Chapter 25: The Depths of Shadows and Thrones
In the deep world of the unknown and well-known, stood a palace grander than any mortal eye had ever witnessed. The pillars stretched endlessly into the dark heavens, carved from obsidian and ancient bone. The air was thick — with power, with danger, with darkness.
This was the palace of the Underworld King.
Seated on a massive throne of fire and stone, the King of Shadows spoke, his voice echoing like thunder across the great hall. His burning flame-like eyes flickered with intensity.
"My son… you can come home now."
Before him stood Prince Damiar, tall, calm, his expression unreadable.
"Not now, Father."
The king leaned forward slightly, his towering presence pulsing.
"Why do you want to remain in that world, when you can reign here — in your kingdom?"
"I have my reasons, Father."
From the shadows stepped the Queen of the Underworld, her beauty so intense it could ignite wars. Long flowing black hair framed a face that was both divine and dangerous. Damiar had inherited much of her features — the same sharp beauty, the same defiant fire.
"Come home, Damiar," she said softly.
"Virelda is no more. You have to move on, my son."
The king nodded.
"There are maidens here… goddess daughters of war and fire, worthy of your hand. You are a prince of flame, of chaos — not meant to walk among insects."
But Damiar's eyes darkened.
"I'm not leaving until I bring Virelda back with me."
He turned, walking away from the throne.
"Damiar! Damiar!" the queen called out, chasing him.
He stopped. Turned halfway.
"I'm not changing my mind, Mother."
"You have to let go," she pleaded.
"It's been centuries. You've searched endlessly… There are powerful goddess maidens willing to destroy entire realms just to be your wife. Just think about it."
Damiar's voice was low, bitter.
"I'm not loving anyone else but her, Mother."
And with that, he vanished — leaving the queen alone in silence.
---
Back in his dark chambers, Damiar stared out through a tall window.
"So... what did your father say?" a voice asked.
A man sat casually on a black velvet couch, swirling wine in a crystal glass. His smile was wicked, his presence both familiar and unnerving.
"He wants me back in the palace," Damiar said, accepting a glass from him.
"Wants me to find another maiden to marry."
The man snorted.
"That's messed up. Meanwhile, you've got to tell Ravena the truth — that she's Virelda, reborn. A goddess walking in the living world. That's a lot, even for her."
He sipped his wine.
"But hey, maybe charm her first — you're Prince Damiar, after all."
Damiar let out a small, hollow laugh.
"Ravena's not a girl you play with. She challenged me to a sword fight."
The man laughed harder.
"Looks like Virelda upgraded with Ravena. And her blood... I sensed the witch in her — strong, raw. Likely from her mother's side."
Damiar sat silently.
"Yes. Ravena is Virelda. I know it. But she's built walls around her heart. And that witch blood... it burns under the surface."
The man nodded slowly.
"Fascinating. When are you going to the kingdom of Oblivaron
Damiar replied,
"In three days. The king wants their blood."
"Good," the man said, standing.
"I'll meet you there. I need some entertainment. It's been... boring."
With that, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a whisper of shadow.