Crown of Frost & shadows

Chapter 4 - Demons Part 1

Something poked Alarielle’s face, and she stirred, blinking against the dim light filtering into her consciousness. As her mind began to clear, she heard whispering, a young voice filled with curiosity.

“She looks like a fae. So cool! Her skin is glowing….. I wonder what type of fae she is.”

Alarielle’s heart raced as she registered the words, and a rush of panic surged through her. She attempted to sit up, but a deep male voice cut through the murmurings.

“Stop poking the girl and go inform Zār”

The urgency in his tone pulled Alarielle fully into awareness, and she squinted into the brightness of the morning light streaming into the cave, trying to see who was speaking. As her eyes adjusted, she caught sight of a small boy with dark hair, olive skin, and black eyes, peering at her with unabashed curiosity. His hair was tousled, and two small almost white pointed horns poked out from it, giving him an endearing yet mischievous appearance..

“Who are you?” Alarielle managed to croak, her voice raspy from sleep, as she realized the boy didn’t look like a fae.

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise, and he took a step back. “Oh! You’re awake! I’m Malrek, you can call me Mal... I.. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just… well, I’ve never seen a fae before.”

“Mal… stop gawking!” The deep voice commanded again, more forcefully this time. A tall figure stepped out of the shadows, silhouetted against the faint light.

He was a broad, muscular man with a thick salt-and-pepper beard and matching hair that framed his chiseled features. Just like the kid, he also had two large black horns sticking out of his hair. His black eyes gleamed with an intensity that could pierce through the dimness. Olive skin stretched taut over well-defined muscles, and he wore a suit of black armor that seemed to absorb the light around him. A black sword hung from his hip, its hilt intricately designed, and a scar ran across his face from left to right. He exuded an aura of authority and strength.

“Get up, faeling” her magic commanded in her mind, and Alarielle scrambled to her feet, heart racing.

“Who are they” she questioned, panic lacing her thoughts.

“Demons,” her magic replied, the tone almost dismissive.

Her eyes widened in shock as she took in their appearances more clearly. “What do you mean, demons?” she shot back. “Demons in the fae realm?”

“I don’t think we are in the fae realm” her magic replied with a tone of uncertainty.

Panic gripped Alarielle as she frantically searched for an escape route. The two figures loomed before her, their intense gazes weighing heavily on her.

In that moment, Alarielle felt like a cornered animal, every instinct screaming for her to flee. She darted a glance toward the cave’s mouth, trying to gauge the distance between her and freedom. Could she slip past them before they realized what she was planning?

“woah .. calm down. we aren’t going to eat you” the kid, Malrek, he said his name was, snickered.

The older man shot a sharp glance at the boy. “Go. Find. Zār” he gritted out, his voice low and commanding.

“I’m going! I’m going!” Malrek whined, his enthusiasm fading as he darted out of the cave, his footsteps echoing against the rocky walls.

As soon as Malrek disappeared into the light emitting from the cave’s mouth, the air grew heavy with silence. Alarielle’s heart raced, and she turned her attention back to the imposing figure before her. The man’s intense black eyes studied her, his expression unreadable beneath his thick salt-and-pepper beard.

“What do you want with me?” Alarielle asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her.

The man narrowed his eyes at Alarielle, his expression hardening. “What are you doing here in the Shadow Realm, fae girl? Who do you work for?” His voice was deep and gravelly, a tone that brooked no argument.

Alarielle swallowed hard, her mind racing. “I don’t work for anyone,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “I... I’m lost. I don’t even know how I got here.”

The man regarded her skeptically, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Lost, huh? You think me stupid to believe that?”

“I didn’t choose to come here!” Alarielle snapped, a flash of frustration breaking through her fear. “I was running for my life! If I’d known this was the Shadow Realm, I wouldn’t have…” She trailed off, realizing how hopeless her situation was.

The man leaned closer, scrutinizing her intently. “Running from what? how did you get past the veil?”

Alarielle hesitated, her heart racing as she weighed her options. She could sense the tension in his posture, the way he was ready to pounce on any sign of weakness. “I… I don’t remember how I crossed the veil,” she stammered, searching for the right words. Alarielle’s pulse quickened as she pressed herself against the cave wall, feeling the cold stone at her back. “Did… you track me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The brute of a demon scowled, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied her. “Nobody crosses the veil without us knowing. Nobody. Not even tiny fae girls,” he grumbled, his voice like gravel, laced with suspicion.

Alarielle’s mind raced. She had no idea how she’d ended up here, but it was clear these demons weren’t going to let her leave easily.

Footsteps echoed through the cave, and Alarielle’s eyes flicked toward the newcomer. She pressed her back against the cave wall,

her gaze narrowing as she studied him. This demon was nearly as tall as the brute but had a leaner build and moved with a smooth, almost predatory grace. Long black hair framed his face, curling around the large black horns protruding from his skull. His eyes, dark and glinting with amusement, locked onto her. His features were sharp and well-defined, his jaw covered in a shadow of stubble, and his full lips curved into a self-assured smirk. It was clear he knew just how attractive he was.

“Thalorin, I’m pretty sure that’s a woman,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “And quite a stunning one—not that you’d notice, of course.”

Thalorin’s eyes rolled, his expression remaining stern. “Ravareth, this isn’t a game. She’s a trespasser, and she might be a threat.”

Ravareth’s smirk only grew wider, and he tilted his head, studying Alarielle with an appraising look. “A threat? This beautiful thing?” He let out a soft chuckle. “She doesn’t look like much of a danger, Thalorin. Besides, if she crossed the veil, she might be more interesting than you give her credit for.”

Alarielle bristled at his dismissive tone but kept her expression guarded. She needed to be cautious. These demons didn’t seem hostile yet, but their intentions were still unclear.

“I didn’t come here by choice,” she insisted, her eyes darting between the two. “And I’m not looking for trouble.”

Thalorin’s eyes narrowed. “Whether you seek it or not, trouble finds anyone who crosses into our realm. You’re a threat until we know who you are and why you’re here.”

Ravareth crossed his arms, leaning casually against the cave wall. “How about you tell us your name, then? Unless you prefer to keep being “Beauty’—though, I think it suits you.”

Alarielle clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to lash out. “Alarielle,” she said finally, her tone cautious. “And I’m not here to cause harm.”

Thalorin glanced at Ravareth, who raised an eyebrow. “Fine, A-l-a-r-i-e-l-l-e, But you’ll still need to answer our questions. It’s not every day a fae crosses into the Shadow Realm.”

Alarielle’s eyes flashed with irritation as Thalorin deliberately spelled out her name, each syllable drawn out as if mocking her. She kept her stance defensive, her back still against the cave wall, but she refused to show any more fear.

“I’ve told you, I don’t know how I got here,” she repeated, her voice firm despite the unease curling in her stomach. “I was running, and when I crossed, everything changed.”

Ravareth’s gaze softened slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Running from what, exactly? And why here, of all places?”

“None of your business,” Alarielle shot back, but the words lacked venom. She knew she was at their mercy and didn’t want to provoke them further

Thalorin’s expression remained stern, his eyes assessing her every move. “It’s not that simple. The veil between realms isn’t something you just stumble through. Either you were brought here, or you have a power you’re not telling us about.”

Ravareth’s smirk returned, and he leaned in a little closer. “Or maybe both. Care to enlighten us, Beauty?”

Alarielle’s fingers twitched at her side. “I have no intention of staying here. And I only got here by accident”

“You can’t be a witch; they’re human, and you look too put together to be a windling. So just fae, then. But your eyes... I’ve never seen a fae with eyes like that. What are you, girl?” Thalorin’s voice was low and probing, his gaze unwavering as he scrutinized her.

Alarielle stiffened, instinctively lowering her eyes to hide the faint glow she knew was there. “I’m just a fae,” she insisted, her voice firm despite the rapid beat of her heart. “Nothing more.”

Thalorin didn’t seem convinced. “Just a fae wouldn’t cross the veil, and just a fae wouldn’t have eyes like those.”

Ravareth leaned in, his curiosity clear. “Is there something you’re hiding, Beauty? Because you’re definitely not like any fae I’ve seen before.”

“What are you? The demon guard?” Alarielle shot back, her defiance igniting a flicker of courage within her. “If I was a threat, I would have done something by now, wouldn’t I?”

“Not if you’re a spy,” Thalorin countered, his tone flat and serious. “And yes, we technically are the demon guard.” Ravareth’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the exchange. “That’s right, little fae. So if you’re not a threat, what exactly are you doing wandering around our realm?”

Alarielle felt the pressure of their gazes, and her frustration surged. “Asking me the same thing over and over won’t change my answer!” she gritted out, crossing her arms defiantly. “I’m lost! I didn’t choose to come here, and I just want to find a way back to my own world if you let me go.”

“Chain her,” a dismissive third voice came from behind Ravareth, cutting through the tension. Alarielle hadn’t even heard any footsteps approach and hadn’t noticed him before he spoke, looking straight at Thalorin as if she were invisible.

“I’m not a fugitive for you to chain!” Alarielle spat, her anger and frustration peaking. The new demon’s gaze met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were swirling silver, almost white, framed by dark, long lashes. A faint scar ran across his right cheek, accentuating the sharpness of his jaw and the fullness of his lips. His hair was short and dark—no, it was blue, a deep hue that seemed almost black. The large, elongated horns on his head were the same shimmering silver as his eyes. He towered over Thalorin, at least a foot taller, with a broad frame covered in black fighting leather. Two swords were strapped to his back, the hilts peeking out from over his shoulders. He was the most handsome man Alarielle had ever seen.

“Chain her and put her on one of the horses. We will take her with us to the Fae realm and have Magra find out what she is and what she’s doing here,” Zār repeated, his gaze shifting from Alarielle to Ravareth.

Ravareth’s features transformed into a scowl. “Zār, you can’t hand her over to Magra of all people! The b***h would eat her alive.”

Zār arched an eyebrow, unfazed by Ravareth’s concern. But before Ravareth could protest further, Thalorin fished out a chain from a pouch fastened to his belt and moved toward Alarielle.

The chain glinted ominously in his hands, and Alarielle’s breath hitched as her body began to shake. Her eyes were glued to the chain, memories she wished to forget holding her in a chokehold. Panic surged through her, bringing with it the weight of past traumas.

“Please… please…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go with you… please.”

Blood drummed in her ears, and the world seemed to close in on her. Keep your eyes closed, wildflower. No matter what you hear, once the guards enter, you close your eyes, okay, baby? Her mother’s voice drifted through her head, echoing in a way that made her chest ache.

Breathe, faeling. Breathe. Not the time to show weakness. The arrogant tone of her magic reverberated through her mind, a sharp contrast to her panic. Alarielle struggled to find her breath, to steady her racing heart.

Thalorin halted, the chain still in his hand. The moment stretched, taut with tension.

He looked back at the large demon looming behind them. Zār was looking straight at her, his face expressionless.

“Bind her now,” Zār commanded, his voice cold and unyielding. With those words, he turned and walked away, his presence fading .

Alarielle felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her as Thalorin stepped closer. She backed away, making her body as small as possible. Help me, she called out to her magic.

We can’t show them what we can do yet, faeling. Just hold on for now, it replied, the arrogance in its tone grating against her rising fear.

I can’t! she responded, desperation creeping into her thoughts as Thalorin’s grip closed around her wrists. Alarielle jumped and struggled, but he overpowered her effortlessly

The moment she felt the cold chain touch her skin, her body went rigid. A woman screamed in her head—Mama!—and suddenly, Alarielle felt her body go limp, the world around her fading to black.

In that dark void, memories surged forth unbidden, each one a blade carving deeper into her soul. She saw her mother’s face, gentle yet marked by a sorrow she couldn’t understand. The flickering dim light of their cell, the warmth of her mother’s embrace, and then the darkness—the guards, the screams, the pain.

Alarielle’s heart raced in the abyss, her magic thrumming in her veins, restless and furious. Hold on Faeling, get yourself together

But the chains wrapped tighter around her mind, just as they did her hands, pulling her deeper into the shadows and suffocating the flicker of defiance that burned within her. She pushed against the memories, against the pain that threatened to engulf her.

As the vision began to clear, Alarielle realized she was being carried by Ravareth, his strong arms cradling her as he moved swiftly out of the cave. His face was grim, a stark contrast to the playful demeanor he’d shown before. The urgency in his expression sent a jolt of fear through her, but the haze of her consciousness made it hard to comprehend what was happening.

Ravareth’s grip was firm yet careful, and as they emerged into the dim light outside the cave, the sun was at its highest, shining through the trees. A group of demons clad in black armor stood nearby, their imposing figures casting long shadows on the ground. Two men were mounted on dark horses, their eyes scanning the area with alertness. In front of them, a woman and another male demon stood conversing with Zār, who appeared deeply engaged in their discussion.

Alarielle’s heart raced as she took in the scene. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the kind that made her instincts scream for her to flee. She was still suspended in Ravareth’s arms, and she could feel the weight of their gazes on her, assessing, calculating.

“Put me down! I can walk just fine. You already have me in chains!” she gritted out, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

He glanced down at her, his eyes momentarily softening. “You’re not going to faint again if I put you down? I’d hate to drag you,” he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Just let me stand on my own!” Alarielle shot back, her pride flaring. She needed to reclaim some control, to stand on her own two feet, even if it was just a small act of defiance.

The demon looked at her for a moment before replying, “Fine.” He set her down, and Alarielle struggled to get her footing, her balance thrown off by the chains binding her arms.

“f**k,” she muttered, trying to steady herself. She shifted her weight, feeling the cool metal of the chains pull at her wrists, a stark reminder of her captivity.

Ravareth let out a whistle, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. “Such a foul mouth on such a pretty little thing.”

“Shut up,” she shot back, her annoyance flaring again. The last thing she needed was his condescending commentary. She took a deep breath, attempting to center herself. “Stop mocking me like I’m entertainment for you.”

“Oh, but you are,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’ve become quite the spectacle, little fae. We rarely get to deal with someone like you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, irritation bubbling just below the surface. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re different,” he said, shrugging slightly. “Most fae don’t wander into our territory uninvited. And they certainly don’t end up in chains. You’re a curiosity.”

“So you let others just go?” Alarielle asked, her tone sharp.

“No,” Ravareth bent down to her level, a dark smile spreading across his face. “They die.” He straightened, clearly enjoying the horrified expression on Alarielle’s face.

“Are you both done? Can we go now while we still have some daylight?” an annoyed voice interrupted, coming from the bastard demon who had insisted on chaining her.

Zār, she recognized him, his expression as cold as ever.

Ravareth straightened, his playful demeanor slipping away as he turned to face Zār. “Alright, alright.” he said, brushing off the tension that had built up between them.

“Magra, get the girl on a mare. We need to get going now!” Zār called out to the demoness among the group. Alarielle’s gaze shifted to the woman approaching her, a striking contrast to the dark-haired demons surrounding her. Magra had white hair that flowed gracefully around her shoulders, black lean horns adorned her head like a crown. her features soft yet sharp with bright red eyes glinting in sunlight. She wore black armor that hugged her form, a bow slung across her back, and walked with a fluidity that made Alarielle feel clumsy in comparison.

“Listen closely,” Zar’s voice cut through the forest again as Alarielle’s attention returned to him. “You will listen to every word Magra says as if it’s the word of the Lord and will not try to escape.”

“And why should I listen to anything a bunch of demons tell me?” Alarielle spat, her anger flaring. The man infuriated her.

He leaned down, close enough that his breath fanned across her cheek, and the scent of him invaded her senses—something like smoldering wood and the faint tang of iron, mixed with an notes of cinnamon, almost musky undertone. It was overwhelming, a blend of danger and something strangely intoxicating, making her stomach twist with both fear and anger.

“Because, star lily,” he replied, his voice smooth yet laced with menace, “it’s the only way you get to keep that pretty little head of yours attached to your body. Don’t test my patience. I don’t really have much.”

Alarielle leaned in close, her eyes locked onto his until their breaths mingled. “And you, asshole, don’t have to have your face in my space to talk to me. Use your alpha s**t on someone else.” She bared her teeth in a sultry smile, defiance burning in her gaze as she refused to back down, even with the chains binding her.

Ravareth’s chuckle came from behind Zar, and the larger demon narrowed his eyes at Alarielle before his gaze briefly dropped to her lips, then locked onto her eyes. With a scowl, he straightened. “Make trouble, and you will not see the next sunrise,” he bit out before turning and walking toward a black mare.

The horse was gorgeous, its silky black fur shimmering in the light. It looked majestic—almost ethereal—an infuriating contrast to the demon now patting it down. Alarielle clenched her fists, annoyed that someone who looked so good could be such a jerk on the inside.