One thousand years later ( The kingdom of Noxera)
The trumpet of victory, the treaty for peace between the Angels and Demons were on last pace today, with the daughter of heavens marrying into Silverwing bloodline, Yizla stood silently still her throat dry from desperate tears trying to escape her swollen eyes, her feather-like body felt heavy, the little tingles of sorrow was running through her flesh.
Her sweaty hands were slipping from the Silver goblet, not long ago her face was smitten with the joy of her husband returning home from the long war, and she would run into his arms welcoming him with a kiss on his lips, her hands would wrap around his neck whispering in his ear that his wife was expected their third child, and he would pick her up laughing in the happiness of bringing Gods child into his Kingdom.
"Have you thought our Childs name yet?"
Yizla asked her husband leaning on his shoulder, her hand softly touching his white rugged ones.
"We should name him Yizlagar, after her pretty mother."
The Angel Prince smiled warmly at her wife holding on her a little tighter.
"Isn't that a bit girly"
Coxed Yizla with a little tug on her Prince sleeve.
"No, but it's pretty Mama!"
A little girl cried loudly, struggling to climb her mother's lap, Yizla picked her up and looked into her honeyed eyes, which were sparkling like little bees wings.
"Peri likes it too, the father is always right."
Another little shape voice behind the Prince came running into his arms.
The sound of little giggles was the world Yizla has ever known, the daughter of high God who has married into Argod bloodline as a tribute for their devotion, accepted her duty of loving all gods creature and prosperity of her Gods virtue.
But now after passing years, the war with Demons was at it's worst, neither side wants to surrender and Angels are losing more of their brothers and sisters against them, she never wanted her husband to go to war but she can not be selfish it's a sin she can not defy her Gods will.
After some days of resting it was time for returning to the war ground, the battle was ferocious taking down bodies after flesh and wings, Yizla couldn't sleep that rainy night, even in her beloved's arms she kept on looking at his face, so peacefully serene
That she could close her eyes in bliss forever if only he was beside her, but now her heart was restless, something ominous was pouring out from the misty clouds and she knew the sound of the screaming wind was a call of demise.
The morning sun glistening into the marble
Floor, reflecting the light around forming the web of golden beams leaking the windows, her husband departing into the warm rays waving towards her dear, then mingling with clouds nowhere to be found.
A sudden jolt of electricity ran through her veins, she about to leap to stop her husband but was stopped in tracks by the Angel King's presence and her daughters holding into her silk robe looking ideally trying to find any trace of their father.
Days went by, instead of any words from the battle field, the battered bodies without wings returned, the fear residing in her chest swelled today and she came on her keens clasping her hands together praying to her father, with golden tears tracing her cheeks.
But the vail on her head, became a shroud for her husband's corpse when the news of his death reached the Kingdom of Aragod, she was devastated, she no longer could speak her tongue refuse to utter, she was paralyzed for days in the grief of her husband's death, but after few months she gave birth to twins and named him Yizlagard and Yemir something on her face was finely returning, after months she kissed she daughters faces and picked them up placing them on her lap she seemed to be healing a little.
It seems her fates thread was wearing away, trying to hold into each other but they are meant to be broken, one catastrophe evening, she didn't found her child in a golden cradle but her own consciousness slipping away as the blood dripped from those little fingers trying to hold into something but his cries were muffled, his brother Yizlagrad was still alive breathing shallow, white eyes looking endlessly above the warm ceiling, Yemir was birthed with a cry into these halls but died in silence behind these walls, no one knows who killed a dear child of a mother.
Feeling sorrow is painful but the silence was
Around her was more deadly than cracks in her voice, her daughters copped in a corner holding into each other but couldn't stop shaking, watching their mother on the cold floor trying to stand up but failed every time, she no longer possessed strength in her legs or her heart.
The Angel King was looking at her daughter drowning in grief but it was the only way to save his kingdom, a peace treaty must be formed and he must convince Yizla to marry again into the Silverwing bloodline.
For sake of her kin, she must marry The Demon King's brother, she can not dwell in her selfish sorrow anymore, she is God's child and she must love all his children, she must grieve for all of his brothers and sisters, and sacrifice herself for her people.
Her mind is filled with these thoughts but her heart is drenched in vengeance, a hollow feeling in her chest is growing, thriving in her eyes, trying to suppress her anger she clawed on her own skin, gasping for sir she stubbled on her feet, how cruel of her lord that she could not even let a scream out for her loss.
She ate away her pain and walked on her own misery towards a man who was responsible for her demise, looking into the goblet she saw her face and beside her the carcass of her beloved and child crawling into her backbone, pulling away on her bones she fell into the abyss far from her own soul.
when she saw her two little daughters and bundle of white sheets in there hands, she gathered her wrecked pieces, and she will live on and her only hope lays with them, her daughters and son will reap her hatred, she will plant her vengeance into them.
With her raging thoughts the wedding horns came off, the marriage was a success, so was peace between two kingdoms, only if they knew it was just a beginning of mayhem.