The Great War

XVI

I look around the dark smoky-like castle in front of me. My hand still tightly clasping the devil beside me as he walks us up the looming staircase. "What is this place?"

He breathes a chuckle that seems to echo, "Ophelia created it, welcome to the Shadow Realm." He places a large, clawed hand onto the intimidatingly large double door and pushes.

With ease and with silence it pushed open. The interior was just as dark as the exterior. Dark red marble floors that looked like rivers of blood. Tall looming walls of black. Elegant furniture and a grand staircase just in front of us.

"Welcome to Phosphorus Manor." He says with a smirk as he releases my hand.

I look around with wide eyes, crescent archways leading into a living room and the opposite one a kitchen. I look up as heels click against the marble. My eyes widen even more as my breath is stolen from my chest.

"Is this the girl?" A tall slim woman asks, her raven black hair curled and tied up in a braid. Her skin is a soft yet rough black hue, purple swirling almost at the edges of her sharp jaw and cheek bones. Two sharp rigid glass like horns sit on her head, curling at the sharp tip. Runes carved into her forehead and down her bare arms and the showing of the beginning of her cleavage. She had on a dark purple dress that split at about her hip.

"Seems like it." He mutters as he approaches the tall woman, almost about the same height as the devil. He leans down and kisses the knuckles of her outstretched hand. It felt like I was watching royalty.

"Dear girl, you look quite a bit like her." I slowly nod and peer up at the devil as she approaches me.

She leans down to be level with my face, her dark blue eyes running over my face. "Hmm..." She cracks a smile and hooks arms with me, "Shall we, sweetheart?"

I furrow my brows but nod, nonetheless. She hums and starts walking in long strides towards one archway, leading to the living room. "Sit, sit."

She ushers me and she sits down next to me, her long legs curving to the side of her, the dress falling between her thighs as she leans back comfortably. "She should be down soon, don't worry."

I nod and suck in a sharp breath as clicking sound out from the stairs again, this time it sounded rougher footed. Instead of sharp like heels. A head of white tufts pops out from the stairs and walks over, a warm aura following.

More welcoming than the two devils. A bright yet soft smile adorned the older woman's features, yet she still looked as youthful as a 20-year-old. "Oh, gods you've grown so beautifully." She gushes almost immediately.

I don't know why but I expected an angry brooding woman wracked with loss and anger. I slowly stand up from the couch and nervously clasp my hands in front of me.

"Ophelia?" I questioningly wheeze out; she nods and rushes forward catching me in a motherly feeling hug.

"The kiss of an angel," she whispered before pulling back, "Azrael blessed you?"

I furrow my brows looking up at her confused, "What?"

She smiles at me and cups my face. Suddenly her eyes fade into a pitch black, no white to be seen. Her skin gains a dark gray hue to it as she mumbles something. Once she releases me her eyes melt back to its original state and her skin loses the gray hue.

Suddenly out of thin air she holds up a handheld iron mirror out to me. With a strained noise escaping my throat I hesitantly grab it and look into it, a glowing sigil just between my brows now clear as day.

"That is the kiss of an angel. Azrael had to have blessed you in a form of protection. Did you not know?" I slowly shake my head as she takes the mirror from me.

"Angels do that when they are ruled as a Guardian Angel. Azrael, he's a messenger." She explains to me with a soft voice, taking my hands in hers. She sits me down on the sofa again, taking a seat on top of the glass table in front of the small velvet sofa.

"Now, we have plans to discuss."

I look past her to Beelzebub behind her as he looms over her sitting form, "What plans?" Looking between all three creatures as I ask the question.

"Plans for my father. How he will be dealt with."

I cross my arms as I remember what I was told. "I was told I was the chosen one, the fuck does that even mean?" Ophelia breathes a sigh out of her nose and grabs my hands in hers squeezing softly.

"You've been sworn in by the sacred gods of Ethereal Realms. I am not powerful enough to save the realms from my father's destruction alone. So, the gods created you. Conjured your soul from the fragments of my remaining celestial soul. We are one, souls split in two. You are me, and I am you. You, my dear girl, you're a Demi God. You are chosen to rule this war, you have become a serpent warrior of gods and humans alike. You will save us. And I will be right at your side."

Her voice had a melodic touch to it that was near hypnotizing, her eyes bowing as I look down, keeping her eyes on mine as she smiles softly.

"Though, my dear girl, it is not an obligation. Nor will you be forced to play out this born role. You can say no, this is your choice. If you do not want to do this, if you want to live a normal mortal life, I will grant you that. Choose what your gut tells you to. Follow your mind's eye."

She removes one hand and cups my left cheek with a soft motherly smile. "Do not let the weight of this force your answer. For whatever you may choose, will be respected." She explains to me.

I lift my head and force out a strained breath. "I'll do it,"

Her eyes brighten as her smile widens showing her teeth. "That is a wonderful choice, sweet girl. I promise you; I will make sure no harm comes to your people as long as I shall reign." She swears to me, her eyes crinkling with her smile.

"Thank you." I breathe out, my chest squeezing as I realize what I've just signed onto.