"Survive?" Aurean's voice cracked—anger flaring again, brighter this time. "So I'm not a bride... I'm prey?"
He stepped forward, the violet flower still clenched in his fist. "You dragged me here under threat of death! My family, my home—all held hostage so you can play cryptic god and tell me *I'm supposed to survive*? What kind of sick game is this?"
Varys turned.
And for the first time, Aurean saw it—not cruelty…
But something worse.
*Pain.*
Raw. Ancient. Buried beneath centuries of silence.
**"No game,"** Varys said—low, resonant—each word weighted like stone dropped into deep water. **"A curse."**
He raised his hand. Black glyphs flared to life in the air between them—an image formed: two figures bound by chains of light and shadow… one kneeling before a throne carved from bone and starlight… another screaming as fire consumed their skin—
Then—the image shattered.
"The bond demands an heir," Varys whispered, eyes darkening like storm clouds swallowing moonlight. "If none is given within one lunar cycle… the Demon Lords' oath turns back upon *me*. And when that happens…"
He met Aurean's gaze—
**"...I will burn... until nothing remains but ash."**
A beat passed.
Wind stilled.
Flowers dimmed.
Even the stars seemed to look away.
Aurean's breath trembled—not just from fear now—but something else…
*Recognition.*
Because suddenly he understood:
The monster wasn't holding him prisoner...
They were both trapped in the same cage—one forged by blood oaths no mortal hand could break.
And only one of them had ever been allowed to run away...
***
The moment stretched—thin, fragile—like a thread about to snap.
Then Aurean turned.
Not with panic. Not with tears. But cold, sharp resolve hardening in his chest.
He didn't run at first. He walked—back the way they came, past the glowing vines and shattered mirrors that now seemed to jeer at him with fractured images of a future he didn't want.
Behind him, Varys said nothing.
Aurean stepped through the silver mist veil—
And broke into a sprint down the obsidian halls lit by flickering blue flames that writhed like serpents on the walls. His breath came fast. Heart hammering against his ribs like it wanted out before the palace could swallow him whole.
*Almost there.*
The great onyx gates—the entrance—were in sight! Moonlight bled through cracks in towering pillars as wind howled outside like freedom itself calling his name—
Then—
**"You won't make it."**
The voice wasn't behind him anymore.
It was *everywhere.*
The ground beneath Aurean's feet shimmered—a sigil flared up from nowhere, golden chains erupting from stone to wrap around his wrists and ankles faster than thought!
He cried out as he was yanked backward—not violently… but gently, inevitably—as if gravity itself had decided he wasn't allowed to leave.
Varys stood calmly at the end of hall now cloaked in swirling shadows taller than any man should stand—with eyes burning like dying stars—but still…
**"I told you... this isn't imprisonment."**
He stepped forward slowly.
**"It's protection."**
"Protection?!" Aurean spat between gasps, struggling against unbreakable magic bonds still holding firm around trembling arms. "From what?! You?!"
Varys stopped just inches away—and for one breathless second… knelt before him on one knee so their eyes met level under dim cursed light…
His voice dropped low—a whisper laced with truth no mortal was meant to hear:
*"From what comes when I start screaming every night because my soul is peeling apart..."*
*"From what happens when your kind burns alive just being near me during eclipse week."*
*"And from whatever hunts those who try to flee our bond..."*
His gaze flickered past Aurean—to something beyond glass windows where sky split open for an instant—and then closed again too fast—
But not too fast for Aurean to see it:
Something vast.
Winged.
With hollow eyes hungry enough to eat hope whole...
And *it had been watching.*
Silence fell heavier than chains ever could.
Because now?
Aurean realized two things:
Running won't save him…
And maybe… just maybe…
the only thing more dangerous than staying here… is being left alone in a world where even demons fear what walks beside them unseen
"Eclipse week," Aurean breathed, the phrase hanging in the air like a death sentence.
Varys didn't answer right away. Instead, he lifted a hand—slowly—and the golden chains binding Aurean unraveled like snakes uncoiling into dust. The sigil beneath their feet faded.
But not his presence.
"You felt it," Varys said quietly, still kneeling, eyes locked on his with eerie intensity. "The thing beyond the veil… it knows you're here now."
A pause—just long enough for dread to sink deep.
**"And it will come for you when the red moon rises."**
Aurean rubbed his wrists where magic had bitten into skin—not bleeding, but burning faintly… as if marked.
"So that's your game?" he whispered hoarsely. "Fear? Monsters in shadows? Pretend this is kindness?"
"No," Varys stood again—towering—and turned toward one of the tall glass windows where darkness pressed too close against the glass… warping slightly at times... like something breathing from outside—
**"My game is keeping you alive until sunrise."**
He glanced back—just once—the ghost of something raw behind those sapphire eyes:
**"Because if I fail… I'll never forgive myself."**
Then he walked away without another word—forcing silence and distance between them like armor forged from centuries of solitude.
Left alone beneath trembling moonlight and whispering walls…
Aurean wrapped his arms around himself and stared at where that *thing* had been watching...
His legs wanted to run again.
His heart screamed *danger*.
But somewhere deeper?
Something else stirred…
Not fear.
Not anger anymore—
Curiosity?
Fascination?
Or worse…
The quiet ache of recognizing loneliness when you see it—even in a monster who calls himself a demon lord?
***
"Three nights," Aurean muttered under his breath as he leaned against a cool glass window. Outside, the sky flickered like a dying bulb—floods of darkness and light warring across the horizon.
Night had risen. And the first of three red moons was rising with it.
He hated how its glow made his skin shiver like something *alive.*
He hated that even more when he caught himself waiting for the Demon Lord to come back.
"Stupid," he growled, pacing instead—trying not to look outside—trying not to see whatever shadows the night kept breathing just beyond glass…
The hours dragged like a nightmare in slow motion. Aurean had tried to sleep, but shadows in the shape of wings had stalked his dreams like a hunter circling its prey.
Instead, he prowled the empty halls again, following blue flames that made every corner look sharper.
When he couldn't stand it anymore… he found himself standing just outside a tall archway in black marble.
On the other side? Varys' library.
Aurean hesitated.
His throat felt drier than desert dust.
But what else *was* there to do?
The library was silent. So silent Aurean could hear his own heartbeat.
Rows of obsidian bookshelves towered overhead, filled with tomes in languages he didn't understand. Candles flickered on the walls between them, casting long shadows that seemed to move when he wasn't looking at them straight on.
It was beautiful—and terrifying.
And at the end of one aisle—sitting alone at a long onyx desk… was Varys. As still as stone, with eyes fixed on the open book before him.
A single red tear streaked down the page Varys was reading—no, *bleeding* from his eye… but he didn't wipe it away.
Aurean froze.
It wasn't human. It couldn't be. The tear shimmered like molten ruby before being absorbed into the ancient parchment beneath trembling fingers—as if the book itself were drinking his pain.
Then—without looking up—Varys spoke:
**"You shouldn't be here."**
His voice was rougher than before. Broken at the edges, like stone cracking under heat no one else could feel.
Aurean swallowed hard—but didn't leave. Couldn't. Not after seeing *that.*
"I heard… whispers," he said quietly, stepping forward one careful footstep at a time. "About eclipse week—the blood moons... that they make your kind lose control."
Varys let out a slow breath through clenched teeth—as if each word hurt to speak:
**"Not lose control."**
*"Worse."*
He finally lifted his gaze—and Aurean flinched.
The icy sapphire blue of Varys' eyes had darkened… now flickering with veins of crimson fire pulsing deep within like embers waking from long sleep.
*"Remember who I am, mortal,"* he whispered, low and dangerous — yet somehow pleading — *"I don't go mad when these moons rise..."*
***"I become what I was always meant to be—the Demon Lord of Ruin."***
And then—
From somewhere far below in the palace…
A *thud.*
Like something heavy dragging itself upward through endless halls made for gods—not things that crawled between shadows on broken bones and stolen breath…
Another pause.
Then another thud closer this time—and a sound—
Faint…
But unmistakable:
***Scraping claws on stone…***