I can't believe this is happening to me. Should I scream at the heavens or cry for leaving Elva all alone in the Hall of Ascendance? Is Orson blaming me... or maybe he's worried?
Rosamila barely registered her surroundings—what gripped her waist, where she was, or even where she was being taken to. The crushing weight of gravity and the relentless force of the wind left her struggling for breath.
"Is this how it all ends?" she gasped, clutching onto what felt like her final moments, ready to accept her fate.
Then, a deafening boom jolted her back to consciousness.
"Where am I?" she whispered, pushing herself up from the cool marble floor. She looked up and gasped as a gigantic Fior stretched its neck high, spreading its wings wide enough to darken what felt like the whole Kingdom of El Arga. But she knew instantly—this was no longer the human realm.
"Welcome, Your Greatness," said a smooth voice, redirecting her attention from the Fior.
"We've been awaiting your arrival for 400 years," the voice continued. "I am Rael, Lord of Ferridons, here to receive you."
The Demon Lord was massive, towering over her like a dark shadow. He had to be at least seven feet tall—taller than the tallest person she'd ever seen. Rosamila felt small, almost crushed under his unsettling stare.
But it wasn't just his height that made Rael terrifying. Rosamila had heard the rumors, of course—that demons carried the fires of hell in their eyes. But only now did she understand what that truly meant. Rael's eyes were a fierce, smoldering orange, like embers that hadn't yet cooled, their glow seeming to cut through the dimness around them. They made the rest of him look even more monstrous, like he was something barely contained in human form.
His white hair was cropped short, neat, almost like a soldier's. He wore a dark, heavy cloak that might have passed for human clothing if not for the way it draped around him, swallowing light, making his silhouette look jagged and unnatural. Underneath, she caught glimpses of armor—not polished metal, but something darker, duller, as if it had been forged in shadows.
He was dressed almost like a man, but his aura gave him away. There was a heaviness in the air around him, something ancient and hungry, something that whispered of horrors she could barely imagine.
Despite the crippling fear, she bowed slightly, her legs shaking until they gave way beneath her.
"Not so quickly," Rael said, waving a finger to pull her upright with a flick of demon magic.
"I... I don't know why that creature brought me here," Rosamila stammered, breathlessly. "I have a sister waiting alone in the Hall of Ascendance, I need to—" Her words were cut short as Rael's magic bound her hands and feet.
"Need to go back?" Rael smirked. "I suppose you haven't yet grasped what's happening." He began to walk, his magic pulling her along behind him.
Rael's gaze relaxed, just for a moment, as he touched the Fior's massive forehead. "Firstly, it's not a creature," he corrected her with a glint of pride. "It's a Fior. A spirit animal. MY spirit animal. One of the great guardians of these lands. His name is Rax."
Rax, as if sensing his master's touch, lowered his head and released a low rumbling sound that vibrated through the ground. His obsidian-dark gray scales reflected the moonlight beautifully under the faint torchlight, each one etched with faint markings that pulsed as if alive. His amber eyes focused briefly on Rosamila, glinting with an unsettling intelligence.
"And…Rax eats... everything," Rael added casually, as if he were discussing nothing more threatening than a pet's diet. He gave the beast a final pat, a signal that needed no words.
Even though I am a vegetarian, I do not wish to be his fibre supplement for the day.
Rosamila shakes the humor off her mind and tries to distance herself from the beast. But she is bound. And it's magic.
Rael gave the beast a final pat, a signal that needed no words. Rax tilted his head back, wings unfolding with an eerie grace until they blocked the sky. With a sudden, delayed push against the earth, Rax lifted off with a mighty leap, his wings flaring open like dark sails. The ground trembled beneath Rosamila's elevated feet as he vanished into the starless night sky.
Rael turned back to her and started walking, that faint glint of amusement dancing in his eyes once more. "Now," he said smoothly, "where were we?"
"Where are you taking me?" Panic seized Rosamila as she struggled against the invisible force.
"To your room*.*" The mockery in his tone stirred old fears, stories engraved in her mind since childhood. Once taken to the Demon World, a human never returned... never saw their loved ones again…
The demon world defied everything Rosamila had ever imagined about the demon world. The walls towered above her like mountains, stretching so high they seemed to scrape the shadows. The vast halls, as silent and desolate as graveyards, whispered an emptiness that felt unsettlingly alive. The air, light as it might be at a mountain's peak, was tinged with an aura both ancient and ominous.
After a brief, silent walk, Rael led her to a floating archway shimmering with dark magic. The moment they stepped in, a peculiar sensation washed over her. She felt as if surfacing from a deep-water dive, and the scene around them shifted abruptly.
"You must be the first human to set foot in Vrakil," Rael declared with an eerie pride as they arrived in the forbidden demon lands. Rosamila's eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. She had heard of this place, but only in fearful whispers.
She had once heard tales of Vrakil alongside stories of the Tribes of Elarithion, whose unmatched bravery was carved into legend. These saints were said to dwell in a radiant city—a realm of crystal towers bathed in endless light, floating serenely above the clouds, ruled by beings of unsurpassed purity.
Yet here she stood, not in the city of Saints, but its dark reflection. Shadows seemed to cling to everything in Vrakil, where the structures pulsed with strange energy, each building exuding a twisted magnificence.
According to the Book of Realms, Vrakil was the first layer of the demon lands, the ever-shifting border realm where demons mingled with shades of humanity. The lower demons here bore a passing resemblance to humans—almost familiar, but subtly wrong. Their features were sharper, their eyes glinted with faint, unnatural hues, and they moved with a quiet, unsettling swiftness. Everything here felt… larger. Buildings rose higher, doors were broader, windows wider, as if the land itself had been designed to fit creatures just a touch too powerful for the human world.
Rosamila felt herself shrinking in its vast, ominous presence.
At the heart of Vrakil loomed "The Spire" a towering establishment carved from dark stone that gleamed like polished glass, black and impenetrable. It was said to be the door to the next layer of the demon realms, where only those worthy could pass through its ancient, rune-etched gates. The Spire's jagged tower seemed to pierce the darkened sky, drawing the faintest flickers of lightning to dance along its edges, as if even the storm clouds were drawn to its power.
Rosamila swallowed hard, craning her neck to take in the titanic edifice towering above her. Her journey had been long and full of unknowns, but nothing had prepared her for this.
Rael moved beside her, his expression unreadable, his blazing orange eyes focused on something unseen. Then, without warning, he raised one hand and made a strange gesture—a flick of his fingers, almost lazy, but heavy with purpose. The air around them shimmered, rippling as if reality itself was bending to his will. Shadows pooled at their feet, swirling like ink in water, and for a moment, Rosamila's vision blurred, the ground seeming to drop away.
A shudder ran through her, and the next thing she knew, she was no longer standing in Vrakil. They had jumped, somehow, from one Spire to the next—a form of magic she'd never experienced before, and it left her stomach churning, her legs weak. She stumbled slightly, clutching her chest as nausea rolled through her. The space around her felt heavier and stranger.
"Not quite the paradise you imagined?" Rael asked with a sly smirk, his gaze fixed on her. "But you're in luck—fate has granted you quarters in the Grand Palace of Vraknir."
The Grand Palace of Vraknir was not merely a building; it was a fortress of forbidden magic and nightmares. Its towering, jagged walls were forged from obsidian and etched with runes that glowed faintly like burning sapphires. Colossal statues of long-forgotten demon lords guarded the entrance, their stone eyes seemingly tracking Rosamila's every movement. The iron gates, intricately crafted with wicked designs, creaked open with a groan that echoed through the vast expanse.
"Welcome home," Rael murmured, gesturing to the sprawling, shadowed corridors that lay ahead.
"Home? This isn't my home," Rosamila said in a faint voice, a chilling realization settling over her, as if her fate had already been sealed.
"Why am I here?" Rosamila asked, her voice trembling. "A mere human, in the demon world?" She struggled to comprehend it all—snatched from the Day of Ascendance, from the very moment she was to receive Orson's engagement gift, for which she had waited two long years. Nothing made sense.
"Don't act like you're clueless." Rael's reply sliced through her confusion.
"I can't be," Rosamila whispered, momentarily stunned.
Her heart began to pound, each beat echoing in her ears as the air thickened, heavy with a cloying blend of incense, sulfur, and exotic spices. Torchlight melted into fiery streaks of royal blue and turquoise, dancing across the walls and casting eerie, writhing shadows that seemed to breathe with a life of their own.
"I'll have your chambers prepared... unless you'd prefer to explore on your own?" Rael's mocking voice this time held a hint of invitation.
"I..I…", Rosamila tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out of her chapped cherry lips. Her heart raced faster, and a strange dizziness swept over her. The world around her blurred, the flickering lights and dark shadows blending together in a dizzying haze. Then, as if the ground itself slipped from beneath her, everything went black, and she felt herself falling, lost to the darkness.