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The night had teeth.
It was one of those nights where silence itself felt alive — heavy, waiting, like the pause before lightning splits the sky. A thin crescent moon hung low over the black horizon, its silver light falling over the ruins where Velia's army made camp. The flicker of hundreds of blue flames cast dancing shadows on the cracked walls, shadows that twisted into faces before disappearing again.
The storm that had once raged over the underworld had quieted now, leaving a biting chill in its wake. The kind of cold that burrowed into bones, that whispered of something ancient and wrong. The rogues and witches gathered beneath the obsidian arches of Velia's command tent, the air thick with anticipation and the faint scent of blood and burned sage.
Velia sat upon her throne — if one could call the carved serpent bones beneath her a throne — her long hair cascading down her back like rivers of dark silk. Her hands rested lightly on the skulls that served as the chair's armrests, and her eyes, twin green flames, gleamed with an otherworldly calm. The candlelight reflected off her scales — faint, iridescent markings that ran across her neck and shoulders like a mark of her serpent lineage.
Before her stood her commanders, her rogues, her mages — and a woman who had just entered, kneeling low with her hood drawn.
"Rise," Velia commanded softly, her voice slicing through the silence like the first hiss of a blade being drawn.
The woman lifted her head. Her name was Selene — once one of Alyssa's most promising witches. Her beauty was undeniable; skin pale as milk, hair the color of midnight, and eyes like violet glass. But that beauty had been touched — no, tainted — by something darker now. There were thin veins of black threading across her temples, pulsing faintly with the magic she'd sworn herself to.
"Selene of the Rune Coven," Velia drawled, her tongue lingering on the words like she was savoring them. "Once a daughter of light. Now a daughter of shadow. How poetic."
Selene smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Light is overrated, my lady. It blinds the mind. Darkness… sharpens it."
Velia chuckled lowly, a sound that was both pleased and dangerous. "A fitting philosophy for a woman who was cast out by her own kin."
The room stirred. A few of the rogues exchanged curious glances. The story of Selene's banishment was well-known — how she'd delved into forbidden magic, draining the life force of captured spirits to enhance her power. Alyssa had caught her mid-ritual and banished her before the Coven Elders, stripping her of her title and casting her out to the storm.
That was years ago. The fact that Selene still stood, stronger than ever, was proof of just how far she'd gone.
Velia rose from her throne slowly, the serpentine hiss of her movement echoing in the chamber. "Tell me," she said, circling Selene, "when you think of Alyssa, what is it that you feel?"
Selene's lips twisted into a smirk. "Regret… that I didn't kill her when I had the chance."
Velia's laughter was like the sound of breaking glass. "Good. Very good." She came to stand in front of her now, so close Selene could see her reflection in Velia's golden eyes. "Hatred, Selene, when refined, becomes power. And tonight, you will wield both."
Selene bowed her head slightly. "I'm ready, my lady. Give me the order."
Velia turned her back, her expression settling into a cool mask of command. Around her, the council leaned in. The air was thick with dark energy as the torches dimmed, and Velia's serpent familiar slithered down from her shoulder, curling at her feet.
"The Queen," Velia began, her tone half sermon, half strategy. "Hazel. The Phoenix reborn. The last piece standing between us and dominion." She paused, her voice dropping into something far more dangerous. "And yet — she is not untouchable."
The rogues leaned closer.
"She is still human enough to doubt. Still mortal enough to trust." Velia's smile was thin. "That will be her downfall."
Selene lifted her chin. "You want me to approach her?"
"Yes."
Velia's voice held the weight of a command that could not be questioned.
"You will infiltrate the Rune Coven grounds under the guise of repentance. The witches still remember you. They will not welcome you easily — but Hazel…" Velia's eyes glinted. "She will listen. The Queen's heart is soft. Too soft."
A few of the demons murmured in amusement. Velia ignored them.
"You will find her when she is alone. Speak gently. Remind her of what she once was, of the compassion that makes her weak. Tell her you seek forgiveness." Velia's tone grew colder, silk hiding steel. "If she trusts you — good. Convince her to come with you quietly. Tell her you have information about the storm's origins, about the dead stirring beneath the snow. Tell her whatever she needs to hear."
"And if she doesn't?" Selene asked.
Velia turned, her eyes flashing dangerously bright. "Oh she will, but if you're interrupted then you do whatever the hell you want."
The words hung in the air, heavy as judgment.
"But make no mistake," Velia continued, her tone sharp as a blade. "You will bring the Queen back to me, Selene. Whether she walks or crawls. Whether she breathes or bleeds."
Selene's smirk returned. "Understood."
Velia took a step closer, lowering her voice to a hiss. "Do not underestimate her. She is not the docile princess she once was. She knows combat. She's learned from demons themselves. And she's beginning to remember who she is."
The serpent around Velia's arm lifted its head, tongue flickering in the air.
"She may seem fragile," Velia whispered, her lips curving in a sinister smile, "but remember — even fragile things can cut deep when broken."
The firelight flared, casting monstrous silhouettes on the tent walls.
Velia turned to the rest of her army. "The rest of you — the witches, the bloodsuckers and the mutts — will remain close to Selene. Hidden, silent, unseen. Cloak yourselves and wait for her signal."
She lifted her hand and drew a line in the air, glowing of serpentine design flaring briefly before fading into the dark.
"If Selene succeeds, you'll see this mark in the sky — and you will strike."
"And if she fails?" a rogue asked from the shadows, his voice gravelly, uncertain.
Velia turned to him slowly. "If she fails," she said with a voice like frost, "you will retrieve the Queen yourselves. I don't care if you have to drag her body through hellfire to do it."
Her serpent hissed loudly, the sound echoing through the chamber.
The rogues nodded grimly. None dared challenge her.
Then Velia's tone changed — quieter now, reverent almost. She turned her gaze toward the sky as though she could see through the stone ceiling above. "Tonight," she said, her eyes glowing faintly with emerald light, "is not just another night."
She extended her arms outward, her voice rising in rhythm with the growing hum of magic in the air. "Tonight, the stars align. The storm's aftermath has torn the veil between the living and the dead. The underworld breathes and the runes tremble."
Her voice deepened. "And tonight, we awaken the Serpent King."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even the most hardened demons tensed at the name.
Gavriel, who had been silent until now, frowned. "You're truly going through with it, then? The summoning?"
Velia looked over her shoulder, her smile returning — soft, dangerous. "Did you think I would come this far just to stop now?"
Gavriel hesitated. "The Serpent King is not a weapon to control, Velia. Once awakened—"
"—he will devour those unworthy," Velia interrupted, her tone sharp. "Yes, I know the legends. Spare me your lectures."
She began to move toward the altar at the center of the chamber. It was made of black stone and carved with ancient sigils that glowed faintly blue in the dark. Upon it lay a coiled mass of scales and bone — remnants of something once alive, something massive.
The Serpent King. The Devourer beneath the world. The firstborn of shadow.
Velia placed a hand upon the relic, closing her eyes. "He has slept for centuries, waiting for a world worthy of his wrath. And I," she whispered, "will give him that world."
A shiver passed through the air as the relic pulsed faintly beneath her touch, as though something ancient had stirred.
She opened her eyes and turned back to the gathering, her voice clear and cold.
"Prepare your spells. Strengthen your blades. The Queen will fall before dawn — and when she does, the balance will shatter. The Phoenix will break, and all will kneel beneath the serpent's crown and I shall rule close to him."
The chamber erupted in a dark chorus — chants, hisses, and growls blending into an unholy symphony.
Selene bowed low before Velia. "By your will, my lady."
Velia reached forward, placing her hand on Selene's cheek. "Make her trust you. Make her believe in you. And when she does…"
Her nails dug in slightly, enough to draw blood, enough to remind her of what failure meant.
"End her."
Selene nodded once and stepped back, her cloak swirling as she turned toward the exit. The cold wind outside caught her hood as she disappeared into the night, the faint glint of a dagger flashing beneath her robes.
Velia watched her go, the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips.
The serpent around her arm hissed quietly.
"Yes," Velia murmured. "Tonight, it begins."
She turned her gaze toward the altar once more, the runes beneath it now pulsing brighter — alive, hungry. Her fingers brushed the stone reverently.
"Rise," she whispered, her voice like a prayer to the dark. "Rise, my King."
Outside, the wind howled. The ground shivered faintly, as if something vast and ancient had turned in its sleep.