The ancient prophecy predicted the demon queen would die, but now the prophecy lies broken.
The prophecy has been false and its heroes lay dead around her, she smirked tightly but there was no warmth in the smile. Her palace and capital lay in ruins and the armies sent to destroy her were still fighting her own guard in the streets.
Alaria wanted to savour the moment but there was no time for that. The demon knelt and pulled the sword designed to destroy her from the young boy who had wielded it, the prophesied warrior meant to save the world. She chuckled as she decided what to do and opened a portal to Hell, she had been a minor lord there before ascending to the mortal world and she still had her followers. One, her greatest lieutenant, stepped forth and bowed low before her.
“Eratis,” she commanded, “take this boy’s soul and ensnare it.”
“This?” the ancient demon asked, reluctance clear in its tone, “it is such a feeble thing.”
“Yes, this one whose name was Aran. Can you believe they hoped it would kill me? Now take it and follow.”
“Of course, my mistress,” the boy had not been dead long and the magic of Eratis brought him back to life with some effort but he was not the same of course, for now he had the soul of one of the Children.
She refreshed herself, removing the blood which had been spilt during the battle from her clothes and hair. For the ‘noble’ ones, her enemies had fought quite viciously and Alaria found herself quite impressed with their prowess in battle, perhaps once the battle was over she would bring each of them back from death to serve her as well. The doors to her throne room lay open and she walked out into her city, taking in the screams and the violence, revelling in it. She did not care for the deaths of her people but it was time to end the petty rebellion against her and make clear once and for all that this was her world to toy with as she saw fit.
Turning to Aran, she handed him the sword and walked through palace grounds until she reached the great plaza beyond. Her guards were overwhelmed and it did not take long for her enemies to spot her, some fired arrows at her which she deflected with the power of her mind alone and after a moment, when she had the attention of all those fighting, she beckoned the boy.
“Kill her!” a soldier screamed and she smiled again. He would be punished later.
“Aran, show them the futility of their resistance,” she amplified her voice so that all could hear, “show them that you have recognised my authority over these lands and all lands beyond from now until the end of time.”
Eratis knelt before her and offered up his sword which she took, a groan ran through the crowd as she lifted it over her head, and smashed it into a million pieces with a jolt of power. “The only weapon which could kill me lies broken,” she declared in the utter silence which followed, “throw down your arms and I may permit some of you to live.”
A few did as she bid, others turned to flee, and there were those brave or foolish foes who fought on but were soon captured or vanquished. The great army which had been assembled to destroy her was undone. Throughout the city the fighting continued until well into the night but the pockets of resistance were growing smaller and as she lounged on her throne, she heard the news that she had been waiting for at last.
“Two of the kings have been captured, your majesty,” her military leader, the demon Partira, announced, he had taken the body of old man and who had seen many battles and though it pained her to see him in such a state, he did have the look of a general. “Another is dead but King Falar escaped when it became clear the was turning against him.”
“Four kings and a host of heroes arranged against me and yet after today, I shall rule four realms and the heroes are now subject to my whims. King Falar is of no concern, his army is all but destroyed and his kingdom shall meet the same fate as the rest when I see fit but bring me Aran now.
“It is time for the fun to begin.”