The Demon Lord and his Hero

Coop had a jeweller who bought stolen gold and silver from the pirates. He used it to fashion jewellery and decorations that were then sold to merchants at a price that was lower than what was commanded at distant markets. It was good business. He paid his taxes to Bella and lived as comfortable a life as was possible on the island. There were the occasional breaks in but that was what he kept his pets for. Five very poisonous snakes with thick armour-like skin were hidden in the shop and they did their jobs very well. Dozens of robbers had died trying to steal from the jeweller. The others had learnt their lessons after that. Now nobody dared to attempt a robbery.

Heavy knocking on his door roused the sleeping jeweller. Late-night visits were never good news, not even on Coop Island. Especially on Coop island. He slowly pushed open his window and peeked down at the door expecting to see a rowdy gang.

"What do you want?" Even he had heard about these two. It wasn't often that Coop received such visitors. Bella's side of the island was buzzing with rumours about the gorgeous merchants who were also purportedly a couple.

Rowan looked up to the window open on the upper floor of the building. A surly looking middle-aged man was starting down at them with suspicion.

"We're here to buy rings," Rowan said in a friendly tone.

"This late in the night?"

"I told you, Ro. We should have waited for tomorrow."

"We're doing this now, Ryn," the anti mage replied. He turned back to the curious jeweller. "I swear upon the goddess that we're not here to kill or steal from you. We just need two rings."

The man leaned out the window on his elbows. "Are you getting married tomorrow?"

"An engagement. I wanted come by tomorrow but Rowan over here insisted that we get the rings tonight." This time it was Syryn who replied. They were here anyway, and even the jeweller seemed interested in their business.

The middle-aged man paused to think about it. Looking between Rowan and Syryn, he made up his mind. "Alright, I'll be down in a moment."

____

The jeweller presented Rowan and Syryn with a case of his best rings. There were gold and silver rings embedded with fancy looking gems that came in many colours. Rowan thought them much too gaudy for him. 

"Do you have anything simpler?" He asked the jeweller. 

The man was offended by the enquiry. His rings were beautiful. Why wouldn't anyone want to get engaged wearing such pretty gems?

"How about this?" He pulled out a small box from a corner drawer and lifted the lid to show the blond what lay inside.

It was a pair of simple gold rings without any embellishment on them.

"Yeah, I like these," Syryn piped in.

Rowan agreed. "Size them now," he told the jeweller. "And engrave our names on them."

"Now??" The jeweller's voice was pitched. "It's too late now-"

Rowan placed a whole ingot of gold on the table. "Now."

The jeweller's eyes were glued to the gold ingot. Even without testing it, he was sure of its purity.

"And if you can get it done within the hour," Rowan said to the jeweller while pulling out another ingot from his dimensional ring. "This will also be yours."

The jeweller frantically grabbed the gold rings and ran into his workshop. He came running back out and shoved a piece of paper towards Rowan. "Write your names here!"

Syryn was sitting on one of the three chairs that were in the jeweller's shop. He watched Rowan's quill swirl across the paper which he then handed over to the jeweller.

The man then measured Syryn and Rowan's sizes with a string that he tied around their fingers. "Please wait, sirs. I'll do it in half an hour!"

Greed was a hell of an incentive, Syryn thought. And why was Rowan carrying around gold ingots?

He raised his brow at the anti mage and meaningfully looked at the gold ingots on the table.

"It's more convenient while crossing borders," Rowan explained. "Not everyone is willing to accept crowns."

It made sense. "How many ingots are in there?" Syryn's gaze drifted to the dimensional ring on Rowan's finger.

"Not a lot," came the evasive reply.

Syryn didn't believe that. "How many, Rowan?"

The blond sank into the chair beside Syryn. He turned to the mage and shrugged. "At least ten."

Syryn wasn't falling for that. He narrowed his eyes at the anti mage. "And at most?"

"A thousand, I guess."

"What?! That's-" Syryn looked around like he suspected they were being eavesdropped upon. "What do you do for a living?!"

"I work for the Sanguine," Rowan replied.

"And?"

"I inherited a sizable fortune which I invested into a few business ventures." The anti mage appeared discomfited by the conversation about his wealth. Well, Syryn didn't care. If Rowan was going to flaunt his gold ingots then he better man up to talk about how wealthy he actually was.

"You're a nobleman," Syryn accused.

"You make it sound like a crime, Ryn."

"What's your title, Rowan? How many fiefs do you own? Are you secretly promised to a noblewoman?"

Rowan cleared his throat nervously. Syryn had come close to the truth. He was promised to the priestess of Eos, not that he was letting it happen this time.

"I am promised in marriage to whomever Eos chooses." This close to exchanging vows, Rowan felt that it was only fair for Syryn to know the truth.

"Eos? Is that your mother?" Syryn asked, looking annoyed.

"No. It's complicated. I'm going to introduce you to Eos so she chooses you, Ryn. She already knows who you are."

Syryn smiled. "Yeah? How do you know she'll choose me?"

"I asked her, Ryn."

"And she agreed?"

"I think she did."

Syryn shook his head. "You have to be sure!"

The blond felt a twinge in his stomach. Would Syryn still be this happy about it when he remembered?

"She already likes you, Ryn."

The mage settled back into his chair and pretended he wasn't embarrassed about it.

"Good," he replied and tangled his fingers nervously. He had just met Rowan and was already rushing into the relationship like he'd known the man forever. But that was it, he and Rowan weren't actually strangers. They were childhood friends, right? Syryn glanced at the blond who was ruminating in his own thoughts. Syryn hoped he wasn't going to regret this when he remembered.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Rowan asked him softly. "If you regret it later, Ryn, you can throw away the ring. This isn't irreversible."

The mage snorted. "So much for what you said about killing anyone that gets between us."

Rowan smiled. "That still stands, Ryn. I don't need a ring to know you're mine."

"Then why are we getting rings?"

"To let the other suitors know that you're mine."

"What other suitors?" Syryn asked curiously.

"You attract them like bees to honey. I'll be glad to have a ring glued to your finger."

The mage stared at Rowan's unearthly face. Wasn't Syryn a bee attracted to Rowan's honey? Rowan wasn't saying it but he had his own suitors. Syryn was sure of that.

"Yeah, we need rings."