The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

School was starting in an hour and Syryn was lost. He had ventured out to buy an insulation stone for Lucien who had come down with a cold. That was 2 hours ago! He was ashamed and completely lost. Syryn wished he had a pi-cal disc right now and regretted putting off its purchase. Decked out in his purple gold school uniform, Syryn went up and down the street sweating out the panic he was feeling.

He had somehow reached the end of the street and was at the outskirts where the forest melded with Elysium city.

\'Alka, Magnus, someone help!\' Syryn wanted to fall to his knees.

Just when he was starting to wallow in self-pity, a warning prickle zipped over his skin. Syryn saw the image of a fast-moving shadow at the edge of his vision and it propelled him into motion.

Something was barreling towards him at speeds that rivalled a charging Armored bull! Syryn\'s reflexes immediately took over and he was kicking the thing hard across its face. It flew into the air and crashed into a house whose side wall collapsed under the force of the projectile that had hit it.

When the dust had settled, Syryn saw that the projectile was a large hell hound. It stood back up on its enormous paws and shook the debris off its thick black coat. The hound\'s eyes glowed a deep red and it growled at Syryn, exposing its massive canines that dripped off copious amounts of saliva.

To Syryn\'s left, a couple that had been walking by began to run away when the fight began to break out.

Syryn was in a real mood from having gotten lost and this seemed like a good opportunity to exercise his frustration. The hell hound was twice his size but that only served to flame Syryn\'s desire for a fight. With a bounding leap, the hell hound fell upon Syryn whose palm faced the hound and gathered power.

Out of the range of his senses, Syryn was caught off guard by another hand that appeared and tapped his own. It was like a bucket of sand had been dumped over a fire. Syryn\'s gathered power fizzled out.

At that same moment, the hell hound began to back off. It rolled over and was now showing its tummy to the newcomer. Even more annoyed, Syryn turned to look at the anti mage that had decided to kill his buzz.

He was faced with deep black eyes, the kind that looked so dark that it sucked in all the light around it. The eyes framed a face that was intensely beautiful without appearing feminine. This person\'s skin had the pallor of someone who hadn\'t seen sunlight in his life, a contrast of black and white. The only colour to be found on his pale face was the tired smudges of blue under the man\'s eyes.

"The hell do you think you\'re doing?" Syryn\'s lips were pulled down in a frown. His bad mood had spiked.

"You attacked my hound." The man was sizing him up with those dark eyes.

Where Syryn was thrumming with excess energy, this man\'s demeanour was a counterpoint of unnatural calmness that dampened Syryn\'s eagerness to fight.

"It attacked me first," Syryn replied. When faced with such a calm opponent, it was important to remain just as unperturbed. Easier said than done.

Syryn materialised a blade of ice and swung at the anti mage who pushed off the ground with a light kick. It was a graceful movement that barely necessitated any use of energy. Another light tap on his arm and Syryn felt like a popped balloon that had lost its air.

"Fucking anti mages." He growled under his breath.

He was being tested by this man. He could tell from how his opponent\'s attacks were all harmless and meant to dismantle Syryn\'s flow of power. Their battle dance was an exchange of attacks that switched Syryn on and off and it incensed the half-demon. Heaven had truly been partial to those born as anti mages!

"You\'re holding back." The man observed in a pleasantly generic tone.

No shit, Syryn thought. As if he could unleash his full capacity in the open without repercussions. Syryn had a good sense of danger and his gut was telling him to be wary of this mystery individual. There was a wicked intelligence he read in the man\'s cold black eyes.

"Anti mage, your hound attacked me first. Don\'t you think I deserve compensation?" Syryn asked.

"Dani does not attack strangers unprovoked." The newcomer replied still in that neutral tone. They had stopped fighting and were now facing each other. One tense and the other exuding an aura of calm confidence. Syryn was anxious and stressed from still being lost and also getting late for the first day of school. As much as it went against his nature, he chose to back off.

"I\'m getting late for school. Leash your hound before it kills someone." Syryn coldly informed the man and turned to leave.

"You\'re going the wrong way."

Syryn stopped in his tracks and turned to the stranger. His day couldn\'t get any worse, he thought. Of course, this way lead him straight into the forest. Any reply he gave would have just sounded like an excuse.

"King Hill? I can give you a ride." The dark-haired stranger said levelly before turning to walk off. The whining hellhound that was acting cute blinked at Syryn and lopped off after its master.

Leaving a good distance between them, Syryn followed the man to his hound drawn coach. One massive canine was already tethered to the coach. The runaway hound wagged its big bushy tail and was tethered with a gentle pat on its back. Syryn couldn\'t help but notice how the man had long pale fingers that were artistic but also strong.

"Get in, we\'re getting late." The man told Syryn.

He said \'we\', and not \'I\', Syryn observed. He took a step inside and noticed how the interior was simple but luxuriously furnished. Like the owner, the colours were muted and dark.

The stranger\'s strength was still an unknown variable to Syryn. He had perfect control over his powers and had wrapped himself in it without any leak that would give away hints to the wary Syryn. Their fight and the way he had handled the boy left Syryn feeling unresigned. He determinedly stared out through his window when he felt the man getting seated next to him. The scent of fragrant ink hung about the anti mage. Syryn guessed that he looked at least 18 years old, if not 20.

The good looking stranger sat in complete and unnerving silence throughout the ride. Both occupants were busy with their thoughts and neither made a move to speak to the other. When they finally got to the tall gates of King Hill, Syryn hopped out and left not even bothering to thank the man. The coach then made off without the anti mage disembarking.

"Syryn Nigh\'hart, you\'re late." The homeroom teacher looked down through her glasses and frowned at the new student who had begun the first day with tardiness. When the student stared back in silence, the teacher pressed her lips together and pointed with the quill.

"Go sit with Magnus."

"You saved a seat for me?" Syryn whispered after taking his seat.

"Yup. Thanks to you I finally have an excuse to avoid someone." Magnus drawled. His lazy looking eyes were droopy despite it being the first period of class.

"Who?"

"You\'ll know later." Magnus scrawled something on a piece of paper and rolled it up. With a flick of his wrist, it landed gently on Alka\'s desk. The green-eyed mage quickly shoved the paper ball under his desk where he could read it privately. The effects of Syryn\'s blood had all but disappeared and Alka was back to his calm self.

The class of Magical Ethics was a boring one for Syryn. He found his mind drifting to thoughts of the man that morning. An anti mage with such precise control over his powers rivalled future Rowan\'s ability at the same. Who was he? Did Syryn know of him in the past? With his mind in a loop that came back to the same individual no matter how much his thoughts strayed, Syryn was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of the bell.

The next teacher hadn\'t arrived yet and Magnus was more awake. "Ethics class has to be the worst way to start the day." He grumbled to Syryn.

"Magnus, it\'s so wonderful to see you after such a long holiday." The cloyingly sweet voice of a female classmate disturbed their conversation. Syryn flicked his gaze up and saw a pink-haired girl that smiled at his friend with a blush dusting her fair cheeks. \'Someone\' - his mind supplied, and suddenly Magnus\' words made sense to Syryn.

Without acknowledging her, Magnus stretched and then looked away. Now Syryn was left in a bubble of awkwardness that surrounded the ignored girl. "So you\'re the person he was saving his seat for." She smiled at him. It wasn\'t a friendly smile.