove’s forum had the most hilarious comments ever.
“Oh dark lady, why have thou betrayed me?” He still doesn’t take her seriously. “My heart has been seized by a Fae Child; oh great witch Aria, keep my heart sound in a crystal ball!”
“Carnaear’s plays never get past the five hundredth rank.”
“People are dumb. No one recognizes talent since the Gylmoire Ages.” he says, jutting out his bottom lip and resting his chin in his palm, his spine curves.
“Aria the Magistra was Fae herself, so keeping it in a crystal ball is moot point anyway.”
Garon snorts, “She was writing the Fool, of course she would write that.”
“Benaria wasn’t the Fool.”
“She totally was!” he argues. “Have we read the same play? Benaria drinks from Demon King’s blood and turns into a servant, when she thought she was going to become demon herself.”
“Demon blood doesn’t cause brainwashing or Compellment.” Eona interjects, yawning. “Trust me. I study Racial Biochemistry at the Academy.”
“Well, I studied Experimental Ritualism, and we did a paper involving the use of demonic materials in Trade Rituals, so I win. Benaria became a servant.”
“Benaria obeyed Demon King’s command willingly-“ Eona looks at the screen to check on her stop. “-she didn’t mind, as she was already in love with him; most likely because of romanticizing the idea of enslavement and Stockholm Syndrome, and overestimating a possible Lima Syndrome.”
“Rubbish,” Garon comments, crossing his legs with mild irritation. “She abhors him, she says so in the first scene.” Eona tuts quietly. “Of course not. Benaria says that she has never met the Demon King, and although she abhors what he has done -destroying the lives of innocents- she admires him for his devoted passion in his cause and his honesty in his intentions. She likes his straightforward acts and trusts him to always do what he thinks will further his cause.
“So when she is found trespassing and brought to the king, she is hopeful that her expectations will match the reality. The Demon King offers his blood to her, taking advantage of her desire to turn her into an asset. He takes pleasure in bending creatures to his will by playing their weaknesses. The fact that Benaria knows this is what makes this all the more strange. She knows that he is as manipulative as he is honest and that is the most dangerous combination of all. Yet she still keeps hoping that he will desire her in return, which is her doom in the end.”
Garon is still doubtful but decides to let go, seeing how passionate she is about this work. He leans back, sighing, “So, dear Shadow, did you like our meeting?” he asks curiously. “You spent it with the second hand of Mionso, after all.”
“Hah,” she huffs out, amused but bitter. “I know better than Benaria to believe a façade.”
“Dear passengers, Golyan Strasse. Next stop, Barkroad.”
She stands up curtly, hand clasping over her backpack. Garon watches her apprehensively.
“Thanks anyway. You are wasting time on a useless pet project.”
“Wait- no. Eona-“
“Doors, you know,” she