“The Palace of Democrit has an extensive history, the books in its libraries mentioning several different dates of its establishment, but all pointing out to it being built far later than the first Palaces of Humans. The Palace history includes various disasters, as well as multiple devastations caused by what appear to be monsters, early scriptures being more poetic than descriptive in those regards.”

−Palaces of the World, High Chieftain Ton’Darros Graphat, 770 AS

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“Wake up, Princess.”

A kiss lands on my forehead as a gruff voice echoes around my ears. My eyes open only to be met by the eternal darkness of his, the small red glint inside lighting my face, bringing heat into my body, swirling thoughts into my mind.

The time pauses for a moment as his face hovers above mine, neither of us willing to go further, or go back. The eternity in a second ends as his head moves away, the air around me finally gushing into my lungs as I drown in my breaths.

Cerolus stands next to the bed, putting on a white shirt, nonchalantly walking around the room.

“We have been summoned to the Palace at once. A meal will have to wait, and we will probably be dining with my family today. I hope you’ll like it. Tiana is going to fetch you your dress as soon as I leave the room, you have little time to get ready.

I myself need to get my ceremonial attire, so I will see you outside the house soon.”

Not waiting for any answers or acknowledgements, he leaves the room, letting me bask alone in the morning Sunlight coming through the lone window. I groggily get out of the bed, my mind calmed down since my energetic awaking.

Not a moment passes since I stand on my feet that Tiana has entered the room, followed by two female Demons, ones who I cannot remember seeing at home. Tiana carries an extravagant black dress, lined with red gems and embroidered with gold around it. It looks magnificent, and my mind races of the thought of me being able to wear such a thing today.

I always thought their dresses would be simple and ugly, a mere thought of wearing black being repulsive to my mind. But this is something completely different, completely out of my wildest dreams. I let out a small squeal, unsightly of any manners I was taught as a child.

“Is something wrong, Mistress?” Tiana seems puzzled by my actions, the dress in her hands swaying as she stops in her tracks.

“It’s beautiful! When Cerolus said he’s going to have me wear a black dress, I never thought it would look as pretty as this! Who made this? And look at these gems! They look amazing!” Words exit my mouth as they please, my tongue faster than any thought I can muster.

“Master had this dress made as soon as the wedding was announced. He has exchanged letters with your Palace to gain information about your tastes and size, to have the dress fit as well as possible.”

The Demons set to work putting me into the dress, the silken fabric flowing across my skin, the mirror in front of me showing every bit of my body as it’s engulfed by the dress, curves of my body melding into the darkness, the golden embroidery making me look slimmer and dignified.

As the dress is being straightened out on my body, removing any crumbles and imperfections on its surface, Tiana straightens my hair to fall down behind my back, while one of the other Demons pretties up my face by using fine powders on my cheeks and a smearing a dark red liquid across my lips.

I don’t even have enough time to look myself over properly in the mirror, only spotting some vague outlines of what appears to be my face, the black dress making me almost unrecognizable. Tiana rushes me through the dressing process, putting heeled shoes on my feet, while a Demon dyes my nails a sullen red, mirroring the redness of Demons’.

Preparations seemingly complete, I am almost ushered through the corridors I cannot discern one for another, until we reach the doors that lead to the exit of the house, my head turning around to gaze at the family sigil spread across the wall opposite the doors, the first thing visitors are privy to seeing when they enter the house.

The doors burst open by the guards that stood in front, and I look outwards into the streets of Democrit lit by the morning rays. Vibrant reds and sullen blacks paint the various buildings around me, as the Church looms in the background.

I exit the mansion, stepping down to be met by the sight of a familiar carriage, a Demon in a red suit of armor with a cloak fluttering in the wind standing before it. The Demon’s chipped horn is a telltale sign of the person inside the armor, as his hoofed legs bend to allow him to kneel slightly and extends his hand to take my own.

A single word comes out of his mouth, barely reaching my ears, muffled by his own efforts and the helmet that allows only a part of his face to show through the darkness.

“Beautiful.”

My chest pummels. Is this what I always wanted? Is this acknowledgement the beginning of something that I wished for?

Cerolus guides me inside the carriage, and the Firemanes start their trot across the streets of Democrit.

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As the wheels on the carriage turn, I spot the humongous building we are seemingly headed towards. The red and black brick decorates the outer walls as spires surge upwards ending in spikes and towers, the grotesque building apparently made to instill terror and awe into those that visit, and it is succeeding in my case. The large banner that swirls in the wind shows the flame in the Sun I’ve got used to seeing in our home.

The carriage stops and my husband leads me out of it, and we are in front of a humongous black door, statues of Demons with spears posed to guard it. The guards open the door before us, as I take my first step into the Palace of Democrit.

The sound of our steps reverberates through the enormous hallway, devoid of any life that hasn’t just entered through. We wordlessly move to the other side, where similar doors await.

Cerolus taps them with one finger, the doors reacting to the slightest touch.

“Opens by putting in a magical force.” A nonchalant answer to my unasked question.

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The doors open to reveal a passage with several guards standing on the side, making a path with their spears. On the far end of the huge room a magnificent throne lays, a person sat upon it, with more Demons on the chairs and tables around.

The hall is silent save for the sounds of hooves stomping on the floor, a rhythmic beat echoing through the room. Many torches and crystals light the room, but a lot of it remains in twilight, the sheer size not allowing the darkness to be completely removed.

As Cerolus makes it near the throne, Kozzok appears from the darkness of the pillar near us.

“Lord Cerolus Kreshorok and his wife, Sophia Leonia Kreshorok.”

Cerolus stops before the throne performing a small bow, his body barely moving.

Suddenly, the person on the throne stands up, taking me by complete surprise, as I was taught that the King almost never stands up from his throne to greet visitors. Just what is Cerolus to them?

“Uncle Cerolus!” The Maorok exclaims almost gleefully, and steps down to embrace my husband, Cerolus only opening his arms into a wide hug in response.

“Herod, you devious man! Congratulations on your child!”

The Demons, both in suits of armor, with The Maorok only with a huge gemmed crown on his head instead of a helmet my husband wears, leave their quick embrace, the entire regal atmosphere that preceded the event turning into a more lighthearted one.

“Herod, allow me to introduce my wife Sophia.” At his words I curtsey forward, trying to not offend any one of the several people gathered around us.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Maorok.”

He only laughs briefly.

“Nonsense, call me Herod, I can’t stand Cerolus calling me that, and neither will I have you do it too. The pleasure is all mine, meeting the human girl that made him move out finally. He’s been getting boring in my later years. But where are our manners, we have to introduce you to the rest of the family. Come, child.”

He leads everyone away from the throne into an adjoining room, the difference in its sizes incredible in comparison.

I am then swarmed by Demons in formal attire, none with armor on them though.

Two gruff Demons approach me, some similarities with The Maorok seen on their faces.

“Greetings, I am Pharalad, and this is Dariel.” The larger Demon exclaims with a pleasant voice, similar to my father’s. If I remember correctly, these are the two brothers of The Maorok.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you. I’ve been excited to finally meet my husband’s family for a while now. He has been very secretive about you, as if you were going to eat me or something.” I try to lighten the mood with a silly joke.

“Nonsense, we wouldn’t eat you.”

“You look way too thin for that. We prefer much fatter men.” Both of them lick their lips in unison.

My body freezes at their words, unsure of how to take that.

“We’re joking, dear.

Come, don’t be afraid.”

Cerolus has been talking to The Maorok all this time, paying little attention to me, only briefly turning his head in my direction at times.

A younger Demon approaches me wearing similar attire to what Cerolus’ regular clothes look like, a simple crown on his horned head.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sarron, the first son of Herod Kreshorok.” He bows briefly and takes my hand to kiss it lightly, my cheeks reddening for a brief moment. His pale red skin looks eerily similar to Cerolus’, but his eyes are a deep blue instead. He is closer to me in height as well, my eye level reaching his chin.

“Hello, I am Sophia.” My trembling causes me to stutter for a bit, Sarron only responding with a small chuckle of his own. “It’s lovely to meet you, Sophia.”

One by one, I meet everyone Cerolus has told me about while we were travelling. They don’t seem anywhere near the stories I was told of their ruthlessness and terror. They don’t seem that different from us to be completely honest.

“So are you going to let us see the child, Herod, or do we have to humor you for longer?” Cerolus’ exclamation brings chuckles to the group.

“Of course, Uncle Cerolus, come, Feitora’s with the child now. You should see his eyes, he’s going to look just like me when he grows up!”

“You told me that when these two were born, and I fail to see the resemblance now.” Cerolus points towards Sarron and Hieron, and indeed they don’t look much alike. Hieron even has the coal skin Tiana possesses, only accentuating the differences.

“Bah, I sometimes hate that you remember stuff well, Uncle.”

I approach Sarron, as he seems the friendliest of the bunch. “So why does The Maorok call my husband “Uncle”?”

“Oh Uncle Cerolus didn’t like being called anything but that ever since we were little. He said other names made him feel old.” He laughs while talking. “Father told me that he once got beaten for using a different moniker, although I highly doubt that ever happened. He’s actually my grand-uncle, so that makes him the great-uncle to the Maorok. I’m surprised he never told you any of this, it’s not a secret, and it would’ve been a bad kept one at best.”

So he’s that old? Will he ever actually tell me any of that?

Our party moves through several corridors reaching a small room. A single woman cradles a small bundle in her arms inside.

Cerolus walks over to the woman, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Good to see you Feitora. I wish you all well in motherhood. Now let’s see this little lad, shall we?”

He takes the small bundle from her hands, a small gurgle coming from the blankets. I hesitantly move towards him, both eager and hesitant to look.

I move over to Cerolus’ side, and he slightly lowers his stance, allowing me to look at the baby. Its skin is bright red, small black eyes opening lightly, but otherwise he looks like a human baby through and through.

“What is the child’s name, Herod?”

“We were hoping you would name the child as the Elder One, Uncle.” Everybody else has moved away from us, only observing my husband with the newborn in his hands.

Cerolus takes a deep breath, as his hands move over the baby’s head, and a single sentence comes out of his mouth.

“Since the child is a Lilin like me, I shall name him Cerolus, the Ender of Wars.”