Prince Abaddon: An Erotic MM Drama (part thirteen) 18+

A Zwahk Muchoney production

Dear readers, I write this as a goblin king confused about the nature of his own heart. Last night, I was visited by a phantom from my past. I now relate this turn of events because it's left me wondering if I'm cursed to only ever recognize love when it's too late.

Still, I promised to deliver the ending of Prince Abaddon, so I shall keep my word. At least Rideriel might finally find happiness.

***

Michael motioned for the soldiers to bind Abaddon, then glanced back at Rideriel. Not sure of what else to do, he pulled off his cloak, handing it to the angel, who took it gratefully, wrapping it around his prone, vulnerable form. Overwhelmed with sadness, Michael said,

"If I'd known what he was doing, I would have rescued you from such a fate." Rideriel frowned, replying,

"Did the Archangels even know I was gone?"

Michael hesitated. There had been some talk among the angels about Rideriel's departure, but the prevailing attitude among many was the scribe was just another lustful angel who deserved to fall.

The commander was overwhelmed with guilt. He'd known Rideriel wasn't an evil soul, but had brushed off his plight as readily as everyone else.

A golden light shone over the courtyard. Tzyeriel descended, landing softly before the scribe, who smiled at him and said,

"You told them to come find me?"

The Seraph nodded. Rideriel smiled gratefully, saying,

"Thank you."

Satan landed nearby. He was about to say something, when Rideriel shot him a look so pointed it caused the horned angel to hang his head in shame.

A tense silence followed. Finally, Michael stepped forward and said,

"Rideriel, you may return to Heaven if you wish. I'll speak with the other Archangels on your behalf and do everything in my power to help you feel more accepted."

Rideriel considered the offer. He believed Michael, and knew that Heaven was safer than the world of man. However, his experience with Abaddon had made him realize he'd never deserved such disrespect. He looked up at the Archangel solemnly, saying,

"While I'm grateful for my rescue, I'm afraid I can never return to the celestial realm." Michael, confused, asked,

"Why?"

Rideriel tied the banner around himself, stood up, and, in a steady voice, explained,

"I was driven to such despair that I felt no recourse but to fall. Now that I know just how indifferent the angels were, I wouldn't be able to stand in their presence again without remembering their coldness."

There was no anger in Rideriel’s tone: only reflection. Michael furrowed his brow, unsure of how to respond. The scribe continued,

"Given the choice between living in Heaven or on Earth, I'd rather walk the mortal realm. It may be filled with danger, but at least I'll have my freedom and self-respect."

The commander sighed and said,

"If that's your wish, I'll honor it. Just know my offer still stands if you change your mind."

Rideriel nodded. Michael frowned deeply, adding,

"Unfortunately, Hell now lacks a leader. Given what Abaddon has done, he can never again hold a position of authority. I assumed he would govern similar to Satan, but I couldn't have been more wrong."

Michael crossed his arms, bowing his head in thought. After a moment, he continued,

"Since there are no other angels serving in the abyss, I'll have to assign a member of Heaven to keep order. Nobody will want the position, but it's the only solution I can think of."

A loud CAW rang out from above. All of the angels (save Abaddon) looked toward the sky. Several raven-headed demons in armor were flying overhead.

One dove down, landing in the center of the courtyard. It was none other than the Marquis Andras. With a fierce, determined bearing, he strode toward Michael and said,

"I've been listening to this entire exchange. As a witness and high-ranking figure of Hell, it's obvious to me which angel should be placed in charge!"

Andras turned, pointing at Rideriel.

Wide-eyed with surprise, Michael responded,

"Him?!"

Rideriel stood in stunned silence. The Marquis halted several feet away, opened his wings theatrically, and declared,

"Yes, the songbird should sit on the throne. I was on the verge of going to war with my neighbor, when this angel prevented bloodshed, not through threats or coercion, but with knowledge and diplomacy. He was presented as a mere ornament, but during negotiations, proved more capable than that wretch Abaddon."

Michael glanced at Rideriel and asked,

"Is this true? Did you really solve a military conflict?"

The scribe nodded, replying,

"I came upon the palace's hall of records. All I did was bring up an article that applied to the situation."

Michael raised an eyebrow. The scribes of Heaven were important, yet invisible in most celestial dealings. It had never occurred to him their skills could have such significant applications. He looked down at the Marquis, who noticeably softened, adding,

"This beautiful bird also has the gift of song. I admit, for all my strength, I'm weak to music, as is every demon in the realm. Satan knew this, and would use his fiddle to ease times of tribal tension."

The raven lord turned to Rideriel, proclaiming,

"Sing for me and my legions, and you will have my loyalty, fair angel."

Rideriel blushed, smiling in turn. With a grand gesture, the Marquis threw a clawed hand into the air and cawed,

"Let it be the Songbird! May he be granted the crown of Hell!"

Several demons crawled out of hiding, and, certain now that Abaddon was no longer a threat, joined in,

"Yes! Let us be ruled by the Bird of Paradise!"

More and more demons chanted their support for Rideriel, until the whole castle reverberated with their cries.

"Glory be to the Songbird, give us to the Songbird!"

The sounds of many a stamping hoof, braying call, and joyful howl filled the air.

Rideriel stood silently, his face serene amid the cries of infernal jubilation. There was an electric spark in that moment, something so far-reaching that even Charon, adrift on his raft many miles away, felt a sudden shift. The cloaked figure turned, and for the first time in his existence, smiled ever so slightly.

Michael was in a complete state of disbelief, unsure of what to do. Rideriel caught his eye and said,

"If you'll grant me Heaven's backing, I will gratefully take up the mantle of King."

Surprised, the Archangel replied,

"But you are... you've never held a position of authority, are you sure you can handle it?"

Rideriel smiled and said,

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

***

Blarg and I were preparing to return to the Nether realms in the morning. As I packed my suitcase, I thought of what I'd encountered during my last few months living in the city: the people I'd met, the sights I'd seen...

For the most part, I'd had a jolly good time. My only regret was that I never managed to find my sunflower-clad prince of the meadow.

I told myself it was just as well; fae and goblins were too different. No matter what I'd done, sooner or later our friendship would have come to an end.

I never claimed I was above coping.

Once we were ready, Blarg left to go spend the night at Nicole's apartment. Stinksnort asked if he could take the sentient dish-washing fungus to a midnight movie. I gave him the night off, eventually falling asleep while I was reading on the couch.

Later that night, a sudden noise woke me from my slumber. At first I thought the sound came from the baby dragon's metal terrarium. I wandered over to check on the minuscule fire-breathers, relieved to find they were all snoring cozily in their crate.

I glanced over at their mother Agatha. She basked upon her little rock, her red heat lamp casting a strange, otherworldly glow, seemingly lost in some strange reptilian dream.

Then I saw a shadow on the wall, its lithe outline dancing from one corner to the next. It pointed to me, beckoning toward the wide-paned studio window. I turned, seeing it was open. A dark figure sat upon the sill, his shoulder-length brunette curls and lace wings perfectly framed in the dim light. I gasped, exclaiming,

Aurelyr!

The faerie responded with soft laughter. I moved forward, but his shadow leapt in front of me, stretching its form until it had taken up the entirety of the room. Aurelyr called out,

"It's alright, you don't need to guard me from him."

The wandering shade shrank back to its regular size. With one fluid motion, Aurelyr patted the spot next to him and said,

"Kindly shadow, please return to my side, at least for the time being."

The dark entity hesitated, giving me one final glance before darting to sit next to its master.

Aurelyr stood, stepping closer to me. The lamp's faint red light traced the contours of his slight, pretty features, shining against the locks of his hair.

I gulped, fearful and elated to once more be in his presence.

He stopped mere feet away, looking at me with that stare that always seemed to see right through me. Aurelyr held fast, waiting for me to speak. I swear I tried, but all I could manage was,

"It's... I... Where-?"

Seeing my befuddled state, he sighed, saying,

"I've been reading all your posts. It wasn't hard to find your blog; it isn't every day a goblin king uses the internet to share his adventures with the world of man."

My eyes widened in surprise. In one of my entries, I'd spoken of how I'd come to this dimension in hopes of finding Aurelyr. It had never occurred to me that the one I'd been searching for might in turn seek me out.

He grinned, continuing,

"That last one, where you described a lusty frolic with a handsome window washer while still on the scaffold. What silliness; if you'd really engaged in such an act, riding upon another man's wand in full view of nearby high-rises, the story would have been all over the local news."

He flashed me a warm, knowing smile. I chuckled and replied,

"Oh, alright, you got me. I embellished the story to make it more exciting. The window scrubbing Adonis didn't have sex with me until we were safely on the roof."

Aurelyr's smile faded. Realizing I'd upset him, I said,

"You shouldn't be surprised. I've never lied about my sensual appetites. Why, when we first met at the festival, I mentioned how I'd already arranged a late-night tryst with one of the acrobats. Remember your remark about how I'd need to hump in time to their flips and somersaults?"

Aurelyr, eyes downcast, replied,

"It hurts because you later showed such interest in me, but when I revealed I also wanted more than friendship, you played it off as a joke. You readily gave yourself to strangers, but not to me."

I tried to speak, to give some explanation for my behavior, but the words caught in my throat.

Finally, I swallowed my fear and said,

"I never meant to hurt you. Perhaps I pulled back because I was afraid we'd no longer be friends if we had s-"

I blushed.

Me!

Here I was, Badinel the rake, Badinel the fun-time boy, cheek-flushed like a nervous school child.

Aurelyr tilted his head, waiting for me to continue. I caught my breath, confessing,

"The truth is, I've missed you terribly since you left the Nether realms. I long for your laughter, your wit, your willingness to call me out when everyone else only tells me what I want to hear. I need you, Aurelyr."

He looked at me sadly and said,

"You toyed with my heart, Badinel. I kept wondering what I'd done to warrant such cruelty. The longer it went on, the more I realized I couldn't stay friends with you; that's why I had to disappear."

I paused and replied,

"If I shared myself with you... if we spent the night enjoying each other... would you consider returning to my life?"

His eyes widened at this; from fear or lust, I could not say. In a hesitant voice, I whispered,

"You're very lovely, Aurelyr. I admit I've never been with a faerie, but I could give it a try, if that's your wish."

He gave me a hard, searching look, asking,

"And what of you, do you want to make love with me?"

I hesitated, considering his question. I knew I desired him, that losing him had been more painful than I cared to admit, but truly making love required something I wasn't sure I had the ability to give.

I looked back upon the endless sea of goblins, orcs, and human men I'd experienced carnal delight with, wondering if I’d ever been in love with any of them…

After a moment's hesitation, I said,

"I don't know if I'm able to be intimate with you, or anyone else for that matter. I'm not going to make a promise I'm unsure I can keep, but if you wish, we could still share pleasure as close friends."

He folded his arms, bowing his head. His shadow stretched out, circling around me. I turned to the wavering shade, wary of its watchful presence.

Aurelyr approached me cautiously, reaching out to take my hands in his, my heart skipping a beat as we held each other. For once, I didn't rush in like some bold, amorous knight, but instead savored this slice of time, drinking in the wonder of it.

He leaned over, pressing his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, feeling as though I would melt into him.

He smelled of sunflowers.

The moment was charged with the desire that comes from regaining that which seemed forever lost. What I experienced in that instant was new territory, but the adventurer in me wanted to explore, to unravel the mystery of what lay locked behind that kiss.

But then he pulled back, releasing his grip. Confused, I asked,

"What's wrong?"

A tear fell from the corner of his eye. He wiped it away, speaking in a voice tinged with finality,

"This was a mistake. All I've done is reopen a wound that had just begun to heal."

He regained his composure. With an air of quiet dignity, Aurelyr turned away, heading for the window. As he departed, he whispered,

"Goodbye, Badinel."

Panicked, I rushed at him, reaching to grab his arm. His shadow fell upon me, solidifying itself just enough to pull me back. Struggling with all my might, I cried out,

"Don't leave me, I love-!"

But then he was gone.

The shadow followed him out the window, releasing me. I fell back, tumbling to the floor. The impact sent bolts of pain through my body, but I barely noticed, so focused was I on trying to catch one last glimpse of him, my faerie of the fields.

By the time I'd reached the window, he'd disappeared into the night.

Horrified by my loss, I let out a howl of despair. For the rest of the night, I wept uncontrollably, torn apart by the undeniable fact that I'd been the one to drive him away.

Eventually, the first rays of sunlight filtered into the apartment. I checked on Agatha and her dragonlings, dropping them several slices of fresh vegetables.

After calling Blarg and Stinksnort, I went to sit by the window. I pulled myself up on the sill, trying to distract myself by watching the people below.

It was then that I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I saw a sunflower lying next to me. I picked it up, bringing it to my nose. Its scent carried the sweetness of sunshine and honey.

I sighed, wondering if I would ever see my friend again, or have the chance to make things right.

I pressed the large yellow flower between the pages of my notebook, and sat waiting for my companions. When they arrived, I would do what I'd always done: swallow the pain and wear my crown with pride.

After all, what use has a king for sorrow?

So ends Prince Abaddon, the second book in the Divine Temptations series. As most of you arrived at this blog after the conclusion of the first book, I will start rereleasing The Devil’s Beloved with new erotic content next week.

The sequel to Rideriel’s story will be released in the next six-eight weeks as a pre-order book. The third part of King Badinel’s tale will resume in a few months.

Thanks for everything, see you next time,

Zwahk Muchoney

Seattle, Wa