IN NYXORIA;
A clicking sound reverberated through the quiet, dimly lit halls where flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the wall. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, the sulfurous tang of brimstone and the heady aroma of rich cologne.
The nerve-wracking sound grew louder and closer, approaching a room with open doors. The room was filled with at least twenty creatures, their knees pressed to the cold stone floor, and their heads bowed in reverence as they all awaited the arrival of their King.
At the center of the room, a majestic Black throne sat atop a raised dais, the surface adorned with intricate carvings of twisted nightmarish creatures that seemed to twitch in the flickering torchlight. The room seemed to absorb light around it leaving only an eerie, oppressive darkness.
This was the Throne room, the heart of the Demon King power and the seat of his dark, malevolent authority.
The clicking sound of shoes hitting the dark, polished stone pathway grew louder and closer echoing through the room. A palpable aura of malevolence and dark power filled the air, making the creatures' skin crawl with anticipation and fear.
The creatures present in the room held their collective breaths and bowed as the presence grew closer, its approach slow and deliberate.
The presence advanced forward, its dark, imposing figure passing by the creatures before coming to rest on the black throne and sat upon it.
The Demon King wore a crown of dark, glittering diamonds on his head, its surface etched with intricate carvings. The crown surface was adorned with jagged, thorn-like protrusions that appeared to shift and writhe like living serpents, as if infused with dark, malevolence life of their own.
A dark, crimson gemstone pulsed with an otherworldly energy at the crown's centre, its malevolence power seeming to promise corruption to all those who dared to wear it.
Only one creature, The Demon King himself, was said to be immune to the crown's corrupting influence, his dark soul already so twisted that the crowns power only served to amplify his malevolent authority.
Sitting on the throne, the piercing red eyes of the demon king scanned the room for any sign of dissent or defiance, his gaze lingering on each creature as if daring them to meet his eye.
"You may rise," the Demon king's voice boomed, his deep, resonant tones echoing off the cold stone walls.
The creatures, their heads still bowed, slowly rose to their feet, their eyes still fixed to the floor as they awaited the king's next words. These creatures were esteemed elders from the various kingdoms that made up the dark, sprawling City of Erebus, gathered to pay homage to their king, and to receive his guidance.
"Zarek," the Demon king called out.
A man with an impeccable tailored suit and dark aura shifted from the darkness in the room and walked towards the throne. With a silent motion, Zarek handed the king the object in his hand and walked back to his position without saying a word.
The room was quiet and eerie as the creatures waited with bated breath for the Demon king to speak.
The King's eyes scanned the parchment given to him, his gaze lingering on words as if devouring their meaning before looking up, his piercing red eyes boring into the souls of his subject.
"Novae," the Demon king's voice growled, his eyes narrowing as he spoke, "Why is there still defiance amongst your people?"
A woman, her long fangs glinting in the dim light, her beauty otherworldly and unsettling, sank to her knees, her eyes cast downwards in a gesture of submission and respect.
"My Lord, my town lies perilously close to Khaosville, and the outskirts of our city, and are vulnerable to attack. We have few defences, my Lord and the people of Khaosville has been sowing discord and chaos among my people eroding their loyalty and faith in your rule. Words about a new demon have spread like wildfire and have given the people courage that has been unheard of, My Lord." Novae said.
Anger radiated off the king as he stared intently at the woman before him.
Sensing his anger, she immediately spoke up, "My Lord, if I were granted more protection and guards to patrol my borders, I am confident that I could identify and apprehend those responsible for the unrest, and restore order to our great city."
"A new Demon, you say?" The king asked with his eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he sought to uncover the truth behind the rumors.
"My Lord, rumors have been circulating of a new king. The people are whispering of the witch's curse that has weakened your powers, and many are beginning to doubt your ability to continue to rule my Lord." She said with a hidden smirk as she continued to keep her head bowed.
"If anyone would be kind enough to Enlighten me on this 'incompetence' and why I, the King, am only now hearing of these rumors, when it seems that every other creature in the city is aware of them?" The king said. A mask of confusion spread around his face as he surveyed his subjects with a menacing lingering gaze.
A gaunt, wiry figure with impossibly long legs, oversized ears and delicate, bat-like wings stepped forward. He fell on his knees and bowed his head before speaking in a trembling voice.
"My Lord, our crops wither and die, our people are consumed by famine, and the heat in our city is a relentless, crushing force that seems to have no end. For centuries, our city has been shrouded in perpetual twilight, and our children are born weak and stunted. The people are desperate for a savior, my lord and they blame it on the House of Valtor curse. There is only more regression, famine and death amongst our people." The man finished with a weak voice.
The Demon king leaned back in his throne, his expression unreadable, and nodded curtly, his eyes glinting with frustration and resignation, for he knew that he was powerless to halt the decline of his city, despite being aware of its troubles. Maybe a new demon didn't sound bad.
He was more than happy to entertain the idea of a new demon that could challenge him, and potentially to usurp the throne. Though he knew that a new demon might bring a change for the better, and potentially, an end to the suffering of his people, his face remained impassive, as he chose not to reveal his thoughts, even to himself.
The demon king's thoughts were laced with contempt for his people whom he deemed foolish and ignorant, for they did not understand that the curse that inflicted their land was not a simple matter of his making but a complex and ancient evil that had been woven into the very fabric of their world. For only a demon driven by self destruction would be reckless enough to challenge him, and even if such a demon were to emerge victorious, the curse was going to consume and kill him.
This was the truth that even the most inexperienced and naive of demons understood, a fundamental principle of their foreboding world, where the curse was a constant and omnipresent threat, waiting to snuff the lives of even the most arrogant and powerful of all demons.
"Novae, I will send additional guards and protection to your kingdom within the next four nights, and I task you with identifying the source of these rumors, and treat them as the traitors they are, for I will not tolerate disloyalty in my kingdom."
The Demon king rose from his throne, his eyes surveying the room with both a reassuring and menacing gaze, "Rest assured, my subjects, that I am aware of the troubles that plague our city, I am working tirelessly to address them, though my methods may not always be apparent to all of you." His voice boomed through room with an air of
confidence and authority.
"I have provided more…" His voice stopped abruptly.
The demon king's words trailed off, his words dying on his lips, as he paused, his eyes scanning the room, his gaze lingering on each of his subjects as if searching for something, or someone that had caught his attention. His subjects, sensing his unease, also turned to look around, their faces filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.
And then, the sound came again, a low, ominous bell tolling, accompanied by the blood curdling screams of a woman filled his mind, making his head spin with a mixture of rage and unease.
A pungent, unfamiliar smell wafted through the room and filled his nostrils. A smell he had not smelt in centuries, one that stirred something deep in him.
The sweet, heady aroma of Flowers.
The aroma continued to consume him, conjuring memories of times long gone.
"What sorcery is this?" The demon king's voice thundered, as he demanded to know the source of the smell and the sound that had disrupted his thoughts.
His subjects exchanged nervous glances, their faces filled with confusion and fear, for they could not understand what was happening. Unknowingly to the demon king, they were all unaware of the sound and smell that assaulted him.
The sound of the bells, and the screams, grew louder, more intense, and the Demon King's face contorted in agony. A searing, burning sensation, like a fire raging out of control, filled the Demon King's chest.
The sound of the bell, tolling three times, was like a death knell, a summons, that the Demon King could not ignore, for it meant that his Bride, his mate, his partner in darkness, and in power, was calling to him, and he was compelled to answer, no matter the cost. She was here and calling him.