She watched as Azrakar dropped to one knee not of his own volition....For the first time.
Vyx’aria stood exalted, towering, her shadow-wreathed form pulsing with Maelzafan’s divine touch. Her skin shimmered with runic flame, edges blurred with smoke and power. She said nothing.
Around her, priestesses screamed. Five more fell to the ground, their eyes weeping blood, their flesh burning from within as the binding consumed them.
But Vyx’aria did not flinch. She only looked at him.
His gaze met hers, not with fury, not with wrath, but sorrow. It twisted something inside her, but her face revealed nothing. Silent. Impossible to read.
And then she turned.
Each step echoed with finality as she walked away, leaving Azrakar to his new mistress.
Several Weeks Later – The Spine, Surface Camp
The wind howled through the Spine’s jagged peaks, biting cold and stinging snow sweeping across the camp’s perimeter wards. They were back where she had first met Azrakar.
Vyx’aria stood before the fire, arms folded. The divine pulse still hummed faintly beneath her skin.
Lysdania approached at a measured pace, watching her mistress with scrutiny. “The demon… was almost convincing,” the commander said at last. “A waste to lose him.”
Vyx’aria’s lips curved into a knowing grin. “Oh, Azrakar was not entirely deceitful.”
Lysdania stopped walking. “…Then why give him to Matron Elzyrra?”
Vyx’aria’s gaze flicked toward the mountains, voice cool and deliberate. “Because I expect him to break out. In fact, I’m counting on it.” She turned fully now, eyes gleaming like daggers. “If I moved against Dalrithia’s agent myself, I’d have torn the Underdark into civil war. The goddess sees everything within her realm. But now? Elzyrra owns him. So when he escapes… she will be the one who failed Maelzafan, and by extension Dalrithia. Their entire regime crumbles in one fell swoop without any mass casualty or war between houses.”
“And who do you think Maelzafan will turn to then?” she asked with a smirk. “Her favored daughter.”
Lysdania arched a brow. “Why not tell Azrakar?”
Vyx’aria scoffed. “Because his pride would never have allowed it. I tested him. I asked him to kneel to Maelzafan.” She shrugged once. “He refused.”
A long pause followed. Then Lysdania said quietly, “Perhaps… he would have done it for you.”
Vyx’aria’s jaw clenched. The flicker of heat in her eyes returned, sharp, defensive. But she said nothing.
Instead, she stepped past the fire and changed the subject. “Gather his best orcs. Position them to infiltrate Elzyrra’s sanctum and target the priestesses. The ones responsible for reinforcing the bindings. Set the orcs loose and tell them it's to retrieve their King. Stay uninvolved. Maelzafan cannot see our hand in this.”
Lysdania nodded. “…And when he’s free? Will he not come to kill you?”
Vyx’aria stopped walking. “..I'd like to see him try."
Azrakar
Vyx’aria stood exalted, towering, her shadow-wreathed form pulsing with Maelzafan’s divine touch. Her skin shimmered with runic flame, edges blurred with smoke and power. She said nothing.
Around her, priestesses screamed. Five more fell to the ground, their eyes weeping blood, their flesh burning from within as the binding consumed them.
But Vyx’aria did not flinch. She only looked at him.
His gaze met hers, not with fury, not with wrath, but sorrow. It twisted something inside her, but her face revealed nothing. Silent. Impossible to read.
And then she turned.
Each step echoed with finality as she walked away, leaving Azrakar to his new mistress.
-----------------------------
Several Weeks Later – The Spine, Surface Camp
The wind howled through the Spine’s jagged peaks, biting cold and stinging snow sweeping across the camp’s perimeter wards. They were back where she had first met Azrakar.
Vyx’aria stood before the fire, arms folded. The divine pulse still hummed faintly beneath her skin.
Lysdania approached at a measured pace, watching her mistress with scrutiny. “The demon… was almost convincing,” the commander said at last. “A waste to lose him.”
Vyx’aria’s lips curved into a knowing grin. “Oh, Azrakar was not entirely deceitful.”
Lysdania stopped walking. “…Then why give him to Matron Elzyrra?”
Vyx’aria’s gaze flicked toward the mountains, voice cool and deliberate. “Because I expect him to break out. In fact, I’m counting on it.” She turned fully now, eyes gleaming like daggers. “If I moved against Dalrithia’s agent myself, I’d have torn the Underdark into civil war. The goddess sees everything within her realm. But now? Elzyrra owns him. So when he escapes… she will be the one who failed Maelzafan, and by extension Dalrithia. Their entire regime crumbles in one fell swoop without any mass casualty or war between houses.”
“And who do you think Maelzafan will turn to then?” she asked with a smirk. “Her favored daughter.”
Lysdania arched a brow. “Why not tell Azrakar?”
Vyx’aria scoffed. “Because his pride would never have allowed it. I tested him. I asked him to kneel to Maelzafan.” She shrugged once. “He refused.”
A long pause followed. Then Lysdania said quietly, “Perhaps… he would have done it for you.”
Vyx’aria’s jaw clenched. The flicker of heat in her eyes returned, sharp, defensive. But she said nothing.
Instead, she stepped past the fire and changed the subject. “Gather his best orcs. Position them to infiltrate Elzyrra’s sanctum and target the priestesses. The ones responsible for reinforcing the bindings. Set the orcs loose and tell them it's to retrieve their King. Stay uninvolved. Maelzafan cannot see our hand in this.”
Lysdania nodded. “…And when he’s free? Will he not come to kill you?”
Vyx’aria stopped walking. “..I'd like to see him try."
Azrakar