The night was heavy with mist as the ancient castle of Duskspire loomed over the crimson valley. Its jagged towers reached into the heavens like claws, threatening to pierce the stars. The villagers below whispered terrified tales of the demon lord who resided within—a monster whose wrath could melt mountains and whose very presence drained hope from the land.
What they didn't know was that their stories couldn't be farther from the truth.
Arkanis leaned against the cold stone of his castle's balcony, his golden eyes glowing softly in the moonlight. He was not plotting the world's ruin as his predecessors had done. Instead, his thoughts were consumed by his latest secret act of kindness. Beneath the cover of night, he had healed the crops of a neighboring village cursed by blight. The humans wouldn't know who saved them, and he preferred it that way. They would never trust a demon, much less a demon lord.
"It's getting worse," Arkanis muttered to himself, pulling the edges of his dark cloak tighter. He glanced at his hands, which trembled faintly. Every act of kindness chipped away at his Demonic Essence, the source of his powers, leaving him weaker with each passing deed. The essence of destruction was the lifeblood of any demon lord, and once it ran dry, his enemies would descend upon him like vultures.
But what else could he do? Cruelty felt unnatural, like wearing an ill-fitting mask that stifled his very soul. Arkanis didn't want to bring pain; he wanted to bring hope.
"Arkanis!" A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Zyre, his trusted and sharp-tongued demon servant, approaching with hurried steps. Zyre's crimson horns curved like battle-axes, and his emerald eyes burned with suspicion.
"What now?" Arkanis asked, feigning indifference.
"The council has sent word," Zyre hissed, holding out a sealed scroll. "They're demanding an update on your...progress."
Arkanis took the scroll but didn't open it. The Demon Council had been relentless in their expectations. They wanted chaos. They wanted destruction. They wanted him to be like the demon lords of old.
"You'll need a response," Zyre said, his voice laced with warning. "And you can't keep avoiding the inevitable, my lord."
"I'll deal with it," Arkanis muttered, though he knew Zyre's words rang true. Every lie, every excuse he gave to the council only brought him closer to their suspicion. If they discovered his true nature, it would mean his end.
As Zyre left the room, Arkanis stared at the unopened scroll. His heart felt heavy. He hadn't yet decided how he would face the council—or the expectations of a world that demanded darkness from him.
But one thing was certain: he couldn't do it alone. Little did he know that the answer to his doubts would arrive soon, in the form of a daring hero who would shatter every assumption he'd held about humans...and himself.