The Demon King's Bride

The sun hung low over Eryndor, its golden light filtering through the smog that perpetually clung to the city. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint metallic tang of fear. Amethyst stood at the center of the square, her body draped in the heavy, ornate robes of a sacrificial bride. The fabric was a deep crimson, embroidered with gold thread that shimmered in the fading light. It was beautiful, in a way that made her stomach churn. Around her, the townsfolk had gathered, their faces a blur of relief and guilt. They whispered among themselves, their voices a low hum that grated against her nerves. She could feel their eyes on her, judging, pitying, and yet grateful that it was her and not them. “Let them watch”, she thought bitterly, lifting her chin. “Let them see what their cowardice has wrought”. Her parents stood at the edge of the crowd, their faces unreadable. Her father, a merchant with a fortune built on cold calculations, looked as though he were attending a business transaction rather than his daughter’s wedding. Her mother, a woman who had long since resigned herself to a loveless marriage, avoided her gaze entirely. They had never wanted her—not truly. She was a mistake, a product of a union forged in gold and sealed with indifference. And now, they were sending her away, as if she were nothing more than a burden to be discarded. Amethyst’s Backstory (Flashback) Amethyst’s mind wandered as the high priest droned on, his words a distant echo in her ears. She thought of her childhood, of the cold, empty halls of her family’s estate. She had always been an afterthought, a shadow in the corner of her parents’ lives. Her father was too busy building his empire to notice her, and her mother was too lost in her own misery to care. She remembered the day she had asked her mother why they never celebrated her birthday. “What is there to celebrate?” her mother had replied, her voice hollow. “You were never supposed to be born.” The words had cut deeper than any blade, and Amethyst had learned to build walls around her heart. She had found solace In books and daydreams, in the stories of faraway lands and brave heroes. But even those escapes had been taken from her when the council announced her selection as the sacrificial bride. The Ceremony The high priest’s voice boomed across the square, his words a mix of reverence and dread. “Today, we offer a bride to the Demon King, a symbol of our devotion and a plea for his mercy. Let this sacrifice ensure the safety of Eryndor and its people.” Amethyst’s jaw tightened as she listened to the lies. Devotion? Mercy? This was nothing more than a desperate attempt to placate a force they couldn’t understand. She glanced at the crowd, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of her parents. Her father’s expression was stoic, his hands clasped behind his back as though he were attending a business meeting. Her mother stood beside him, her face pale and drawn, her eyes fixed on the ground. Do they feel anything at all? Amethyst wondered, a bitter ache settling in her chest. Do they even care that they’re sending their only child to her death? The high priest turned to her, his eyes filled with a pity that made her skin crawl. “Amethyst of Eryndor, you have been chosen for this great honor. Do you accept your role as the bride of the Demon King?” She wanted to scream, to tear off the heavy robes and run as far as her legs would carry her. But she knew it was pointless. There was no escaping this fate. Instead, she lifted her chin and met the high priest’s gaze. “I accept,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. The crowd erupted into murmurs, their relief palpable. Amethyst ignored them, her attention fixed on the portal. It had grown larger, its dark energy swirling like a storm. The high priest raised his hands, his voice rising to a crescendo as he chanted the final incantation. The air around her crackled with power, and she felt a strange pull, as though the portal were reaching out to her. As Amethyst stepped through the portal, the world around her shifted in a dizzying blur of light and shadow. For a moment, she felt weightless, as though she were floating in a void. Then, her feet touched solid ground, and the air around her changed. It was cooler here, with a faint, sweet scent that reminded her of blooming flowers under moonlight. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. What she saw took her breath away. The Demon Realm was nothing like she had imagined. Instead of a desolate wasteland or a fiery hellscape, she found herself in a place of haunting beauty. The sky above was a deep, velvety purple, dotted with stars that shimmered like diamonds. Twin moons hung low on the horizon, their silvery light casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. Before her stretched a vast forest, its trees towering and ancient. Their bark was black as obsidian, but their leaves glowed with a soft, bioluminescent light in shades of blue and green. The ground beneath her feet was covered in a thick carpet of moss that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive. In the distance, she could see the spires of a castle, their sharp peaks cutting into the sky like shards of glass. Amethyst’s heart raced, a mix of awe and disbelief coursing through her. This wasn’t the realm of monsters she had been taught to fear. It was… beautiful. A voice broke through her thoughts, smooth and warm, like honeyed wine. “Welcome to the Demon Realm, Amethyst.” She turned to see a man standing a few feet away, his figure silhouetted against the glowing forest. As he stepped closer, she could make out his features. He was tall and lean, with sharp cheekbones and eyes that glimmered like molten gold. His hair was a cascade of dark waves, and his smile was disarmingly charming. “I am Ethelred,” he said, bowing slightly. “Right-hand man to the Demon King, and your guide in this realm.” Amethyst stared at him, momentarily speechless. She had expected a monster, someone fearsome and cruel. But Ethelred was… captivating. His presence was magnetic, and there was a kindness in his eyes that she hadn’t anticipated. “You’re not what I expected,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Ethelred chuckled, the sound rich and melodic. “I could say the same about you. Most brides arrive trembling with fear. You, on the other hand, look like you’re ready to conquer this realm.” His words startled a laugh out of her, and she felt some of the tension in her chest ease. “I’m not sure about conquering,” she said, “but I’m not going to cower, either.” Ethelred’s smile widened. “I like that. Come, let me show you to the castle. Pendragon is waiting.” Before they could move, Ethelred raised his hand, and with a swift motion, he drew a dagger across his palm. Amethyst gasped, but before she could protest, he pressed his bleeding hand to the air. The blood shimmered and spread, forming a intricate pattern that glowed with a faint red light. The portal behind her closed with a soft *whoosh*, sealing her in this strange, beautiful world. “Blood magic,” Ethelred explained, noticing her wide-eyed expression. “It’s the lifeblood of this realm. Quite literally.” Amethyst frowned, her curiosity piqued. “So, everything here is powered by blood?” “In a sense,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes serious. “But it’s not as grim as it sounds. Blood is life, and life is power. It’s a balance, one that keeps this realm alive.” She nodded slowly, though she wasn’t entirely sure she understood. Still, there was something about Ethelred’s easy demeanor that made her feel… safe. It was a strange feeling, one she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Journey to the Castle As Amethyst walked beside Ethelred, her eyes darted across the landscape, trying to take in every detail. The Demon Realm was nothing like the stories she had heard. It wasn’t a place of darkness and despair—it was alive, pulsing with a strange, otherworldly energy that both unnerved and fascinated her. The Shadowveil trees towered above her, their glowing leaves casting a soft, ethereal light. She reached out, brushing her fingers against the bark. It was cool to the touch, and she could feel a faint hum, as if the tree itself were alive. *This is magic*, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. *Real magic.* She had always dreamed of seeing places like this, of stepping into the stories she had read as a child. But now that she was here, it felt surreal, like a dream she might wake up from at any moment. She glanced at Ethelred, who was watching her with an amused smile. “It’s… incredible,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “I never imagined it would be like this.” Ethelred’s golden eyes sparkled. “Most humans don’t. They only see what they fear. But there’s beauty here, if you’re willing to look for it.” Amethyst nodded, her gaze drifting to the Moonglow Blossoms. Their petals glowed with a soft, silvery light, and she knelt to examine them more closely. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, reaching out to touch one. “Careful,” Ethelred said, his tone light but warning. “They’re delicate. But don’t worry—they won’t bite.” She laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. It had been so long since she had felt anything close to joy. “Do they have any special properties?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Ethelred crouched beside her, his movements graceful. “They’re said to have healing properties, though they’re rarely used. Most demons prefer to rely on blood magic for such things.” Amethyst frowned, her earlier unease returning. “Blood magic… it’s still hard to wrap my head around. It seems so… violent.” Ethelred’s expression grew thoughtful. “It can be,” he admitted. “But it’s also a part of who we are. It’s not just about power—it’s about sacrifice, about giving something of yourself to protect what you care about.” She looked at him, searching his face for any hint of deception. But there was only sincerity in his eyes, and she found herself wanting to believe him. As they continued their journey, Ethelred pointed out more landmarks, his voice filled with pride. “Over there,” he said, gesturing to a shimmering lake in the distance, “is the Mirror of Souls. It’s said that if you look into its waters, you’ll see your true self.” Amethyst raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever looked?” Ethelred chuckled. “Once. But I’m not sure I liked what I saw.” She smiled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with him. Despite his charm and confidence, there was a vulnerability in his words that made him feel… human. “I think I’d be too afraid to look,” she admitted. “You’re braver than you think,” Ethelred said, his tone softening. “Not many would walk into the Demon Realm with their head held high.” Amethyst looked away, her cheeks warming. “I don’t feel brave. I just… didn’t have a choice.”