The air inside The Crying Pillars felt significantly colder as Thorn Theodore stepped through the massive iron-reinforced doors. The scent of the battlefield—metallic, salty, and raw—clung to his furs, trailing behind him like a physical shroud. His amber eyes, still humming with the residual adrenaline of the massacre at the East Border, scanned the foyer with a sharp, impatient flick.
"Vane!" he roared, his voice echoing off the weeping stone walls, causing the moisture on the pillars to tremble.
Mistress Vane emerged from the shadows of the servant's hall, her eyes darting nervously. Behind her, the other three maids—the ones who had participated in the "accident"—shuffled into the light, their heads bowed low. They had spent the last few hours convincing themselves that the human girl was already at the bottom of the river, her lungs filled with leaden water, a problem permanently solved.
Thorn didn't bother with a greeting. He unclasped his blood-stained cloak and tossed it onto a side table. "Where is she? Where is the human?"
Vane swallowed hard, her throat clicking in the silence. "My Lord... we do not know. The last we saw of the girl, she was heading toward the back of the estate. We had sent her to the Drowning River of the Void to fetch a bucket of fresh water for the evening rituals."
Thorn went perfectly still. The silence that followed was more terrifying than his shout. He turned slowly, his boots crunching on the stone floor until he was inches away from Vane's face. The heat radiating from his demonic core made the damp air hiss.
"The river?" Thorn's voice was dangerously low, a soft growl that made the hair on the back of the maids' necks stand up. "You sent a sickly, human girl who can barely walk five paces without coughing to the Drowning River? On the Day of the Eclipse, when the water is at its most volatile and the demons are hunting?"
Vane tried to maintain her composure, her jagged horns twitching. "I... I felt it was necessary, my Lord. We have water in the taps of the estate, of course, but I needed her to know the route. Just in case one day there is a failure in the pipes. A servant must know how to provide for her masters in any circumstance. We were simply... training her."
Thorn's hand moved faster than the eye could follow. He gripped Vane by the throat, lifting her several inches off the floor. The other maids let out muffled gasps of terror.
"Training her?" Thorn hissed, his eyes glowing a fierce, predatory red. "You sent her to a place where even low-ranking demons struggle to survive the current. Do you think I am a fool, Vane? Do you think I don't know the smell of envy when it rots inside my own house?"
He leaned in closer, his teeth bared. "I brought that human here. She is my property. And the Sovereign himself just spoke to me about her. If she is dead, if that river has taken her because of your 'training,' I will ensure your deaths are so slow and so agonizing that you will beg for the Void to swallow you whole."
He dropped her abruptly. Vane hit the floor, gasping and clutching her neck, her eyes wide with shock.
"Bring her back," Thorn commanded, his voice booming through the hall like thunder. "Scour the banks. Search the ravine. If she is not standing in this foyer by the time the moon reaches the center of the eclipse, do not bother coming back. I will hunt you down myself, and I will feed your hearts to the hounds before the sun rises."
The maids didn't wait for a second warning. They scrambled for the exit, their long skirts fluttering as they bolted toward the back of the estate. They were whispering frantically as they ran, their voices high-pitched with panic.
"What is wrong with him today?" one of the younger maids, Meloy, hissed as they hit the cold air of the ravine. "He's never cared if a human lived or died before! He's had dozens of them—he's broken them himself! Why is this one different?"
"Shut up and look for her!" Vane snapped, her voice raspy from being choked. "If she's at the bottom of that river, we're all dead women."
Inside the estate, Thorn was already moving toward the subterranean stables where the high-ranking demon beasts were kept. His mood was a volatile mix of irritation and a strange, gnawing curiosity. Why was he so bothered? He told himself it was about the Sovereign's warning—if the girl was loitering where she shouldn't be, it made him look incompetent. But deep down, he remembered the way her small, cold hand had felt in his.
He reached the heavy gate of the primary stall. Inside, a low, guttural growl vibrated the very floorboards.
"Easy, girl," Thorn muttered.
He pulled the lever, and the gate slid open to reveal 'The Maqded'. The beast was a terrifying masterpiece of demonic evolution—six-legged, covered in shimmering, iridescent scales that shifted from black to deep violet, with a head like a dragon and eyes that glowed like molten gold. It was a creature born of the Void, capable of running across air and on land alike.
Thorn began to strap the heavy, gold-etched saddle onto the Maqded's broad back. The beast huffed, a puff of blue-flame smoke escaping its nostrils. Thorn worked with practiced, clinical efficiency. He tightened the cinches, checked the reins, and slid his ceremonial sword into its scabbard on the saddle's side.
Outside, the sky was darkening as the moon began its slow, hungry crawl across the sun. The Celebration of the Day of Eclipse was calling. The blood, the lust, and the chaos of the Shade Square were waiting.
Thorn climbed into the saddle, the Maqded shifting its weight eagerly beneath him. He looked toward the palace one last time, then toward the river where his maids were searching for a girl who should have been dead.
"Let's see if you're as lucky as you look, Hannah," he whispered to.
With a sharp kick to the beast's sides, the Maqded roared and lunged forward, bursting out of the estate and into the violet night, leaving a trail of dark sparks in its wake as they headed toward the heart of the city's debauchery.