Azazel was indeed a being known for fits of near-cataclysmic rage, but as Piren spoke cautiously of his deductions and possible courses of action, the Demon King merely sat and listened with the sort of patience wrought from over three-thousand years of life.  He shifted almost imperceptibly at the mention of the Blessed's renewed ferocity and the possibility of a newly constructed weapon.  But he did not interrupt the boy, apparently eager to hear his son speak his mind as fully and succinctly as possible.<br/><br/>He did not even move when Piren suggested the unthinkable, a plan that could not only fail spectacularly but possibly cripple the forces of the Cursed.  The Blessed were supposedly pure and venerable beings, but they were just as capable of treachery and dishonorable conduct as the lowliest of demons.  If anything they were simply more subtle with their devious machinations, cloaking their misdeeds in holy scriptures and pretentious ceremonies.  The only difference between the two sides was that the forces of Darkness brandished their sword for all to see, while the forces of Light kept daggers hidden in their sleeves.<br/><br/>A vacuum seemed to fill the chamber as soon as Piren finished his appeal for action.  The atmosphere was thick and laden with tension as Azazel stared directly into Piren's eyes without wavering.  He seemed to be daring the boy to take back his words or flinch away, to show even the slightest sign of weakness.  After what seemed like many long and painful minutes, he brought his hands just beneath his face and steepled them.  The sudden click of metal caused the unnatural silence to evaporate immediately, and the room itself seemed to sigh with relief.<br/><br/><em>Excellent deductions all, my dearest Son,"</em>he praised, his head tilting approvingly.<em>"You are every bit as perceptive as I had hoped.  Truly your Mother will be proud to learn that you have matured into such a fine specimen."</em><br/><br/>He said it almost casually, almost<em>teasingly</em>, as though he had sensed the boy's earlier hunger for knowledge.  But business was business, and he did not seem inclined to delve any further into that matter.  It did however reveal one tantalizing fact: she was still alive.<br/><br/><em>"What I am about to reveal to you is not widely known, but I consider you worthy enough to be enlightened."</em><br/><br/>He flicked his wrist as though batting away a fly, and a smaller granite throne heaved itself upwards at Piren's back.  It was similarly unadorned and looked hideously uncomfortable, but given his son's earlier description of such a chair it did not seem insulting.  It was, in fact, a compliment of the highest order.<br/><br/>Azazel motioned for him to sit before continuing, making it quite clear that the matter was of grave importance.<em>"There was a time, long before you were born, when I allowed my children to mate with one another.  To know the joys that come with siring a newborn of their own.  I now realize that this was a mistake.  I have since learned not to make them, but this was in earlier days when I was not entirely accustomed to my position."</em><br/><br/><em>"One of my sons, a man I named <strong>Ashen</strong>, became problematic.  He brought many Children into this world in secret, perhaps seeking to raise an army powerful enough to depose me through sheer strength alone.  It was an unintelligent plan that was doomed to failure from the start, but his arrogance has now come back to haunt us.  I know that you have surely researched the history of my rule in the past, my dear Piren, but there are some things I have chosen to omit.  Your siblings are cowed into submission, but I would prefer not to give them any foolish ideas."  </em><br/><br/>A sharp hiss sliced through the air like a knife, a brief instant of anger cut short.<em>"But it was not <strong>my</strong> child that vexed me.  It was <strong>his</strong>.  A boy named Asriel.  He was weak of body, much like you, but unlike you he was stricken with a most unfortunate affliction.  His eyes were blue, and his mind was incapable of understanding our ways.  I should have realized such a disgusting mutation might come from inbreeding, but I did not expect something of his nature.</em><br/><br/><em>"Beaten and ridiculed by his siblings and perhaps even Ashen himself, the boy apparently fled into the lands of the Blessed seeking asylum and understanding.  Even I do not know what occurred in his time abroad, but when he returned it was with vengeance burning in his heart, an army at his back, and the power of Light dancing from his fingertips.  He was an abomination, but he was also a symbol of hope for our enemies.  He showed them that it was possible for our kind to become <strong>pure</strong>.  And so, in his impudence, he assaulted my kingdom in search of his father."</em><br/><br/>Azazel shook his head slowly, the weight of distant memories pressing down upon his wide and mighty shoulders.<em>"I was not so powerful then as I am now, my son.  I was prone to acts of desperation, for I was vulnerable in those hoary days of youth.  Seeking to end Asriel's life, I sent Ashen, his children, and even my own against him in a single battle.  Throwing all my forces at a single target was a childish maneuver, but in the end it proved necessary.  Asriel killed Ashen and many of my children, but in the end he was bested.  Perhaps if I had risked an attack myself, if I had absorbed him with my own two hands, we would not be having this discussion now.  But the past is the past.  It is immutable."</em><br/><br/>He stared at Piren for a long moment.<em>"I assume you understand where this is leading, my son.  Asriel was not the only Child of Aurelis to become a traitor to his own kind, but he was the first.  Though I have since taken care to destroy the bodies of those that have been infected with his sense of justice, many of them vanished from the battlefield before I could do so.  Spirited away for an unknown purpose.  Until now."</em><br/><br/><em>"The Blessed would never call their actions mere <strong>necromancy</strong>, but what they are creating is indeed a force of those who should have remained dead.  I have sensed them, as I sense all those with the blood of Aurelis swimming in their veins.  Each one of these traitors-turned-martyrs were alone enough to pose a sizable threat to my Kingdom."</em><br/><br/>The gravity of the situation fully explained, Azazel stood from his throne.  He motioned for Piren to remain seated where he was as he paced off to one side, staring up into the face of an ancient tapestry.  On one side a figure brimming with blue light made his stand against a horde of darkness without the slightest sign of fear etched into his features.  Most would wonder why such a thing would hang in the Demon King's throne room when it seemed better suited for the halls of the Blessed, but the intention was clear.  Better to remember one's mistakes instead of shove them into the dark.<br/><br/><em>"I know that you realize that the Cursed and the Blessed have always been at war, my dear Piren.  Neither side has ever had the audacity to ask for peace, for we are both just as stubborn and ruthless.  There have been lulls in the conflict, but never anything so official as a ceasefire.  Our pride could not stand for it, for it would be an admission of weakness."</em><br/><br/>As he turned to look over his shoulder, one could almost see the cruel smirk growing beneath the unyielding mask.<em>"So we will have peace.  We will withdraw what forces we have stationed in their lands, and they from ours.  The Kraylik's will be considered neutral ground between us, though our forces are better suited to such harsh terrain.  We will show them clemency, and we shall show them understanding.  We will show them things that they thought alien to our kind.  We will show them that there is a possibility for change instead of mutual destruction." </em><br/><br/><em>"And when the time comes, I will personally wrench the heart from Asriel's chest."</em>