DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 33: Shadows without Faces

>>>>> The night was unusually quiet in Celestia City, as if the air itself was holding its breath. For the first time in weeks, Darla sat alone in her apartment, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Her responsibilities had grown heavier with each passing day, balancing her duties in the police force, managing the fragile peace between the realms, and guarding against Felonir's rebels. But now, a new sense of unease weighed on her chest, as if something terrible was about to awaken.

She sipped from her tea, hoping to shake off the feeling, when a sudden shift in the air sent a chill down her spine.

A shadow danced along the walls, and a familiar voice echoed from the darkness.

"Sister."

Darla's grip tightened on her dagger, but she didn't draw it. Felonir emerged from the shadows, his golden eyes glowing softly. There was no menace in his expression this time—just a strange mixture of exhaustion and unease.

"Felonir." Darla's voice was steady, though her heart raced. "Why are you here?"

Her brother leaned against the window frame, gazing out at the city below. "To warn you."

Darla folded her arms, watching him closely. "Warn me about what?"

Felonir exhaled slowly, as if the words themselves were a weight he had carried too long. "There's another faction forming—a rogue group that didn't agree with our rebellion, nor with the idea of you or me taking the throne. They don't believe either of us is fit to lead."

Darla frowned. "Who's leading them?"

Felonir's jaw tightened. "That's the problem. I don't know."

The admission startled her. Felonir always had his hand in the pulse of the rebellion, knowing every player in the game. If he was in the dark about this new threat, it meant they were dealing with something far more dangerous than she initially feared.

"They call themselves the Void," Felonir continued. "They move through the shadows, gathering demons, outcasts, and creatures who've grown tired of our kind's leadership—whether it's me or you."

Darla's heart sank. "So, they want to overthrow us both."

Felonir nodded grimly. "They believe our father's lineage was flawed. They see King Aamon's death as a sign that new blood must rise to lead the demon realm—and they won't stop until they've destroyed anyone standing in their way."

A cold silence hung between them. Darla felt the enormity of the threat settle over her shoulders. The peace she had worked so hard to establish was already fragile, and now it was being threatened from both within and without.

She stepped closer to her brother, her gaze steady. "And you? Will you fight me... or fight with me against this new threat?"

Felonir's eyes softened for the briefest moment, but his voice remained measured. "When the time comes, you'll have to make a choice. And so will I."

Darla's heart ached at the unspoken truth between them: they were both bound by fate and blood, yet divided by loyalty and belief.

After Felonir disappeared back into the shadows, Darla sat on the balcony, watching the stars. They glittered coldly, indifferent to the troubles of mortals, demons, and fairies alike. But Darla knew she couldn't afford to be indifferent.

She had to act.

The next morning, Darla called a meeting with her closest allies. In the precinct's small conference room, Kazimir, Zion, Amaia, and Lirien gathered around the table, their expressions serious as Darla explained the situation.