Errant Wings (BL)

The halls of Lilith's domain were unlike anything else in Kur'thaal. While the Abyss was harsh, broken, and carved from jagged stone, her sanctuary pulsed with an eerie, primordial life. The walls—woven from obsidian roots—shifted with slow, living movement, as if breathing in rhythm with some unseen force.

Vael walked the winding path toward her throne, his bare feet silent on the black stone. The glow of his runic markings pulsed faintly across his skin, but they were not the only thing that shone.

A faint aura of shifting energy flickered around him, swirling in delicate waves.

For most of his life, he had been able to suppress the display—a unique anomaly of his being. Unlike other demons, whose energy remained contained within them, Vael's emotions leaked out, taking visible form.

Tonight, that energy fluctuated—subtle, but undeniable.

At first, it shimmered in calm silver, matching his usual self-control. But as he drew closer to Lilith's chamber, a flicker of deep violet rippled through the aura, betraying his inner frustration.

Steady yourself, he reminded himself. Do not let her see weakness.

But in Lilith's presence, nothing was hidden.

At the center of her sanctuary, Lilith sat atop a throne formed from the twisting roots of the Abyss itself. A dark, winged creature coiled at her feet—something newborn, its molten eyes blinking slowly as it took in the world for the first time.

She was creating again.

Vael exhaled softly. She is always creating.

Lilith's long, silken hair cascaded over her shoulders as she traced a single claw over the creature's head. She didn't look up when she spoke.

"You rarely visit me, my child."

Vael stopped before her throne, keeping his stance relaxed. "I rarely have reason to."

At that, Lilith smiled. It was not warm, nor was it cold—it was simply amused.

"And yet, you are here now. That must mean something troubles you."

Her voice was smooth as silk, but Vael's aura betrayed him before he could answer.

A flicker of dark crimson pulsed from his body—anger, irritation, unease.

Lilith's golden eyes flickered toward it, her lips curving ever so slightly.

"Ah… I see. Something has unsettled you."

Vael clenched his jaw. He focused, willing his aura to dim. The red light faded, but not completely.

"The war is coming, whether we are ready or not. Nethros prepares, the legions stir, and Asphodel has not lessened its attacks. The time for passive survival is over."

Lilith sighed, her fingers still stroking the newly created beast. "You sound like Nethros."

"For once, he is right."

Her golden eyes finally lifted, sharp and knowing. "And you, Vael? You have never been a creature of war. Why do you concern yourself with this now?"

For the briefest moment, Vael hesitated.

The energy around him quivered, streaked with a flash of deep blue—uncertainty.

But he was not ready to speak of what he had felt when the portal had opened. He was not ready to admit that a force beyond Kur'thaal had touched him.

Instead, he took a slow breath and said, "Because we cannot afford to be weak. If Asphodel sees us as nothing more than filth to be wiped away, then they will never stop hunting us. We need to be stronger. We need to evolve."

Lilith hummed softly, tilting her head. "Strength is not always found in war, my dear one. Sometimes, it is found in knowing what to protect."

A wave of brilliant gold flickered in Vael's aura—a rare sign of conviction.

"Then protect Kur'thaal. Stop pretending that we can endure endless attacks without consequence. We need to strike back, or we will always be on the defensive."

A silence stretched between them.

For a long time, Lilith simply watched him, as if weighing something unseen.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

Lilith rose from her throne. The creature at her feet—still small, still forming—stretched its wings uncertainly, as if sensing that its mother was about to change the world.

She stepped toward Vael, the air around her shifting, warping with the weight of her power. Though she did not raise her voice, her words carried a quiet finality.

"Very well."

Vael's breath caught. His energy pulsed brighter, reflecting his shock—a deep violet, then a sudden flicker of silver.

"You agree?"

Lilith's gaze flickered with something unreadable. "Kur'thaal will not be defenseless. But I do not fight as Nethros does. I do not crave war for the sake of war."

She lifted a hand, and the roots of the Abyss trembled. The very walls of her domain sighed, as if awakening.

Vael's aura shuddered, fluctuating between deep indigo and molten red—conflicted anticipation.

"You want strength? Then I will give you something new."

Lilith turned away from him, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I have shaped the demons of Kur'thaal for centuries. But now, it is time to shape something more. If Asphodel wants war... then we shall give them something they have never seen before."

Vael watched as Lilith stretched out her hands, and the Abyss itself seemed to bend toward her will.

This was why she was feared.

She was not simply a ruler.

She was a creator.

And whatever she was about to bring into existence... would be unlike anything Asphodel had ever faced.

His aura pulsed wildly now, a storm of silver, crimson, and deep indigo, mirroring the chaos in his chest.

For the first time in his long life, he felt anticipation.

He did not know what Lilith would create.

But he knew it would change everything.