Crown of Frost & shadows

Chapter 8 - Child of the Night

Alarielle sat by a tranquil lake, its surface reflecting the starry sky above so perfectly that it resembled a lake of stars. She wasn’t sure when she arrived, how she got there, or why, but none of that seemed to matter. The peaceful sounds of the trees swaying in the wind and the earthy aroma of the night grounded her. She closed her eyes, a soft breeze brushing her face, and a faint smile crept across her lips.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” A woman’s voice broke through her quiet reverie. Alarielle’s eyes opened, and she looked up to see a woman standing nearby. The stranger had hair the color of moonlight and eyes so blue they glowed green in the dim light of night. Without thinking, Alarielle whispered, “Mama,” as if the word escaped her before she could stop it.

“Not quite. Grand-mama, maybe?” the woman smiled, her eyes crinkling with warmth. Though she looked to be in her 30s, there was an ageless quality about her. She gracefully sat beside Alarielle, her gaze soft as it settled on her.

“Grandma?” Alarielle asked, confusion in her voice.

“Yes, with quite a few ‘greats’ in front of it,” the woman chuckled softly, turning her attention to the starry lake. “My name is Illiana Galianthis, and you, my dear, are the last of my bloodline, it seems.”

Alarielle’s eyes widened. “My… my mother’s…”

“Name was Illiana, I know,” Illiana finished gently, nodding. “She was named after me.”

Alarielle continued to stare at her grandmother, speechless and overwhelmed by the flood of new information. Sensing her silence, Illiana spoke softly, “I’m guessing you don’t know much about your heritage.”

Alarielle shook her head slightly, her eyes still wide as they studied the woman before her.

“This place,” Illiana gestured around them, “was once right behind Castle Nyxvelyn. It’s where I first met your grandfather, Lucian Thornbreir. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen.” Illiana’s laugh was light and filled with fondness, her eyes twinkling with the memory.

A small smile tugged at Alarielle’s lips as she looked back at the shimmering lake. “Did you… ever meet my mother?” she asked cautiously, unsure of how to piece together the puzzle of her family’s past.

Illiana’s smile softened. “No, she was born long after my death. But my mother met her, I believe.”Alarielle’s confusion deepened. She furrowed her brow and turned her gaze back to Illiana. “Your mother? How could she…?” Illiana chuckled, reading the bewilderment in Alarielle’s expression.

“My mother was a demi-goddess. Technically, she never died. She simply left this world to be with her mother, the goddess.” Her words carried an ancient weight, the kind of knowledge that sounded more like myth than truth.

“So,” Alarielle whispered, her mind racing, “I come from…”

“Divine blood,” Illiana finished for her.Alarielle shook her head in disbelief, but she remained silent, letting her grandmother continue.

“You carry two powerful bloodlines,” Illiana said softly, her eyes deepening with the weight of the revelation. “One from the goddess of the night, Nythera, whose very essence flows through your veins. She is the protector of the stars, the weaver of shadows, and the one who guards the secrets of the dark.”

Alarielle’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to comprehend what her grandmother was saying. “And the other?” she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Illiana’s expression grew more solemn as she glanced at the shimmering lake once more, as if its reflection held the truth of what she was about to reveal. “The other comes from the Demon Emperor, Drakon Nightbane. His blood is fierce, ancient, and powerful beyond measure. He ruled with an iron fist, commanding legions.”

Alarielle’s heart pounded in her chest, her voice trembling as she repeated, “The Demon Emperor?”

Illiana nodded, her expression softening as she looked at her granddaughter. “Yes. My father,” she said quietly.

Alarielle stared in disbelief, her mind reeling from the weight of those words. The idea that the woman before her—her grandmother—was the daughter of such a powerful, feared figure felt too enormous to grasp.

Sensing Alarielle’s internal turmoil, Illiana gave her a reassuring smile. “We don’t have time for me to tell you the whole story from the very beginning, but I can tell you some of it.” She glanced up at the vast night sky, its stars twinkling like a thousand tiny beacons. “Lie down with me, and look at the realm of your blood as I tell you this.”

Illiana laid back on the cool grass, her eyes fixed on the stars, and Alarielle hesitated for a moment before following her grandmother’s lead. She lay beside her, gazing upward at the starry expanse that now seemed to hold more significance than ever before.

Illiana’s voice was calm and steady as she continued, her words echoing the weight of centuries gone by. “A long time ago, the Fae realm was unified under one great kingdom, Lumaria. It was ruled by King Galianthis and his wife, the goddess of night, Nythera. Lumaria was a place of light and magic, but beyond its borders, there was darkness—the reign of the Nightbane Empire, which controlled the demon realm.”

Alarielle listened, captivated by the history unfolding. Her grandmother’s voice held a certain melancholy as she spoke of the past.

“At that time, the demon realm, led by Emperor Zorak Nightbane, was a force of destruction. He waged war after war, desperate to control both the Fae realm and the human world. Zorak wanted nothing less than to crown himself the one true king of all realms. But my father, King Galianthis, twice defeated him in battle.”

Illiana’s eyes reflected the stars above as she recalled the ancient battles. “In his defeat, Zorak sought another way to gain power—a matrimonial alliance. He proposed a union between the two realms, asking for the hand of Galianthis and Nythera’s daughter, Deliah, to cement the peace. My grandparents refused, of course. They wouldn’t give their daughter to the demons. But my mother, Deliah, saw it as the only way to ensure lasting peace between their worlds.”

Illiana’s voice grew softer. “Deliah convinced her parents to at least meet with the demon prince. The following summer, she met Drakon, Zorak’s son, and everything changed. Drakon fell in love with my mother at first sight, and though Deliah had her doubts, she, too, was drawn to him. He was handsome, powerful, and unlike any demon she had known. Eventually, the agreement was signed, and peace reigned for years.”

Alarielle’s mind swirled as she tried to picture this tale of love, conflict, and political intrigue.

“I was born one year after their marriage,” Illiana continued, a faint smile touching her lips. “By then, Drakon had become the Emperor. I took after my mother, looking more like a Fae, with none of the demon features that marked my father’s people. In honor of that, he named me after his homeland, Illianthor, so that I would always carry a piece of him, even if I didn’t resemble him.”

Alarielle remained quiet, her heart racing as she waited for her grandmother to continue.

“But peace, as it often does, came at a price,” Illiana said, her voice darkening. “A group of demons loyal to my father betrayed him, murdering half of his court. They cursed him, and to this day, I don’t know what happened to him. I believe he didn’t die, but he vanished. My mother fled with me to the Fae realm, but even there, she couldn’t find peace. The grief of losing my father was too much for her, and she left the Fae realm to be with her own mother, Nythera.”

Alarielle’s chest tightened as she imagined the pain her grandmother must have gone through.

“I was raised by my grandfather, King Galianthis,” Illiana continued, “but without my mother and grandmother, the kingdom began to crumble. After my grandfather’s death, Lumaria was divided, and my homeland fell. It was during those dark times that I met Lucian, the king of Nyxvelyn, a Fae kingdom in the north. From our love came the bloodline that led to you, Alarielle.”

Illiana’s eyes locked onto Alarielle’s. “You are the last of this legacy, the final thread of both the Fae and demon realms. Your blood is powerful because it carries the strength of both realms.”

Alarielle’s body pulsed with a strange energy, her heart pounding as she looked down at her hands. They flickered, glowing softly one moment and disappearing the next, as if her very essence was unraveling.

Illiana stood up abruptly, her once serene expression now filled with urgency. Alarielle, startled, quickly followed her grandmother’s lead.

“Listen carefully, child,” Illiana said, her voice firm and urgent. “We are running out of time. They’re bringing you back.”

“Back?” Alarielle asked, confusion flooding her. “Back where?”

“Yes, back to the living world,” Illiana answered, her gaze sharp. “I had Promedius, freeze your heart for a brief moment to bring you here—to this plane between life and death. It was the only way to reach you.” Her voice was laced with both desperation and hope. “A war is coming, Alarielle. The realms are teetering on the edge of chaos, and you must find a way to control and harness both sides of your power—Fae and demon.”

Alarielle’s heart pounded harder as she absorbed her grandmother’s words. The world around them began to blur, the stars in the sky dimming, the once clear lake rippling into obscurity.

“Don’t let the realms fall into even greater darkness than they already have,” Illiana’s voice echoed as the scene started to fade.

“Wait!” Alarielle cried, panic rising in her chest, but it was too late. The world of starlight and magic dissolved into nothingness, and she felt herself being pulled back to the world she had left behind