Father and Son

The moment I pushed open the massive doors, I immediately regretted my assumption about bedrooms.

This was definitely not a bedroom.

The vast throne room stretched out before me, with high vaulted ceilings that disappeared into shadow and massive pillars carved with gothic imagery. At the far end, on a throne that looked like it had been carved from a single piece of obsidian, sat the largest demon I had ever seen.

He was easily nine feet tall, with shoulders broad enough to use as a landing strip. His horns curved majestically from his forehead, and his red eyes blazed with an inner fire that made my new demonic abilities feel like party tricks. Everything about him screamed power, authority, and the kind of casual violence that could end civilizations.

When he saw me, his stern expression immediately shifted to one of relief and joy.

"Malzeth!" he boomed, his voice echoing off the stone walls as he rose from his throne. "My son!"

My son. Oh hell.

Before I could process this information properly, I found myself engulfed in the most bone-crushing hug of my entire existence, living or dead. Arms like tree trunks wrapped around me, lifting me clean off the ground, and I had to fight not to wheeze as my ribs protested the pressure.

"My Lord," I managed to gasp out, the words coming more from lack of oxygen than any sense of propriety.

He held me at arm's length, his massive hands still gripping my shoulders. "My Lord? What's this formality, boy? I'm your father!"

Father. Right. The Demon Lord was apparently my dad now. The irony of being supposed to kill the Demon Lord while actually being his son wasn't lost on me, but I didn't have time to appreciate it properly.

"Sorry," I said, trying to sound appropriately filial. "It's been a long day."

"A long day?" His expression darkened with concern. "Malzeth, you've been gone since yesterday morning! I sent scouts out looking for you when you didn't return from your hunt, and they reported seeing a Hero in the outer territories!"

A Hero. Just perfect.

"I was preparing the army to search for you," he continued, his voice tight with worry. "I thought that damned Hero might have found you!"

I glanced at Celestia, who was keeping her head down and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. An idea began forming, terrible and brilliant at the same time.

"Actually, Father," I said, straightening up and trying to project confidence, "I did encounter the Hero."

His eyes widened with alarm, then quickly scanned me for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did she harm you?"

"No, no, I'm fine." I waved off his concern, then gestured toward Celestia. "In fact, I captured one of her party members."

Both of them stared at me, though for very different reasons. Celestia's eyes were wide with horror at where this was going, while my apparent father looked intrigued.

"One of her party?" he asked, studying Celestia with new interest.

"A Priestess," I said, warming to the lie. "I managed to take her prisoner before the Hero woke up from our battle. Thought she might be useful for information."

The Demon Lord's expression shifted to one of pride and delight. "Excellent work, my son! A captured Priestess, especially one traveling with a Hero, could provide valuable intelligence about their plans!"

"That's what I thought," I said, trying not to look at Celestia's face, which had gone through several interesting color changes.

"And you say you fought the Hero herself?" His chest puffed out with obvious pride. "Tell me, how did you fare against her?"

I scrambled for details that would sound believable. "She was... strong. Very fast with that holy sword of hers. But I managed to hold my own long enough to grab the Priestess and escape when she was distracted." I said, hoping Holy Swords do exist in this Universe and not just in the manga I've read. 

"Brilliant strategy!" he laughed, the sound echoing through the throne room. "Tactical thinking over brute force, just as I taught you! This calls for celebration!"

Before I could object, he strode over to an ornate cabinet and retrieved something that made my stomach drop. It was a collar, black metal with red gems embedded in it, clearly designed for exactly the purpose I was afraid it was designed for.

"Here," he said, walking back over with obvious enthusiasm. "A proper slave collar for your prize. This will ensure she cannot escape or betray you."

He held out the collar expectantly, and I realized I was trapped. Refusing would raise questions I couldn't answer, but putting it on Celestia felt like crossing a line I wasn't sure I could come back from.

Celestia was staring at the collar with undisguised horror, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. She looked at me with an expression that clearly said 'you wouldn't dare.'

I took the collar from my father's hands and looked down at it. The gems pulsed with a malevolent red light, and I could feel some kind of enchantment radiating from the metal.

"Well?" my father prompted, clearly expecting me to put it on her immediately.

I looked at Celestia again, saw the panic in her eyes, and felt something dark and petty rise up inside me. She had gotten us into this mess with her incompetence. She had turned me into a demon, stranded me in the demon realm, and shoved me into someone else's body. And now I was supposed to feel guilty about playing the part she'd forced me into?

"Of course," I said, and stepped toward her with a smile that was probably not very nice.

"Wait," she whispered, backing away slightly. "Emerick, you can't seriously be..."

"Hold still," I said coldly, echoing the tone she'd used when lecturing me about divine authority. "This won't take long."

Her eyes went wide as I reached around her neck with the collar. For a moment, she looked like she might run, but then she seemed to remember where we were and who was watching.

The collar closed with a soft click, and immediately the gems flared to life. Celestia gasped, her hands flying to her throat as the enchantment took hold.

"Perfect!" my father declared, clapping his massive hands together. "Now she's properly marked as your property. The collar will prevent her from straying too far from you, and will compel obedience to your direct commands."

"Thank you, Father," I said. "It's exactly what I needed."

"Excellent!" He beamed at me with paternal pride. "Now then, you must be exhausted from your encounter with the Hero. Go rest, recover your strength. We can discuss what intelligence you've gathered from your prisoner tomorrow."

"That sounds perfect," I agreed, mostly because I had no idea what else to say.

"Vara!" he called out, and immediately a female demon appeared from the shadows near the throne. She was shorter than the other demons I'd seen, with pale white skin, small curved horns, and dressed in what could generously be called a maid outfit. The black dress was cut in a way that left very little to the imagination, with no midriff and a skirt so short it barely qualified as such. Her thin tail actually lifted the back of the skirt slightly as she moved, creating an effect that was clearly intentional.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" she said with a curtsy that somehow managed to be even more revealing than her outfit.

"Escort my son to his chambers and assist him with changing," my father commanded. "He's had a long day and needs proper rest."

"At once, Your Majesty," Vara replied, then turned to me with another curtsy. "If you would follow me, Lord Malzeth?"

I nodded, grateful for the guidance since I had no idea where my supposed chambers were located. As we prepared to leave, my father called out one more time.

"Malzeth!"

"Yes, Father?"

"I'm proud of you, son. Capturing a member of the Hero's party shows real tactical thinking. You're becoming the warrior I always knew you could be."

The genuine warmth in his voice made my chest tighten with guilt. This demon clearly loved his son, and here I was wearing that son's face while lying about everything.

"Thank you," I managed. "I learned from the best."

His smile could have powered a small city.

We left the throne room, Vara leading the way with her tail swishing behind her and Celestia trailing silently beside me, I couldn't help but notice the way the collar's gems pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.

"Your chambers are just ahead, my lord," Vara said cheerfully, apparently completely unbothered by her state of near-undress. "I've already prepared a bath and laid out fresh clothing for you."

"That's... very efficient," I said, trying to focus on literally anything other than the way her outfit moved with each step.

"I live to serve the royal family," she replied with another smile. "It's my greatest honor."

We stopped at an elaborate set of double doors, which Vara opened to reveal a suite that was larger than most houses. Everything was decorated in blacks and deep reds, with enough expensive-looking furniture to buy a small kingdom.

"Your chambers, my lord," she announced. "Shall I begin preparing your bath?"

I glanced at Celestia, who was still touching the collar with obvious distress, then back at Vara's expectant face.

"That would be perfect," I said, because honestly, after everything that had happened today, a bath sounded like exactly what I needed.

Even if I had no idea how I was going to explain to Celestia why I'd just put a slave collar on a goddess.

That was a conversation that was definitely going to go well.