Shadow Bands

XVIII. Waning

Nasherux's castle glowed red, not only because of the miasma but also because its castle walls consisted of red stones. The large castle stood at the edge of the capital, connecting seamlessly into a volcano. Its structures seem slim from afar, but as Draven approached, the overhead interior roof that covered the upper limits of the grand hall couldn't be seen—as if the abyss made home here.

A lavish red carpet lay pointed at the steps, spanning down through a seemingly infinite hallway lined with bright sconces. The floor is black granite with white streaks spreading across it, like lightning in the night. Simple dark architectural pillars erected into the abyss, their width as large as two grown horses.

The heat from the volcano started to make Draven sweat, but he knew it was more than that that was causing the beads of water to drip from his head. His throat gulped the gathering saliva in his throat. He watched as Civet casually strolled into the castle as if he lived here. Draven knew better than to keep him waiting.

Cool air awaited him inside, a surprising change. When he wasn't weary, Draven admired the banners that hung between each pillar—all of them long and purple with golden embroidery.

Draven felt as if he was walking slowly because of how long it took for each pillar to pass him. But eventually, he made it to a flight of steps where Civet had already started climbing. The red carpet forking as there was a hallway going underneath, Draven couldn't fathom what would be down that hallway. The staircase spiraled upwards, revealing a balcony that held the entrance to several hallways.

Civet waved him over to follow him down the farthest one. As they walked, Draven realized the ceilings were still tall but less daunting. All of the stone's complexion turned black. Arches ribbed the hallway until they reached an opening to a red room, a sharp contrast. The room was rectangular and wide, bright with Everfire torches and with the help of the sunroof. Guards in pointy obsidian armor with tower shields and spears lined the wall with a large door. Its front detailed a story of how a demon overcame the challenges of the surface, making home to the kingdom this world knows now.

All the guards pointed their spears, not at Civet, but at Draven.

"He's fine!" Said Civet, placing his hand on the door. "He'll be out here to keep you company."

The door opened with a push of his hand. Draven couldn't help but glimpse into the room, noticing long, flowing black hair and a red dress before the doors closed. Interest peaked inside him. Draven looked at the guards who still had their spears pointing at him. He forced a little chuckle as he backed away into the hallway. Once he thought it was dark enough, he opened a rift. Stepping through, he found himself back in his pocket of space.

The scenes showed him where he was in the present. He imagined what was past the door, and it all changed. He viewed the room in all its entirety—the red walls, black plants, tall windows, a balcony, and more. But more importantly, he saw Civet and a beautiful lady. Her skin was paler than porcelain. Her nails like claws on her hand. Intricate jewelry dangled from a fancy bun on the back of her head, braids like a highway to the bundled point. The jaw of a lizard rested on her shoulders—its maw snug with her own and hid half of her face. The dress she wore was silky and red; dark metals covered her fleshy parts. Her eyes a crimson red and a dangerous glow.

Draven knew he had overstepped once her piercing gaze snapped to him. Her stare burned the backs of his eyes, but he couldn't look away. No matter what scene he gazed into, she was staring at him. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear their conversation, but she waved Civet off. Draven couldn't tell who she was, but her Source was strong enough to affect him within the dimension. What kind of source could allow that? Could she be the strongest magic user? Either way, Draven did not want to find out.