Path to Camel 4 (Patreon)

Path to Camel 4

Soren Gremory

I looked at the young woman who’d been brazen enough to grope a stranger. She was exactly my type. Not because of the groping thing, but because she saw a fuck-massive, blood-red camel and thought, “Fuck it, let’s ride.” The sheer nerve of her appealed to me, which I supposed was a good sign that my Path had been on the right track.

She was beautiful in a way that hinted at a supernatural heritage. Most mortal women spent exorbitant amounts of money for that perfect, airbrushed look she pulled off effortlessly. Some even succeeded, but I doubted any of them could have run through the desert and come off looking half as good as she did.

She had expressive, almond eyes and chestnut-brown hair that cascaded in tight waves down to her mid-back. Her skin sported a healthy tan, with an olive tone that suggested a Mediterranean origin. She had an athletic figure that could only have come from hours of dedicated exercise.

She was also wearing what I could best describe as an Arabian harem girl outfit. Her poofy pants were in varying shades of green, with gold embroidery in the shape of pouncing lions. Her top exposed her midriff and shoulders. Just about the only practical thing about her outfit was the thick, high-quality leather belt which included a harness and clasp for her sword.

She looked as if she just stepped out of a photoshoot for a live action Aladdin. Of course, I hadn’t agreed to take her away from there just because she was a looker. Though I still wondered if she was to be my Queen, the sword at her hip proved she was a worthy investment nonetheless.

I could feel it; it practically hummed with power. If I had to guess, the sword was holy, though not in the same way an angel’s light was holy. Its power almost seemed to be warning me, not with hostility that threatened to purge the devil, but with a cautious protectiveness that shrouded its wielder. If I had to guess, it was a holy weapon belonging to another faction, one that lacked direct animosity towards devils.

“So, we are away,” I told her. I gently picked her up with a telekinetic hand and set her down on the grass. “My name is Soren Gremory, what’s yours?”

“Ah, umm…” she trailed off. She looked around at her surroundings, trying to adjust to suddenly being in my family’s verdant garden. She ran her fingers through my lawn as if she’d never felt grass before. “Where… Where is this place?”

“We are in the Gremory estate, down in the Underworld. You asked that I take you away, but failed to specify the destination. I chose for you.”

“That… The Underworld?”

“Yes. Hell, in other words. Doesn’t look much like you’d been told, does it?”

“It’s so… green…” she marveled. And, to be fair, it was. Father hired more than enough gardeners to make it so.

“What’s your name, girl? I can hardly call you ‘Princess Jasmine’s sexy handmaiden’ forever, can I?”

“Y-You never called me that!”

“And the best way to ensure I never do would be to provide me a name.”

“I’m Aylin, Aylin bint Arsalan. And you are a very rude camel.”

“Again, Soren Gremory. It’s a pleasure, Aylin.” She looked at me awkwardly. When I said nothing else, she began to tear up the grass aimlessly. “And you’re the one being rude.” 

“W-What? How am I rude?” she asked indignantly.

“If you’re going to tear up the grass, you could at least do the decent thing and eat it,” I drawled as I put action to words and lazily scooped up a mouthful. Chewing slowly, I deadpanned at her, “You’re wasting food, and therefore a very rude guest.”

She stared at her hands, then quickly stopped touching the grass. “I’m not a camel.”

“And therefore wasting food. Thus, rude.”

“S-Sorry…”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” I said, nudging her shoulder with a psychic shove.

“So… Now what?”

“I was waiting for you to explain yourself. I was enjoying a nice nap, only to be woken up by some girl in a harem girl outfit slapping my ass. Is that okay? Can I grope you, too?”

Heat crept back into her cheeks. “Y-You cannot, you pervert!”

“I wasn’t the one who spanked a stranger’s ass so who’s the pervert, hmm?” I countered with facts and logic.

“You’re a camel!”

“Devil, actually, and what’s that matter? Are you a pervert and a racist? Or maybe into some kinky fun times of the four-legged variety? May I say one more time, welcome to Hell. I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

Her face was atomic. If I teased her any more, she’d probably develop the Phenex hellfire through sheer embarrassment. Which was how I knew I’d chosen the right Queen. A Queen should be fun to hang out with, after all.

Then, all the energy seeped out of her in a moment. She slumped forward with a depressed sigh. “Maybe I deserved that…”

I groaned internally. Comforting dejected women wasn’t exactly my strong suit. I didn’t know a single guy who was good at it, for that matter. “Hey, don’t say that,” I said gently. “I was just joking with you.”

“I belong with you, demon. Here, in Hell, where faithless daughters go.”

“Demons and devils aren’t the same thing, actually. But please, start from the beginning. Tell me why you were running, and from who.”

The story came out, haltingly and in quiet whispers. Aylin did not cry, for which I was grateful, but her face contorted in great sorrow. Aylin bint Arsalan. She’d said her name proudly, and it was only now that I understood why.

It was a weighty name. “Arsalan” meant “fierce warrior” or “lion” alternatively. More importantly, it was the name of Amir Arsalan, a legendary hero of Persian folklore. Her parents had told her tales of that hero, recorded in the Shahnameh, ever since she could understand the words.

Though her parents were mere dancers in a traveling troupe, she grew up fantasizing about the possibility of being descended from that prestigious line. She practiced the sword dance her father taught her until she knew the motions better than he did. The day he allowed her to wield their family’s heirloom sword was the best day of her life.

And then, tragedy struck. A group of rogue mages intercepted the dance troupe as it was heading to a new city. They killed many in the troupe, but her parents managed to escape in the chaos.

They fled all across Turkey, from Istanbul to the southern regions. While on the run, they told her the truth: Her father was of the line of the fabled hero. Her mother was an ifrit, a mid-rank djinn. She was a halfbreed and the Shamshir-e Zomorrodnegar, the “Emerald-Encrusted Sword,” was her birthright.

The rogue mages hired a band of mercenaries to hunt her family down. Her parents died holding off the mages, leaving her to flee from the hired guns with the sword. As her mother bade, she fled into the desert, for “the sun and sands are friends to the djinn.”

She ran and ran and ran some more. Sandstorms rose in her wake to obscure her passing. Scorching rays only seemed to guide her along with heat shimmers that pointed her towards oases. As her mother said, the desert had been her friend and shelter.

That was how Aylin bint Arsalan became aware of the supernatural world. With the death of all that she’d known, and the awakening of a legacy that even most of the supernatural world thought lost to time.

“That is my tale, devil,” she said morosely, though she still refused to cry. “I am a faithless daughter, a daughter who allowed her parents to bleed for her. Do with me what you will, only permit me to recover and return to the surface.”

“What will you do if I send you back?” I asked, knowing the answer.

Her eyes hardened with resolve. She gripped the hilt until her hand turned white. “I will train. I will seek them out. And I will slay them to the last. If this sword truly did belong to the great hero Arsalan, and his blood flows in my veins, then I will kill them all. I will settle this debt until my parents can rest in peace. Then… Then you may do with me as you please.”

I shook my head sadly. What was it about peerage candidates and tragic backstories? Pretty much everyone Rias was scheduled to recruit also had a shit time, too. Was my family just destined to pick up strays?

I put those thoughts aside and rested my head on her lap. I didn’t fit, she was so much smaller than me, but I managed to nudge her tummy comfortingly.

“It’s okay to cry, Aylin. It’s okay to mourn,” I said gently.

“I will not. Not until I kill them all.”

“And what if I tell you that I don’t want your soul? What if I want you?”

“I… If my chastity can buy my parents the rest they deserve, then it is yours, devil.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. She was earnest, but so over the top. “Hah! Hahaha!”

“Y-You mock me?” she squawked indignantly. She tried to rise but my camel head alone was too heavy for her.

“Sorry, sorry. I think there’s been a great misunderstanding.”

“What? Send me back and I will kill them all!”

I pressed her down gently with a psychic grip. “Shh, listen, Aylin. Let me explain. For starters, I did not mean that I want your body. I meant that I want your service.”

“How is that different?”

“Look around, Aylin. See that the Underworld is not a burning wasteland of misery and suffering. Now, let me tell you about the society devils have built. I am Soren Gremory, second son of Duke Zeoticus Gremory, one of the Seventy-Two Pillars. As a noble devil, I am granted many privileges, but the one I want to tell you about is called a peerage…”

X

She looked at me with a mixture of confusion and cautious optimism. Her eyes fell to the glowing chess piece on the ground. The choice was hers, in the end. “So… You’ll help me. You’ll train me, teach me about magic, and introduce me to people who can teach me swordsmanship.”

“That’s right,” I agreed wholeheartedly. Ifrit? Bloodline of a legendary hero? A named holy sword? There wasn’t a devil in the world who wouldn’t want her; this girl was stacked. “All those things are beneficial for me as well. My Queen should be powerful. I won’t deny you an opportunity for growth without a very good reason.”

“And when I’m strong enough to handle a rogue mage association, you’ll let me go back to the surface?”

“Calling the mortal plane ‘the surface’ isn’t quite accurate, but your incomplete understanding of multidimensional geography aside, yes. Hell, I’ll even go with you. We can go right now if you want.”

“R-Right now?”

“Of course. I’m more than strong enough to wipe out some no-name mage association by myself.”

“How do you know? You’ve never even met them,” she said skeptically.

I gave her a judgmental sideeye. “Aylin, you have some natural advantages at navigating the desert as a half-djinn, but you’re still not any stronger than a human girl. The fact that they couldn’t catch you in a week and had to hire mundane mercenaries to chase you down tells me all I need to know.”

“You… You’d just go up there and kill them all? Just like that?”

“No, not ‘just like that.’ You’re giving me your eternal loyalty and friendship. You’re effectively promising to become a part of my extended family, maybe even be my concubine in the future. I don’t think you’ve fully processed how old devils can get.”

“I… No. I don’t want you to kill them.” She shook her head. Contrary to her words, she picked up the queen piece anyway. She looked me in the eyes. “I want to do it myself. I’ll be your Queen. I’m yours. Just… When I’m ready?”

“When you’re ready,” I repeated. I gently pressed the piece into her chest. She didn’t resist. “It shouldn’t take long. Under Souji? Just train hard for… a month at most? Yeah, sounds about right.”

“That… I accept.”

The process was swift and painless. There was no grand ceremony, just a simple flicker of my family sigil. Her wings, made of demonic energy, fluttered behind her as her body acclimated itself to its renewed state.

She looked down at her hands with mild surprise. “That’s it? I feel… I mean, I feel great, but…”

“Were you expecting your veins to burn? Feel corrupted? Maybe get a hankering for human flesh?” I asked dryly.

“Uh… Would you be offended if I said yes?”

“A little.”

“I mean, a part of me thought you might be lying.”

“And you still took the evil piece.”

“As long as I can get revenge, anything else is fine,” she said firmly.

I noted that for later. It seemed my new Queen had a single-minded focus. That was both a good and bad thing. “Don’t be so eager to promise your life away like that. I’m not a cruel master, but I very well could have been.”

“Fine. What now?”

“Now? Now I introduce you to the family.”

“A family… of camels…?”

I let out a snort of laughter. “Believe it or not, devils are born humanoid. My family members all look human. I have a human form, too.”

“Wait, you do?”

“I do. Would talking to a human make you more comfortable?”

“Probably, yeah…”

“So be it then.” So saying, I allowed the magic that formed my transformation to unravel. A crimson light covered me, giving me just enough time to pose heroically with my hands on my hips. “Is this better?”

Aylin went from “resolute avenger” to "embarrassed schoolgirl” faster than my brother’s Knight could draw his sword. Her olive cheeks took on an atomic blush. “P-Put some clothes on!”

“Hmm? Didn’t you want me to take my human form?”

“You’re naked, you idiot!”

“I was naked as a camel, too,” I pointed out, quite reasonably in my opinion. “What were you expecting?”

“That’s that and this is this!”

“Admit it, I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

That wasn’t an empty boast. Devils were creatures of raw magic. As a devil, I passively took on a form that I personally found appealing. That was true as a camel, and also true as a human. I supposed nothing was keeping me from manifesting clothes, but a Gremory had no reservations concerning nudity. 

I towered over Aylin, and most humans, at six and a half feet tall. My training with Surtr had sculpted my physique to absolute perfection. As a camel, that made me much girthier than even the magical specimens my family raised. As a human, that meant I looked like I could model for Greek statues.

The thick, shaggy fur that Rias loved to run her fingers through became hair. Much like my brother, I preferred to let it hang past my shoulders, forming a crimson curtain. Though, unlike Sirzechs, my hair had a distinctly wilder look that I preferred.

I chuckled with amusement. “You know, you’re not exactly hiding much with that harem girl outfit, either.”

“This is for performances!” she yelped, face somehow growing even redder. If she blushed any harder, she’d give my hair a run for its money. “You’re an exhibitionist!”

“I am,” I replied shamelessly. “And why shouldn’t I be? I’m a devil. And sexy.”

“I–”

“Aylin, you’re my Queen now. You’ll be spending a lot of time around devils. Please understand that the social norms you were raised with will likely only be received with mockery. My family will understand, but you will have to meet other devils eventually.”

“I… I get it,” she said after a deep breath. She studied my smirking face. Her eyes flickered down, but she managed to maintain eye contact for the most part. She accused, “You just like watching me squirm.”

“Guilty~ But two things can be true at the same time. Now, come on, I really do want to introduce you to my family.”

“Then we can start training?”

I smiled widely. She really was a girl after my own heart. “Of course. We’ll go back to the human world in a month or so.”

“Will a month really be enough?”

“Yes? Aylin, I wasn’t joking when I said your attackers are probably laughably weak. It’s a minor miracle that they cottoned on to the sword you’re carrying without getting subsumed by a bigger faction.”

“Still… Can I really get strong enough to avenge my parents in a month?”

“My brother is Lucifer. His Knight will be your tutor. Okita Souji is a peerless swordsman who is considered the fastest and most skilled Knight in the Underworld. Trust me, under a master like that, it’d be downright weird if you couldn’t get strong enough.”

“True… A good master can make all the difference. Very well, my King. Let’s go meet your family.”

Author’s Note

Congrats to people who guessed her background. For whatever reason, DxD is very light on lore surrounding the Near East. It’s almost like Jews and Muslims don’t really exist, never mind the other ethnic groups.

Welp, that just means it’s free real estate for me. A djinn-human hybrid sounded really cool. No, not like the Robin Williams genie, more like the creature of Arabian mythology. There are actually several tiers of djinn, with ifrits, being about middling despite being the most well-known. 

Soren has about as much care for nudity as Rias does, which is to say, zero.

Animal Fact: Some species of butterflies, typically hawk moths, will engage in a behavior called “puddling.” This is when they gather around pools of fluid to drink. This pool can be water, tears, or even the blood of mammals.

They do this for the same reason animals like deer and kangaroos lick rocks. They need the sodium, amino acids, and other nutrients that can be hard to find with their standard, nectar-based diet.

Also, males are more likely to engage in this behavior than females because these nutrients are crucial to the development of sperm and pheromones for attracting mates.