In the Demon Realms
Thorold paced the banks of a quiet river, his expression dark and restless. Ten days had passed since Mazikeen's departure, and with each day that went by, his anxiety grew stronger. The river gurgled quietly, fish darting beneath its surface, oblivious to the turmoil within the Demon King. He absently picked up stones, tossing them into the water, watching the ripples spread across its surface in an attempt to soothe his mind. But it did little to calm him.
Ethan, his trusted confidant, stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched Thorold with an understanding gaze. "You're letting your emotions get the better of you, Thorold," he said quietly.
Thorold shot him a sharp look. "What do you know about how I feel, Ethan? She's been gone for ten days without a word. I can't just sit here and do nothing."
Ethan sighed, glancing around as if to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "Your relationship with Mazikeen must remain a secret, Thorold. You're the ruler now, and your alliance with a heavenly goddess is bound to cause trouble. People won't understand-especially your council."
Thorold's expression softened, though frustration still burned in his eyes. "You think I care what they think? All I know is that I don't want her to come to harm."
"Control your feelings," Ethan warned, his tone more serious. "If your emotions are this obvious, people will start asking questions. And what about the council meeting? You haven't attended a single one since Mazikeen left. Your duty requires you to-"
Thorold's eyes narrowed, and a dark energy crackled around him like a shadowed flame. In an instant, he raised his hand, and Ethan felt himself lifted from the ground, gasping as the energy constricted around him.
"I am the ruler," Thorold's voice boomed, his eyes blazing with fury. "The council's demands mean nothing unless I choose to make them my own. If I decide not to attend their petty meetings, then that is my choice."
With a flick of his wrist, Thorold released Ethan, who fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Thorold's face softened with guilt for a fleeting moment, but he quickly hardened his expression, masking any vulnerability.
Ethan struggled to his feet, brushing himself off, his expression carefully neutral. He understood the weight of Thorold's love for Mazikeen and the strain of balancing his feelings with the responsibilities of his crown. But he also knew that if Thorold continued on this path, he would alienate not only his council but his allies as well.
"Do what you must, Thorold," Ethan said, his tone softer, but with a hint of warning. "But remember that you are not alone in this. I'm here to help you, if you let me."
Thorold turned his gaze back to the river, he was the ruler, and yet, he was bound by the constraints of his heart. The thought of anything happening to Mazikeen was unbearable, and he wondered if his devotion to her was worth the cost. But deep down, he knew his answer.
"If you would help me Ethan, then do anything to make sure she's safe no matter what"
"Consider that done but you must worry less, she has only gone to cultivate in the mountains and I'm definitely sure she won't be alone, the heavenly realms can't let that happen" Ethan assured
~~~~
"Hold on, little one," Mazikeen murmured to the small, injured dog, cradling him in her arms. "You can't be so careless-why fall into the oil?" she scolded softly, concern lacing her tone. "I only left for a moment to gather spices for dinner, and here you are, already hurt."
She noticed the bruises along his left leg, sighing as she reached for an ointment from the table. Carefully, she dabbed it onto his wounds, her touch gentle yet firm. The little dog whimpered in pain, and Mazikeen whispered soothingly, "You need a name, don't you? How about... Vesper?"
She smiled thoughtfully. "It means 'evening star.' Since your original master was a demon which kind of represents night, and I'm a star goddess, it's perfect-an evening star for us both."
As she laid him onto his soft bed, Mazikeen stroked his fur apologetically. "I'm sorry, Vesper. I should've kept you with me," she said, her voice laced with regret. But as if to forgive her, Vesper gave a gentle bark, his eyes warm with understanding. Mazikeen's heart softened, knowing they already shared an unspoken bond. She stood up and headed for the kitchen to make them both dinner
~~~~
In the Werewolf Realms
The ancient libraries of the Lycan Kingdom were filled with the faint smell of aged parchment and candle wax. Shelves lined the walls, each crammed with scrolls and books chronicling the history and prophecies of the werewolves. The room was dim, illuminated only by a single flickering candle, casting shadows that danced across the worn stone walls.
Xandros, the ruler of the werewolf realms, sat at an intricately carved oak desk, his eyes scanning the faded script of an ancient scroll. He had secluded himself in his study for the past ten days, searching for any text or prophecy that could validate the presence of the strange energy that had swept through his kingdom. Ever since that night, when he had felt the pulse of divine and infernal power, he hadn't been able to shake it off within him.
The scroll before him was one of the oldest in the collection, its edges fraying, its words faded but still readable with careful effort. This particular prophecy had always troubled him, for it spoke of a figure—a being who would embody both celestial light and infernal shadow. This figure, if swayed toward darkness, could plunge the realms into chaos. But if guided with wisdom and strength, they could become the key to uniting the realms, ending eons of strife.
"Could it truly be her?" Xandros murmured, his brow furrowed as he read and re-read the prophecy. His heart seemed to beat faster with each word, a mixture of dread and curiosity coursing through him. The prophecy was clear yet maddeningly veiled in mystery. If she was indeed the one, her arrival could either fulfill their deepest hopes or unleash their worst fears.
Setting the scroll down, Xandros rose from his chair, moving to the tall window that overlooked the sprawling forests of his realm. The moon cast a silvery glow over the treetops, and as he breathed in the cool night air, he caught a hint of her scent. It was faint, almost elusive, but it stirred something deep within him—a connection he hadn't felt in centuries.
"I must go to her," he muttered, the resolve firming within him. Whatever was happening, it was far too significant to ignore. He would need to meet her, to understand if she was the one from the prophecy.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Cassius, his loyal right-hand man, entered the room, his expression a mix of concern and caution.
"Lord Xandros," Cassius began, his voice careful. "You're not thinking of going to her, are you?"
Xandros turned, his eyes glowing with a hint of determination. "If she's the one the prophecy speaks of, then I have no choice. I gave my word long ago—a promise to the gods themselves—and now, I must see that it is fulfilled."
Cassius's face softened, and a look of understanding passed between them. He knew of the ancient promise Xandros had made, nearly thirteen hundred years ago. A noble man and woman had come to him, begging him to watch over their lineage, to protect the soul of their descendant if the prophecy ever became relevant. And now, it seemed, that time had come.
"I understand, my lord," Cassius replied quietly, bowing his head in deference. Though he had his reservations, he knew better than to question Xandros's resolve.
Without another word, Xandros donned his cloak and moved toward the door, his heart pounding with anticipation. He had waited centuries for this moment, and now, he would fulfill his promise.