The Hero Given to the Demon Queen

The grey mist began to thin.

Elara spun around. The warm presence at her back was already fading.

“Hey—where are you going? Answer me! Why are you helping me? Who are you really? What are you?”

Only silence answered. The last threads of the Goddess’s form dissolved into drifting ash.

Desperation made Elara reckless.

“The Goddess of Light knocked you out! You lost to her! I didn’t know you were that weak!”

The mist stopped thinning.

A low, echoing chuckle rolled through the emptiness. Then a throne of packed ash and pale stone simply existed where nothing had been a moment before. The Goddess of Ashes sat upon it, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting on her fist. Her golden eyes narrowed, but her voice remained almost bored.

“The Goddess of Light? Who is that?”

Elara stared. “You… you don’t know? She’s the ruler of everything. The highest being. The books say that even if only her shadow appeared in our world, this entire dimension would be destroyed. That’s the kind of existence she is.”

The Goddess regarded her with empty, faintly amused eyes.

“And the ancient gods? Where are they?”

“There are no ancient gods. There’s only one. The Goddess of Light. She owns everything.”

A quiet, thoughtful hum left the Goddess’s throat. She spoke more to herself than to Elara.

“So when they sealed me… they either died or were drained of power.”

Elara’s voice rose. “What? How—?”

The Goddess rose from the throne without using her legs. She drifted forward and once again wrapped her arms around Elara from behind, resting her chin on the mortal’s shoulder as if it were the most natural place in the world.

“So it was you who woke me.”

Heat flooded Elara’s face. “I don’t even know what you are. You say you’re a goddess. My head is spinning. Are you good or evil? Please just answer me.”

“I don’t know,” the Goddess replied lightly. “You decide.”

“That’s not an answer! Stop talking in riddles!”

Elara twisted enough to look at her, voice raw.

“There’s a Demon Queen who’s obsessed with me. Now the Goddess and her angels are after me too. I need power. I need your help. I don’t have any other choice.”

The golden eyes brightened. Around them the grey emptiness suddenly bloomed with flowers—pale, ashen blossoms that looked as if they had grown from dust. They covered the ground in every direction. Elara turned in a slow circle, stunned.

The Goddess plucked one of the flowers, held it up, and gently blew. It crumbled into fine grey ash that drifted across Elara’s cheek.

Her voice was soft, almost tender, yet vast.

“I am not a power inside you, little bird. I am a cruelty too merciless for you to comprehend, and a kindness pure enough for you to feel. I am a destruction too vast for human minds, and a mercy small enough to fit inside a heart. If you want my help, you will first believe in the ashes beneath the ground you kneel on… and then in the one who will pull you out of them.”

Elara’s throat worked. “So you want me to worship you?”

The Goddess laughed, quiet and delighted, circling her slowly.

“Nooo. I don’t want you to believe in me. You already do.” A playful tilt of the head. “The atmosphere was just getting a little heavy, so I decided to say some cool goddess lines.”

Elara’s eye twitched. “Are you making fun of me right now?”

“And I don’t believe in you,” she added stubbornly. “Where did you even get that idea?”

The Goddess moved faster than sight. Elara found herself on her back in the soft ash, the Goddess straddling her waist, grey hair spilling around them like a curtain. Cool fingers stroked through Elara’s golden strands with startling gentleness.

“Liar. You suffered so much for me. You called me just to break the seals. I can feel the force of your faith so clearly it almost hurts.”

Elara’s voice came out small. “That wasn’t faith. It was… probably just the desire for power.”

“Now you’re lying to yourself as well.”

In the next blink the Goddess was back on her throne, chin in hand again, as if the entire exchange had bored her.

“I still can’t fully awaken. Most of the seals are still holding. When your father burned, the pain was so great I was able to take your body for a while. I never understood why it hurt you that much… but for some reason…” Her golden eyes narrowed, almost annoyed. “I no longer enjoy it when my beloved suffers.”

Elara pushed herself up on her elbows, face scarlet. “Beloved? What are you talking about?”

“Anyway, anyway. Let’s not get caught up in empty things and confuse you further.” The Goddess waved a lazy hand. “A large part of my seal is still calling me back. So you will have to feed me.”

“Feed you how? What happens if I don’t?”

“Then the seals lock again, and you will probably experience very unpleasant things. That isn’t a threat. It’s simply the truth.”

Elara swallowed. “The Archangel…”

The Goddess’s face lit up with sudden, bright delight.

“Perfect! Look, the problem is already starting to solve itself.”

“Wait—wait, one last question.” Elara’s voice was urgent. “The power you showed back there… was that only a leak? Because you still aren’t fully awake? Did I understand correctly?”

The Goddess gave her a long, bored look. Then she simply dissolved into drifting ash without answering.

The grey world collapsed.

—

Elara did not wake.

In the dark bedroom of the hidden house her body shifted closer to the warmth beside her. One hand slid upward under the thin white shirt Alvia wore, palm settling fully over a soft breast. The other arm tightened around Alvia’s waist, fingers spreading across her stomach. Elara made a small, contented sound in her sleep and nuzzled between Alvia’s shoulder blades.

Alvia’s eyes were wide open.

Her entire body had gone rigid. Heat flooded her face, her ears, her chest, and lower. She could feel every slight movement of Elara’s fingers, the slow brush of a thumb that had no right to feel so good. Her heart was hammering so hard she was certain it would wake the other woman. She didn’t dare breathe too deeply.

She’s asleep, Alvia told herself frantically. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s only asleep.

But the hand on her breast shifted, squeezing gently, and a helpless shiver ran through her. Her own body was reacting—nipples tightening against the thin fabric, a low, traitorous ache building between her legs. She bit her lip hard enough to taste copper.

Is she doing this on purpose?

Does she… want me?

No. No, she’s asleep. I don’t even matter to her. Why am I thinking like this? Stop it. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will herself into unconsciousness. It refused to come. Her mind kept spinning through everything that had happened: the Archangel chained in the cellar like an animal, the Demon Queen, the real Goddess, the ash, the way Elara had laughed while a man screamed… and now here they were, half-naked in a magically hidden house, Elara’s hands roaming her body as if it belonged to her.

What have I fallen into?

Elara murmured something unintelligible, withdrew her hands, and rolled over—only to immediately scoot backward again, throwing an arm back over Alvia’s waist and pulling her close like a personal bolster.

“My pillow…” she sighed, already deeply under again.

Alvia stared at the dark ceiling, face burning, body still thrumming.

“…Understood,” she whispered to no one. “She really does think I’m a pillow. Fine. Just… sleep, Alvia. Sleep.”

It took a long time.

But eventually the steady warmth of the body curled against her back, the quiet breathing, and pure exhaustion dragged her under as well.

Outside the charmed walls, the forest remained silent.

Dawn was still hours away.