The Banquet

Zariel and the group emerged from the swirling portal, stepping into his realm under the shadow of nightfall. The obsidian castle before them stood tall upon a gently sloping hill, its towering spires piercing the indigo sky like ancient spears of judgment. Though forged of blackened stone and twisted metal, it held a haunting beauty—its sharp silhouette softened by the glow of hundreds of floating ember-lights drifting like fireflies around its turrets.

Above, the heavens churned with dark clouds veined with streaks of lightning, casting an otherworldly glow that rippled across the castle’s surface. Vines of green flame coiled lazily up the archways, and the scent of smoke and blooming nightshade lingered in the air. A path of glimmering dark glass led up the hill, flanked on either side by fields of night-blooming flowers swaying in a wind that whispered with forgotten voices.

As they crossed the threshold into the keep, the demon world seemed to hum with ancient power. The walls pulsed faintly with infernal runes, and the air grew thick—dense with demon energy that clung to the skin like warm mist.

Zariel led them through the grand hall, his glowing emerald eyes gleaming with purpose. “Prepare yourselves,” he said, his deep voice reverberating through the corridors. “I have called for a banquet. Many Demon Lords from other demon realms and mine will attend. This will be our first step towards the peace we seek,” he added, his tone commanding.

As Zariel's words settled into the stillness of the chamber, the shadows stirred. One by one, figures emerged—demon servants cloaked in flowing robes of deep green and black, the intricate patterns on their garments catching the low light like serpent scales. Their skin was dark as obsidian, but it was their eyes that stood out—brilliant, otherworldly green, glowing faintly with inner fire.

They moved with quiet grace, their braided silver-white hair and ornate jewelry swaying with each step as they bowed deeply before the guests. There was reverence in their gestures, but also a quiet strength.

“They will show you to your chambers,” Zariel said, his tone grave yet composed. “You must be rested, focused. Tonight, every word and glance matters. The future of this fragile alliance may well hinge on what unfolds within these walls.”

With that, the servants ushered them to their respective rooms, each as grand and foreboding as the fortress itself, leaving them to prepare for what could either be the beginning of a new era—or the end of everything.

***************

That night, the banquet hall in Zariel's obsidian fortress was a marvel of demon architecture, vast and intimidating. Tall pillars of jagged black stone reached toward the high ceiling, their surfaces engraved with ancient runes that shimmered faintly in the dim, otherworldly green light. Long tables, carved from molten rock and adorned with infernal sigils, stretched across the room, set for the powerful demon lords of the demon realms. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and tension.

Shania and Seraphina, no longer the overly cautious diplomats of their first encounter with the Demon Lord, stood stiffly amongst a throng of demon dignitaries. Gone were the days of dark throne rooms and fraught negotiations. Tonight, they were guests of honor at the demon lord's banquet, a testament to the fragile peace they had helped forge. However, Leor was no where to be found.

Shania, dressed in an emerald gown shimmering with subtle magic, scanned the room, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. This was their first foray into demon high society, and the opulence was overwhelming.

Crystal chandeliers pulsed with an infernal green light, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the grotesquely ornate statues lining the walls. Demons in their human forms – beautiful and composed, a stark contrast to the creatures with horns that they usually appeared as. There were beautiful figures in the light of the throne room and even many with the most beautiful human faces, mingled with a practiced ease that Shania envied.

Seraphina, dressed in a velvet black gown, sat beside Shania. Her red hair, braided and adorned with tiny gemstone, framing her porcelain complexion.

Then, a hush fell over the room. All eyes turned towards the head of the table where a figure unlike any other emerged. Zariel, the Demon Lord hosting the extravagant affair, was a stark contrast to the armoured demon Shania had expected. His human form was quite striking. Tall and slender, with flowing black hair and eyes that shimmered like a green gem, he exuded an almost regal elegance. Zariel stood at the head of the table, his human form casting an alluring presence over the proceedings.

As he surveyed the room, a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, sending a shiver down Shania's spine. His eyes, surveying the gathered lords with the calculating gaze of a strategist. His decision to host this banquet was a bold one, an unprecedented gathering of demon lords under a banner of peace. But Zariel knew that peace was not an easy concept for demons to grasp when humans were involved.

Suddenly, Leor entered the hall, causing all heads to turn as he drew all attention with his appearance. The chamber stilled as Leor stepped into the grand hall, a vision of radiant defiance against the obsidian splendor that surrounded him. Clad in gleaming silver armor that caught the torchlight like starlight on a midnight sea, he moved with the effortless grace of a born ruler. At his side, he held his helmet under one arm, revealing a face sculpted with divine precision—chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw, and piercing, warm blue eyes that seemed to see into one’s essence.

Gasps echoed softly through the crowd. Murmurs rippled across the room like an unseen current.

“Is that…?”

“It cannot be…”

“Leor... the Azure Flame.”

Many of the demon lords, ancient and powerful in their own right, straightened in recognition—some with awe, others with wariness. They recognised him as the son of the Demon King—Aamon. Some remembered him as the young prince who had vanished for a while, now returned with a presence that rivaled even Zariel’s.

A few among them bowed their heads subtly—not out of obligation, but respect. In that moment, Leor wasn’t merely a guest in the demon realm—he was a force, a legend, and every eye in the hall, from servant to sovereign, could not look away.

Despite his crimson cloak dancing in wind behind him, his brown hair streaked with strands of white looked amazing and his posture remained straight and proud as he held a steady gaze.

Ripple of murmurs spread across the hall continuously.

As Leor and Shania's eyes met, a jolt of something unexpected coursed through Shania. It wasn't the usual emotions she'd grown accustomed to around him, but a spark of… something else. A warmth bloomed in her chest, making her cheeks flush a traitorous red. Seraphina noticed the chemistry between the two but smiled, her green eyes darting between the two as she seemed to notice they couldn't take their eyes off each other.

Leor, seemingly oblivious to her observation, gave a curt nod and took a seat beside both of them, a gesture that somehow communicated volumes. In their time working together, they had developed a silent language, a bond forged in shared hardship and unwavering belief in their cause. But tonight, something had shifted. The weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, an unspoken emotion crackling between them.

"Welcome," Zariel’s voice thundered through the great hall, rich and commanding, carrying weight. The torches flickered in response, as if the shadows themselves bowed to his authority. "Tonight, we stand at the edge of something greater than vengeance or victory. We stand at the threshold of a new era—one forged not by bloodshed, but by bold vision."

He paused, letting the silence fall heavy.

"For centuries, pride has been our armor, and war our language. But pride has cost us much, and war has taken more than it ever gave. It is time we ask ourselves: is there not more to be gained in unity than in conquest?"

His glowing eyes swept across the chamber, locking with the gaze of demon lords, war generals, and foreign emissaries alike.

The assembled demon lords sat in uneasy silence. Some fidgeted with impatience, their eyes darting across the room as they assessed each other. Others remained stoic, their expressions carved in stone as they weighed Zariel's words. From the demon realm of Zathuk to the demon realm of Meldevor, the demon lords had come from their respective realms, lured by the promise of something greater than endless conflict.

Leor, seated with Shania and Seraphina to Zariel’s right, felt the tension radiating off his companions. They had expected hostility, perhaps even open threats, but the quiet intensity in the room was far more unnerving.

Shania leaned closer to Leor, her voice a barely audible whisper. "Where's your father?"

Leor's expression darkened. "He’s not coming. My father doesn’t see the point attending gatherings like this. He won’t sit at the same table with what he calls 'lesser demons.''

Shania frowned, her brow furrowed in thought. "Isn’t that dangerous? If we’re trying to build bridges, having a key player absent could undermine everything."

Leor remained calm. "He doesn't care about alliances with humans. To him, none of that matters because he still feels resentment towards humans. He simply does what he feels is best for the situation."

Seraphina, chimed in softly. "We’ll need to be careful. King Aamon’s absence speaks volumes. Some of the lords might use it as an excuse to reject Zariel's offer of peace."

"Not while I'm here," Leor replied, a small smile etched on his face.

Zariel’s voice broke through their hushed conversation, commanding their attention once more. "Tonight, we dine together not as leaders who hold the fate of the realms and especially that of the humans, in our hands. But as nobles who collectively see the need to end bloodshed and a war that would likely wipe out many."

His words were met with mutters of dissent. One of the lords, a figure clad in crimson armor, spoke first. His name—Lord Barak, of the Infernal region of Raeth. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Zariel. "You speak of peace as if it were a prize worth seeking. Yet, we are demons. War is in our blood, our nature, and the humans earned the war that they waged with us. What do we gain from this peace you so boldly propose?"

Zariel didn’t hesitate. "A New era—a better one. The human realm and even ours have been torn apart for eons, and while war may be in our nature, it has brought us nothing but ruin and the death of countless thousands and many more. This banquet is not a gesture of weakness, Lord Barak. It is an opportunity for us to forge an alliance with humans and together, create a path far greater than anything that either of us have ever achieved alone. We must evolve, or be consumed by the chaos we have all wrought."

Lord Barak’s lip curled, but he said nothing more. Other lords shifted in their seats, clearly unsettled by Zariel’s rhetoric. They had come expecting an offer of conquest or power, not this. But Zariel had anticipated their reluctance.

Another demon lord spoke, her name—Kathuri, from the demon realm of Styria, her voice a low enchanting whisper. "And what of King Aamon? The Primordial Demon King refuses to join us. Does his absence mean that he rejects this vision of yours?"

Leor stiffened at the mention of his father. All eyes turned to him expecting him to say something, but Zariel was the one who quickly answered because he knew who Leor was all along but pretended not to know.

"King Aamon’s absence is no rejection of the plan," Zariel said, his voice calm yet firm. "He is a primordial, and his concerns transcend those of us gathered here. But make no mistake, his son sits amongst us as an embodiment of the goal we hope to achieve through peace. This war must end."

A murmur of agreement passed through the room. It was subtle. But the presence of Leor, the son of Aamon, had made the demon lords consider what Zariel was proposing. They knew that for Leor to be present, then it must hint at the fact that peace was inevitable.

Leor exhaled quietly, grateful for Zariel’s deft handling of the situation. He knew his father would never openly support this peace effort without a long and exhausting reluctance, but the mere suggestion that Aamon wasn’t opposed to it outright was enough to prevent the banquet from descending into chaos.

Shania, sensing the delicate balance, decided it was time to speak. "Your majesties, we’ve seen the consequences of the endless wars. Humans and demons alike suffer from the constant bloodshed. We believe this new path is one where both sides can coexist and put an end to this never-ending war. There is much to learn from humans, as there is to learn from all of you. A combination of both minds would create a future far more greater than any we could forge on our own."

Her words hung in the air and though she expected immediate backlash, there was a pause. Perhaps the demon lords were considering the weight of her argument, or perhaps they were simply too prideful to acknowledge it aloud.

Lord Tzareth, a demon lord with green hair and brown skin, leaned forward, his voice calm and firm. "Peace is a fragile thing, human. If we agree to this, what assurances do we have that your kind will not betray us? That your kind will not strike while our backs are turned? Humans are not known for their loyalty. For the right price, they will betray even their very own."

Seraphina answered before Shania could speak. "Not all humans are disloyal, and not all demons are loyal. No one is asking for blind trust, your majesty. We have helped our kind understand the importance of peace between us all, and they've gotten along pretty well. We proved our intent through actions, not words, and the trial was a success. We believe that with further cooperation and faith, both our kinds can achieve greatness."

Tzareth’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing further. The tension in the room was palpable, each lord weighing the benefits and risks of embracing Zariel’s proposal.

Zariel took a step forward, his presence filling the room with an almost alluring intensity. "We stand on the edge of a new path. This banquet is more than just a gathering of nobles and rulers. It is a symbol. A test of whether we, as demons, are capable of change."

He raised his chalice, a golden, ornate vessel filled with shimmering wine. "To peace, and to the strength it takes to pursue it. Who's with me?"

The demon lords, one by one, raised their chalices and cheered in agreement. Even Lord Barak, though his expression remained one of skepticism, lifted his cup. They had seen the need for peace, even though some of them had felt a little bit reluctant.

Leor felt a flicker of hope in his heart. This banquet was only the beginning, but it was a step toward something greater, something that could reshape the future of both the demon realms and humanity.

Just then, Zariel raised his chalice again, his voice, deep and calm this time, cutting through the silence. "Honored guests," he boomed, his gaze lingering on Shania just a beat too long. "Tonight, let us not only celebrate the dawn of a new era, but also the fact that these… intrepid allies of ours made us believe in something worth fighting for," raising his goblet, he gestured towards Leor, Shania and Seraphina. "To the trio that made this possible."

The assembled demons erupted in cheers and applause. Zariel walked around the hall, his eyes never leaving Shania. With grace, he approached the trio, stopping a hairsbreadth in front of Shania.

"Shania," he whispered, his voice a caress. "Your courage and unwavering spirit are as admirable as your beauty."

Shania felt a blush creep up her neck as Leor shifted uncomfortably beside her. Though she couldn't decipher the emotion flickering in Leor's eyes as they shifted colours from the initial warm blue to a fiery crimson, a primal possessiveness had clawed its way up Leor's own throat.

This was a game of diplomacy, she reminded herself, a dance on a precarious tightrope. "I appreciate the compliment, Lord Zariel. Glad to see that we've finally been able to make it this far," she replied, her voice firm.

"Indeed, perhaps we might discuss our next move later," Zariel trailed off with a smile.

Seraphina sipped her wine, her gaze filled with amusement, but she remained silent. She had noticed Leor and Shania's countenance and their behaviour around each other. She knew Shania and Leor had begun to feel something for each other. It was pretty obvious after all.

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of introductions, elaborate dishes that defied human culinary skills, and conversations filled with veiled threats and cautious optimism.

Despite the formal setting, Shania couldn't shake the feeling of Leor's gaze burning into her back whenever she interacted with Zariel. The normally stoic prince seemed to emanate a subtle hostility towards Zariel, a possessiveness that surprised Shania even further. But she liked it and couldn't understand why.

As the night wore on, Zariel requested a private audience with Shania and Leor alone. The tension in the small chamber was thicker than the wine they were offered.

"Your efforts haven't gone unnoticed," Zariel began, his gaze flickering between them. "There's potential for further collaboration. Perhaps a personal envoy to navigate the intricacies of human politics?"

He looked flirtatiously at Shania, a glint of something dangerous shimmering in his eyes. "Someone as capable and… captivating as yourself wouldn't mind discussing further with me, alone of course."

Shania felt her breath catch in her throat. The line between diplomacy and an obvious flirt blurring. Before she could respond, Leor stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous.

"Know your limits, Zariel," he growled, his hand instinctively finding the hilt of his ceremonial blade.

Zariel arched an eyebrow, a slow smile playing on his lips. "Ah, possessiveness suits you, Prince Leor. Perhaps there's more to this human than meets the eye. However, I will offer an envoy nonetheless... as a sign that I have fulfilled my end of the bargain."

The air crackled with unspoken emotions. Shania found herself caught between two powerful forces, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Leor's protectiveness, a sharp contrast to his usual stoicism, sent a warmth through her. It was something she hadn't anticipated. Zariel's charm, laced with an underlying threat, was both odd and unsettling but Leor's possessiveness was far more captivating.

"There's much to discuss," Shania finally managed, her voice surprisingly steady. "Perhaps another time, in a less… private setting, Your Majesty."

Zariel's smile widened, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Of course," he conceded, his voice smooth. "Diplomacy thrives on understanding. Wouldn't you agree?"

Shania nodded curtly.

"But remember, Shania," Zariel continued, "bridges are built one step at a time."

With a final lingering look that sent shivers down Shania's spine and then a glance at Leor. Zariel dismissed them.

As they exited the chamber, the tense silence stretched between them as they walked through the corridor.

"Leor," Shania began, her voice barely a whisper.

"Shania," he replied, his voice tight with unspoken emotions. They stopped at a secluded balcony overlooking the demon cities below as the air around them crackled with unspoken emotions. The twinkling lights of the obsidian cities spread out before them, cities filled with marvelous architecture.

"You were uncomfortable back there. Weren't you?" he finally asked, frustration simmering in his voice.

Shania hesitated, unsure how to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling within her. "It was… diplomacy," she finally settled on, the word feeling hollow on her tongue.

Leor scoffed. "Diplomacy with a flirt wrapped in a charming facade. Don't tell me you didn't see it too, Shania."

She met his gaze, a spark of something new igniting in her own eyes. "I…" she began, then paused, the words catching in her throat. Times spent working together, of relying on each other through countless trials, had forged a deep bond between them. But this sudden surge of something unfamiliar, something that went beyond trust and respect, took her by surprise.

Leor reached out, a single finger gently brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt through her. "Shania," he murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire, "we may be navigating demon politics, but that doesn't mean you have to tolerate improper behaviour from a fucking demon lord."

The weight of his words, the vulnerability in his gaze, shattered the dam holding back a confession she hadn't even realized she wanted to make. "Leor," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "I… I never thought… amongst all this…"

He cupped her face in his hand, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his eyes now a warm blue again searching her emerald eyes. "But amidst the chaos, there you were, a beacon of courage and strength. And somewhere along the way…" he didn't need to finish the sentence before she hugged him.

Their unspoken understanding hung heavy in the air, a shared realization born from countless shared experiences. The line between duty and desire had blurred, leaving them teetering on the edge of something new, something beautiful that felt utterly forbidden in the midst of their precarious diplomatic mission.

But before they could explore this newfound feeling further, a flicker of movement in the corner of Shania's eye drew their attention. A cloaked figure, shrouded in shadow, watched them intently from a nearby balcony. Concern and suspicion replaced the budding desire in her eyes.

"Someone's watching us," she whispered as she stepped back, her voice tight with apprehension.

Leor followed her gaze, his hand tightening around hers. "We need to be careful," he said, his voice low and grim. "This new alliance is still fragile. Enemies lurk in both shadows and light. We must return to our chambers."

The moment stolen amidst the chaos of demon politics, had passed, leaving behind a bittersweet mixture of longing and caution. Shania and Leor had come to realise they had feelings for each other.

Yet, as they turned away from the balcony, a silent vow passed between them – a promise to navigate the treacherous path ahead together, their newfound bond an ember of hope amidst the darkness, a flickering flame that could illuminate their way and perhaps, ignite a future where love and peace could coexist, even in a world teetering on the brink.