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I couldn’t take hearing their ridiculous conversation any longer. “If you’re trying to scare me, it isn’t working.” I said, though my words were a little muffled by the bag.
Someone slammed me across the shoulder with what felt like a club. I was lucky I was still wearing armor, otherwise that could’ve hurt. “No one said you could speak!” hissed Skrix. He then hit me again. “Keep that trap shut.”
“Now, Skrix,” said Azaroth. “That is no way to treat the merchandise.”
“One of us’s gotta keep it in line, and I don’t see Okaras stepping up to do it.” He said the other demon’s name more forcefully, as if he was further away.
“If you damage it, I will make sure the Overlord knows it was you.”
The threat seemed to be enough to quiet Skrix, albeit reluctantly. In all this time I had managed to just about wriggle my fingers, and that was it. There was no getting out of the bindings keeping my arms and legs together, no way for me to free myself. The only thing I could think to do was talk, especially now that clubbing me had been taken off the table.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said.
In truth, I wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing. Taking me somewhere, sure—to some city, they had said. But where that city was, or for what purpose I was being taken there, I didn’t know. The most I had managed to glean was that I was considered merchandise, and my Light was possibly a valuable, rare, commodity.
I didn’t want to think about what they’d do to me when that Light ran out.
“Is that your play, angel?” asked Azaroth. “Plead with us?”
“I won’t beg,” I replied.
“You know, Pride is a sin. Normally I would encourage sinning, but I need to keep you as fresh as possible. You’ll fetch a much higher price that way.”
“And what do you think you’ll get by selling me off? What’s so different about any other Pit angel and me?”
“Light, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is not something we have access to down here. And most of the Pit arrivals are already tapped out by the time they dig their way through. You seem to have held on to yours, so, I find someone interested in paying a high price for you, they get your Light, and I get my own castle and a legion of subordinates. What else could a demon want?”
“Are you the only one who benefits from this sale, or do Gharol and Skrix also get castles?”
My words were met with silence filled only by the gentle rolling of what sounded like thunder overhead. I took that silence to mean that what I had just said had struck a cord.
“It’s got a point,” grumbled Gharol, after the tension-filled moment. “I want a castle and a legion too.”
“Overlords get legions,” said Azaroth. “Ravagers get to kill with impunity. Stick to what you are good at.”
“You don’t let me do that either!”
“What about Corruptors, then?” Interrupted Skrix. “Do we get castles?”
“No, you do not get castles.” Azaroth sighed, cleared agitated by the turn of conversation. “Neither of you get castles, and neither of you get legions! What would you even do with a legion?” asked Azaroth.
“I dunno. I’m smart. I’d figure it out,” replied Skrix
“Yes,” I said, “You are smart. So smart! Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”
“See?” asked Skrix. “It thinks I’m smart.”
“An angel—and captive who wants to escape—says you are smart,” said Azaroth, lowering his tone. “Perhaps you’re not as intelligent as you think.”
“Are you using big words to confuse us again?” asked Gharol, “Because that worked last time, but it’s not going to work now.”
“Look, you’re all making a huge mistake,” I said. “If you go and sell me off to some other demon, what’s to stop them from making me destroy all of you with my Light?”
“I know you don’t possess enough Light in you to do that,” said Azaroth. “I don’t know why you’re here, or why you fell into the Pit wearing armor, but I know you can’t destroy us. You would have already.”
“Okay, then in that case, your estimation of my value is totally wrong.”
“What does it mean?” asked Skrix. “What do you mean, angel?”
