The proposal

I knew not when sleep had claimed me. The curtains were drawn wide, and beyond them, the night had already devoured the day. The world outside lay cloaked in shadows, with only the moon standing guard amidst a sea of stars.

I stirred and found myself upon the bed—yet I remembered falling asleep on the couch. When had I been moved?

The weight of the royal attire still clung to me, its silken folds heavy with gold and silence. How could I have slept under such burden? My jewels were fewer now, who take them off?

Rising, I drifted toward the balcony, my anklets whispering against the marble floor. The air was cool, carrying with it the scent of the distant gardens. I sank into the swing, and as it swayed beneath the moonlight, I gazed at the heavens—so vast, so eternal.

A strange hollowness spread within me. Memories stirred—of the grand halls echoing with laughter, my chamber bathed in silver light, the quiet corners of my palace that once felt alive with warmth.

Now, they seemed like fragments of another life.

I want to go home, my soul cried, though no sound escaped my lips. Tears gathered, shimmering like small stars as I closed my eyes and surrendered to the gentle rhythm of the swing—drifting between dreams and the wind’s soft sigh.

What is with the logic of this Earth? Why does the day burn me, while the night soothes my soul? I was lost within the labyrinth of my own questions.

The beauty of this realm is surreal. It feels alive—not with magic, yet something far beyond it. The murmur of rivers as they embrace the stones, the whispering wind swirling through unseen paths, the delicate scent of flowers carried across the fields. Everything breathes in contrasts—the silent, barren rocks standing beside vast, living meadows; the sky shifting its hues with quiet grace, accepting every change as though it were art itself.

And then, there are the humans. They are… beyond understanding.

They speak with such sweetness, show care with such warmth. They hold hands, they hug, they praise—unceasingly. They sense my hesitation, my unease, and somehow ease it, without a trace of cruelty or expectation. How strange… how disarming.

What are they, truly? They are nothing like what I was told.

Are they truly so kind—or is this all a façade woven with perfect smiles?

I am fighting against every shard of my knowledge to comprehend them. And for what reason? I am not meant to stay here. Soon, I shall return to my own world… and never again look upon these fragile, confounding beings.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

What puzzles me most is the length of the day.

When those first rays fall upon me, it feels as though my very existence begins to burn. The sunlight pierces my skin, searing deeper than mere heat—it reaches something within me, something not meant for this world.

My powers vanish in an instant. My strength drains away, my vision blurs, and darkness claims me before I can even resist.

But what happens after that?

Why do I not burn completely? Why does the sun spare me halfway?

And when night returns, how is it that I awaken whole again—my powers restored, my skin unscathed, not a single mark of the torment that devoured me just hours before?

What unseen law governs this place? What balance allows my destruction and renewal to exist side by side, as if both are bound to a rhythm I cannot comprehend?

How do these things work?

All these thoughts will surely drive me mad.

Why am I even thinking about them at all?

I only need to protect myself—and escape from here. I must return to my home… to my reign… to my queendom, where I command every creature and every force capable of shaping—or destroying—entire universes.

Remembering my true purpose, my real self, I lifted my gaze to the sky as it grew darker. The moon hung there, strange and unfamiliar. Its shape seemed to waver. Was it fading… or was this not the same moon at all?

“How will I go back to my home?” I whispered, my eyes fixed upon that pale light.

Then, a memory stirred.

She had taken me home once. She had flown toward the heavens—toward that very moon. Yes, I remembered now. She had crossed this very sky, stepped upon the moon’s surface, and there a surge of raw energy had engulfed us both. And the next moment… we stood in her royal court.

A smile curved upon my lips.

Yes. That was the path. That was the way home.

How foolish of me not to see it sooner—when the answer had been shining before me all along.

Rising from the swing, a rush of exhilaration swept through me. The thought of returning home—of reclaiming what was mine—filled me with fierce joy. I stripped away the ornaments that bound me: the heavy waistband, the anklets that sang with every step, the bangles, the rings, the jeweled veil that weighed upon my head. I cast them aside, letting them fall like shattered memories across the marble floor.

I brought my hands together and closed my eyes. Power thrummed beneath my skin.

And then—they appeared.

My wings.

Majestic, radiant, alive. The sound of them unfurling filled the air like a hymn of freedom. I felt it once again—the boundless strength, the sovereignty that had slept within me too long.

Lifting my gaze, I looked at the moon—my gateway, my destiny.

I spread my wings wide, their light shimmering against the night, and with a breath that carried both relief and resolve… I prepared to take flight.

I charged toward the moon— and then a searing pain tore through my wings.

“Ahhhhhh…!”

The scream ripped from my throat as fire engulfed me. My wings—they were burning!

How? Why? The agony coursed through every vein, every nerve, until even my breath felt like flame. I couldn’t bear it—not even for a heartbeat.

I screamed again, the sound breaking against the marble walls. How do I stop this fire? How do I end it?

I stumbled back into the chamber, half-blind with pain. I needed help—but from whom? Who could I even ask? What could be worse than this—

a ruler of realms reduced to begging for aid?

I tried to steady myself, to summon control.

“Disappear,” I commanded my wings, but they refused. The fire only raged fiercer, the light from them turning wild and violent.

They began to flap uncontrollably— each beat sending waves of heat across the room.

The curtains caught first, then the couches, then the bed. The air itself burned, thick with smoke and fury. That same piercing heat that the sun once brought now consumed everything around me.

I could no longer think. My body trembled, my power faltered. The world spun, fading into molten blur.

“Someone… please… help me…”

The whisper barely left my lips.

I couldn’t lose consciousness. Not now.

I had to fight it—at any cost.

Through the blur of heat and smoke, my eyes caught movement. Him.

He was there—stepping through the balcony, cutting through the wall of fire as though it were nothing. Flames licked at him, yet they bent away, refusing to touch his skin.

He ran toward me.

His expression—unreadable.

Why wasn’t he burning? Why wasn’t he falling apart like everything else around us? How could he still stand, still charge through the inferno with such unyielding power?

Why?

As he came closer, our eyes met.

Mine burned with pain, fury, and disbelief. His—calm, resolute, yet shadowed by something I couldn’t name.

Was this his doing?

Was it all part of their plan—to weaken me, to strip me of my strength, to cage me in this fragile realm?

I won’t let that happen.

Summoning the last fragments of my strength, I forced myself upright. My body screamed in protest, but I refused to yield. My hand clenched into a fist—ready to strike, to throw him back with everything I had left.

But then— his actions shattered every thought that clouded my mind.

He took off his long upper garment and threw it around me. The burning wind stilled. My wings—wild and uncontrollable just moments before—sank into stillness beneath the heavy folds of the fabric. The fire that had consumed me… quieted.

He wrapped me in it completely, shielding me from the flames, and then—without hesitation—lifted me into his arms.

I froze.

Never… never had I been this close to him. His heartbeat echoed faintly against mine, steady amid the chaos. His scent—earth and ash and something impossibly human—filled my senses.

He didn’t speak.

Just looked at me once—briefly, intently—and then turned toward the chamber doors. They opened on their own, groaning under unseen force.

He carried me out as the fire behind us roared with its final fury. The humans outside were already in chaos—guards shouting, rushing for water, their faces pale in the firelight.

And I… I remained in his arms.

Where was he taking me?

Had he truly saved me?

Without me asking?

How could someone do that—for another—without reason… without gain?

He walked across the vast hall, his footsteps echoing against the marble. At the end, he halted before a tall, carved door.

It opened on its own.

He stepped inside, carrying me still, and as the door closed behind us, silence fell. He placed me gently upon the bed. The garment he had wrapped around me slipped down my shoulders. My wings, no longer contained, unfurled again—ragged, scorched.

The sight of them struck me like a blade.

I had endured torment, sacrifice, and countless trials to earn these wings—and now they burned like dying embers before my eyes.

“You did it… didn’t you?” I hissed, fury rising in my throat.

He said nothing. Only stood there—still, silent—watching me.

That silence ignited me further.

Rage surged. I lunged forward, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him against the wall. His body hit it hard, then crumpled to the floor.

But the storm inside me refused to calm.

I flew upward, seized him again, and pinned him to the ceiling. My grip tightened around his neck. The air around us trembled.

“What do you think?” I spat, my voice trembling with fury. “You’ll burn my wings to weaken me? You’re wrong—pitiful human! Even scorched, they still carry enough power to erase you and everything you own with a single strike. Don’t you dare underestimate me. Etch that into your fragile mind.”

With a cry, I threw him down. His body crashed against the marble floor, and for a moment—a brief, cruel moment—his fall gave me peace.

I landed near him, wings blazing faintly in the dim light.

“You’d better remember your place,” I shouted. “Stay out of my affairs if you value your life.”

I stared straight into his eyes—unyielding, unflinching.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Now tell me—what have you and your kind planned against me? What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here—to this Earth?”

My voice cracked, fury giving way to anguish.

“I told you to find Chiryut Mahal! So what is this place you’ve trapped me in? What kind of cage is this?”

The walls seemed to close in around my words.

“I’m warning you,” I said, my voice lowering but sharp as steel. “You don’t know me. I am far more dangerous—far more powerful—than your mind could ever comprehend. Whatever you’re planning, stop it. You will gain nothing from me.”

The last words tore through the air, echoing between us. I glared down at him—fire still in my veins—while he simply stood there, unmoving.

No fear. No defense. No explanation.

Just that same unreadable calm, his eyes locked on mine.

“This is Chiryut Mahal,” came his answer—calm, certain.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You think I’m a fool?” I snapped. “You humans will surely drive me mad. What torture you all are.”

He remained composed, though his eyes—those eyes—spoke something louder, something I couldn’t quite hear. I stood firm, refusing to let his silence weigh me down.

“I thought you were an angel,” he said at last, his voice low and deep—so deep it could send shivers down even a god’s spine. “But your wings… they’re black. Like a devil’s. So tell me—what are you? And how do you know about Chiryut Mahal?”

“Angel?” I gave a hollow laugh. “You really think so? Have you ever even seen an angel?”

I took a step closer, my eyes locked on his. “Yes, my wings are black—but I’m neither an angel nor a devil. What will you do then? Cage me?” My voice curled into a mockery. “Tell me, what do you know about Chiryut Mahal?”

“This is Chiryut Mahal,” he said evenly. “It’s my home. My palace. My mother named it—Chiryut Mahal.”

His words struck me like lightning.

“This is not Chiryut Mahal,” I shot back, my tone rising. “My Chiryut Mahal is my home—my palace. And it was my god mother who named it so. Understood?”

We stared at each other, unyielding—two storms locked in silence.

“Unless you tell me who you truly are,” he said finally, “I’m not letting you escape from here.”

At last, I thought, he speaks of what he truly wants.

Humans—always pretending, always circling the truth until it suits them.

Meanest creatures alive, I thought bitterly. Double-faced and blind.

I crossed my arms, studying him. “Why do you have black weapons?” I asked coldly. “How did you come to possess them?”

He exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders loosening. His gaze dropped for the first time.

Then he closed his eyes… and sat at the edge of the bed, as though the weight of something unseen pressed down upon him.

“I too sacrificed much to gain those black weapons,” he said quietly, eyes lowered. “Just as you did for your wings.”

His voice carried weariness—not weakness, but the exhaustion of someone who had burned through lifetimes.

“It wasn’t easy,” he continued. “And I know… you understand that.”

He drew in a deep breath, his words falling heavy into the silence between us.

“I had no choice but to claim them. The black weapons… they’re the most dangerous creations ever forged. Whoever possesses them can control—or destroy—anything. But they are not eternal. Once their master’s purpose is fulfilled, they destroy themselves. They serve only their first master, and when the purpose is complete, they turn to ash. Even if one weapon fulfills its destiny, the rest follow—bound by the same curse.”

He paused, his eyes darkening.

“It’s not strength they seek. Not power. They choose the one who understands them—every detail, every limit, every shadow they hold. They do not serve at random.”

He gave a faint, bitter smile. “Only I know how I earned them. Every inch of my being shattered in the process.”

His hands tightened.

“After killing Lobh, I thought it was over—that my vengeance was fulfilled. But the weapons… they remained. I don’t know what disaster still lingers, what fate is left to play. But…” His voice softened, almost hesitant. “I wish not to fight you. I pray you aren’t a devil.”

“I’m not a devil,” I said quietly. My voice carried none of the fury from before—only truth. “But I can’t reveal my identity. If I do, I’ll vanish… and I can’t afford that.”

The rage that once burned in me had gone still—buried under the weight of his words.

I walked away and sank onto the couch. The room was vast and silent, yet it felt small—too small for all that remained unsaid.

He sat at the edge of the bed, and I on the couch across from him. Neither spoke.

No questions. No accusations.

Just two souls—scarred, powerful, and tired—sharing the same silence.

I was lost in my thoughts. Perhaps… so was he.

So there’s no chance—no matter how hard I try.

Those weapons have already chosen their master.

And it’s him.

All my plans, every strategy I crafted, every sacrifice I made—

all of it feels wasted.

My mind went numb, and disappointment settled like a storm in my chest.

Now I can’t do anything—

nothing special, nothing extraordinary in my reign.

I closed my eyes.

I was late.

Too late to make those weapons mine.

Defeated… without even fighting.

Then his voice broke the silence.

Calm. Sudden. Steady.

“Will you marry me?”

My eyes snapped open. I turned toward him, unsure if I’d heard right.

Marriage?

What’s that supposed to mean?

He looked at me, unshaken, his expression unreadable.

“Everything I own will be yours,” he said, his tone soft yet absolute. “Forever.”