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It's a very unassuming entrance to a lair, to say the least. Barely an opening in the rock, embedded in the hillside, surrounded by weeping willows and flowing water. Seems more like a meditation garden than the home of a Demon Prince.

"Are you sure this is the right spot?" I ask Brex.

Brex, my orcish adventuring companion, pours over his notebook. Peering over his shoulder, I can't make out his chicken scratch handwriting. And I'm not entirely sure he can, either.

"Yeah, this is what the old woman described...Right at the delta, follow the river to a weeping willow grove, looks like a v-"

"It does not."

"Yeah it does. C'mon Sparky look, right up above the opening there's even a cl-"

"Fine, maybe it does," I say. "Let's just...go inside."

Brex nods, and I let him go first. I don't want to think about whatever strange implications this might have, let alone the symbolism involved. It's a tight fit, but we both make it through.

Now the interior...This looks like the lair of a Demon Prince.

Everything is carved into the stone: walls, floors, ceiling. Polished rock altars stand stout with old instruments of ritual on either side of us. It's difficult to see anything else, so Brex and I each cast a spell of light. His hovering and fluttering around his body, mine staying perfectly stationary on my hand. I feel a twinge on the left side of my face, on the marking the voidsent left when he entered into me. (Brex knows about the voidsent Batelroch and my complicated relationship with him. He was surprisingly understanding about it.)

Similar altars lead further down this chamber, which seems to be the whole of the lair itself. At the opposite end of the chamber there's a larger altar with a shining golden chalice underneath a crude assembly of animal horns and an orc skull.

"Not bad," Brex says. "This might be the easiest treasure yet."

"Stay on your guard," I say. "There might be something hiding here."

"Not a lot of places to hide in here," Brex says with a laugh.

We came looking for this place mostly because people will empty their purse for the right mix of premium materials and occultish mystery. And if there's one thing in here that qualifies, it's that chalice.

Keeping our progress slow and deliberate, we finally make our way to the grand altar of the chamber. There's something eerie about that effigy hanging above the chalice...I've never seen any animal with horns as big as the ones on display here. The shape sweeps back and then curls up, and I can't think of any fauna that benefit from such a strange horn shape.

Brex is already peering into the chalice itself. "Oh gross, there's some sludge in here."

"Well don't touch it."

He chuckles. "But I'm sooo thirsty."

I nudge him on the shoulder and roll my eyes.

"Hold on," he says. "There's something written on the altar here." He clears his throat, translating the orcish for me.

"When the demon-touched enters

And lifts the offering left for him

By the faithful awaiting his return

Then his power will emerge

And he will claim what rightfully belongs."

Brex cringes. "Spooky."

My blood runs cold. It's hard not to think that this text refers to me. After all, when you've got a voidsent living within you, that seems like a pretty obvious connection to being "demon-touched", as it said.

"Maybe you should carry the chalice," I say to Brex, tapping the side of my face with the voidsent marking.

He furrows his brow, then widens his eyes. "Oh, right. Yeah, probably for the best." He crouches down to get a better look at the chalice itself, then checks for curses and hexes, seemingly satisfied by the result of his spells. "I'll just...dump the sludge outside, maybe."

I lean in and have a look at this sludge he's talking about. Pure black, filling half the cup, without reflection or gloss. It's like the sludge is eating the light provided by our spells. Another shiver runs through me. "Maybe dump it in here. Don't give it a chance to spread outside, if it does that kind of thing."

"Good point," Brex says, clearly apprehensive. "Okay...here we go..."

He grabs the chalice and picks it up, the motion accompanied by a small clicking noise. There's a small shudder in the stone beneath our feet, and then the ground falls out from under us completely.

In less than a second, both of us yelp in surprise, falling into separate trap chutes, the clanging of the chalice fading away with Brex as our individual chutes separate. The chutes themselves are slick and cool, like polished icy rock. And in a moment, I find myself dumped into a new chamber and waist deep in viscous liquid.

I head for a raised platform in the middle of the chamber and climb on top of it, my lower body covered in sludge. The same sludge that was in the chalice, but in far greater quantity.

Ugh.

I catch my breath and call out for Brex, but I hear no answer. The room continues the same horned skull motif as the entrance chamber, but aside from the goop pooling around the sides like a moat, there's only this raised platform and a door further into the lair.

That chalice better be sturdy, I think to myself. If it broke in the fall, we'll have wasted this entire trip.

I grumble as I plod toward the door, pushing it open and finding a hallway behind it that turns down a corridor.

Bats, does any of this make sense to you, I ask Batelroch.

I do not recognize any of these markings or effigies, he says. That sludge is a substance of great power, though. This entire structure is pulsing with power now.

What do you mean 'now?'

Before you fell, the power was dormant. But something has awakened.

That's comforting, I say.

I expect there to be a more complicated layout, but it doesn't take me long to find the ladder that leads back up to the entrance chamber. I need to find Brex, though. So I make a note of the ladder as I head further down the corridor.

Just as I'm about to lose track of what direction I'm heading in, I find a door just like the one from the chamber I fell into.

I push against it and hold my light up.

There's a platform just like before, surrounded by the same sludge as ever. But standing at the center of the platform is someone I've never seen before. Green skin, obsidian spikes emerging from his back, shoulders, and arms. Two horns that sweep back, then up. Claws at his fingertips, he faces away from me, clearly naked.

"Who are you?" I ask.

He turns to face me, and I recognize those eyes. "Brex?"

He smiles. His face is different. His body somehow bigger. He lifts his hand and gestures toward me.

The door slams behind me, and when I turn around, it's as if it never existed. There is no exit to the room, or to the ladder that'll get us out of here.

"Brex, what are you doi-"

Another flick of his wrist and the sludge on my clothes hardens instantly, making it impossible for me to move my legs.

"How egotistical of you," he says in a much lower, much less cheery voice than before. "To think that the prophecy could only have spoken of you and your voidsent."

It's then that I catch a glimpse of his eyes, glowing bright and violet in my direction. My vision distorts as I watch them, begging a closer examination, but I resist and pull my gaze away, keeping my eyes shut.

"You were not the only demon-touched person to enter that chamber." His footsteps grow closer. He must be standing right in front of me. "I have been waiting in this orc's soul for a long time. Waiting to awaken."

"Where's Brex...What did you do with him? I'll...I'll bring him back, you monster," I say.

"Oh it was entirely consensual," he says. "It was an arrangement we made long ago. But I don't expect he understood the ramifications. However, he's as pleased with the result as I am."

"That...no..." I feel a churning in my gut. Did Brex lead me into a trap intentionally? Or did we both find ourselves drawing the short straw? Was Brex so understanding about me and my voidsent because of this bargain he'd struck?

"Don't look so disappointed, your life is only going to improve from this moment onward."

He grabs my face, finger to the voidsent marking at my cheek. A sudden, intense sensation flows through that marking, all through my body. I expected it to be pain, but it's...different. It feels...nice.

No, I have to resist this. I can't let his power into me.

He lets go of my face, my marking still tingling. "Open your eyes, my boy," he says.

Bats, I think. Bats, there's gotta be a way out of this. There's some void magic that can help me, isn't there?

Batelroch stays quiet for a moment while the demon formerly known as Brex urges me to open my eyes again. At last, Batelroch speaks.

Yield to him.

WHAT?

Yield to him. There is magic that could help you escape. But it is a slim chance upon another slim chance. I have seen his heart and his power. If you yield, he will bestow more power upon you.

I grunt, refusing to simply agree, trying to find some sort of compromise. Then I wonder if Batelroch has been corrupted himself somehow. Can I even trust him anymore?

It's that moment of doubt that gives the demon his opportunity, though. When he grabs my shoulder, i open my eyes out of instinct and make uninterrupted eye contact with him.

He's so much closer and his eyes are so much more beautiful than before. I can't look away. Even as my vision distorts, even as some part of my mind cries out that this is wrong and unnatural, I can't stop myself from fading into him. Just like when he touched my marking, I feel a surge of energy flowing into me through his gaze.

And then I feel connected, somehow, to the sludge inside this structure.

I can feel the demon will it to rise from the sides of the room and flow toward me, creeping under my clothes and sliding along my skin. And this time, it's welcome to embrace me. It feels right, and proper, to have this over my body. It will protect me. It will grant me more power.

"Your new power will come with a price," the demon says. I understand. When he speaks with such authority, it is simply the truth to me now. "I will be your Prince. Your Master."

"My Prince. My Master," I repeat.

The goo peels off my clothes and equipment, and I am now bare before my Master.

"You will be my thrall. My servant."

"Thrall...Servant..."

It swirls over my skin, causing a whole new wonderful sensation on my chest and back. I'm...getting stronger. Stronger than I was before. Stronger than ever.

Strength given to me by my Master.

"It is time to let go of the old you, as I have done with my former self."

"Let go," I repeat.

"It is time to be reborn in the image of the Demon Prince."

"Reborn."

"It is time to offer tribute to your Master. Show me your ability to worship."

"Worship."

He wills the goo around my body to have me kneel before him. And I soon understand what kind of worship he means.

Inches from my face is his throbbing, dripping cock, and I find myself filled with the urge to please it. I lift up my hands and start to stroke, feeling a palpable relief at finally touching Master's body.

He pushes his hips forward, pressing the wet tip to my head, in some wonderful and twisted version of anointing me. Then I wrap both hands around his generous length and stroke while putting my lips over the tip, sliding my tongue to catch the pre leaking from him.

It's far better than I could have imagined. I speed up the stroking a little more and push my mouth further down his length. He reaches out and touches my head, and I simply know that I am performing well for him. He's satisfied.

I feel a tingling at my scalp and soon two horns in a forward sweep emerge, framing my hair with the same black obsidian texture as Master's body spikes.

I push my mouth further down on his cock, amazed at my own ability to swallow so much of it. Perhaps he has blessed me with the ability to take all of him, or my devotion to him is giving me some sort of boon to serving him.

How it's possible doesn't matter to me, only that I'm proud of myself for sinking my face into his crotch, deepthroating his entire dick inside my mouth.

"Now, my servant. Give me release, so that I may give you the rebirth you deserve."

I nod as well as I can with a mouthful of cock and I start to bob my head back and forth on that length. Master assists my efforts by rolling his hips. The motions never trouble me. It's as though that dick flows naturally inside me once it goes past my tongue. Surely if he climaxes like this, he'll change me at my very core.

He grips my head tight and starts facefucking me. All I have to do is kneel and receive these intense sensations, given to my by my benevolent Master.

He grunts. "It is nearly time."

Time to create the unbreakable bond between Master and thrall.

He shoves his cock into my mouth and I can feel the seed flowing through it on my tongue. My mouth tastes of it, but I know it's been pushed deeper inside me than I can even comprehend.

There is some palpable shift in my mind and soul. His influence has reached my core.

The old me is gone. The new me, forever Master's thrall, is here.

I will serve him until time itself ends.