By the time Sentio got back from a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen-- one of the lady-dragons there liked him and always saved a little something for him-- Cacopheny was dressed in thin, black trousers that hung straight and loose around his long legs and a matching black shirt that was equally loose and comfortable-looking. His hair was damp, and he was running his claw-like fingernails through it, presumably trying to untangle it. He looked up from his seat on the floor beside the bedding-pile as the door came open and smiled a bit.

Welcome back, child, a sinister, venomous voice whispered. One of Cacopheny's "shadows". Cacopheny obviously heard it to, for he winced, but at least this time he didn't react by shutting down the connection between them, like he did the night before. That wasn't going to get either of them anywhere-- even if it would probably be easier. Those voices made Sentio's fur feel all bristly, when he heard them. It'd take a long time to get used to them, Sentio thought, and even longer to learn to ignore them.

Hopefully that's never.

It's not good to ignore people, you know.

::But you're not people,:: Sentio answered back as calmly as he could, coming the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door behind him. ::You're-- you're figments of Cacopheny's imagination who are just there to be mean to him.::

Are not!

We're here to help!

He's ours, little welp.

"Please-- jzusst iknore ssem," Cacopheny pleaded. "To not lisssen, ssey are not imp-imp-important."

Not important, are we!

Ungrateful!

Mongrel!

Slave!

Rotten pup!

"Shut up!" Sentio exclaimed, trotting across the room to Cacopheny, who had shrunk in on himself again, expression pained at the "shadows" hurled insults at him. They all fell silent with surprise at being commanded, as if they weren't used to it. Maybe they weren't; Cacopheny didn't seem to stand up to them, and no one else could hear them. In the mental silence, Sentio asked with an exasperation that, though he didn't quite feel behind his concern and no little fear at just what these "shadows" might be able to do, he might be able to convince himself of if he didn't think about the rest, "Are they always like this?"

Cacopheny nodded a bit, and whispered hoarsely, "Usually. Yess."

"Are you all right?"

Again a nod. "Yess. Use't to it. I am. You-- you arrrre not. Ssssorry."

"Don't be," Sentio said firmly, trying to look as adult as he could, despite being afraid and uncertain. "I chose this. I knew what I was getting into."

"Put you. You arrre afrait," Cacopheny protested, looking back at him and looking tortured, seeing past the front. Sentio should have known he would have, what with being able to hear thoughts and, even more so, being bonded. "You. C-coult not haff known. Known vat it vas leek."

"Well, I do now, and I'm not changing my mind," Sentio promised, dropping the adult pose and sitting down in front of him. "So stop worrying?" The hopeful, reassuring little smile drew an answering one out of the half-demon, as he relaxed a bit against the wall behind him, leaving his hair as it was.

"I vill. Trrrry," he promised, in return, and shut his eyes again. Sentio could sense him gathering up the willpower to continue-- he hadn't forgotten that he'd promised to talk about his own history, now, either that or Sentio's remembering had reminded him-- so he kept silent and waited. The voices were whispering, murmuring, but so far back in his bond's mind that he couldn't make out what they were saying, nor could he tell whether or not Cacopheny could understand them. At least they were easier to ignore, like that, but he could see exactly why Cacopheny was so unstable, if he constantly had that buzz of unintelligible conversation in the back of his thoughts, even when his voices weren't talking directly to him.

The silence grew longer. For a moment, Sentio was afraid that Cacopheny had somehow gotten distracted, or was too nervous to do as promised, but the moment he thought that, the half-demon shifted and shook his head. "Jzust... trrryingk to ssingk, how to sssay, how to sstart... iss harrrt. Haff neffer sssssspoken off et. Beforrre."

"Never?" That was surprising. Aloia knew, she had to, and Chiya and Ketvia knew, and that new kit Enyi at the bonding complex, who said she knew him.

"Neffer. Tchiya kot it. Got it. Out off my het. Tolt ssee ossers. Clossesst I dit vas to Aloia-- but vass zhadow, not me. Not ssee ssame."

I told her, one of the voices hissed. I wanted her to be scared. I wanted respect!

Cacopheny smiled faintly at the memory. "Zhe vas not affrait. Very calm. Zhe vass." 

The thought that the "shadows" could do anything at all was disturbing-- what did they do, take Cacopheny's body and talk through it?

Among other things, one of the other voices murmured. They all sounded just a little different, as if there really were a hoarde of people inside his bond's head-- that one was silky and pure evil. Sentio hurried to change the subject.

"So what did you-- or him-- or it-- say?"

"Vass not mutch," Cacopheny answered slowly. "Jzust... jzust... a little ap-bout Her." There was a capital letter in that word, an importance that made Sentio shudder.

"Who was she?"

Is She.

Not was.

Is.

"Mistress," Cacopheny said shortly, barely sibilant at all. His hands were shaking until he clasped them to his arms again, hugging himself in his habitual pose, and his eyes had gone unfocused. Sentio couldn't even begin to decipher the intense mix of emotions that came with whatever he was remembering, but it made his skin crawl and fur fluff up anxiously. "Zhe... it vas Zhe-- Her... eff'ryssingk. My life, my--" He broke off with a shiver, shutting his eyes. "I to not haff sss wortss.... Tragon speetch, iss diff'rent, hart to-- to ssssay--"

Sentio almost relented, almost let Cacopheny not talk about it. It would be easier, to not have to know, to not be afraid or anxious, to not make Cacopheny think about all that and feel such strange things. Then he wouldn't have to hear it, and feel those strange things through their bond, or hear the shadow-voices talk about it. It would have been easier-- but it would not have been right. He took a deep breath, and said bravely, "So talk in demon-talk." At Cacopheny's blink of surprise, he explained, a little shakily, "I think I can understand it, maybe because we're bonded. I heard you talking in it last night, a little."

"You to not leek it," Cacopheny stated, reading his reluctance easily.

"No, it sounds awful and makes me want to run and hide," he admitted just as flatly. "But you're more comfortable with it, and if that's the only way you'll tell me, then I'll live. Talk."

The command seemed too much for Cacopheny to resist, because he nodded meekly and did just that. And Sentio wished he hadn't.

By the time Cacopheny was through, Sentio felt sick. Not only had he had to listen to all the horrible things Cacopheny's "mistress and mother" had done to him, and learn that much of what was completely unnatural, disgusting, or offensive, to him, seemed perfectly normal to Cacopheny-- but he'd had to actually ask questions to coax information out of his bond every time he fell silent, caught in a memory or a shadow-voice or just reluctant to speak at all. It had to be the most horrible conversation Sentio had ever taken part in, made worse by Cacopheny's shared shame every time he'd been unable to suppress his disgust, by the voices taunting him or gloating, and by the brief flashes of memory that made it through the bond. That was the worst, because then it felt like it was him it had happened to.

Intellectually, Sentio had known what demons were like: cruel, vicious, licentious, simply terrible creatures that no one in their right mind would associate with. He'd known what rape and torture were, knew their affects on the psyche from books, knew that there were people who were imprisoned even though they were innocent of any crime. He knew all that. Or he'd thought he had. Now he knew better, and knew that he hadn't known anything at all, compared to now.

Never had Sentio imagined what it would be like for someone to have never seen the sun until he was an adult, to be kept in a small, dark room except when his keeper wanted to torture or rape him. He couldn't have ever imagined, then, that someone who had endured that would think it was normal. No wonder Cacopheny was-- the way he was. No wonder he'd had to make up other people in his head to talk to, to help him deal with it all. It was a wonder that he was able to hold a coherent conversation, or that anyone could stand touching his mind at all. Right now, Sentio wasn't sure if he could stand touching his mind, for all it was bound to his. Cacopheny had been right: he might well end up with nightmares, now; he was surprised Cacopheny didn't have them every night.

::Because it didn't seem so bad, at the time,:: he heard faintly. Then, even more faintly, ::It still doesn't....::

And that... that was the worst thing of all.