The Damned Demon

Rowena broke the seal and unfolded the letter, her eyes scanning the content quickly.

But the words on the paper made her eyes quiver as she read,

[ Did you know that your husband loves to spend more time with the humans, your enemies, rather than you? You don't believe me? Check the Sighststone behind this letter. ]

Rowena's fingers tensed slightly as she held the parchment, her eyes tracing the insidious words that threatened to shatter the tranquility of her heart. With a hesitant twist, she turned the letter over. There, affixed to the back like a malignant growth, was a small, dark red sphere— a Sightstone. Its deep, blood-like hue seemed almost accusatory under her scrutinizing gaze. Removing it with a careful touch, Rowena felt the cool, smooth surface of the sphere against her palm, a stark contrast to the heat of the anger beginning to simmer within her.

A war raged inside her— one side urging her to cast aside this venomous letter and its companion, to shatter them into oblivion. But curiosity, that relentless, gnawing beast, clawed at her resolve. Asher had always been a closed book regarding his missions, his reasons cloaked in duty and silence. Respect for his secrets had always been her creed, his trust her sanctuary. She also knew he had been hiding something else…something personal that had to do with whatever haunted him according to what the royal seer had told her.

But she believed he would tell her one day when he was ready instead of trying to force him.

Disappointment in herself crept in, souring her thoughts. How could she doubt him, even for a breath? Yet, wasn't it her right, as both queen and wife, to seek out the snake that was trying to target her and her husband?

With a deep, steadying breath, Rowena activated the sphere. It pulsed once, ominously, before erupting into a swirl of dark red light.

A projection flickered to life, casting ghostly shadows across the room. It showed Asher and Lysandra, locked in what appeared to be an intimate embrace. The scene displayed was intimate, Asher and Lysandra in a moment that seemed far beyond the platonic bounds of political alliance. They were kissing—not a mere peck of strategic affection, but a kiss that held an emotional depth, betraying more than mere political convenience.

She knew of Asher's calculated decision to draw Lysandra closer by impregnating her to bind her to his plans and also earn her trust to take control over her kingdom and prevent the war.

But the sight stirred a storm within her, a tumult of emotions and questions crashing against the shores of her heart. He can't possibly be in love with the queen of their enemy kingdom, can he? Why would he fall in love with a draconian like her, who had always helped Drakar no matter the amount of blood she had to shed. Would Asher let her blind him by using his feelings?

Rowena felt anxious since Lysandra was almost 200 years old, a seasoned veteran, while Asher was just a boy in her eyes. Who knows if someone like her was toying with his feelings to use him?

But she also remembered Asher telling her that Lysandra wasn't as evil as Drakar and that she was different from most draconians.

If he had that much confidence in his words, could it really be true? Maybe it is. She shouldn't try to overthink and let this mysterious perpetrator win by making her doubt Asher. In the end, Lysandra can't betray Asher even if she wanted to since she was impregnated by him. There should be nothing to worry about.

Without thinking about it for a second longer, she swiped her hand through the air, a gesture that summoned the next projection. The image flickered and shifted, revealing Asher, in his human avatar body that moved with purpose among a cadre of Hunters.

Rowena's breath hitched, her eyes widening as the scene unfolded. She knew of Asher's covert dealings, of the cult-like allegiance he had fostered among certain Hunters who served him.

Yet, nothing had prepared her for the sight that now gripped her—Asher, in whispered conference within the cloistered confines of a dark room, with a Hunter whose striking blue eyes and flowing blue hair shimmered with a familiar and haunting light. Both of them were standing in that dark room alone and talking to each other intensely.

It was her—the daughter of the leader of the WHA, a Hunter born from a lineage that had taken part in the battle where her father ended up dying...the daughter of Derek Sterling.

Someone like her can never become a soulservant or a slave without letting her father know. So how could such a one serve Asher willingly unless tethered by hidden motives or darker loyalties? Rowena's mind raced, threading through possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Asher, surely he must be aware of this unless he-

But no, she reined in her spiraling thoughts, staunching the flow of doubt. Rowena refused to let suspicion taint her trust in him so easily. She would confront Asher, hear the truth from his own lips. With a flicker of resolve, she deactivated the Sightstone, the room dimming as the spectral images dissolved into the creeping shadows.

Yet, as the glow faded, new words seared themselves onto the parchment as if conjured by some unseen hand:

[You might be planning to ask him about what you saw. Do so if you wish, but then you will never discover the secrets he is hiding or why he prefers the company of humans so much. You must be curious as to what kind of 'past' he is hiding from you. He will never tell you on his own. The choice is up to you.]

Rowena's fingers clenched, crumpling the edges of the letter as her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Her lips pressed into a thin line, not just with the chill of the revelations, but with the weight of the decision that now lay before her. She knew the importance of keeping a clear head and the need to consider all angles before jumping to conclusions. Yet, in that moment, her role as a queen was overshadowed by her vulnerability as a wife.

She had never felt so much dilemma in her life before. She knew what was the right one to make but the logical one was the other.

She would have ignored this since Asher can't have a past she doesn't know since he was bedridden before her eyes for almost his entire life.

But considering what the royal seer once said to her, she held doubts, wondering if this 'past' wasn't just a simple past but something more than what she was imagining.

—

The crimson sun was barely cresting the horizon when Asher set foot on the shores of the Naiadon Tribe, the rhythmic lapping of the waves a soft accompaniment to the more dramatic scene unfolding before him.

There, amidst the foamy embrace of the sea, stood Callisa, her massive pincers slicing through the air as she launched powerful water projectiles into the distance. The spectacle was nothing short of majestic, a raw display of power that seemed to wrestle with the very forces of nature.

Perched atop Callisa's immense, black carapace was Lori, her serpentine body coiled with an air of regal command. It was as if she was using Callisa's carapace as a majestic seat for her to sit upon and teach Callisa based on the echoes of Lori's voice he could hear. However, what struck Asher as odd, though, was the incongruous sight of a cowboy hat perched atop her head—a whimsical human affectation that seemed bizarrely out of place yet oddly fitting for Lori's eccentric character.

It made him wonder if she really liked using human stuff. Fortunately, she was powerful and crazy enough for demons here not to question her about it. Some demons do wear human things as trophies, after all.

"You can do it a bit sssstronger, Krakie. Now do it again as I told you. Make it as powerful as possible so that you can ssssurprise your Master with it soon by using it upon him. That is the only way to make him proud. He is that kind of man if you get my hint," Lori's voice carried over the water, her serpentine head raised high as she nodded to herself.

"Use it upon whom, Lori?" Asher's voice cut through the air, causing Lori's eyes to widen dramatically, a flicker of awkward panic crossing her features as she choked on her next words.

"Kookoo!" Callisa's reaction was a mix of surprise and delight as she turned to face her Master, her massive pincers clashing together in a display of excitement while turning around Lori to face Asher as well.

"Ohuhu, look who sssshowed up, the great and powerful Immortal King. Don't misunderstand. The powerful gusts of wind here can play tricks on your ears," Lori managed, her voice a silky smooth cover-up, her smile flashing as slick as her scales.

Asher let out a brief scoff, his smile knowing, "Sure. But now I have something important to talk about with you. So why don't you kindly follow me over there," he gestured toward a large rock that jutted from the sandy shore, a private alcove away from curious ears.

Lori tapped Callisa's carapace affectionately, "Your sensei will be back soon, Krakie. Just keep practicing what I taught you until then."

"Sensei?" Asher mumbled with a baffled look.

"Kookooo," Callisa mewled, her pincers coming together in a semblance of a bow, an innocent student eager to please.

Asher couldn't help but scoff at the absurdity of the lessons, wondering what other nonsense Lori might have imparted, "I will be back soon to spend time with you, Callisa," he assured, earning an excited clatter of pincers in response, "Kookoo!"

Once secluded by the large rock, Lori wasted no time. Wrapping a red scarf around her neck, she asked, "What is so important that you wanted some secrecy?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief and anticipation. "Don't tell me that you finally—"

"None of that bullshit. I am here to ask you to help me build something powerful enough to destroy buildings protected with legendary grade barriers," Asher cut in, his expression grave and his tone laced with urgency.

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