Asriel

Introduction

What’s the meaning of life?
        I often asked myself this; Spending years, if not decades, trying to find the answer. I am no scholar, however. Though, I dream myself to be. Even as a late teen with a prolonged life, I sti-
“Scratch!”
I sighed, setting the notebook down onto my side table. Escaping my mind, I once again felt the warm, dense air against my cheek. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating if I should even bother getting up. She would no doubt continue to shout for me, her voice high pitched and whiny from annoyance as she demands for me to do things for her. It’s completely insufferable.
“Scratch get your ass out here! Now! I’m being serious!”
With a suffering sigh, I oblige. I slip out of bed and stretch, holding my wrist and arching my back as my arms shoot into the air. With a form of familiarity, I stand up. My long, flexible tail follows suit behind me as I walk to my dining room. Our house isn’t very luxurious. Walls of stone, with a few wooden supports whose grain has since become rough with age. Only curtains protected us from the outside, since we have no glass to accompany our windowsills. There was very little wood to be found in the underworld, only what was imported from the Midlands above. Unfortunately for us demonfolk, the Midlands above have since despised us.
She was waiting for me in the dining room, her arms crossed with her foot tapping impatiently. Her long dark hair  was tucked back into a ponytail, her intense purple eyes that we shared boring into my very soul. Her black demon tail swished from side to side, matching her dark horns which adorned her forehead. Tawny amber skin matched my own, as well as most other demons which lived down in the depths.
She was, if you couldn’t assume, my sister.
“What took you so long? And why aren't you ready to leave?? I told you an hour ago we were assigned an expedition!”
“Sorry,” I half heartedly apologized. She must have sensed my lack of remorse, because she scowled, baring her small fangs common to our race.
“You’re not actually sorry. Honestly Scratch, I thought you were supposed to be smart. What happened to you?”
“Sorry,” I repeated, lethargically gathering light armor and adorning my black blade. Scarlyn rolled her eyes sarcastically at me. How I hated her, she always had to have her way with everything. She was my only family unfortunately, being born twins with no parental figures to guide us. We had to raise ourselves, and each other. She was never quite so bossy, until she met Alex.
Prince Alex, to be exact.
How unfortunate.

When we arrived at the rendezvous, there he was waiting. His raven black hair falling perfectly over his face, dark eyebags framing a red gaze. He was only a year older than us in human terms, but looked much more mature. He was raised to be a leader after all, a warrior. While he appears attractive, personally he’s not my type. Wish I could say the same for Scar.
“Hey Alex,” she charmingly chimed, latching onto his arm like a leech. He completely ignored her, and looked across our small group. It consisted of about 7 people, myself included. He cleared his throat and spoke.
“Good to see we’re all here, let’s head out. You all know what needs to be done,” short and simple, but his weary tone carried a lot of weight. I felt a shiver travel up my spine, I knew what was going to happen. I was going to kill.