The transformation in the fairy kingdom began almost immediately after the pact. The air, once heavy and dense, now felt lighter. The trees that had started to wither and die slowly regained their vitality. Flowers bloomed again in the fields that had once been parched, and the rivers, nearly dry, seemed to flow once more with a purity Elysiel no longer believed possible.
But even as life returned to Elandor, Elysiel sensed a constant new presence around her: the darkness that accompanied Seraphis. Although the kingdom was being healed, the dark energy he brought seemed to root itself in the land, like a silent, dense shadow, climbing the branches of the trees and hanging in the air.
As she walked through the castle's corridors, the changes within herself were undeniable. She felt her fairy magic stirring in unusual ways, as if it was mixing with something unknown and much older. Before the pact, her magic was light, like a soft breeze caressing the world around her. Now, this magic seemed heavy, dense, with a force she did not fully understand. The darkness of Seraphis not only surrounded the kingdom; it touched her directly.
However, despite this weight in her heart, the kingdom was more alive than it had been in years. What more could she ask for?
Elysiel crossed the castle gardens, where the flowers were beginning to bloom again, but as she walked, she noticed how the fairies tending to the plants watched her with suspicious looks. Whispers followed her steps, and the glances, once filled with hope and respect, now carried fear and doubt.
Then, as if feeling the weight of Elysiel's thoughts, Seraphis appeared.
He emerged from the shadow of a twisted tree, his tall and imposing figure, with black wings folded elegantly on his back. His eyes, those intense red wells, watched Elysiel's every movement with keen curiosity.
— The kingdom is healed, for now. — Seraphis said, his low voice reverberating with power. — But you feel it, don't you? The darkness around… is taking root.
Elysiel stopped, her eyes fixed on his. As much as eye contact with Seraphis made her uncomfortable, there was something fascinating about him. Something that made it impossible for her to look away. Perhaps it was the power he emanated, or maybe the fact that, on some deep level, they were now connected in a way that transcended the physical.
— I feel it. — Elysiel replied, her voice firmer than she expected. — But I also see that the kingdom is healing. Isn't this what I wanted? What my people needed?
Seraphis smiled slightly, his lips curving in a gesture of dark satisfaction.
— Yes, Elandor is reborn, but don't be mistaken. The balance has been corrupted. You saved the light, but brought the darkness with it. Now, the two coexist.
Elysiel felt a chill. She had known this, of course, but hearing Seraphis say it aloud made everything more real. The decision to make the pact had been driven by desperation, and although life was returning to the kingdom, something deeper, more sinister, was growing with it.
— How long will the kingdom remain this way? — She asked, trying to hide the concern in her voice.
Seraphis shrugged, his black wings spreading slightly, almost as a subtle threat.
— That depends on you. It depends on us. The pact is still strengthening. You will feel it in time. The darkness within you is only beginning to awaken.
Elysiel's heart tightened at those words. She could feel it, yes. The sensation that something inside her was changing, something beyond her natural magic. It was as if a new force were being born within her soul, something she wasn't sure she could control.
— And what about my people? — She asked, trying to divert her thoughts from the darkness she now carried inside. — They wouldn't understand what I did.
Seraphis watched her for a long moment, his red eyes studying Elysiel's face with disturbing intensity.
— No, they won't understand. Your people fear what they cannot comprehend. And now, they not only fear the plague, but also you.
Elysiel felt a lump forming in her throat. The look she had seen in the fairies' eyes in the garden confirmed what Seraphis was saying. Her subjects were beginning to distrust her. They knew something was different, knew that the pact she had made saved them, but at the cost of something they could not see.
Seraphis stepped closer, his presence more imposing as he leaned in slightly to speak lower.
— But that's something you'll learn to deal with. The power you have now… you can use it to control them, to keep them under your protection. They may fear, but they will respect you.
Elysiel felt a mix of emotions, a confusion of thoughts. Seraphis was right in part. She had done this to save her people, but the idea of controlling them, of manipulating their fear, made her uncomfortable. Was this what the pact meant?
— I don't want to rule by fear, Seraphis. — Elysiel replied, lifting her chin in defiance.
Seraphis gave a small smile, as if he had been expecting that response.
— You won't have a choice. Fear and respect go hand in hand, Elysiel. You will learn this in time. And the more our bond grows, the more you'll see things from my perspective.
She felt the impact of those words like a blow. The bond between them, that pact that now connected them, seemed to pulse within her, like an invisible current stretching from her soul to his. She could feel Seraphis's power, the darkness he carried, and she knew he was right. The pact was still deepening, and as time passed, she would be drawn further into it.
However, Elysiel was not the only one feeling the changes.
---
In the castle, Arabella watched everything with keen eyes. The warrior, ever vigilant and protective, was beginning to distrust her friend's decisions. Since the pact, something about Elysiel had changed. Arabella saw how the other fairies looked at the princess, with fear and hesitation, and it deeply disturbed her. She tried to convince herself that it was just the effect of the kingdom's sudden healing, but the nagging feeling that there was more at play grew stronger every day.
As she walked through the castle's corridors, Arabella encountered Draven, an old ally and now a mysterious figure who lurked in the shadows of Elandor. Draven was a fallen demon, someone who had once been exiled from the underworld for defying Seraphis's order. He knew the underworld like few others, and was perhaps the only source of information Arabella had about what was truly happening to Elysiel.
— Draven, I need answers. — Arabella approached, her voice tense. — What's happening to Elysiel? She's not the same anymore. And that… — She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable saying Seraphis's name — Seraphis, he's doing something to her.
Draven watched Arabella with a grim expression, his scars visible in the dim torchlight.
— You're right to be suspicious. This pact… it's not something done without consequence. Elysiel is being consumed, little by little. The closer she gets to Seraphis, the more her darkness and his will merge. In the end, she may not even realize how much she's changed.
Arabella felt a chill run down her spine. Consumed? The thought that Elysiel, her longtime friend, might be turning into something unrecognizable terrified her.
— I can't let her fall into the shadows. — Arabella murmured, her fists clenched in determination. — I have to help her.
Draven observed Arabella in silence for a moment, his gaze dark and enigmatic.
— Be careful, Arabella. What you're facing isn't just darkness. It's the power of an ancient demon. Fighting against this could come at a high cost.