The sun rose in the human realm, but for the RuoHan residence, it was merely a change in the shade of gray.
Riosuka sat on the floor of Zaliyah's room, her back pressed against the flower patterned wall. She was staring at the far horizon through the window, her eyes fixed on the spot where the sky met the earth, as if she could cross the border of the worlds through sheer maternal will.
The room was too quiet. It smelled of Zaliyah's lingering scent-something like flowers and old books, Riosuka couldn't escape the suffocating absence of her eldest son, Karas.
The door creaked open. RiRu stood there, her small frame looking even more fragile than usual. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from a night of silent weeping. She didn't say a word; she simply crossed the room and collapsed into her mother's arms, burying her face in Riosuka's neck.
"They will be back," Riru whispered, her . "Elder brother is strong. He'll find him. They'll come through that door together."
Riosuka closed her eyes, pulling her daughter closer. A single tear escaped, tracing a path through the dust on her cheek. "I hope so, Ri, I really hope so."
She didn't voice the terror that was eating her alive. Losing one son to the unknown had nearly broken her. The thought that Karas had walked into the mouth of the Underworld to find Zaliyah felt like a final gamble against a deck. "I cannot lose another," she whispered into the silence. "The heavens wouldn't be so cruel as to take them both."
While his mother prayed, Karas was learning that the Underworld was not just muddy steeps with freaks, it was a place of terrifying, unexpected normalcy.
Vexra had dragged him out of her laboratory, ignoring his protests about his exhaustion. She wanted to shop, and she wanted her "date" to look the part.
As they walked through the central market of the Capital City, Karas found himself stunned.
It wasn't a hellscape like he had imagined. It was a metropolis.
Hundreds to thousands of demons moved through the stalls. Most were humanoid, their demonic traits; horns, scales, tails. integrated into high-fashion garments. The market was a vibrant with colors.
Vendors sold expensive shimmering silks that changed colour with the temperature, antique ornaments created from leviathan bone, and jars of glowing spices.
But what caught Karas's eye were the "Human Goods." Tucked away in high-end stalls were items from his world: fine lace, porcelain tea sets, silver lanterns, leather-bound books and many others. They were the most expensive items in the market, treated like exotic artifacts from a lost civilization.
Karas stopped, his eyes lingering on a simple silver hairbrush that looked exactly like the one his mother used.
"You are just like those demons huh ?" Vexra's voice broke his trance. She was watching him with an amused, knowing look. "The ones who are obsessed with anything human but pretend they hate them just to fit in at court? It's a very 'inner-city' personality trait, you know."
Karas looked at her blankly, his heart skipping a beat. "I fail to understand, I am already human so..."
Vexra placed a hand on her forehead, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "For the love of the void. how could I forget you're human? The way you look at those trinkets-it's like you're looking at a holy relic."
"Keep your voice down," Karas hissed, glancing around nervously.
Vexra giggled, adjusting a silk scarf around her neck. "You need not worry so much, brother. Even the King is obsessed with humans. It's the worst-kept secret in the palace."
"Oh, really?" Karas asked, trying to sound casually curious.
"Of course," Vexra continued, waving a hand dismissively. "The King spends more time in the human realm than he does on his own throne. I have a friend who dusts the Royal Library, and she tells me the shelves are overflowing with human jargons-poetry, history, even their messy little plays. He's obsessed with the 'fragility' of it all."
Karas felt a chill. Malachi wasn't just a conqueror, he was a collector. And Zaliyah was his newest piece.
"What about you?" Karas asked, trying to shift the focus. "Would you like to visit the human realm one day?"
Vexra hummed, tapping her chin. "As long as it's not the Celestial Realm, there's a tiny chance I might. The human world is messy, but at least it has flavor."
Karas frowned. "Why the Celestials? You're closer to them in power and form than you are to humans, aren't you?"
Vexra stopped dead in her tracks. The playful light vanished from her eyes, replaced by a look of such visceral, visible disgust that Karas stepped back.
"How dare you?" she spat, her voice rising in volume. "How dare you compare us to those filthy, inferior beings? The Celestials are a blight-arrogant, hollow shells of light. Even the Mud Freaks are above them in the natural order! At least a Mud Freak has the decency to be honest about its hunger."
Vexra's outburst was so loud that the surrounding market went quiet. Dozens of demonic gazes fixated on them-some curious, some hostile. Karas felt the weight of their judgment.
If they hate Celestials this much, Karas thought, his stomach churning, what would they do to Zaliyah if they found out he carries celestial blood?
Back in the palace, the human "Siren" was falling apart.
Zaliyah lay sprawled across the massive silk-covered bed, his body feeling like it had been put through a meat grinder. His hands were covered in raw blisters from the ceremonial fans he'd been forced to hold for hours, and his legs were so swollen from the "Royal Stride" training that he could barely wiggle his toes.
He was paler than ever, his skin almost translucent, and his frame had thinned until his ribs were visible through his thin tunic.
Iruna sat at the edge of the bed, her face full of grief as she gently applied a cooling green salve to his battered feet. Harun stood by the window, his arms folded tight across his chest, his jaw set in a hard line.
"If this continues," Harun muttered, "I doubt you'll be able to walk at the banquet, let alone dance."
"I'm more worried about your health, your highness," Iruna whispered, her fingers trembling as she touched a particularly nasty blister. "You look... you look so thin. You're fading."
Zaliyah let out a weak, dry giggle. "I've always been bags and bones, Iruna. Don't worry about it."
"Forgive me for saying this, your highness," Harun snapped, turning from the window, "but you look worse than bags and bones. You look like a ghost waiting for a funeral."
The door swung open without a knock.
"Oh, my How audacious, Harun" Kizari swept into the room, her red and black silks trailing behind her like a wake of blood.
"Why would you let your chamberlains speak to you with such insolence, my darling? In my court, they'd have their tongues harvested for less."
Zaliyah didn't even try to sit up. He just rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "None of your business, Kizari. He is my 'chemberlain" not yours ."
"You hurt me when you say such things," Kizari teased, gliding toward the bed. "You know how much I care about you, Zaliyah. I've spent a fortune making sure this banquet is perfect for you."
"If you cared about me," Zaliyah rasped, "you would stop your deranged husband from hosting this banquet. You'd let me go home."
Kizari threw her head back and laughed, her voice sounding like glass breaking. "Oh, darling, Malachi isn't the one hosting this. I am! I love a good party, and besides, the Introduction of the Consort is a tradition as old as the pits. Even Malachi can't stop the wheel of tradition once it starts turning."
She sat on the edge of the bed, her long, sharpened nails glinting in the soul-light.
She reached out and cupped Zaliyah's cheek, tilting his head back to inspect him. Her gaze drifted down to his neck, landing on the fading red marks left by Malachi's fingers.
She traced the bruise with a sharp nail, a slow giggle escaping her lips. "Did Malachi do this? Oh, it looks quite pretty on you. Red suits your skin."
Iruna's eyes flashed with anger for a split second. "This hag is so annoying", she spoke into Harun's mind telepathically.
"Patience, Runa", Harun replied, his own mind was a storm of restraint. "Our time will come".
Zaliyah slapped Kizari's hand away with what little strength he had left. "Ewe , Don't touch me."
Kizari's smile didn't falter, but her eyes went cold. "You're such a brat you know? . If you continue with this attitude, I fear you'll end up in a Golden coffin instead of a golden throne."
She clapped her hands sharply. A line of maids entered, carrying silver trays laden with the most opulent silks Zaliyah had ever seen. There were gems the size of robin eggs and gold embroidery so thick it looked like armor.
"These were hand-sewn by the Royal Tailor," Kizari said, gesturing to the piles of crimson fabric. "They are fitted to your status. You will look dazzling in these, my darling"
Zaliyah stared at the trays. "Why are they all red?"
"Red is Malachi's favorite color," Kizari replied, standing up to leave. "But I also think you'd look good in the color of blood. It's very... honest."
Ryuna, Kizari's personal guard, stepped into the room and whispered something into her mistress's ear. Kizari's expression shifted-just a look of something like genuine concern or perhaps irritation.
"I must leave now ," Kizari said, pausing at the door. She looked back at Zaliyah, her voice dropping the playful tone. "Do not mess this up, Zaliyah. If you embarrass the Crown, your family will pay. Malachi might show you mercy because he's blinded by his 'collection,' but I am not so sentimental. If you fail, I will be the one to end your line."
She exited, the heavy doors thudding shut behind her.
"That hag," Iruna hissed, finally letting her anger show.
Zaliyah just closed his eyes, his breathing heavy. "Don't think about it too much, Iruna. Just... keep the medicine coming. I need to be able to stand."
Malachi sat at his desk, bathed in the cool light of the Underworld's starless sky. He was scanning reports from the territories, his fingers tapping on the desk. One report in particular sat at the top of the pile: The Northwest Territory.
"Xulthas is putting in a lot of work," Malachi murmured. "The border skirmishes have ceased, and the soul-harvest is up twenty percent."
Uphior stood behind him, a silent shadow. "Indeed, your majesty. The Commander is nothing if not efficient."
"How is Zaliyah's training?" Malachi asked, not looking up from the paper.
"Quite well, your majesty," Uphior replied. "Tavian reports that he is adapting. His posture is improving, and he is learning to mask his... sensitivities."
"Adapting?" Malachi paused, his gaze drifting to the window. "Perhaps I should just cancel the banque? He's still adapting and I don't like the way the council is whispering."
Uphior stepped forward. "Canceling now would raise more questions, Sire. It would signal weakness. I am more worried about the council 'smelling' something on him. His core is... unusual."
Malachi's eyes flashed. "Fear not. They won't smell a thing. I will drench him in my own essence before we enter. He will walk into that hall smelling like the King himself."
He leaned back, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "And after the banquet... prepare a day for Xulthas to examine him. The Warlock Commander has a gift for seeing what others cannot. It would be... enlightening to know the boy's true identity once and for all."
"As you wish," Uphior bowed.
Karas was beyond exhausted. He sat at a small wooden table, watching Vexra in the corner. She was sitting with her legs crossed, her eyes closed, a faint, light radiating from her chest.
"What are you doing?" Karas asked.
"Eating," Vexra answered without opening her eyes.
Karas's stomach let out a thunderous growl. He hadn't eaten a solid meal or drank clean water in forty-eight hours. His human body was screaming for sustenance.
Vexra opened one eye and giggled at the sound. "Be patient, brother. I'm a High-Class demon, I cultivate my core for energy. I don't need to chew. But you? You're a mess."
"I'm starving," Karas admitted, leaning his head on the table.
"I'm sure there will be human food at the banquet," Vexra said, closing her eye again.
"The King is obsessed, remember? He'll want the Consort to eat 'native' dishes to keep him alive. You can eat your fill then."
"How sure are you?" Karas asked, a spark of hope flickering.
"Duh," Vexra said. "The Consort is human-or at least, that's the rumor everyone is betting on. Of course there will be human food. The would never let his prize starve to death before the first dance."
"Right," Karas muttered, his mind wandering. If there's human food, I can get close. I can find him.
In the palace, the heavy doors of Zaliyah's chamber opened again. A maid bowed low. "Your Highness, Lord Tavian is already waiting for you outside."
Zaliyah sank into his bed for one final, desperate second. The respite was over. He had to stand on his swollen feet and become the "esteemed royal consort" Malachi demanded, or watch his world burn.
He slowly stood up, his purple eyes tired with a new exhaustion.
The Banquet Bell was waiting to toll.