The remnants of the palace extended before them, an eerie demonstration of the disloyalty that had shaken the underpinning of the Devil Domain. Lucian, the Evil presence Sovereign, remained in the midst of the broke remainders of his once-lofty post. His raven-dark wings, normally an image of force and authority, hung in a presentation of destruction. The aggravation and outrage that flowed through him were incomprehensible. He had set immovable confidence in Alaric, his once-steadfast guide, just to have that trust broke by the disclosure of unfairness.
Soraya, the young lady who had accidentally become trapped in this snare of misdirection, noticed Lucian from the entry of the destroyed palace. Her emerald eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she saw the unrest carved across his face. She had come to adore the devil sovereign, disregarding the dimness that appeared to encompass him.
