Rudaheim.
Zerath stared at the entrance to the Twilight Sanctum, equivalent to The Fourfold Covenant in the Human Realm.
He released a sigh. The temple reminded him of Casca's festival. The roof with its giant bell was where Zerath had expressed his love for Vivia under the colorful fireworks. He had been avoiding dropping a visit lest his heart would ache with the urge to meet her again. And now, having reunited with her in the astral realm, the longing had only carved itself deeper.
"Why are you still in the carriage?" Nefarion frowned with dissatisfaction.
He had already stepped out alongside Veloria and stood waiting.
Zerath stepped out and smiled. "Do we really need to trouble Sire over this? I'm fine. My arm is as good as new."
His gaze squinted severely. "Physically, you are, but some things are beyond that rationale. You could've lost your life in that wretched cave! You need to shed off that misfortune."
Nefarion didn't consider himself as a staunch religious demon. The concept of religion for demons was different from the Human Realm in any case.
Where the humans worshipped the four Goddesses of the Seasons, the demons held a more nuanced view. They revered the Sun and Moon more as primordial forces to maintain the world's cosmic balance rather than seeing Them as Gods or divine parents and themselves as Their children like humans did.
The Sire's aide and assistant greeted them.
"Welcome, Your Majesty," he bowed respectfully.
He escorted them to the altar where Sire Izrus awaited. The elderly demon's gaze was as sharp as ever. He stroked his white beard as he studied Zerath.
"So my lord has finally found the time to meet this humble servant? Last time, my lord was rather occupied attending to the human princess."
Zerath remained unfazed. "She was our esteemed guest, Sire Izrus. It seemed only fitting to give her a trip to the Sanctum personally."
"My lord, I understand that you'll be the future King of the realm. But I humbly implore upon you not to make such major decisions all on your own. I don't appreciate a human's presence in my Sanctum."
Zerath smiled pleasantly. "Strange. I, too, don't appreciate the Sanctum's approach to bypass my authority in sanctioning additional funds to it. I believe the palace provides more than enough money for the honorary Sanctum to function, yet it seems that someone is using the Three Great Families to exert their…influence."
One of the many reasons why Zerath strongly opposed coming here was that he was at loggerheads with Sire Izrus. The Sanctum guarded the important rituals in regards to the Blessed's birth and guided the Blessed according to the will of the primordial forces, while the Rudaheim palace governed the Demon Realm's political landscape. But over time, Zerath felt that the Sanctum was trying to over reach its boundaries and influence by stepping into laws and politics.
"Zerath!" Veloria's furious voice bellowed. Her already displeased gaze sharpened further with hostility.
"Do not disrespect the Sire! Have you completely forgotten your manners now?"
Zerath stiffened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "Apologies, Mother."
He bit his tongue almost immediately upon realizing his mistake, watching her clench her fists. Veloria has been clear on more than one occasion how she despised Zerath overstepping his boundaries.
Nefarion placed his palm over her shoulder. "It's alright."
"It's not," she said coldly, "How dare Zerath disrespect Sire like that? If not for his help during our difficult times…I would've given up a long time ago…" her lips quivered.
"Don't say that Veloria!" Nefarion blurted out with impatience.
The dark times of when they had lost their child, the strenuous period that mourned Veloria unable to bear another child again was a subject that would always rain down despair upon them. The loss of their child and the grief of never being able to become a mother again had left the two, especially Veloria, devastated.
Izrus faced her, a warm smile curving his lips ever so faintly. "Calm down, Your Majesty. I understand your pain, but I simply carried out my responsibilities. It's upon the Sanctum to help the lost find their way back. I'm glad I was able to help you."
Thinking about the painful past welled tears into her eyes. Before she felt herself spiraling into that abyss again, she quickly wiped them away.
Zerath breathed out and said, "Apologies, Sire."
While his grievances remained, it was equally the truth that without his help, Veloria and Nefarion would not have found their footing during those despair-filled years.
"No need, my lord. I, too, must understand the diplomacy you're obliged to when it concerns the human princess."
Diplomacy wasn't even in the equation.
Zerath kept that thought to himself.
"Coming to the matter at hand, I heard my lord was involved in some serious accident."
Nefarion said grimly, "He could've lost his life in that cave."
"That's indeed unfortunate. But how did my lord even reach that cave if it was hidden underground?" He was confused.
"Happenstance. The wizard present in our troop sensed some abnormal energy. I decided to investigate."
Nefarion said, "I ask that you perform your purifying ritual upon Zerath. We don't know what kind of negative energy may have latched onto him."
"Certainly, Your Majesty. Please come with me. There's someone else here to keep my lord company as well."
—
Zerath was only half-pleased by the company Sire Izrus had mentioned. Before him were two demons - both belonging to the Great Three.
"Your Majesty," The elder of the two demons greeted first.
Nefarion said, "Slavien. Your complexion looks much better than before."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Though I wouldn't like to keep up any hopes…" he said wryly.
Though Slavien was the same age as Astaroth, one could easily see the stark differences in their pallor and builds. Where Astaroth was the peak definition of muscle and strength that embodied the spirit of a strong demon, Slavien was the complete opposite.
He could barely stand for much longer, which meant his usual posture to greet someone was when he was seated. In contrast to Astaroth, his skin was paler and body more fragile.
Veloria said softly, "You shouldn't speak like that. Even though your death was predicted at an early age, you came this far. You lived this far. Believe in the stars."
Her heart ached. True that his complexion had improved, but it wasn't any drastically better either. To be born sick and live with an incurable heart condition was devastating. As a mother who had lost her child, her empathy for his family ran deep.
"Believe in the stars…" his voice lacked spirit. "I do wonder what the stars want for me to keep on living an invalid life like this."
Years of sickness had brought a doom to his general beliefs and outlook, but one hardly blamed him.
Sire Izrus said, "You mustn't lose hope, young lord Slavien. You'll soon be able to live with a healthy body. I feel it. The Sun and Moon won't let you down."
Slavien's parents bowed humbly with tears in their eyes. "We wish so too, Sire."
Zerath remained impassive, but it was Slavein's family behind his very displeasure - the same family who had donated considerable sums of money to the Sanctum.
Donations were a grey area. Demons were free to donate as much as they wished for. But for wealthy families like Slavien's, the matter became complicated. The public point of view was obvious.
Sire Izrus was closely involved with Slavien's purification rituals at regular intervals. It was believed that it was his contribution more than the attending physician's that Slavein was able to live for this long despite the prediction of an early demise. Donations flowed in naturally in exchange for their son's wellbeing.
But Zerath didn't like it - neither the donations nor the fact that everybody in this moment was conveniently ignoring the other demon present.
"Fenrik. You came to the Sanctum too. I thought you hated being here," he smiled.
Young Fenrik, belonging to the last of the Great Three, came forward.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I simply thought of accompanying Brother Slavien for the trip. I was getting bored at home."
Displeasure filled Veloria's gaze, similar to Slavien's parents. The earlier flow of conversation came to a standstill as Fenrik came into view.
Slavien smiled. "I'm surprised he didn't get bored by a sick man's company."
"I didn't," he then looked at Zerath, "When can I come and play with you at the palace, Your Highness?" Fenrik asked quite openly.
"You can come at any-"
"The palace is not anybody's playground," Veloria sharply cut off Zerath mid-sentence.
Nefarion cleared his throat. "Veloria simply means you should be on your best behavior. Well, you can play in the courtyard but not all around."
Fenrik frowned. "Does Her Majesty truly mean that? Or does she not want me there because some great ancestor of mine ran away with a human woman some five hundred years ago who nobody even remembers anymore?"