“The glazed-over look in your eyes was a strong indicator.”
“Damn, you got me.” Jon winked, not the least bit upset about not understanding, because he could see Barion had tried his best to be clear. Jon had the strong suspicion one had to be a demon to really get it. “Since I don’t think there’s any hope of me understanding demonic travel any better than Amber does baking, why don’t we get back to your talent, which I think is super cool, by the way.”
Barion bowed with a flourish. “Thank you. The really cool thing about my talent is that, even though I can’t manipulate time beyond said five minutes, I can replay it, like a DVD.”
Jon’s eyes went wide. “All of it?”
“All of it.” Barion preened like a peacock.
“Holy shit.”
“Yep. Do you want to see?” The big demon seemed like an eager puppy.
“Of course I want to see. How about I prepare us some snacks and we get comfortable on the couch? Do you need anything? Like a screen?”
“No. Just the snacks. You want to see anything in particular?”
“The demon wars, of course. Let’s not forget we have a game to create.”
Barion saluted. “Demon wars coming up.”
Jon went to the kitchen where he put chips into a bowl, found some pretzels and a sour cream dip which he arranged more or less artfully on a plate, before he poured them both water from the fridge. It wasn’t what humans would think of as healthy, but Barion was an immortal demon and Jon already dead. Being able to basically eat whatever he fancied was one of the few things about his undead existence that Jon had embraced from the very beginning. Once they were comfortable on the couch, Jon looked at Barion expectantly.
“What are you going to show me?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe the Battle at Ch’tal’ur is a good starting point. It has everything from close range fighting inside a building to an open battlefield and a chase through the woods.”
“Sounds interesting already. Who is fighting against whom?”
Barion cocked his head. “Uh, everybody against everybody else?”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
They stared at each other for a moment, both wondering about what the other was thinking. It was Jon who tried to resolve the matter.
“I meant, what are we looking at? Is it the Targaryens against the Lannisters or House Stark against House Tyrell?”
Understanding dawned on Barion’s face. “I see… I should have explained better.” He cleared his throat. “In demon society, there are no houses. There’s just the royal family, of which I’m part, as you can see from my silver markings”—he gestured at the intricate silver tattoos on his blue skin where they were visible on his forearms and neck—“and the warrior caste, who have bronze tattoos. Normal demons have black markings, though that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. Only the king, my father, has gold markings, and should he ever decide to hand the mantle over to one of us”—Barion shuddered visibly—“his markings will turn to silver while those of the next king will change to gold.”
Jon was fascinated. “Did that happen when your father became king?”
“Yes. Grandfather was fed up with the constant fighting around the time the dinosaurs walked the Earth. According to him, it took some serious bribing to convince Father to take on the burden.”
“Your father has been the king of all demons since the Jurassic period?”
“Yeah. He says the Earth was more fun back then because demons could walk around freely.”
Jon felt his head spin and decided to return to the original topic before they got lost in what seemed to be complicated family dynamics a long time in the making. “Demons have different markings, though that doesn’t make them more or less dangerous. Got it. Has your father ever been challenged?”
“You mean challenged for the position of having to oversee a vast bunch of immortal creatures with the patience of a two-year-old toddler and the destructive power of several atomic bombs? Strangely enough, nobody has ever tried to wrestle the crown from him.”
Jon could see the logic in that. Still… “Then why did the demon wars happen? They’re over, aren’t they?”
“In most universes, yes, especially here because we’ve realized humans are much more fun alive.” Barion winked. “And the wars happened because demons get bored quickly and we’re not exactly built for crafting to pass time.” He held up one of his huge hands, slowly letting the claws slide free. Though ‘claws’ was probably not the right word for the sword-like appendages with the very pointy, very sharp ends. “What we are good at is fighting and destroying things. Hence the wars.” Barion must have seen something in Jon’s eyes because he spoke on a bit hastily. “When I say war, I don’t mean it in the same way you do.”
Jon arched a brow. “Let’s see. In a war people fight against each other with whatever weapon they have at hand, with the goal to kill as many enemies as possible and come out the winner, who is usually determined by the amount of land or riches or power he or she has amassed.”
“That would be a human war, yes. Very accurate.” Barion took a sip from his water. “With demons, the first problem is they are indestructible, so killing is off the table. The second is that we only tolerate close family but usually no other demons, unless they turn out to be our mate. Between demons there are no alliances. Everybody is on their own.”
