Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

carpeted the clearing floor, in the middle of which stood a single, rotting tree stump, roughly fashioned into the shape of a throne. And in that darkness, on that corrupt throne: the Demon Prince.
    In his way, the Demon Prince seemed human. He resembled a man, but his features were blurred, his delicate fingers ended in claws, and his burning crimson eyes showed no trace of human thoughts or feelings. He looked like a man because it amused him to do so. Once he had looked like something else, and might again, but for now he lived in the world of men. If lived could be applied to a creature that was never born.
    Even seated, he was obviously unnaturally tall, and slender to the point of emaciation. His pale flesh had a lambent pearly gleam, and he dressed in rags and tatters of purest black. He wore a battered, wide-brimmed hat, pulled down low over the eyes, and as he sat upon his throne like some terrible gore crow, he gnawed lazily at something that still feebly kicked and squealed. The Demon Prince had no need to eat but he liked to kill, and was compelled by his nature to terrify.
    Surrounding the rotting throne, filling the clearing like so many crooked shadows, lay the demons of the Darkwood, abasing themselves before their Lord. They sat or crouched or lay upon their bellies in the dirt, watching if they had eyes, listening if they had ears, or just . . . waiting. They were of the dark, and the dark was patient.
    A glowing silver sphere suddenly appeared before the throne, shimmering and pulsating as it floated on the stinking air. The Demon Prince smiled horribly, fresh blood trickling down his chin, and threw aside his meal. Two demons squabbled briefly over the remains. The Dark Lord beckoned languidly to the glowing sphere, and it drifted closer.
    'Master,' said a quiet voice from the sphere, and the Demon Prince grinned bloodily.
    'Yes, my dear traitor, I await your report.' His voice was soft, sibilant and subtly grating on the ear.
    'Prince Rupert and his party approach the boundary of your Kingdom, Master. They intend to pass through the long night on their way to the Dark Tower. You must stop them before they reach the High Warlock. . .'
    'He is of no consequence,' said the Demon Prince amusedly. 'No man can stand against the dark. Or perhaps you think otherwise?'
    He slowly closed one hand into a fist, and agonised screams echoed from the sphere. The waiting demons shifted uneasily, disturbed at any threat of violence from their Lord. The Demon Prince opened his hand, and the screams died away, to be replaced by laboured, tortured breathing.
    'I'm sorry, Master, I ...'
    'You forget your place, my dear traitor. Once, you sought power over me, but now your body and soul are mine, to do with as I please. Fail me, and I will transform you into the least of my demons. Obey me in all things, and all the kingdoms of the world shall be yours . . .'
    'Yes, Master. I am your most faithful servant.'
    'You are my slave.' The Demon Prince rested his chin on his bony hand and stared thoughtfully at the floating sphere. The wide-brimmed hat plunged his face into shadow, an impenetrable darkness in which only his burning eyes still showed. 'Well, traitor, do you have the Curtana?'
    'Yes, Master. It's safely hidden, here in the Castle.'
    The Dark Lord chuckled quietly, and the demons stirred. 'You have done well, dear traitor. Without that sword, they have no hope against me. I have the touchstone. I have the unicorn's horn. I have my pretty demons. And now, after all the many centuries, the Blue Moon rises, and my time comes round again.'
    'But what of the High Warlock, Master?'
    The Demon Prince closed his hand, and again screams rang from the sphere. 'For all his learning, and for all his power, the Warlock is just a man. I have faced such men before, and broken them at my pleasure.'
    He slowly opened his hand, and the screams stopped. For a time, the only sound in the clearing was the heavy, ragged breathing from the sphere. The Demon Prince smiled.
    'Return to my work, slave. Be my eyes and ears at Court. Be my darkness in the heart of their light.'
    The sphere shimmered and was gone, and once again darkness lay across the clearing, broken only by the dim blue glow of the phosphorescent lichens. The Dark Lord stared out over his waiting demons, and laughed softly.
    'Soon,' he promised them. 'Soon ...'

    Prince Rupert reined the unicorn to a halt, and stared grimly at the Darkwood boundary before him.
    Darkness