The Great Bell of the Hyalopsite Palace echoed across the capital city, signaling that the three-day countdown had reached zero.
For the commoners, it was the start of a spectacle. For Zaliyah, it was the sound of the axe falling.
Zaliyah stood before a floor-to-ceiling silver mirror. He didn't recognize the person staring back.
He was draped in cascading layers of red silk. The outermost robe was stiff with gold-thread embroidery, depicting the black Onyx entwined in a dance of eternal loyalty. Each layer beneath is a slightly different shade, from deep oxblood to brilliant vermilion, creating a liquid sense of movement as he walks.
The high collar was stiff with gold embroidery, acting like a soft cage for his throat, while a sheer, dark mantle trailed behind him like a shadow. His swollen feet were forced into boots of soft Onyx-hide, and his blistered hands were hidden beneath long, elegant sleeves.
Zaliyah was a walking treasury. A massive gold collar rests upon his shoulders, encrusted with rubies that looks like a heartbeat. His elongated ears adorned with long, tiered gold earrings that chime softly with every step, catching the light of the torches.
Thick gold cuffs bite into his wrists, and a delicate chain of gold loops across his forehead, anchoring a crown that looks less like jewelry and more like a captured flame.
But it was his face that haunted him. Tavian's training had taken hold. His expression was marble-cold, untouchable, and hollow.
"Your Highness," Iruna whispered, her voice trembling as she placed a final gold pin in his hair. "You look... divine. But your heart... I can hear it from here."
"Then I must beat more quietly, Iruna," Zaliyah said, he looked at his purple eyes. They were sharp, focused, and utterly devoid of the warmth he once carried in the human realm.
"The King is coming" Harun stepped into the chamber informing them .
The doors thudded open. Malachi walked in, already dressed in structured silks of void-black and blood-red. His robes looked heavy, designed to broaden his shoulders and lengthen his silhouette, making him appear like a statue made from the night itself, The red accents in his robes match Zaliyah's silks perfectly, a silent, visual tether between the two.
He wears a singular, heavy ring of black onyx ,the seal of the realm.
He didn't say a word. He simply walked up to Zaliyah and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. The weight of it was a reminder: You are mine.
Malachi leaned in, his lips brushing Zaliyah's ear. "The essence," he murmured.
He closed his eyes, and a thick, wave of dark energy rolled off him, drenching Zaliyah. It felt like being submerged in cold water.
Malachi's scent-a terrifying mix of old blood, and ancient power-clung to Zaliyah's silks, burying his own scent so deep that even a hound wouldn't find it.
"Now," Malachi smirked, "you smell like royalty.
"Smells like shit" Zaliyah muttered.
Karas felt like his skin was crawling.
He was standing in the massive queue of guests at the palace gates, dressed in a charcoal-gray tunic Vexra had "acquired" for him. His hair was slicked back, the white ritual-streak hidden under the dark dye, and his face was scrubbed raw.
Vexra was clinging to his arm, looking radiant in a gown of shimmering violet scales.
"Stop twitching," Vexra hissed under her breath, her eyes scanning the crowd. "You look like a thief at a hanging. Stand tall. You're a high-tier's date, not a Mud Freak."
"I'm hungry, Vexra," Karas muttered, his stomach cramping. "The smell of this place is making me sick."
"That's just the 'Fragrance of Power,'" she joked, "Look. There."
A massive carriage, carved from a single piece of translucent hellhound bone, pulled by six skeletal horses with blue flames in their eyes, pulled up to the gate. The crowd went silent. A tall, imposing figure stepped out.
He was chiseled, ethereal, and carried carried a cold aura , that the air around him began to frost. His hair was long, black, and straight, half-up in a middle part that framed a face marked by a horizontal scar. In his ears, green square earrings caught the magical light.
"Commander Xulthas," Vexra whispered, a genuine note of fear in her voice. "The Commander of the Northwest. Don't look at him. He can see a lie before you even speak it."
Karas stared anyway. He saw the way Xulthas scanned the crowd-not with curiosity, but with the analytical gaze of a predator looking for a flaw in the herd. Karas looked away just as the Warlock's eyes drifted toward them.
"Inside," Karas rasped. "Let's just get inside."
The Grande hall was an architectural marvel of velvet and light. Massive pillars of polished black basalt stretch toward a vaulted ceiling , Heavy drapes of red velvet fell from the rafters, embroidered with sigils that represented the royal family.
A thousand nobles, generals, and commanders sat at long tables made of petrified wood.At the center of the banquet tables sit silver chalices, their polished surfaces sweating with chilled nectar, providing a sharp contrast to the fiery warmth of the red and gold surroundings.
In the center of the room was a raised dais where the Royal Table sat, empty for now.
The "human food" Vexra promised was there, laid out on silver platters, roasted meats, fresh fruits that looked almost too vibrant for this world, and wines that smelled of summer. To the demons, it was an exotic curiosity but to Karas, it was a beacon of home that made him want to weep.
"Look at the finery," Vexra murmured, grabbing a glass of glowing purple ale. "I bet the Consort is shaking in his boots right now."
Suddenly, the music, a haunting melody which was being played on the harps made of silver wire and hellhound's stopped.
The Great Doors at the head of the hall swung open.
"Presenting," the herald's voice boomed, vibrating in the chests of everyone present, " The king of the void , Ruler of all realms, Your Royal majesty king Malachi, and his Consort the Siren of the Veils, your royal highness Zaliyah."
Karas froze. He felt the breath leave his lungs as he watched two figures enter.
Malachi walked with a terrifying, regal , grace, but it was the figure beside him that broke Karas's heart.
Zaliyah was draped in blood-red, his movements fluid and regal, his face was cold but it did not threaten his beauty, Zaliyah remained as beautiful as ever .
He walked with his head high, his purple eyes scanning the room with an, untouchable arrogance that Karas had never seen before.
"Zi....What have they done to you , Karas thought, his grip tightening on his wine chalice until the stem cracked. They've killed him. They've turned him into one of them.
As the royal pair reached the dais, Malachi led Zaliyah to a chair that sat just slightly lower than the throne, it was a golden cage in plain sight.
Xulthas, seated at the table for High Commanders, didn't join the applause. He leaned back, his green eyes fixated on Zaliyah. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring slightly.
"The scent is different," Xulthas whispered to himself, his gaze piercing through the layers of Malachi's essence. "But the heartbeat... it's too fast for a demon. And that light in the soul..."
On the dais, Zaliyah felt the weight of a thousand hungry eyes. He saw the High Generals whispering, their gazes traveling over his "delicate" frame like wolves sizing up a lamb. He saw Ailla, her brown eyes dancing with malice, and Kizari, who was watching him with a "behave or die" smirk.
And then, his gaze drifted to the back of the hall.
For a split second, Zaliyah's "marble expression" faded. In the sea of monsters and shadows, he saw a familiar frame. A man with dark hair, a chiseled jaw, and eyes that held the warmth of a human sun.
Karas?
The thought hit him like a physical blow. His heart, already battered by Malachi's essence, gave a violent thud.
Malachi's hand tightened on Zaliyah's wrist, his nails digging into the silk.
"Stay still," the King hissed under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he felt the sudden spike in Zaliyah's pulse. "Don't you dare break now."
Across the room, Xulthas sat forward, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. He had seen it all. He had heard the heartbeat skip.