Errant Wings (BL)

Deep in the heart of Kur'thaal stood Lilith's sanctuary, a stark contrast to the harsh gloom of the Abyss. There, the rocky terrain softened into a winding labyrinth of obsidian walls and twisted roots, where infernal flora thrived under an otherworldly glow. Strange blossoms of black and crimson opened beneath the warmth of hidden embers, and newly created creatures prowled or fluttered about, each a product of Lilith's untamed imagination.

Lilith, the first demon, sat upon a throne fashioned from living roots. She wore an air of calm detachment, content to shape the raw energies of Kur'thaal into living beings. A small, draconic pup—its scales glimmering faintly—nestled in her lap, gazing at her with wide, curious eyes. She stroked it absentmindedly, humming a gentle melody that seemed to resonate with the twisting shadows around her.

Two figures entered the sanctuary: Vael, silent and watchful, and Nethros, whose aura pulsed with pent-up frustration. Both knelt briefly before Lilith, addressing her in soft, reverent tones:

"Mother."

Lilith smiled without looking up. Her gaze remained fixed on the small beast in her arms.

"My children..." she said, her voice a soothing murmur. "Is it so urgent, that you disturb my work?"

Nethros's jaw tightened. Though he dared not show true anger toward Lilith, devotion warred with exasperation in his eyes. Vael, meanwhile, stood at a respectful distance, his body etched with glowing runes that traced the outline of his muscles.

"We have matters to discuss," Nethros finally said. "Kur'thaal is restless. If we remain idle, the angels will continue their raids unhindered."

Lilith raised an eyebrow, her smile widening as she set the draconic pup aside. "Restless? Perhaps. But the darkness moves at its own pace. I see no reason to rush."

Nethros took a measured breath, attempting to mask his irritation out of respect for Lilith. "They've slaughtered us for too long. Still you spend your days creating creatures that have no role in the coming war. Mother, can you not see what we're up against?"

Lilith's eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. "I see perfectly well. I see a realm—our realm—teeming with possibilities. Creation is never a waste. The only waste is letting fear or fury blind us to what Kur'thaal can become."

Vael shifted, his presence a quiet contrast to Nethros's bristling energy. Though he felt no single allegiance to Asphodel, neither did he burn with the same thirst for vengeance that fueled many demons. He understood the bitterness, but some part of him remembered the heavens with a strange, inescapable longing.

Nethros glanced at Vael, struggling to maintain a calm tone. "You, too, call her 'Mother.' Have you nothing to say about how the angels treat us?"

Vael's red eyes flickered as he answered gently, "I know their power firsthand. They see demons as a plague. Yet, I also know that blind retribution may only feed their conviction."

Lilith observed the exchange with a curious gleam. Her posture softened when her gaze fell upon Vael. Though she regarded Nethros with the fondness of a parent, she held a unique empathy for Vael—someone who, like her, had once belonged to Asphodel but chose the Abyss for reasons only they truly understood.

"My dear Vael," Lilith said softly, "you understand more than most. Having seen the heavenly realm yourself, you know what drives them—and what might break them."

She stood, brushing back the twisted roots of her throne as she approached Vael and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "It's why I trust you, perhaps more than any other, to find the right path for Kur'thaal. We must defend what is ours, but we need not reduce ourselves to the same cruelty."

Nethros's eyes flickered with frustration, but not toward Lilith—more toward himself for feeling overshadowed. His voice was tense but respectful. "Mother... we cannot endure endless slaughter. We need a plan."

Lilith nodded, half-listening, as she conjured a faint swirl of darkness in her palm, shaping it into the beginnings of another new life—an avian silhouette with wings that shimmered faintly. "Patience, my child. In time, you will have your war, if war is what you seek. But do not mistake my calm for complacency. I see the tides changing."

A silent beat passed among them. Vael wondered if Lilith truly comprehended the inevitability of the coming conflict. Nethros masked his frustration, unwilling to press the matter further with the one he adored above all else. And Lilith, serene yet enigmatic, turned her attention back to the creature she was shaping.

"All in due time," Lilith said, her tone as mellow as a lullaby. "The Abyss has waited centuries—it can wait a little longer. And when we strike, the angels will learn there is more to Kur'thaal than the darkness they so easily condemn."

A hush settled over the sanctuary, broken only by the soft cooing of Lilith's newest creation. The three figures stood there—Mother and her children—each bound by devotion yet pulled by different desires. The forging of destinies had already begun.