DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 29: A King's Procession

>>>>> The gates of the demon realm loomed open, dark and towering, as Darla stepped inside with Zion, Kazimir, Amaia, and Lirien by her side. The skies above the realm were heavy with a crimson haze, casting long shadows over the blackened hills and jagged mountains. This was not a realm of warmth or peace—but today, it was filled with solemn silence.

The demon soldiers stood in perfect lines along the winding road, their heads bowed in respect as Darla made her way toward the citadel. King Aamon's essence may have dissolved, but the people demanded a proper recognition—a final procession for their fallen king.

Darla's heart weighed heavy as she walked, flanked by her most trusted allies. A crown of obsidian and gold sat on her head, a symbol of her new station as the ruler of the demon realm. Yet, it felt foreign, heavy, and undeserved.

"He deserved better," Darla whispered to Zion, her voice breaking slightly. "I wish I had more time with him."

Zion placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You did what you could, Darla. He knew that."

Kazimir kept his arms crossed, trying to mask his emotions with his usual sarcasm, though even he struggled to maintain his composure. "At least he went out in style, right?"

Darla shot him a sharp glance, but the hint of humor helped ease some of the tension gnawing at her. It was how Kazimir coped—with jokes.

As they reached the dark throne at the heart of the citadel, the demons gathered in silence. The grand hall was vast and ancient, the very stones soaked with the essence of power and history. In the center stood a black marble altar, symbolizing Aamon's final resting place.

Darla approached the altar, her gaze lingering on the crown her father once wore. It was now hers to bear—but at what cost? She knelt and whispered words of farewell, her hands trembling as she laid a wreath of nightshade and moon lilies on the altar.

With that simple gesture, the ancient rites were complete. The demons bowed low, acknowledging both the loss of their king and the arrival of their new leader.

From the shadows of the grand hall, Zelphas, the ancient demon advisor, stepped forward. His movements were graceful despite his towering, muscular frame. His scarred face, twisted horns, and sharp claws would have terrified most, but his presence was comforting to Darla.

He bowed low before her, his voice deep and solemn. "I stand before you, Darla, daughter of Aamon, as I once stood beside your father." His glowing red eyes locked onto hers. "My loyalty remains with King Aamon's lineage—and that means I now serve you."

Darla met his gaze, searching for any hint of doubt or resentment, but Zelphas's expression was unwavering. She gave a small, respectful nod. "I'll need your guidance, Zelphas."

Zelphas straightened, folding his arms. "Of course, my queen. The burden you carry is heavy, but it is one that your father believed you could bear. His faith in you was not misplaced."

Zion, standing at Darla's side, gave Zelphas a skeptical glance. "And I assume that 'guidance' comes with a side of demon wisdom?"

Zelphas raised an eyebrow, his expression halfway between irritation and amusement. "You could learn a thing or two, short-tailed lion."

Kazimir chuckled under his breath, nudging Zion. "Don't poke the ancient demon, Zion. He's older than dirt."

Zelphas ignored the banter, focusing entirely on Darla. "Your father was not without his flaws," he began, "but his greatest strength was understanding that power means nothing without purpose. Remember this: A leader is not the one with the most strength, but the one who gives their strength to others."

Darla let those words sink in. They carried the weight of experience, hard-earned through centuries of service.

As the ceremony ended, Kazimir leaned in close to Darla and whispered, "Felonir won't stay quiet for long. You know that, right?"

Darla nodded, her expression grim. Felonir, her brother, now led the rebel forces. Though the battle had paused, it was only a matter of time before he would rise again—with new strength and a deeper hunger for power.

"I know," Darla whispered back. "He'll come back. And when he does, we'll be ready."

Kazimir grinned, though there was no humor in it. "Good. I was starting to miss kicking his butt."

Zion gave him a disapproving look but didn't comment. They all knew the peace was fleeting. For now, all they could do was prepare—and pay respect to Aamon's memory.

After the procession, Darla gathered her companions and returned to the fairy realm. The shimmering portal opened before them, and in an instant, they were surrounded by the ethereal beauty of Queen Dianthe's palace. Twilight flowers bloomed across silver trees, and soft, luminous light floated in the air like wisps of dreams.

Lirien and Amaia guided Darla through the elegant halls, their wings glimmering in the soft glow. Despite everything, the palace brought her a strange sense of peace.

They soon reached the grand hall, where Queen Dianthe awaited her daughter. Dianthe's face softened as she saw Darla, and without hesitation, the fairy queen stepped forward and pulled her daughter into a warm embrace.

"I've missed you, my child," Dianthe whispered, her voice gentle. "I feared I might never see you again."

Darla melted into the embrace for a moment before pulling back, her heart still heavy but determined. "I've come to tell you of my plans, Mother. The demon realm looks to me for leadership now."

Dianthe's expression turned thoughtful, her ethereal features unreadable. "It's a heavy burden to bear."

"It is," Darla admitted. "But I can't do it alone. I need your help."

Darla took a deep breath and faced her mother fully. "I want to bring balance, not just between demons and fairies, but to the human world as well."

Queen Dianthe studied her daughter carefully, her gaze soft but probing. "You seek to unite three worlds that have been at odds for centuries. It's an impossible task."

"It may be impossible," Darla said, "but it's the right thing to do. My father gave his life to save all these worlds. I can't let his sacrifice be in vain."

Dianthe's eyes shimmered with pride, and for a moment, Darla saw the deep love and admiration hidden behind the fairy queen's usual poise.

"You have grown into someone remarkable, my daughter," Dianthe said softly. "I will do what I can to help you."

Darla's heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Mother."

As they walked back through the halls, Darla felt the full weight of her responsibilities settling on her shoulders. She was now the bridge between three worlds—the demon realm, the fairy realm and the human realm. It was a burden no one should have to carry alone, but she knew she couldn't falter.

At her side, Zion walked quietly, his presence a steadying force.

"You're not alone, Darla," he said softly, as if reading her thoughts. "We'll figure this out together."

Kazimir, walking just behind them, grinned cheekily. "Yeah, besides—if you mess it all up, we'll be right there to make fun of you."

Darla shot him a look, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite everything. "Thanks, Kazimir. Your faith in me is truly inspiring."

As they stepped back into the heavenly gardens of the palace, Darla looked toward the horizon, where the sun began to set, casting the sky in hues of gold and lavender.

She knew that the path ahead would be difficult, but she also knew that she wasn't walking it alone. With the support of her friends, her mother, and the memory of her father guiding her, Darla was ready to face whatever came next.

For now, the battle was over. But a new journey had just begun.

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