FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING

The air in the demon realm crackled with an energy Arella had never experienced. The moment they stepped through the portal, Arella felt as if she was experiencing a dream, or even maybe a nightmare. The demon realm greeted her with a haunting magnificence she had never imagined. The sky stretched endlessly above, painted in hues of crimson and deep violet, streaked with veins of molten gold that pulsated like living fire. That gold color was something that was supposed to only be available to the demon realm. Arella squinted her eyes at it, suspicious as to why it was here.

In the distance, jagged mountains rose, their peaks shrouded in swirling mists. The ground beneath her feet was obsidian, a dark marble that had been polished so finely that it reflected the faint glow of her wings.

A gust of warm air swept over her, carrying a hum of energy that seemed so foreign yet so familiar. It was almost intoxicating, and Arella was almost sure that it was alive. The energy seemed to thrum with the heartbeat of the realm itself.

The portal behind them shimmered for a few seconds more as the demons who had been attending the wedding stepped through. Echo came to stand behind her; at the side, the king was not standing. His ears were flattened, and he seemed like the ever-docile pet. She patted the fur at the top of his head. Echo rubbed his head on her palm, obviously enjoying the familiar touch.

"The Shadow Hound belongs to you?" King Varziel's voice was low.

Arella looked up at him, her eyes slightly wide. "Yes. He is important to me."

"I see." The demon king did not say more.

He still gripped her hand tightly in his own as the portal thrummed with the holy power she was used to before it began to vanish with a faint hum.

They were standing on a raised dais, far above the ground. Arella's breath caught at the sight before her. Thousands—no, tens of thousands—of demons filled a massive courtyard that stretched out below them. Their forms were varied; some bore dark leathery wings that spanned wide, while others had horns that were twisted up into intricate patterns, while others had skin as red as blood, and even more had scales that caught in the light like jewels.

Here in the demon realm, it was late evening, and the eyes of the demons glowed in the dim lighting in varying shades of green, silver, and red, each pair fixed on the couple that stood above them.

Arella was almost scared to take a step forward, afraid to show herself to all those demons. The very same species she had been taught over the years to hate, to fight, and to absolutely abhor. King Varziel's hand, still grabbing her own, pulled her forward, refusing to leave her behind. The demons who had come to the wedding stayed back, not wanting to take the attention away from their king and queen.

Close to the edge of the dais, Arella could now better see the demons. They were dressed in outfits that did not resemble those of the angel realm in the slightest. Clothes back in the angel realm were always white, with embellishments of different colors. The important thing to note is that the primary color was always white.

From what she could see from up on the dais, the demons wore dark colored clothing. In addition to that, the style did not follow the modesty of the one she was used to. Even from her vantage point, she could see a female demon wearing a dress with a v-shaped cut at the front that was so low that it exposed her belly button.

A hush fell over the crowd once Varziel raised his free hand. It was as if his very presence commanded attention. Arella looked up at him. Even she had to admit that his aura was electric, demanding the attention of anyone who was in his presence. Arella's back was ramrod straight, a habit from being put through rigorous education in her younger days. Her wings fluttered ever so slightly, and the halo on her head seemed to shine so brightly.

"Welcome," Varziel's voice boomed over the courtyard effortlessly. "Today marks the day I, the demon King Varziel, took in a queen. We shall drink and be merry for four days, as the preparations have long been made. I thank you all for being here to celebrate."

The crowd boomed with cheers.

This was silenced almost immediately when the demon king raised his hand once more. King Varziel glanced at Arella, a small smile playing on his lips. "You need to speak to your new kingdom, my queen. They await your words."

Arella's pulse quickened, and she looked at the crowd. Once again, she had to thank her mother for teaching her everything she would ever need to know. She used holy power to work on her vocal cords to ensure that her voice was just as loud as King Varziel's was. "I may not be one of you.," her voice carried on in the wind, "but I promise to serve as your queen with honor and fairness. This realm is now my home, and you demons my own. I protect those I consider my family, and that now extends to all those in the demon realm."

The crowd stirred, a mix of murmurs and half-hearted cheers. She did not blame them, though. She was, after all, their sworn enemy.

Varziel squeezed her hand. "Beautifully spoken, my queen," he murmured before turning to address the crowd once more. "Tonight, we celebrate; tomorrow, we celebrate; the day after, we celebrate; and the day after that, we celebrate more. Let the festivities begin!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, roars, applause, and deep guttural sounds that only demons could produce. Arella's senses were nearly overwhelmed by the sounds as the cheers lowered and music filled the air. The melody played was hauntingly beautiful, played on instruments she had never seen before. The song seemed to send something through Arella's body. It was something she could not quite pinpoint.

S/T:

(The demons are discussing Arella after she appears through the portal.)

Demon one: Why is it so bright so suddenly? (His words cause all the demons around him to look up at the dais.)

Demon two: Is that the queen?

Demon three: Are you sure that that is not the sun?

Demon two: The sun shining so brightly this late in the year?

Demon one: It really is the queen!

Demon four: Is it not their wedding? Why is she wearing a mourning dress? Is she mourning this union? Is getting married to our king that sad?

Demon two: Surely that cannot be the reason.

Demon one: Perhaps she looks down on this union. Thinks it is beneath her.

Demon four: (Scoffs) I would not put it past an angel to have such thoughts

Demon three: I think she looks beautiful. Her hair is so bright.

Demon two: That is a halo dumbass. Have you never seen one before?

Demon three: Is that why she looks like the sun?

Demon two: I just cannot with you.