Fenn, Lily and Mary appeared at the Council’s chamber with a snarled curse and a watcher’s reedy laughter to announce his entrance. Fenn found the source of the aggravating noise and immediately lashed out with a large arm.

The watcher danced back as if expecting the blow – and it likely had. The thing probably invited such assaults on its person daily. “Careful, mutt. You stand in the presence of your betters. You better tuck your tail between your legs before your luck runs out.” With that, the thing retreated into the ranks.

Fenn was tempted to pursue. He did not know if whatever protection had been afforded to the demon ceased within this realm. It very well might have, judging from the fact that it had bothered avoiding his attack, but the gesture may very well have been another taunt. He managed to restrain himself, glaring out at the retreating figure. Even if he could not tell one watcher apart from another, that was a scent he would remember. 

After a moment, the demon allowed himself to study his surroundings. The molten landscape and comfortable heat brought back memories of older times, a nostalgia Fenn would have dwelt on in other circumstances. In the safe confines of his mind, sentimentality was a trap the old demon allowed himself to fall into occasionally, but it had no room there. The three demonic visages carved into rock and the alien pressure exuding from them assured him of that.

As expected from the watcher’s words, others had been summoned along with them. He remembered most of them from the seal’s cavern, though there were a few others as well. Observers, much as him and Lily had been? Perhaps.

The Council’s voice echoed through the cavern. The dog found his jaw setting, his frown narrowing into a scowl. Already there were others voicing their agreement or dissent – and why would they hesitate? The Imp herself had set out to ask about rewards, like a haggler in the marketplace. 

Here was one of the oldest powers of the universe offering to aid them in doing something most had chosen to do on their own. [i]Not offering. Asserting authority[/i]. Yet, their command, the threat used was… empty. Eventual annihilation? Everything faced that in time. Some of those gathered in this place would be dead come the next century simply due to natural causes, and the two demons’ existence had ever been one perched on the edge of doom. There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, that the choice offered to those present held a hidden edge, something that only doubled as he saw the lead watcher marking some of the other’s foreheads. 

It was difficult doubting the power held by the molten statues, but could the same be said about their influence in the current proceedings? 

Another glance at those present let him reorganize his thoughts. Everyone in the chamber had been present in the conflict in the tunnels, but perhaps the idea that everyone involved in the conflict in the tunnels (barring hell’s recruiter, the white haired half demon and the snake – though then again those could not truly be considered outcasts to their cause, could they?) was present in the chamber, being given this choice, was the more poignant thought.

Where had been the Council’s forces? The lead watcher claimed their most powerful enforcers would not set foot on Earth unless they meant to destroy it, but the idea struck him as absurd. It left the Council powerless over whatever happened in that realm. It left the seals at the mercy of whoever found them. Unless they found those who gathered to protect them, and made them their own. Suddenly, the Council had gained new enforcers, and the chance to influence events on Earth. Was that all this was? A power game hidden behind a noble cause?

The answer given by the lead watcher, prompted by the heads of the Charred Council, seemed to confirm his suspicion. ‘As long as you remain in our favor’ was a pleasant manner of saying, ‘as long as you serve’. All the services this Council would be able to provide demanded a commitment far beyond the protection of the seals.

Fenn found the idea of submitting himself in servitude to beings that had bowed their heads in favor of an imagined notion of cosmic balance almost physically repulsive. This would be a master that would survive him, and abnegate everything he had learned throughout his life. It would not be a reason to be. It would be a slow death.

Damn him, this would not be the first time his pride led him to perilous waters for no good reason.

“I have proffered my allegiance once today. I shall do so no more,” Fenn spoke, his gravelly voice carrying well in the chamber’s interior, as though he was used to entertaining audiences. 

The dog shook his head slowly, then gestured at Lily. He had to ignore the irony burgeoning in his mind that, were it not for her, he would have participated in the seal’s destruction. Perhaps this meeting would not have come to pass if he had simply tried to gut her where she stood in the tunnels. “My duty is to this one. Should she choose in your favor, I shall aid her, but that will be the extent of my commitment.” He directed a scowl at the lead watcher. He had been tracking him, as well as motion from the other specters around him out of the corners of his eyes. The dog’s ears were propped and alert. “Know that if you or any of yours seek to brand me, Watcher, I will take an arm in exchange.”