The Queen’s Shadow

The Road to the Abyssal Sanctum

The path to Lilith's Sanctum was not meant for the weak.

It lay beyond the Valley of Bones, past the Ruins of the First War, and through the Everlasting Rift—a jagged canyon where time itself fractured and stitched itself back together in unpredictable loops. The deeper they traveled, the more unnatural the terrain became. The air was thicker here, heavier, alive in a way that sent shivers through Lioren's skin.

Vael led the way, moving with calculated precision, his aura wound tight like a coiled blade. He had been quiet since they left the tower, but now, as they neared the Sanctum, his warnings came sharp and relentless.

"Do not speak unless she speaks to you first."

Lioren exhaled slowly. "Alright."

"Do not stare too long when she looks at you. She will see things you don't want her to see."

Lioren clenched his fists. "Understood."

"Do not—"

Lioren huffed. "Vael."

Vael stopped abruptly, turning toward him. His silver eyes were unreadable, his jaw tense. He wasn't just being overprotective—he was worried.

"You have no idea what she is capable of," he said, voice low. "I do."

Lioren met his gaze, his expression softening just slightly. "Then I'll follow your lead."

Vael exhaled sharply but nodded.

They walked in silence after that.

But the tension only grew.

Halfway through the Rift, the air shivered.

Lioren felt it first—the way the space around them shifted, watching. The way the edges of the Rift seemed to ripple, as if something had stepped through a veil of reality.

Then—a voice.

"You took your time."

Vael stilled immediately.

Lioren followed his gaze and saw him.

A demon stood a few steps ahead, tall and draped in layers of obsidian cloth, his body half-hidden beneath the shifting folds of his robes. His horns curled back elegantly, dark as ink, and his amber eyes gleamed like molten gold.

Yzaroth.

A demon as old as Kur'thaal itself.

A demon who knew everything.

Vael's posture shifted slightly, something guarded in his stance. "Yzaroth."

Yzaroth's lips curled in amusement.

His gaze swept toward Lioren, sharp, knowing.

Vael took a breath, beginning the introduction. "This is—"

Yzaroth raised a hand, silencing him.

"I already know."

Lioren stiffened.

Yzaroth's gaze settled on him, searching, peeling back layers without touching him. He was seeing something deeper.

Then, he smiled.

"Lioren," he murmured. Not a question. A confirmation.

Lioren's muscles locked.

He knows.

Vael's aura darkened slightly. "I assume you'll keep that knowledge to yourself."

Yzaroth tilted his head, something like mock curiosity in his expression. "Will I?"

Vael's silver eyes flashed. "If you value balance, you will."

A pause.

Then, Yzaroth exhaled through his nose—not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh.

"Balance," he echoed, stepping past them. "You assume Kur'thaal still has balance to keep."

His voice dropped as he passed them, barely above a whisper.

"Be careful, Vael. The Abyss is shifting. And you are not the only one paying attention."

Lioren watched him go, his entire body tense, his pulse uneven.

Yzaroth had barely spoken to him, and yet, it felt as though the demon had left something behind.

Something heavy.

Something ominous.

Vael was already walking again. "Come on."

Lioren hesitated before following.

He could still feel Yzaroth's gaze lingering in the back of his mind.

They arrived at Lilith's Sanctum as the Rift gave way to a stretch of land unlike any other in Kur'thaal.

The sanctum was alive.

It pulsed beneath their feet, the black stone shifting subtly, as if breathing. The deeper they walked, the stronger the sensation became. The air itself was heavier here, charged with something ancient, something unsettlingly aware.

Lioren's fingers twitched slightly at his side. He was used to the ever-present hum of Asphodel, the constant thrum of celestial energy woven into the very air. But this—this was different. The Abyss did not merely exist; it watched, it listened, it waited.

And at its heart sat Lilith.

Vael walked ahead of him, his movements sure, but tense. He hadn't spoken much since their encounter with Yzaroth, but his presence was unwavering, his aura controlled. His stance alone told Lioren everything—stay close, be ready.

They entered a vast chamber lit by veins of molten gold running through the dark stone, casting flickering shadows along the walls. The space was eerily silent except for the soft, rhythmic sound of something shifting. At the center of the room, seated on a throne carved from obsidian roots, was Lilith.

She did not look up immediately. Her long, inky hair spilled over her shoulders as her hands moved with delicate precision, weaving something unseen in the air before her. Whatever she was creating was invisible to the untrained eye, but Lioren could feel it. The space around her warped subtly, the energy bending to her will.

Vael stopped a few feet away and inclined his head slightly. "Mother."

Lioren stiffened at the word. It was the first time he had heard Vael say it. He had never imagined Lilith to be something as intimate as a mother.

Lilith let out a soft hum, finishing whatever she had been working on before finally lifting her golden eyes.

She did not look up.

But she smiled.

"Vael."

The single word felt like a caress.

Lioren tensed beside him.

Lilith continued her delicate weaving, fingers moving with precision, golden eyes locked on the tiny creation in her hands.

"You took longer than I expected," she murmured.

Vael didn't answer.

The room remained thick with silence.

Then, finally—she raised her gaze.

And Lioren felt his entire body seize.

She was beautiful in a way that did not belong to the Abyss or Asphodel. She was ancient, timeless, powerful beyond comprehension.

But it was her eyes that struck him the most.

She knew.

Everything.

She smiled.

"Oh, Azarel."

Lioren's breath stopped.

His real name.

His wings tensed beneath his skin, the runes that sealed them burning suddenly, reacting.

Lilith's smile widened.

"It's so good to finally have you here."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression **genuine, warm—**but beneath it, something far more dangerous lurked.

"I thought Vael was never going to bring you to me."

Lioren's body locked up. He felt Vael stiffen beside him, his aura flaring for just a second before he reined it in. Lioren wasn't sure why it affected him so much—perhaps because it was the first time in days that someone had used his real name, or perhaps because Lilith said it as if she had always known he would come.

He schooled his expression, unwilling to give her the reaction she wanted. "That name doesn't belong to me anymore."

Lilith's smirk deepened, but she did not argue. "Lioren, then." She rolled the name across her tongue, testing it, as if committing it to memory. "It suits you. A fallen light."

Lioren forced himself to meet her gaze. "You knew I would come, didn't you?"

Lilith leaned back, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Of course, darling. Everything finds its way to me, eventually."

There was something in the way she said it that made Lioren's wings—no, not wings, not anymore—his back itch. He clenched his fists to ground himself.

Lilith studied him for another moment, then shifted her focus. "Tell me, Lioren. What does it feel like?"

Lioren frowned slightly. "What?"

"To be free," she murmured, tilting her head. "To finally shake off the golden chains of Asphodel and step into something real?"

Lioren hesitated. He hadn't thought about it in those terms. Was he free? He had left Asphodel, but had he truly escaped it? Or had he merely traded one war for another?

Vael answered for him. "He's adjusting."

Lilith hummed knowingly. "Of course he is. An angel's chains do not disappear overnight."

There was something in her voice—something almost gentle—that put Lioren even more on edge.

Then, she changed the subject. "And you, Lioren?" She leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming. "How strong are you? What exactly did you bring with you from Asphodel?"

Lioren's spine straightened. He didn't like the way she was looking at him. He opened his mouth, but Vael cut in sharply. "That's not why we're here."

Lilith only smiled. "Isn't it?" She turned her gaze back to Lioren. "Or are you afraid of what you might be?"

Lioren exhaled slowly. "I don't know."

Lilith's golden eyes flickered with something delighted. "Then let's find out."

She lifted her hand, and the room shifted.

A sphere of abyssal energy appeared in her palm—dark, swirling, unstable.

"Amplify it," she said. "If you can."

Vael immediately stepped forward. "That's enough."

Lilith arched a brow. "Why? Afraid of what he might do?"

Vael's jaw clenched. Lioren met his gaze and gave a small nod. I can handle this.

Reluctantly, Vael stepped back.

Lioren reached out, fingers brushing the swirling mass. At first, it felt resistant—foreign, unsteady. But then he focused.

The energy expanded.

It doubled. Then tripled. The room shook, the walls trembling as the abyssal force grew exponentially in size and weight. The glow intensified, casting wild shadows.

Lilith watched with rapt fascination. "Oh, my dear boy…" she whispered. "You really don't understand yourself yet, do you?"

Vael grabbed Lioren's wrist. "That's enough."

Lioren withdrew his power, and the sphere collapsed instantly. The chamber stilled.

Lilith leaned back, smiling. "Yes… You'll do perfectly."

Lioren clenched his fists. "I didn't come here to be your experiment."

Lilith smirked. "Of course you didn't. You came here because you couldn't resist Vael's charm." Her eyes flicked to Vael, full of mischief. "No one can. He's delightful, aren't you, darling?"

Vael's expression was impassive, but his aura flared darkly. "We're leaving."

Lilith only sighed, amused. "Go, then. But remember this, Lioren. Power does not go unnoticed. And you… you were meant for something far beyond your understanding."

They left without another word.

But as they stepped into the night, Lioren couldn't shake the feeling that he had just stepped into something much larger than himself.