DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 28: A Father's Sacrifice

>>>>> The smoke from the crumbled streets of Celestia City swirled in the distance as Darla stood beside her father, King Aamon, the Demon King. Fires still raged, the aftermath of battles between rebel demons and human forces. Yet, in this moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

Darla glanced at her father, but something about him looked... off. His form flickered, shimmering like a mirage. She reached out, fingers brushing against his arm, only for them to pass through as if touching smoke.

"Father?" Her voice cracked, a tremor of panic running through her.

Aamon turned his head, the faintest smile ghosting across his lips, though there was sadness behind it. "The time has come, Darla."

She stared in disbelief as his body continued to fade, bits of him crumbling into dust, carried away on the wind. Panic clutched at her heart. She knew battles. She knew war. But this—the quiet unraveling of someone she had only just begun to understand—was something she wasn't prepared for.

"What's happening?" Darla whispered.

The Ancient Curse

Aamon slowly sat down on the edge of a cracked stone wall, facing the horizon where the first light of dawn began creeping over the skyline. He rested his hands on his knees, watching as his fingers disintegrated, the dust catching the faint morning breeze.

"We, the rulers of the demon realm, are bound by an ancient law," Aamon began, his voice low but steady. "We can never set foot in the human world—not entirely. It keeps the balance between realms intact." He exhaled softly, a sound almost like relief. "The moment I came here... I knew it would be my end."

Darla dropped to her knees beside him, desperation filling her chest. "No... No, you can't leave. There has to be another way."

Aamon shook his head, his features softening as he looked at her. "There isn't."

His gaze remained calm, though his body continued to flicker and crumble. He was becoming a memory, piece by piece.

"I came because you needed me," Aamon continued, his voice filled with a gentleness Darla never thought possible. "I came to protect you. And I don't regret it—not for a moment."

Darla's throat tightened, the words lodged there refusing to come out. She wanted to scream at him, beg him to stay, but deep down, she knew there was no stopping this. The rules of their existence were absolute.

"Darla," Aamon said, drawing her gaze back to his. "There's one last thing I must tell you before I go."

She nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

"I am sorry." His voice was heavy with regret. "For everything—for not being there, for the burdens I left you with. But now, I must leave you with the greatest burden of all."

Darla frowned, confusion mixing with her grief. "What do you mean?"

"The throne," Aamon said simply. "The demon realm needs a ruler, and that ruler must be you."

Her heart sank. "No. I can't. I don't even know how."

Aamon smiled faintly, his expression both proud and sorrowful. "You have more strength than you realize. You carry both the light of the fairies and the fire of the demons. That makes you unique—and it makes you exactly what the realms need."

His form flickered again, more of him dissipating into the air like ash. "Lead them, Darla. Bring peace, not just to the demons, but to all the worlds. That is your destiny."

"Father..." Darla's voice wavered, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

The Last Goodbye

Aamon's form was almost gone now, barely a shadow against the growing light. He reached out a hand toward Darla, and for a moment, she thought she could feel the warmth of it.

"I am proud of you, my daughter." His voice was no more than a whisper. "Now... live. And lead."

With those final words, Aamon dissolved completely, scattering into the morning wind, leaving nothing behind but silence.

Darla's breath hitched, and a sob escaped her lips. The weight of everything crashed down on her all at once—the loss of her father, the burden of the throne, the war still raging around her. She collapsed to her knees, her hands clenched into fists against the broken ground.

And then, it hit her—a surge of emotion so overwhelming that it broke something inside her.

"No!" she screamed, her voice reverberating across the city like a shockwave. A pulse of energy burst from her body, pure and raw, filled with rage, sorrow, and grief.

The power radiating from Darla was unlike anything the world had ever felt. It spread through the human realm, the demon realm, and the fairy realm—reaching everyone, everywhere.

At the border between the realms, Zion, Kazimir, Amaia, and Lirien froze, feeling the wave of Darla's energy wash over them. It was immense—an overwhelming force of both darkness and light, chaos and peace.

Kazimir looked at Zion, wide-eyed. "What... What is that?"

Zion's heart sank. "It's Darla."

Even Felonir, locked in combat, felt the shift. He staggered, clutching his chest as the loss of his mother, Belphonia, and the dissolution of his father, Aamon, hit him all at once. The power flowing from Darla wasn't just immense—it was personal. It carried the weight of grief, of sacrifice, of something broken and reborn.

Felonir's army faltered. The rebel demons, sensing the change, hesitated. Felonir snarled, but he knew—this fight was lost. Without a word, he turned and vanished into the shadows, retreating back to the rebel den. His forces followed, slipping away like smoke in the wind.

In the heart of the city, Darla knelt alone, the energy slowly fading from her body. Her tears dripped onto the cracked pavement, and she hugged herself tightly, feeling the emptiness left behind by her father's sacrifice. The silence that followed was deafening.

Zion, Kazimir, Amaia, and Lirien arrived moments later, their footsteps echoing in the quiet streets. Zion knelt beside Darla, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Darla," he whispered, his voice soft. "It's over. We're here."

Darla looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "He's gone, Zion... My father's gone."

Zion's expression softened, and without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Darla buried her face against his chest, the weight of her grief too much to bear alone.

"I'm so sorry," Zion whispered, holding her close.

Kazimir, Amaia, and Lirien stood nearby, their expressions solemn as they felt the enormity of what had happened. The battle was over—for now—but the cost had been higher than any of them had imagined.

Darla pulled away from Zion, wiping her tears. Her eyes still shimmered with sadness, but beneath it was a newfound determination. She wasn't just a daughter mourning her father anymore—she was the future ruler of the demon realm, and perhaps the key to uniting all the worlds.

"What now?" Kazimir asked cautiously.

Darla looked toward the horizon, where the last remnants of her father had drifted away. She took a deep breath, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders.

"Now... I lead," she said quietly. "For him. For all of us."

Zion nodded beside her, a flicker of pride in his gaze. They had lost much—but they had gained something far more important. Darla wasn't alone. Not anymore.

And this time, she would make sure none of the worlds—human, demon, or fairy—ever suffered again.

>>>>>