"Tales of Desire: Forbidden Stories – Story 1: The Demon Queen's Throne". Genre: Dark Fantasy / Erotica / Power Play)
Chapter 13: Ashes and Iron
The court no longer whispered doubts about Kael. Not after he defeated General Taragon in the open arena. Whispers turned into watchful stares, and stares became murmurs of reluctant respect. Yet Kael knew that in the Demon Realm, power had to be proven constantly. Victory in one battle didn't ensure security—only survival.
Velzaria sat beside him on the obsidian balcony overlooking the lower city. Her long silver hair was loosely tied, and instead of her regalia, she wore a sleek black tunic, the fabric thin against her skin. There was a quiet tension in the air, not romantic, not lustful. Strategic.
"You impressed them," she said finally, her voice devoid of affection or praise.
"I didn't kill him."
"That was wise. Taragon's blood fuels many loyalties. Had you killed him, those would have turned on you."
Kael leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. The city below shimmered under the glow of demon-fire lanterns.
"He won't forget the humiliation."
"No, he won't. But you bought time. Time we need."
He turned to her. "Time for what?"
Velzaria stood, walking to the edge.
"Come with me. I'll show you."
The Scarlands
They traveled through the demon wastes by air—a chariot of bone and flame drawn by two wyverns. The sky overhead was a curtain of blackened clouds, and beneath them, red rock formations twisted like frozen lava. No sign of life. No cities. Just the wind and the smell of iron.
Kael squinted at the horizon. "Where are we going?"
"The battlefield," Velzaria said. "Where the real test begins."
When they landed, a dozen armored warriors awaited them. Not demons. Not exactly. Kael noticed their malformed faces, sharp edges, and glassy eyes.
"Are these... dead?"
"Not dead. Not alive. These are the Ember Guard. Spirits of fallen warriors bound into flesh. They follow only their last command."
She stepped into the circle of warriors. "And I'm about to give them a new one."
The Test of Command
"Each of these warriors once led a host. Now, they will test if you can do the same."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was earning your court's approval."
"You're not in my court now," Velzaria said. "You're in my army."
She tossed him a horn. A war-call.
"Lead them to take the ridge," she said, pointing to the high ground where four Ember Guard archers waited in defense. "No magic. No tricks. No help from me. Lead, or be broken."
Kael hesitated. He wasn't a general. He was a human thrust into a throne of blades.
But he raised the horn.
And blew.
The sound cut through the air, deep and wild.
The Ember Guard responded.
They moved without speech, without question. Like automatons of steel. Kael ran among them, shouting, motioning, adjusting their formation. At first, they responded stiffly. But he adapted quickly.
"Flank left! Two forward to draw fire! Shield up!"
He used motion, rock placement, and hand gestures. Slowly, their pattern formed.
An hour later, the ridge was taken. Two of the guards were down, but Kael stood tall, panting, victorious.
Velzaria watched from afar, arms crossed.
"You could've warned me they move like statues."
"You adapted."
"You could've helped."
"Then it wouldn't be your command, would it?"
Nightfall
They camped near the ridge, far from the citadel. Kael tended to the Ember Guard—though they didn't bleed, he adjusted their cracked armor and removed broken weapons.
Velzaria stood by the fire, staring into the flames. "You did better than I expected."
"Not exactly a glowing review."
"I don't offer comfort. Only truth."
He stepped beside her. "Then tell me something true. Why me? You rule a realm of warriors, monsters, magic. Why choose a human from another world?"
She didn't answer immediately. Then, softly:
"Because you see things differently."
Kael frowned. "Differently how?"
"You ask why. You hesitate. You think before you strike. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you rare."
Kael sat. "And that's what you want in a king?"
"I don't need a king," she said. "I need a balance."
Their eyes met. Not in lust. In understanding.
Memories of Fire
Later that night, Velzaria brought him to a secluded cliffside above the Scarlands. There, she conjured a flame—not fire as Kael knew it, but violet, flickering like shadow.
"This," she said, "is soulflame. Only born from pain."
She opened her palm, letting the flame hover.
"This is the fire of my past."
Kael watched as the flame took shape—a memory, a vision. A younger Velzaria, surrounded by demons. One of them wore a black crown. He recognized him from the murals: the Demon King before her.
"He was my father," she said. "He saw compassion as weakness. And when I hesitated to execute a prisoner..."
Kael saw it in the flame. Her chained. Tortured. Then freed. Bloodied, she took the throne in fire.
"That was my last moment as a daughter," she said.
Kael reached forward. Not to touch her—to touch the flame. It didn't burn him.
"And your first as a Queen," he said quietly.
Velzaria exhaled slowly. "I killed the past to create a future. One I still don't understand."
Kael looked into her eyes. "Then let me stand beside you. Help shape it."
The March East
Days later, Kael stood in full armor—not ceremonial robes, but reinforced steel layered with sigils. Beside him, Velzaria donned her battle regalia: horned helm, segmented black plates, and her twin crescent blades.
They rode at the front of an army of thousands.
Demons. Spirits. Shapeshifters. Ember Guard.
The eastern border of the Demon Realm was under siege by a foreign godspawn—a creature of madness from another dimension, spreading corruption.
Kael was not ready.
But he stood anyway.
Velzaria looked to him. No smile. No reassurance. But her gaze was steady.
And Kael knew:
He wasn't just the Queen's lover now.
He was her chosen.
And war awaited.
End of Chapter 13: Ashes and Iron