Here continues the story of the demons of the House of Brax, ruled with an iron fist by the Demon King Brandon and his Witchly Queen Minerva. Though they now have a daughter to call their own, she is not the TRUE heir to the throne. What lies in wait for these denizens of evil?
The night is full of terrors, creatures without faces that lurk the halls of the damned, causing those young of heart to be fearful in their dreams. This night was no exception. For as her father and mother slept, Shiyra was crying in her own small chambers down the hall. Minerva’s green eyes flashed open, and she was about to get up herself, when her Master and husband slipped out of bed before she could. He doted on their daughter, and rather than follow him down, Minerva sat up in the bed, toying at her collar, that she still wore after the years the followed the Great war..
So much had changed after the fateful events of the arena fight between Henry and Brandon. It was the end of an era and the loss to the Casterly that was still being felt to this day. But any dreams they had of a peaceful existence after the war, was short lived, when Prince Joffrey returned, fueled with bitterness and hate of losing his own family in this war of the light and dark. Having sent the family of Brax to exile, he stood in as King of Brax, but to this day that role was becoming more and more uncertain, with the Prince’s erratic behavior. It would only be a matter of time, before the people would voice their want for the return of the King, something Minerva believed wholeheartedly.
Her thought pattern was broken, as the King returned, carrying the sniffling child in his arms. He laid down with her so that she could be given comfort from her parents. Minerva joined with her husband, in keeping the child close to her, and her eyes met his till his lids slowly closed. At dawn, there would be much to discuss, about their future….and the role that they would again play in the Night lands.
Black Fog Castle – The Night Lands.
Alone in the Throne room, Joffrey sat upon the throne of his father. In his right hand, a jeweled chalice of red wine, that he tipped back and forth lazily. He had aged a great deal since the end of the demon war, and was allowed to return to the Night lands, well before the return of the bodies of the King and Queen of Casterly. Joffrey had lost everything. Selene, Tempest…everything that mattered. Even Nanny had left the Night lands, and he found himself with no confident, no love to call his own. This was not how it should have been. Not in his mind. All he had for solice, was that he reigned over the Night lands, but the people hated him. Why you might think? Many blamed him for the whole war in the first place. The beheading of the Angel Orion, then leaving the battlefield, to go and try to take Haven Castle on his own. He was seen as a coward. A sham. And now, he was starting to believe it himself.
He took another sip of his wine, and stared straight ahead. The dawn would bring a new day….
As the three year old raced down the hall leading from her father and mother’s chambers she would giggle with delight knowing she had given her loving father the slip for the moment. As was her normal she started off by sitting in the kitchen watching the chef’s cook the morning meal silently even though they knew usual when she showed trouble was more then likely to follow. Though this time that was not to be as she just sat there for a good five to ten minutes before slipping out of the kitchen and making her way through the halls. As she made her way through the halls she would hum to herself before she happened upon the Nanny’s quarter’s now left empty with her leaving the night lands. Slowly she would push open the door to the Nanny’s chambers before squeaking as she spotted a large feline covered in gold fur dressed in markings that looked like the bolts of ligthtening that fell from the sky relaxing upon the meager bed. Her eyes wide with fear the young demoness would be rooted in place before the majestic feline looked upon the young demoness and offered a soft sedate purr of acknowledgement. As she stood there she prepared to scream shrilly with an in drawn breath. Though that scream died upon lips as the large feline slowly stood and made his way over to her before nuzzling her side soothingly causing instead a soft giggle to escape her lips. “Your fur is soft Mr.Kitty…” Slowly then the large feline would pull away before a soft content purr would echo the room once again. It was clear to the young demoness Shiyra that this feline was here to protect and serve her from the way he was acting. How did she know the feline was a he you might ask? She had managed to sneak a peek when her parents where in the act of making love to one another. So thusly she in her mind knew what made up a man and a women for the most part though she had no idea why her daddy made mommy scream and beg for more. This was a fact beyond her comprehension so she just ignored it and went about her daily life. Shiyra would then ask calmly feeling safe in this large feline’s presence. “What’s your Name Mr. Kitty?” When asked the feline would reply telepathically to the young demoness’s question. “The name is Orion of the Mountain’s Milady might i ask the same of yours?” With her question answered Shiyra would respond in kind with a content tone “Me’s Shiyra Brax pwincess of Brax.” Shirya would then tilt her head before giggling impishly. “C’mon Owion wet’s go pway wiff me’s bwother…” That being said the princess of brax would tear out of the bedroom and make a beeline for the throne room where she soon spotted her older brother Joff with Orion right behind her. Silently she would slip from shadow to shadow trying to sneak up on her brother before she lunged from the shadow with a roar “RAWR!!! I’ma eat you bwother!!! I’m a flesh eating Dwagon!!!” Should she succeed in her lunge she would land right on Joff’s lap before attempting to feast on his left arm with a giggle obviously wanting to play with her elder brother.
The first rays of the sun’s light had crossed the vast windows of the Throne room, illuminating the dark hall with its brilliance. This very light brought out every wrinkle and crag in Prince Joffrey’s face. His dour expression making him look even older than he truly was. The wine in the chalice had long since been drunk, and the servants all slumbered at their posts in an effort to serve him through the night. The Prince simply let the empty chalice slip from his fingers, and land with a clatter upon the stone floor at his feet. A loud belch followed, and the Prince then stretched and gave his balls a good rub whilst smacking his lips lazily. Blood shot eyes looked around the room, and he said simply.
“Don’t get up…I can *burps*..get my own wine.” His voice lacking enthusiasm as he was about to stand up from the throne, which he had occupied all through the night. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny flicker of movement. The pitter patter of wee feet. Joffrey’s eyes narrowed, as an impish giggle was heard, followed by a child like roar sound.
~Ugh…it’s the kid.~
Before he knew it, the child had lunged at his arm and sang out;
“RAWR!!! I’ma eat you bwother!!! I’m a flesh eating Dwagon!!!”
Joffrey found the girl had leapt onto his lap in a bid to get access to his arm, which she bit with great zeal, and tiny sharp little teeth. Her giggles were insane, and down right annoying.
“Oh..delightful. I am to be food to a dwagon. Hope that is written on my tombstone. “Here lies Prince Joffrey. Eaten at dawn by a midget.”
He held up his arm, with the child dangling off it, giggling and biting on hard.
“You are a terror, aren’t you?”
The Prince had something of a soft spot for the child, but would never dare let this on to anyone. Yes, he spoke to her like she was the royal brat, but she had a striking similarity to his own daughter at this age. Was history repeating itself? Two guards awoke from their slumber, and chuckled to see the Prince being “attacked”.
“Next one who laughs, shall have their head stretched, and their necks pierced…..AND GO ON TO MEET GOD VERY QUICKLY!”
Needless to say, the Guards stopped laughing.
Just when the Prince didn’t think his morning could get any worse, the Terror Princess was about to ramp up the play a few notches. It was one thing to have her biting his arm, but the next attack was far more dangerous. A power that had come from the fire of her eyes, caused an arc of electricity. A blue blazing light that shot down and hit Joffrey in the groin. The Prince went cross eyed at first, and tried to shake the girl free, as she was unleashing a magic he had little hope of stopping.
“Stop that. Naughty, naughty Shiyra.” He exclaimed, only to next have his nipples hit by the small streaks of lightning like electricity. “OUCH! Not funny…Not…funny!” Joffrey was gritting his teeth, as his nipples flamed red from the sparks. The members of staff in the throne room gasped at the series of attacks, which ended with a final shot to the groin. Clearly, a favorite point of attack. As the child ran off, Joffrey fell out of the throne forward, clutching his damaged groin, smoke coming from his pants. The score was Shiyra 1, Joff 0.
From the comfort of her bed, Minerva heard the loud shriek of her daughter. It was coming from down the hall. Minerva threw back her covers, seeing the King was also missing. What on earth was their daughter up too? Minerva quickly put on a red robe and ran out of her chambers, trying to hunt down her daughter. But who would reach her first?
Brandon came tearing through the halls hot on the heels of his wife in the desperate bid to get to his treasured daughter. Of course Minerva would be the first to reach the young princess as he was immediately behind her in the race to their daughter. At once he would bend over and pick up their little terror before cooing softly and trying to sooth her. When that failed and the crying continued unabated would Brandon look to his wife clearly confused before handing her over to his wife in hopes she could calm and reassure the young frightened princess. Brandon would then look to the painting and see it was that of his former queen rose and snarled before he reached up and tore it down only to hand it to a servant with explicit orders for it to be disposed of. The servant would nod slowly before skittering away leaving the couple to deal with their daughter and try to calm her.
By the Gods, the skies erupted and the black clouds gathered in increasing numbers. Swirling with vortexs and the shimmer of lightning as it darted and raced through the crowds. Tumbling roars from the sky and all because a little girl ran into an ugly painting and got scared by the sinister face upon the canvas. With her light robe fluttering behind her as she ran in the direction of her child’s screams, wild hair flowing behind her; Minerva looked every part the true witch she was, till she rounded the last corner, and there up ahead, her child was on the ground sobbing in a heap.
The last few steps, she was about to reach out for her child, when her husband and Master raced past and scooped up the child in his arms, in an attempt to soothe her from her fright. Minerva hung back, and clasped her hands together, hoping that the King could bring her child’s tears to an end. But it did not take her attention off the way the clouds and the sky was almost crying and angered. Was this the child’s doing?
Soon, it was revealed that the painting of the former Queen Rose had scared the child so much that she had been screaming in terror. The King ordered the painting be destroyed and not a moment too soon. As it was torn down, the tearing of the canvas was like music to Minerva’s ears. That woman deserved no place on the hallowed walls of the Brax castle. Seeing the servant rush away to destroy it, she looked back to her Husband, who handed the child to her. Minerva held the child tightly to her bosom and murmured quiet words, like a chant that normally brought the person who listened peace. She stroked the child’s hair and hoped this would help stop her tears.
“Daddy fixed it. The bad lady will burn in a fire and you will never see that painting again.”
He would jump in surprise as the the lightning bolt blew a chunk out of the wall with a suddenness that he had least expected before muttering to himself. “I’ll need to have the mason’s fix that…” As he watched his wife and daughter he would raise a brow before sighing gently knowing that their daughter had obviously inherited her mother’s witch half yet was as cold and cruel like her father was. It honestly intrigued Brandon to the point of wondering if he should be fearful of the magical aspect of his beloved daughter or proud of it. Though he knew she was still young and had not the slightest idea to what she was nor what she was capable of. As Brandon watched ever so protectively a soft smile would cross his face knowing that his beloved daughter would do him proud when she grew up into the women she was destined to be.