Four is considered unlucky in some eastern cultures because of an association of it to death. Isn’t it fitting then that there are four demon races? Dysnom always found it so. Four races, four rulers aligned to four times. Today with these four monarchs are four ‘peacekeepers’ to discourage riots, keep control and of course to protect their sovereigns. The dark haired wolf always found it laughable. The races should have split the directions too. He would not mind if the werewolves called dibs on the west.
The peacekeeper of the wolves walks into the auditorium. Most of his pack has broken off and dispersed into the audience, making the group look smaller than it is. Dysnom only walks with two others behind him. His form black pants, brown boots, and a sleeveless long coat. His arms and chest remain bare for the world to see with only the two necklaces on his skin, swaying back and forth. Amber pupils flicker back and forth between the leaders whom sit in the middle of the auditorium, a round table in between them. His head turns to look at the young wolf behind him. A scrawny form with dusty brown hair. He motions to the boy to look ahead. “This is your first time here so get a good look. All four sovereigns meeting like this is a once in lifetime event. You don’t see so many high ranking demons here in one place unless we’re killing each other. Although I guess that could still happen.” Dysnom snickers. The young boy looks around unsure of who is who.
“Man. I usually don’t hang out with greenhorns like you. Ya lucky Stycks likes you.” the pack leader grumbles out before motioning with his chin towards each of the leaders around the table. “You have Aria, the Queen of the Night. You already know our majesty, Lunar Queen Miranda. Then there is Ciera, the Daylight Empress. Opposite her is the Sun God, Sun King really…” the older male’s voice trails off as he looks at the seating. His sharp eyes stare at the form. A man with chocolate colored skin. Not one hair on his head, but a gold ring piercing in his brow as well as two gold spiked piercings in each ear. Most distinguishing the dark red pupils that stare ahead at each person around the table. This is Efrit’s human form.
“But that’s not the Djinn King…” the dark haired wolf thinks. Efrit is no demon to scoff at or write off. He is a good representative for them. But wouldn’t Djinn king come to such an important meeting? Or is he really blowing it off as Dysnom has heard he has done in the past to other relevant meetings? “You two go take a seat. I’m going over here.” the wolf says walking to a seat in a different direction from his subordinates. As the amber eyed wolf man sits next to a vampire with headphones on, his ruler keeps a warm smile on her face.
Unlike the others at the table Miranda is much older. Not by actual number, but by passage of time. Not being immortal has allowed this woman to make it to old age. Her hair white as the moon she loves, her cream skin wrinkled, creased and sagging at different places due to time. Sapphire eyes cloudy and no longer as vibrant as they once used to be. But Miranda never feels her age is a penalty. Quite the opposite. The woman finds her age a blessing because her perspective is different from the beings around the table, whom are near everlasting. There are things in the world they cannot perceive, but her eyes and ears can.
“You know. We should upgrade this place. Give it a new age ambiance. Some surround sound speakers. A few flat screens. A blood fountain or two. Well that can be talked about another day. How shall we start this debate dear rulers of demons?” Miranda says warmly, her chin resting upon her fingers.