Xerordir stalked the streets. No evil was a match for him. He was pure evil now. His mind had joined with that of a demon prince, their souls shared a body. Nothing could match that. Surely. He had heard rumours of this Whisper. Senka, they called her. Surely, it was an illusion. Kirnardaz scolded Xerordir for taking certain routes, and not being violent enough, and not displaying his power, and Xerordir nearly obeyed. But he was no pawn, both souls agreed that. They had come to a symbiosis. They respected each other, and thus, gave and took from each other equally. They affected each other's thoughts, while still being individual and one at the same time. They advised each other. Took turns controlling Xerordir's body. Enjoyed things they bothe liked, and compromised. If they were separate forms, they would appear to be best of friends. And they would argue, and fight, and laugh, and share. An unusual thing to occur during possession.
They walked, discussing whether Kirnardaz's latest visit to the brothel was necessary, and they joked, mental banter ensuing. But then Kirnardaz stopped, and the body did too. The streets felt evil. "Come, Whisper in the night, let us see you. Let us sow the seeds of alliance, or burn the crop in combat. Let us meet, and see if you are a shadow, or smoke." The demon had a way with words that even Xerordir couldn't match.
