Chapter 55 #2
Columns of black stone spiralled up into the vaulted ceilings inlaid with glowing red-gold veins of magma.
Between each column, massive crimson and silver banners—one bearing my sigil, the other a blooming ash rose wreathed in white fire, with a half sun and its beaming rays sitting just above it.
It was Daisy’s newly chosen sigil—one that fit her and Dasmyrin together.
The walls flickered with torches that burned with magically imbued fire, alternating between white flame and red.
It casts the whole chamber in a surreal glow, where shadow met brilliance and clashed together with a harmony only Hell could manage.
At the far end of the room, raised high on a polished marble and obsidian dais, sat two thrones carved from the very bones of the realm itself.
My breath caught when I saw them. My father’s throne had disintegrated the second the news arose about his death.
These were new. Reborn and forged, just for us.
Mine was carved from jagged obsidian, the black glass twisted into sharp, regal angles that reflected firelight. My black hellfire glowed faintly within the carved cracks along the arms and back, alive with my magic, pulsing faintly in time with my heart.
Hers… hers was something else entirely. Where mine was brutal, hers was beautiful.
Sculpted from pale onyx streaked with silver, Daisy’s throne glimmered with a sheen like pearl kissed by starlight—iridescent under the flames bouncing around the room.
Carvings of ash roses and suns swept along its back.
Wisps of white fire licked along the throne’s spires, cool and ethereal, illuminating the dais in divine brilliance.
Her flame. Together, they looked like the promise of a better world.
Of a prophecy fulfilled. Light and shadow, fury and grace.
And for the first time, I began to see this was not just a coronation. It was a resurrection.
Rows upon rows of seats lined the hall below the dais, stretching far back.
Hundreds had already gathered, eager to see the ceremony even though it was hours away.
Nobles, commoners, soldiers, merchants, scholars.
They whisper, craning their necks, gasping, and bowing as I pass.
I could feel the weight of every single stare; some curious, some afraid.
But most seemed to be in awe. And they should be.
Because tonight, their kingdom would not just rise. It would burn back to life.
I return to the Great Hall, finding it one of the quieter places to be right now. I close my eyes and try to will the weight of everything to not crush me, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.
“You always were dramatic.”
I turn with a smirk as Aran strolls into the hall, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips, and two very familiar figures trailing behind him.
Ezra’s dressed in fitted black slacks and a dark pink button-up shirt with gold thread running along the seams, his usual sass tempered by disbelief.
His mouth hangs open, his green eyes wide as he takes in the grand space.
Talia wears a flowing gown of midnight blue that shimmers when she moves, her dark hair pinned up in soft coils, her tanned face illuminated by the torches.
Their expressions look like they’d just walked into a fairytale.
“She’s in her chambers,” I say, almost nervously. “She doesn’t know they’re here.”
“Good,” Aran replies, patting Ezra’s shoulder as if they’d been friends for years. “Let’s give her the surprise of her afterlife.”
I watch them take it all in, their mortal awe a reminder of how far Daisy had come. How far we had all come.
I gesture to the large table in the centre of the room. “Go sit at the table over there, it’s where we’ll be sitting.”
Ezra leans in close and gives me a sly wink. “You clean up well, demon boy.”
I snort. “Don’t push it, sparkles.”
He laughs as they wander off towards the table, arms linked together as they continue to look around the room, gasping at the most ridiculous things.
“You made it,” I say to Aran, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Of course I did.” His smile falters just a little. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for anything.”
A beat passed between us. We both knew what tonight meant. Not just for Daisy, not just for me, but for the future of Hell. After tonight, there would be no going back.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, squeezing his shoulder once.
He nods once. “Always.”
At exactly seven p.m., the doors to the grand hall open.
A chorus of horns blow from the balconies surrounding the room, and the realm leaders begin making their entrance.
Vor’Khar of Stormravan thunders in first, his cloak made of lightning.
Queen Virena of Fjellheim Heights follows, her mismatched storm grey and opal eyes lined with kohl, her dark gown studded with raindrop-shaped diamonds.
Kaelith, king of Aurora’s Veil wanders in behind her, his black suit looking like a void beneath his cloak that billows behind him, shimmering with starlight and the colours of the northern lights.
Beside him, Maelkar, king of Noxthrallia, strides in wearing a deep purple suit.
His midnight skin shimmers, the glowing veins of violet beneath his skin pulsing.
And lastly, Sariya, Goddess of Solara, enters the room, hand entwined with Elyistria, Goddess of Luminaria.
They both looked absolutely ethereal. Sariya wears a golden gown, her large afro covered in blooming ash roses, her deep bronze skin shimmering under the light.
Elyistria has on a pearlescent white gown, her platinum hair twisted into two braids, also adorned with ash roses.
I watch as they all take their seats, offering them all a nod of thanks for being here for the pre-ceremony feast. Just as I’m about to turn, a plume of flame appears in the doorway, announcing the arrival of none other than the pain in my ass, Lucifer himself, dressed in black robes that shimmer like ink.
And at his side, Vailith, the ruler of the Realm of Children, wearing a pale pink gown that compliments her pale silver-blue hair.
“Thought you might skip it,” I mutter as Lucifer approaches.
“Miss the coronation of the only demon in history who ever gave me a headache? Never.” He grins.
I roll my eyes. “Take a seat.”
He joins Vailith at one of the tables just as the music begins. It’s ancient and vibrant, played on harp strings and bone drums. I take my seat at the table with Aran, Ezra, Talia, Sariya, and Elyistria, awaiting the arrival of my soon-to-be queen.
The doors push open once more, and Daisy appears through them in a black and silver gown that clings to every curve, her newly streaked hair tumbling in soft waves.
The room silences as she enters, every eye turning to her, every breath caught.
Her eyes find mine, then widen as she takes in who’s sitting beside me, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Talia? Ez?” She whispers, hurrying towards us.
“Surprise, bitch,” Ezra beams with tears in his eyes, already pushing back his chair to get to her.
Talia pushes her way to her first, flinging her arms around Daisy in a crushing hug.
They both sob, laughing and crying in the middle of the hall as Ezra wraps his arms around them both.
They saw each other just hours ago, yet act like it’s been a millennia.
The hall erupts into applause. Glasses are raised, and wine is poured as they take their seats together.
Daisy looks at me, her eyes shimmering and her freckle-smattered cheeks flushing as she mouths, “Thank you.”
The feast roared on for hours. Toasts were made.
Aran delivered an obnoxiously sentimental speech that made both Talia and Daisy tear up.
Vor’Khar smashed a wine goblet onto his own head and howled, “TO CHAOS.” Which was probably the most I’ve ever heard the gigantic bastard speak.
Sariya clinked her fork against her glass and toasted, “To the flame reborn.” Ezra tried to flirt with Maelkar and ended up screaming after he’d shown him his worst nightmares through his mind magic.
Lucifer kissed Elyistria’s hand and got punched in the gut by Sariya for even trying.
And I? I just watched her. Her laughter lit my nerve endings on fire; her presence made me feel whole.
As the final course is cleared, and the wine begins to run dry, I rise from my seat and clear my throat.
“My friends,” I speak, my voice cutting through the celebration. “Tonight, when the moon hangs high, you will see something this realm has not witnessed in thousands of years. The crowning of a King. And the rise of a Queen.”
The room quietens.
“She is more than legend, she is more than fire, flame, blood, or the crown. She is mine, and I am hers. Tonight, we rise together. Tonight... Hell remembers who it belongs to.”
Applause erupts, and cheers ring out. My eyes find hers, and I give her a single nod, raising my glass to her. She raises hers back in understanding.
It was time.