Blood That Cannot Be Purified
The sky above Raventhorn had turned black, though dawn should have broken. The fog refused to lift, hanging like a blanket of wounds yet to heal from the king's death. Inside the palace, the white flowers placed along the corridors had withered—like bodies drained of blood, unable to bloom again.
Queen Seraphine sat on the throne, but none of her guards dared look directly at her. They bowed their heads, some trembling. Not because she had raised a weapon—
But because they knew something dark was growing within the Queen.
Since the night of the funeral, Seraphine had changed.
Not in the way she spoke—still cold and curt.
Not in the way she walked—still as resolute as lightning.
But in the way her eyes held a silence deeper than any moonless night.
And in the way shadows around her… sometimes moved on their own.
---
In her silent chamber, Seraphine stood before the mirror. Slowly, she unfastened her night robe, staring at her still-flat belly, now pulsing gently from within—as if life inside wanted to be known, wanted to be touched.
But each time her hand rested there, a chill crept from her fingers to her chest.
She did not feel warm like other expecting mothers.
She did not feel joyful.
All she felt was… a curse.
And in the mirror, now and then, she saw her reflection smile… even when her real face remained still.
"This is… no ordinary pregnancy," she whispered.
A voice in her mind replied,
"Of course not. It is the bridge between worlds. It is not blood that can be purified."
Seraphine closed her eyes, hearing Rai'el's whisper again—since that night. Since their first meeting in the shadows, his presence had lingered like an invisible pull. Sometimes just a voice, sometimes just breath. But she knew… the creature was watching her.
---
In the royal court that afternoon, nobles gathered to discuss the vacant throne.
High Priest Alduin of the Sky Church sat at the forefront, clad in golden robes, holding the scrolls of royal law.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice trembling between respect and fear,
"with the passing of King Kaeron, the Raventhorn throne is without its dual pillars of rule."
"There is… concern for the kingdom's stability, especially if you've yet to name an heir or official consort."
Seraphine looked at him with a blank expression.
"Are you trying to marry me off to a churchman, Alduin?"
Her voice was soft… yet sliced like a silver blade to the throat.
The nobles laughed awkwardly. Alduin choked on his breath.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I meant only… for the sake of stability."
"I am the stability," Seraphine replied quietly.
"Anyone who seeks to 'stabilize' the throne by toppling the Queen… will be buried alongside her husband's bones."
---
Later that evening, Kaelion sat in the palace garden, staring at the wilted flowers. In his hands, he held an old book—one his father used to love.
He tried to read it, but his thoughts drifted to the image of his mother embracing him the night before.
That touch had been real. Warm.
But his mind refused to believe it.
My mother is not like that. She's a monster. Cold. She…
Yet his heart hesitated.
Something had changed.
Something not just seen—but felt.
---
That night, as the fog grew thicker, Seraphine stood on the palace balcony. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and voices from other worlds.
Then, she felt a warm breath against the nape of her neck—gentle, yet trembling.
She didn't turn. She knew who stood behind her.
"Rai'el," she whispered.
The figure slowly emerged, cloaked in shadow-black robes. His eyes glowed crimson, but not with rage—rather, with a longing no human could ever comprehend.
"Why are you here?"
"You called me," he said calmly. "Every night, through your dreams and your fear."
"Liar."
"You don't want me here?"
Rai'el lowered his gaze, his voice like a wound singing.
Seraphine remained silent. Then replied,
"I don't know."
Rai'el touched her hair gently, with hands that should have been cold… but felt warm. For her alone.
"I know your heart has yet to accept me. But your soul… your soul chose me long ago. The soul that once saved me from destruction… thousands of years ago."
Seraphine slowly turned to him.
"Do you love me, Rai'el?"
Rai'el smiled, and the world seemed to stop spinning.
"I do not know what human love feels like. But I know… only with you do I feel alive. Only with you… do I fear loss."
Seraphine bit her lip, holding back tears on the verge of falling. But not because of love.
Because… she knew the world would never let them be together.
---
In a hidden council room, high priests and nobles gathered. At the center, an ancient scroll lay open—a cursed scroll forbidden to be read, except in times of utmost emergency.
"Queen Seraphine is with child," Alduin spoke quietly. "And it is not of man. We are witnessing the birth of a demon within the royal womb."
A general murmured, "That child… could be a disaster, or…"
"Or a weapon to ignite war between realms," Alduin cut in. "We must stop it. Before the world… burns."
---
Meanwhile, in Seraphine's chamber, Kaelion stood in the doorway.
"Mother…" he called softly.
Seraphine turned, surprised.
Usually, the boy would avoid her at all costs.
"What is it?" she asked, trying to remain calm.
Kaelion stepped forward two paces. His eyes still unsure.
"Have you really changed, Mother? Or is this just another mask?"
Seraphine wanted to answer. But her tongue refused.
No words would be enough. So instead, she stepped forward… and held his hand.
Kaelion looked at her hand—warm, steady, not trembling.
And within the dim light of his fractured heart, something stirred:
A shattered trust… trying to find its way home.
---
In the realm of shadows, Rai'el stood before an ancient altar. Around him, demon followers knelt in fear.
He looked up at the sky of their realm, now cracking, and whispered:
"The world will never allow this love.
But I… will burn every law that dares defy it."
And with bloodied fingers, he traced an ancient symbol in the air—a soul-binding sigil, unbreakable by any god.