The Demon Queen's Royal Consort

... I dreamed I was orbiting the cosmos, like space dust carried away by the currents of the universe. This is my favorite dream. Whenever I'm here, I can simply be myself. I realize I'm nothing, compared to the vast celestial expanse. And this realization, which would terrify me in other contexts, here sets me free. There are no expectations, no judgments, just pure existence amidst the cosmic dance. I feel the currents of the universe gently pulling and pushing me, guiding me along invisible paths between spiral galaxies and colorful nebulae. There is no need to control anything, to cling to anything. I just let myself go, merging with the flow, becoming an integral part of the silent symphony of space.

I open my mouth and scream with all my might. No sound escapes, but I feel relief from the weight on my shoulders.

It's funny, when I'm not here, I feel trapped in my body, in a shell, in an identity, in a set of rules and expectations. But here, in the cosmos, I am free. I am pure energy, consciousness floating in the vastness. I have no form, no weight, no past, no future. Only the eternal present, the constant now of cosmic existence.

I watch stars being born and dying, galaxies colliding and merging, all on a timescale that transcends logical comprehension. And even in the face of such grandeur, I don't feel lost. On the contrary, I feel deeply connected. Every atom of my being vibrates in harmony with the universe, as though I were a note in an endless melody.

Sometimes, I wonder: "Is this my true home?"

The morning breeze touched her flawless face, as white as porcelain. Her long white hair swayed in a gentle dance, caressed by the wind. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing mesmerizing red eyes. Her body, nude beneath the finest silk sheets, stretched gracefully. With her awakening, the universe seemed to vibrate: the brightest colors, the most intense aromas, the birds' songs more joyful than ever.

Then, her gaze fixed, the daydream dissipated, and a terrifying presence flooded the room. Golden magical runes were instantly activated, suppressors meant to contain destruction. Even with them, her overwhelming aura leaked out, echoing down the hall.

Outside, there was no one. Throughout the pavilion, not a sign of life. Absolute silence. Even the birds flying near the tower, the structure's focal point, had hastily flown away.

"Ugh…" A long sigh reverberated through the room. Her gaze radiated power, intensity, and fury.

The presence began to subside, the golden runes' light dimming. Her eyes, once full of life, her sensual face, her divine expressions that could make the stars bow, slowly shifted into cold indifference.

As the runes deactivated, a shadow emerged from beneath one of the doors, just a few meters away, and solidified.

"Majesty, your clothes are set aside in the closet, for after your bath. I'll prepare breakfast once you allow it."

Slowly, Selene rose and gave a subtle nod to the shadow. It was an unusual day. Normally, only a few minutes of sleep mentally recharged her. Rest wasn't even a necessity at her level of power, but there was something invigorating for her mind in these brief moments of respite that, every few weeks, she allowed herself to indulge in.

From the polished jade wall, indentations with glowing filaments activated, and a cold shower washed over her slim, firm, sensual, and powerful body.

Within minutes, Selene returned dressed as usual: comfortable pants, a long-sleeved cotton shirt rolled at the wrists, delicate high-heeled shoes, and her long, silky hair blowing freely. The breakfast table was already set.

**

"Click-clack." "Click-clack." "Click-clack." "Click-clack."

Powerful footsteps echoed down a hallway illuminated by the morning light in the center of the Demon Kingdom's castle. Two guards immediately opened the doors for the approaching figures.

Inside, a semicircular table with six chairs stood before a throne, five steps above the room's floor. Six senior demons were seated, waiting for their monarch: four men and two women.

Selene passed them, followed by her shadow, ascended the steps, and slowly sat on the throne.

"Let's begin!"

A tall, extremely thin demon, almost skeletal, with long white hair now thin and sparse, falling to his waist, and a face marked with deep wrinkles, stood up. In his hand, an organized notebook with papers magically began to float before his eyes.

"Majesty," Valerius greeted. "The reports on Drakk 'Miracle Claws' pilgrimage have arrived." Each sheet flew toward the other council members, and one in particular moved toward Selene on the throne.

"He's passed through the Orcs' land, stayed six months in the Elves' tree-city, and now he's in the human kingdom, near our borders," Valerius reported. His voice was light, slightly raspy but pleasant.

"According to the Shadow Unit, Drakk will cross our borders in six to eight months. It's time to put our plan into action." His gestures showed years of experience, and there was no hint of flattery in his tone.

"I agree," said an imposing lord. Despite his advanced age, his body showed years of physical enhancement. He had an upright posture, white hair, and a prominent bald spot, wearing ceremonial black armor.

"Cassian, the troglodyte, as always! Wait until you're called before speaking," retorted a lady named Isolde. Both shared a stern expression, upright posture, and advanced age. However, Isolde wore formal linen clothing and still had beautiful, shiny black hair.

Before more biting words were exchanged, Selene raised her hand slightly, signaling for Valerius to continue.

"As discussed before, the Shadow Unit reported that Drakk's reception and his needs were met with legendary weapons and armor, worthy of imperial vaults." The elders showed surprise at the report.

"From your words, it seems more than one weapon was gifted," asked a short, slightly hunched demon, with a thick white beard covering his face and black blindfolds over his eyes.

"Correct, Master Silas," Valerius confirmed.

"According to the report, the Orcs received three of these weapons, the Elves two. As for the humans, it's still too early to know."

"How did those thick-headed Orcs manage to fare better than the Leaf-Eaters?" asked the second woman on the council, Lyra. Tall, slender, an ethereal beauty even in her aged form, with beautiful silver hair and a blurry aura that, unless scrutinized, would be unnoticed.

"That's the issue: no one knows what he's searching for," replied Valerius.

A moment of silence passed through the room before being broken by Selene's words.

"Inspiration. He's on the edge," Selene said, with apathy and indifference.

The atmosphere in the room cooled briefly before the discussions heated up again.

"Inspiration isn't something easily found. What did the Orcs do to receive three gifts?" asked Lord Marius, with a fragile appearance, though his posture still held a trace of his former elegance, the traits of an old retired noble.

"The Orcs did what they always do: fights, death, and savagery. According to the information, they organized a tournament, with only one rule: everyone had to use weapons," Valerius answered.

"That makes sense. Even savages like them know that nothing inspiring would come from a blacksmith forging legendary weapons while watching a bunch of Orcs brawling," commented Cassian.

Valerius sat down after delivering the report, and the discussion continued.

"Our strategies will have to change. The tournament we planned for the end of the year will just be the same old for Drakk," observed Isolde.

"I still think it's the best option. Weapons are tools of death, and each race has its own way of killing," retorted Cassian, with an obviously sharp tone.

"Weapons are also for protection!" argued Silas. "I also think that just a tournament is superficial. What gives weapons meaning is who wields them."

Lord Valerius raised an eyebrow at Silas' comment. That elder, although blind, showed an insight that surpassed everyone else present. An old alchemist who, even without vision, had walked a path many had considered impossible.

"You seem to have an idea, Silas," asked Lyra.

A faint smile appeared on the lips of the small elder.