Chapter 5 - Onyx Flames

Another demon rode up beside Alarielle on a brown horse. It was the same one she had seen talking to Zār when Ravareth had brought her out of the cave. He appeared to be in his mid-30s, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, making the black horns on his head look even more prominent. His eyes shared the dark hue of Ravareth's, but she noticed a hint of blue glinting within them. His olive skin was similar to that of the others, and his clean-shaven, chiseled face was undeniably handsome.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her before settling on her eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Who'd you anger to end up with that scar?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

Alarielle's bound hands instinctively moved to touch the scar on her face. She had almost forgotten about it; none of the other demons had mentioned it so far. Realizing she had been staring, she cleared her throat. "A windling."

His brows lifted. "Windlings are nasty creatures. I've never come across one myself."

Alarielle let out a scoff. "I doubt they wander around the shadow realm."

The demon's smile widened. "No, they don't. The shadow realm has far worse creatures than windlings."

Alarielle thought back to what she had learned before. "A hunter once told me about this realm—said it's home to demons, wendigos, werewolves, and vampires. Are vampires real?"

The demon chuckled. "They are. Magra, for example, is a vampire. Haven't you noticed anything unusual about her?"

Her eyes grew wide. "So when Ravareth said she'd eat me alive, he meant it literally?"

A deep, amused laugh escaped the demon. "My son has a way with words. But no, that's not what he meant. Magra is protective of certain people. You'll understand soon enough."

"Ravareth is your son?" Alarielle asked, her tone filled with surprise. "I guess I can see the resemblance now that you mention it." She sighed, then met his gaze again. "You never told me your name."

The demon smiled—a genuine smile that made him appear much younger, catching her off guard. "I'm Ralkov. And you must be Alarielle, from what I've been hearing."

Alarielle found it difficult to reconcile the fact that Ralkov was Ravareth's father. They looked only a few years apart. I guess demons age even slower than fae, she mused, then directed the question to Promedius. Do demons and fae age similarly? You'd know, wouldn't you, since you're older than time.

Promedius snorted. If that was an insult, it didn't work. And no, they don't age the same way. Demons are immortal. Fae have long lifespans but are not immortal.

So, you mean all these demons could be thousands of years old, and I wouldn't even know? she thought, disbelief filling her mind.

Yes, her magic confirmed.

Alarielle struggled to hide her shock at the revelation. The idea of being surrounded by beings who could be thousands of years old unsettled her. The casual way they spoke, the calm confidence they exuded—it made sense now. They had centuries, maybe even millennia, to perfect those expressions.

"Are you guys a thousand years old?" Alarielle blurted out before she could stop herself.

Ralkov laughed, a deep, hearty sound that made her smile despite herself. "No, not everyone."

she mulled over this, she glanced at Ralkov again. "So, Ravareth hasn't hit a century yet?"

Ralkov's eyes twinkled with amusement. "He's not quite that old yet, but he's had more time than most mortals. Demons grow slowly but remain in their prime for ages."

Alarielle felt a shiver run down her spine. "And you?"

Ralkov's smile turned mysterious. "Old enough to know better, young enough to still enjoy the thrill of life."

She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his cryptic response. "That's not much of an answer."

"It's the only one you'll get," he replied, the glint in his eyes playful. "After all, some things are better left as mysteries." He studied her for a moment, then added, "Fae have quite the long life too, don't they?"

"Yes, but they age the same as humans, except it's stretched out over a longer lifespan," Alarielle replied thoughtfully.

"You've met humans?" Ralkov raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his tone.

"Yes," she said, her voice clipped, making it clear that she didn't want to elaborate. Talking about it would mean bringing up Alina, and those wounds were still too raw.

Ralkov seemed to sense her hesitation. He searched her face for a moment but didn't pry further. Instead, he shifted the conversation. "What's your magic?"

Alarielle's heartbeat quickened. "I... I'm a fade," she stammered.

Ralkov laughed. "No, you're not. Either your power is something to behold, or it's minor enough that it embarrasses you. But I'm leaning towards the first because I can sense power emanating from you. It's strange—something I've never felt before. Something ancient, isn't it?" A knowing look passed over his features.

I guess everyone is all about my age today, Promedius grumbled in her mind. Alarielle rolled her eyes and looked straight ahead, avoiding Ralkov's gaze.

"is Zār the commander of this group? Everyone seems to bend to him" Alarielle asked after a moment

"something like that, yes. He is our leader" Ralkov replied with an amused tone

"Zār and his band of bullies" Alarielle mumbled under her breath.

The road had narrowed, and the chill of the night crept into Alarielle's bones by the time they stopped at a meadow. Magra's horse halted, and she untied Alarielle's horse's reins from her saddle. Magra had been so quiet during the journey that Alarielle had almost forgotten she was there. had she heard Alarielle and Ralkov's conversation about her earlier? I bet she heard everything with her vampire senses, Alarielle thought, her suspicion growing.

Ralkov dismounted and walked toward Alarielle. "Should I call my son to help you down? Since you two have become such good friends, or should I do the honors?" The amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.

Alarielle could see where Ravareth got his sass from. "You can help me if you're so kind," she replied.

Ralkov put one hand around her waist and lifted her down effortlessly, setting her on her feet in an instant. "why are these demon men so strong, no wonder they have egos begger than my head," Alarielle muttered under her breath.

Once she steadied herself, she looked around, her brows furrowing. "Why did we stop? And where are we going?" she asked, her back straightening. "I thought we were going to the fae realm?"

"Eventually, yes. But first, we're heading back to Illianthor. For now, we're camping here for the night," Ralkov explained.

"The Demon Kingdom?" Alarielle's voice held a hint of alarm.

"Yes, the very same."

"But I can't stay there. You can't just take me as a prisoner," Alarielle protested, her voice rising.

Ralkov tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "Think about it, Alarielle. If you found a mysterious woman on your land, with a strange power she refused to explain, would you simply let her go?"

Alarielle's shoulders slumped as she mulled over his words. She sighed. "I know... but I didn't do anything. I... I can't be a captive again."

"What do you mean again?" Zār's voice came from behind her, and Alarielle almost jumped out of her skin.

"How the—how do you creep up on people like that? What are you, some kind of ghost?" she shot back, her hand instinctively going to her chest as her heart pounded.

"Answer the question," Zār gritted, annoyance flickering across his face.

"Listen here, buddy boy," Alarielle shot back, her temper flaring. "You might have everyone here licking your filthy shoes, but I am not a member of your little club. I don't have to tell you a thing." She glared at him defiantly, her heart still racing from his sudden appearance

Zār's face twisted in fury as he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her toward him. Alarielle stumbled, crashing against his hard chest. She looked up at him, trying to push away, but he held her firmly in place.

"What's wrong with you, asshole? Let. Me. Go!" she struggled against his iron grip.

"Answer the fucking question, woman," he demanded, his voice rising with each word.

"Read my lips, Fuck. You," Alarielle spat, refusing to back down.

"Zāroth, let go of the girl. We need to talk," Ralkov's voice cut through the tension, firm and authoritative.

Alarielle glared at the imposing male, pushing against Zār once more. This time, he relented, releasing her and stepping back, leaving her to regain her composure as he walked away, Ralkov hot on his heels.

A low whistle came from Ravareth as he walked with Malrek toward Alarielle. "See, entertainment! I haven't seen Zār get his panties twisted so much in years," he said with a smirk. Malrek giggled beside him, clearly enjoying the scene.

Ravareth slipped his arm around Alarielle's shoulders, a playful grin on his face. "You know, Ellie, I'm no seer, but if I were, I'd predict that we'd be best friends."

Alarielle rolled her eyes, pulling slightly away from his embrace. "First of all, that's not how seers work. You can't just decide what to predict. And second, 'Ellie?' Really?"

Ravareth chuckled, undeterred by her annoyance. "What? I think it suits you!"

Malrek chimed in, "Yeah!"

Alarielle shook her head, heaving an exasperated sigh. "You're both impossible," she muttered, unable to hide the hint of amusement creeping into her voice.

Ravareth raised an eyebrow, his playful grin widening. "We can't let Zār have all the fun"

Alarielle shot them both a wary glance, her mind still reeling from her earlier confrontation with Zar. "Fun? Is that what you call it?"

Ravareth shrugged, leaning closer with an almost conspiratorial whisper. "It's all about perspective, Ellie. We could be out here fighting off hellhounds instead of chatting."

"I bet hellhounds are tame compared to that asshole prime. Wait, hellhounds? They're real?" Alarielle asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes," Malrek chimed in, his expression growing animated. "Zār fought one at home once."

Ravareth grinned, clearly enjoying Alarielle's reaction. "It was quite the spectacle. He barely came out of it in one piece."

"Barely?" Alarielle echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"He ended up covered in mud, and the hellhound was more annoyed than injured. It didn't help that we were all watching and cheering him on," Malrek replied, stifling a laugh.

Alarielle chuckled despite herself, picturing the scene. "So, you guys just stood there while he fought a hellhound?"

"Hey, we cheered him on! It was a bonding moment," Ravareth said, feigning offense.

"Come on, Ellie, you can sit next to me!" Malrek said, grabbing Alarielle's hand and leading her toward the group gathered around and Thalorin lighting up fire.

"Won't fires attract wild... things?" Alarielle asked, glancing around nervously.

Ravareth laughed. "Probably, but we can always show them Thalorin's face, and they'd probably get scared and run away."

Alarielle's eyes widened at the obvious insult, darting over to Thalorin. His narrowed gaze fixed on Ravareth, a hint of irritation evident on his features. Alarielle felt a mix of amusement and apprehension as the tension crackled in the air like the flames before her.

Alarielle paused, a question bubbling in her mind. Ravareth noticed her hesitation and turned to her. "What is it, Ellie?"

"Your father mentioned that Magra is a vampire, then why does she have horns?" Alarielle asked, genuinely curious.

Ravareth's expression shifted slightly, his tone lowering. "That's not my story to tell, but she used to be a demon. That's all I can say." He glanced away, clearly reluctant to elaborate further. With a nod, he motioned for her to move forward with him.

Just then, Alarielle looked up to see Magra approaching. Both she and Ravareth halted mid-step.

"Zār asked me to find your secrets, fae bitch. I think it's time we do just that," Magra said, a wicked gleam in her eyes. She reached out to grab Alarielle's chained hands.

Ravareth stepped in, blocking her path. "Magra, let her be. I don't think she's hiding anything that would threaten us. And you and I both know the you're only doing this is for other reasons."

"I have orders, and I will follow them. Get out of my way, Rav," Magra said, her voice steady and unwavering.

"Ravareth. Let her do her job" Thalorin's said .

Magra sidestepped Ravareth and stood directly in front of Alarielle. Grabbing the chain, she started walking toward the trees at a brisk pace, forcing Alarielle to stumble behind her.

They stopped in front of a massive tree, far enough away from the group that Alarielle couldn't even hear them anymore.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Magra said, dusting off her clothes before untethering a whip from her belt. Alarielle's world tilted as her eyes landed on the whip, the sound of it echoing in her mind alongside her mother's pained screams. Memories flooded back—phantom sensations of the whip tearing at her flesh, the brutality of those who had wielded it when her mother had fainted, leaving them unsatisfied.

The scars on Alarielle's back burned with fresh agony, and her breath quickened as she instinctively began to back away. "Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me," she gritted through clenched teeth.

"Now tell me: who the fuck are you? And what the fuck are you doing here?" Magra spat, her voice laced with menace.

"I told you everything. I wasn't lying!" Alarielle replied, raising her bound hands in a defensive gesture.

"Lies," Magra hissed, and with a swift motion, she cracked the whip at Alarielle. Instinctively, Alarielle whirled to run, but the whip lashed against her back, the flesh tearing upon impact.

Alarielle's world shattered. Everything turned red. An inhumane scream tore from her throat as she lost control, the air erupting in blue and gold flames. She spun around just as Magra's whip cracked again, striking her arms and breaking the skin. Darkness engulfed her, and all she could hear was a woman's scream—she couldn't tell if it came from her or echoed in her mind.

But the flames only grew higher, shifting to a sinister black that consumed both her and Magra.

Magra's eyes widened, fear flickering across her face. "Stop it, bitch!" she shouted, but Alarielle's mind was no longer her own. Darkness spread through her, pain coursing in her veins, and all she could think was that she would burn the world with it.