Errant Wings (BL)

The sanctum breathed.

The very walls, woven from obsidian roots, shifted with slow, measured movements, as though pulsing in rhythm with some unseen force. The deeper one ventured into Lilith's domain, the more the air changed—thickened, twisted, felt less like the Abyss and more like something else entirely.

It was a place that made even demons uneasy.

And tonight, both Nethros and Vael stood in its depths.

Nethros was not a man known for patience.

His massive form loomed in the dim light, arms crossed over his chest, his infernal wings barely fitting in the arched chamber. His battle axe rested at his side, its jagged edge glowing with residual heat. His expression was as sharp as the weapon itself.

Vael stood beside him, more composed, but equally tense. His arms rested loosely at his sides, but his fingers twitched—his runes restless, shifting with quiet unease.

Neither of them spoke at first.

Because Lilith had not yet acknowledged them.

She sat at the far end of the chamber, her figure bathed in the faint golden glow of the Abyss's heart, her long, midnight hair spilling over her shoulders as she crafted something unseen between her fingers.

Nethros exhaled sharply.

"Mother," he rumbled, his voice laced with strained impatience.

Lilith hummed, but did not look up.

"You are impatient, my son."

Nethros's jaw tightened. "We have waited long enough. You promised us an answer."

Vael said nothing, but his crimson eyes flickered toward Lilith carefully. He had expected her to resist giving a direct answer. She always did.

But tonight, there was something different.

Something… unsettling.

Lilith's fingers moved with delicate precision, weaving unseen threads of magic into the empty air. Whatever she was making, it did not yet exist—but its presence was already felt.

"Why do you seek answers you are not yet prepared to receive?" she asked idly, as if the conversation were nothing more than a passing thought.

Nethros's wings flared slightly, his molten eyes narrowing.

"You have been working on something—" he gestured around the chamber, to the trembling walls, the shifting air, the way even the Abyss seemed to listen when she spoke.

"Something powerful. Something unlike anything Kur'thaal has ever seen."

Lilith finally lifted her gaze.

"Yes."

Vael's breath was slow, measured. "Then tell us. What is it? What are you creating?"

Lilith studied him, her golden eyes tracing the runic marks along his body, the tension in his jaw. Then, just as slowly, her gaze flickered to Nethros.

"You are not ready."

Nethros's wings snapped open in frustration. "You think we are weak? That we cannot handle whatever it is you're crafting? We are the ones fighting this war! You sit here, creating monsters in the dark, and expect us to follow blindly?"

Lilith's lips curled slightly.

"Oh, my dear child. This is not a monster."

The air in the room shivered.

Vael inhaled slowly.

There was something in her voice.

Something more dangerous than any weapon Nethros could forge.

Nethros clenched his fists. "Then what is it?"

Lilith tilted her head, tapping a delicate claw against her chin.

Then, she smiled.

"A future."

Silence.

Nethros's expression darkened. His grip tightened around his axe, frustration simmering beneath his skin. But even he knew pressing Lilith further would be pointless.

She had decided.

She would not tell them—not yet.

Vael had been lost in thought.

Lilith's words swam in his mind, turning over in strange, tangled shapes. She was creating something greater than a monster. A future.

But why did that make him feel uneasy?

And why, when his thoughts shifted, when his mind wandered to a pair of silver eyes framed in celestial light, did his chest feel… tight?

It was only for a second.

Barely noticeable.

But Lilith noticed.

Her golden eyes flickered toward him, her gaze lingering, sharp and knowing.

And then—she saw it.

Vael didn't notice at first.

Didn't realize that the shifting tendrils of his aura had begun to change.

That amidst the restless flickers of indigo and crimson, a new color had surfaced.

Pale pink orbs.

Soft, gentle, flickering like dying embers.

Lilith's lips parted slightly.

Then, in a tone as soft as silk, she said, "How interesting."

Vael snapped out of his thoughts, his runes pulsing sharply.

His head lifted, eyes narrowing. "What?"

Lilith leaned forward, resting her chin against her knuckles.

For the first time, her gaze was fully on him.

And he didn't like it.

Because Lilith never looked at anything without a reason.

Never noticed something unless it mattered.

And right now—she was looking at him like she had just found a crack in an unbreakable wall.

She smiled slowly.

"Your aura."

Vael blinked.

Then, he saw it.

His body tensed. The pale pink glow was still there.

It vanished the moment he focused on it. But for that brief moment, it had been real.

Something inside him twisted.

Nethros frowned, glancing between them. "What's wrong?"

Lilith simply smiled.

And Vael, for the first time in centuries, felt truly afraid.

Because he did not know what was happening to him.

And worse—Lilith did.