Chapter 107: The Dark Clouds In The Demon Realm

Xelvyn was in her balcony, watching every demons tend to those living flowers with a neutral eyes that does not suggest boredom. The balcony was a wide, open space carved into the side of her palace, its stone railing worn smooth by centuries of wind and weather, and it offered a sweeping view of the lands she had fought so hard to unite. Below her, the demons—creatures who had once been her enemies, who had once tried to kill her, who had once been content to let the realm rot in darkness and chaos—were on their knees in the dirt, their clawed hands gentle as they tended to the fragile green shoots that had begun to push through the dead soil.

It was a strange sight, a demon gardening, and it was one that would have been unthinkable just a few short years ago. But Xelvyn had changed things. She had brought life to a place that had known only death, had brought hope to a people who had known only despair. And now, she watched them work with an expression that was carefully neutral, revealing nothing of the satisfaction she felt.

It felt like an abomination to the demon realm but Xelvyn doesn’t care. She had heard the whispers, had seen the looks of disgust and confusion that crossed the faces of the other demon lords when they learned what she was doing; flowers, life, and beauty.

These were not things that belonged in the demon realm. These were not things that demons were supposed to care about. The demon realm was a place of darkness and chaos, a place where the strong preyed on the weak and the only law was the law of the jungle.

That was what the other lords believed. That was what they had always believed. But Xelvyn knew that they were wrong. She had seen what the darkness had done to her people, had watched them wither and fade, had felt the cold emptiness that had settled into their souls after centuries of endless war. They needed something more. They needed something to believe in. And she was determined to give it to them, no matter what the other lords thought.

She sighs as she sees the expanse of the dead area in the place. The garden below was only a small patch of green in a vast sea of gray and black, a tiny oasis of life in a desert of death. She was still working on making Vartuahry a place of beautiful flowers, but it was slow going.

The soil was barren, poisoned by centuries of dark magic and demonic blood, and it took all her power to coax even the smallest sprout from the ground. She had been at it for months, pouring her energy into the earth day after day, and she had barely made a dent in the wasteland. But she would not give up.

She would not stop until every corner of her realm was covered in green, until the flowers bloomed so brightly that even the darkest demons could not help but see the light. It was a foolish dream, perhaps. It was the dream of a ruler who had spent too long in the darkness, who had seen too much death, who was desperate for something—anything—to remind her that life was still worth living.

"Your majesty, the lady of Kharvos is here. Should I let her in?" The demon servant asked, his voice was trembling slightly as he spoke. He was a small, nervous creature, one of the many lesser demons who served in Xelvyn’s palace, and he had learned long ago that his mistress did not like to be disturbed when she was on her balcony. But the lady of Kharvos had been insistent, had demanded to see the ruler of Varthuary, and he had not known what else to do.

"No. Let her rot there and die." She answered without a second thought, and the demon gulped. The words were cold, dismissive, and they carried the weight of absolute authority. Xelvyn doesn’t accept visitors she didn’t invite, and when they came, they will find her doors close.

It was a simple rule, one that she had established from the moment she had taken the throne, and she had never made an exception. The other demon lords had learned to respect it, had learned to send messengers ahead and wait for an invitation before they dared to approach her palace. But the lady of Kharvos, it seemed, had not learned.

"But..." The demon servant was about to speak, his mouth was opening to offer some excuse or explanation, but he was cut off by the lady of Kharvos herself. The doors to the balcony burst open, and a woman swept through them, her robes of deep purple and black billowing behind her, her dark hair was flowing loose over her shoulders.

She was beautiful, in the way that a storm is beautiful—wild and dangerous and utterly captivating—and she moved with the confidence of someone who had never been denied anything in her life.

"Do not bother get her permission, you are dismissed." She ordered, and the demon bowed and left. He did not look back, did not hesitate, did not even glance at Xelvyn to see if she would countermand the order. He simply fled, his footsteps were echoing in the corridor as he ran, and Xelvyn was left alone with the intruder.

In the demon realm where most alphas are the one ruling, Yvaine stands out the most. She was the first omega ruler in the history of the demon realm, the first omega to claim a throne and hold it against all challengers.

She had fought her way to power with a combination of cunning and ruthlessness that had earned her the grudging respect of even the most traditional demon lords. She was a force to be reckoned with, a woman who had defied every expectation and every convention, and she knew it.

"You dare command my servants in my presence, lady of Kharvos? I assume you are nothing to me and that your existence remains a presence that is not welcome in my land. You have made my first impression of you as bad as this is." Xelvyn said, and Yvaine just smiled and approached.

The words were sharp, cutting, a clear dismissal, but Yvaine did not seem to hear them. She simply walked forward, her footsteps light on the stone floor, and she stopped a few feet away from Xelvyn, her smile never wavering.

"So grumpy, are you?" She teased, and Xelvyn just look back at her land. The omega’s tone was light, playful, utterly unbothered by Xelvyn’s coldness, and it made something flicker in Xelvyn’s chest—irritation, perhaps, or something else, something she did not want to examine too closely.

"State your business and leave." Xelvyn said, she knew she can’t forcefully hurt and push her away. She doesn’t do that to omegas. It was a rule she had lived by her entire life, a line she had never crossed, no matter how angry or frustrated she became.

Omegas were precious, were protected, were not to be harmed. Even now, when Yvaine was testing her patience in ways that would have earned any alpha a swift and painful death, Xelvyn could not bring herself to raise a hand against her.

"I am here to ask you to marry me." She said, and Xelvyn didn’t flinch or didn’t showed much reaction. The words hung in the air between them, shocking in their boldness, and for a moment, the only sound was the distant murmur of the demons working in the garden below. Xelvyn did not blink. She did not turn. She simply continued to stare out at her land while her expression remained unchanged.

"How straightforward, bold, and... Stupid. You came to the wrong person." She said, not even a glance at Yvaine. The words were flat, dismissive, a door slammed shut in the omega’s face. But Yvaine just smirked and look at the land where Xelvyn is looking. She did not seem offended. She did not seem hurt. She seemed, if anything, amused.

"Among all the alpha demons who have asked for my hand in marriage, you’re the only one who caught my attention. And the best part? You’re not even trying to ask me for marriage." She said, and Xelvyn remain standing, with her posture straight. The omega’s words were light, teasing, but there was something beneath them, something serious and intent.

She was not here on a whim. She was not here to play games. She was here because she had made a decision, and she was not going to be swayed from it.

"You said it yourself, I am not part of the people who are chasing you. To tell you the truth, I have no interest in what you’re offering, so please leave." Xelvyn said, and there was an urgency in her voice.

She wanted Yvaine gone. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, with her garden, with the quiet that she had come to treasure in the months since she had claimed her throne. She did not want to deal with this, with the complications that came with another ruler’s attention, with the political implications of a marriage proposal from the lady of Kharvos.

Yvaine shook her head and smile, "you’re really that urgent to get rid of me?" Yvaine asked, and there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice. She had expected resistance. She had expected coldness. But she had not expected this—this flat, almost bored dismissal, this complete lack of interest.

"Yes." And Xelvyn answered without waiting for another second. The word was a blade, sharp and final, and it cut through the air between them.

"Oh, you need to hear yourself, Lordess Xelvyn. I didn’t came here to negotiate." Yvaine kept talking, but Xelvyn’s attention was no longer at Yvaine. It was on the forming dark clouds from a far. Something had caught her eye, something in the distance that made her blood run cold.

The sky above the demon realm was always red, always burning with the light of a thousand fires, but now there was something else, something darker. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, black and heavy and wrong, and they were moving toward her land.

"Shut up!" Xelvyn didn’t looked at Yvaine and took her opera glasses and saw the tiny clouds. Her voice was sharp, urgent, and it made Yvaine fall silent. The omega watched as Xelvyn raised the opera glasses to her eyes, her expression shifting from irritation to something else—something that looked almost like fear.

Yvaine looked from a far and saw the dark clouds too. She gasp, and Xelvyn heard her. The sound was small, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to confirm what Xelvyn already suspected. The dark clouds were not a natural phenomenon. They were not a storm or a trick of the light. They were a sign.

"What’s wrong?" Xelvyn asked, though she already knew the answer. She asked because she hoped—desperately, foolishly—that Yvaine would tell her something different.

"How could this be? That’s impossible." She murmured, "impossible what?" Xelvyn heard her. The omega’s voice was shaking now, her earlier confidence gone, replaced by something colder and more primal.

"That is impossible. Even though we live in the demon realm, dark clouds never show up. Our sky is always red... It is a sign of something..." There was a long paused... "A sign that he is coming." She uttered, and Xelvyn immediately get what she meant. The words hit her like a physical blow, and for a moment, she could not breathe.

"Grakhorth." She breathed and let out a heavy sigh. The name was a curse, a warning, a death sentence. Grakhorth was the demon who had nearly destroyed the realm centuries ago, the tyrant who had used forbidden powers and committed atrocities that even the most hardened demons could not forgive.

He had been defeated, had been cast into the void, had been forgotten by most of the realm. But Xelvyn had not forgotten. She had studied the histories, had read the accounts of his reign, had seen the scars that his war had left on the land. And she knew that if he was coming back, if the dark clouds were a sign of his return, then the entire realm was in danger.

"I have to visit the sovereign of Solkanaia." Xelvyn said, and her voice was steady despite the fear that was clawing at her chest. She had to warn them. She had to tell Qazaethel what was coming.

The sovereign of Solkanaia was powerful, perhaps the most powerful being in the realm, and she was one of the few who might be able to stand against Grakhorth. Xelvyn had to reach her, had to convince her to help.

"I am coming with you!" Yvaine said, and Xelvyn was really getting annoyed. The omega’s earlier trembling had stopped, replaced by a fierce determination, and she looked at Xelvyn with eyes that were bright with resolve.

"Forget me asking you to marry me. Grakhorth is very powerful, and to tell you or not, I have no chances of surviving him not unless I team up with the others." She said, and Xelvyn calm down and let out a nod. The words were true.

As much as she hated to admit it, she could not face Grakhorth alone. She needed allies. She needed anyone who was willing to stand against the darkness. And if Yvaine was willing to fight, then Xelvyn would not refuse her. Not now. Not when the fate of the realm was at stake.

"Fine, just as long as it’s about this, I’ll give you a chance. Now we have to move." She said, and they both walk away. They left the balcony, left the garden, left the quiet of the palace.

Xelvyn did not know what they would find when they reached Solkanaia. But she knew that she had to try. She had to do something. And as she walked, the dark clouds continued to gather, and the name Grakhorth echoed in her mind like a curse.