Prologue
Reds, oranges and yellows danced across the skies of Lundofr, gently caressing one another, each still distinguishable. Abaddon was always awake for this because it was the only time the skies above her changed color - a signal that the sun was rising in the human world. But apart from sunrise, her sky retained a soft orange hue.
From her high vantage point, she could see the lands stretched far and wide. She could see the division of the orders: Galzar, Ralvon and Volvrak. Each order ruled by a separate daimone, but all fell under one rule, the King of Lundofr, Mephistopheles - her father. The night before he had told her he needed to meet with her in the morning. She knew it was almost time , yet she didn’t move until he sent someone to get her.
She was draped in a sleeveless yellow silk floor length dress that complemented her dark skin well. Under the light of the morning skies, her curly hair shone vibrantly, falling to her waist in flaming red waves. Her dress trailed behind her, dragging slightly on the rug that led to her father’s study. Upon reaching the door, she didn’t bother knocking before opening it.
“Father,” she greeted before taking a seat. Mephistopheles faced away from her as he stared out the window. Through the reflection, Abaddon could see he was pensive.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Abaddon didn’t know if her father felt emotions, but she knew that even if he did, he would never do it so openly. Mephistopheles often assumed a stoic expression - immovable and unbothered. He’d explained it to her once during training that emotions were like minefields - dangerous and explosive. You could either tread carefully through them, risking death, or avoid them altogether.
“A storm is coming, Abaddon,” he said after a few moments of silence.
“What kind of storm would this be?”
“One that will bring chaos and strife and leave lifeless bodies in its wake.”
“A war, then?” she asked.
“Precisely.”
I don’t understand,” she said, confused. “We’ve fought wars before father, and we are always left standing. Why do you worry now?”
“Because Little Red, this war will be unlike any we’ve ever fought. I’m not too sure we’ll come out on top this time.”
Abaddon stood and walked over to her father. “You wouldn’t be King if you couldn’t handle what comes your way. Your power is unmatched. Our power is unmatched. And you have five children who are ready to fight and will stand behind you no matter what.”
Mephistopheles finally turned to look at his daughter. She was indeed strong and had certainly surpassed his expectations for her age. Her flames burned brighter, and the heat alone could incinerate anyone who got too close. Yet it still wasn’t enough.
“How I wish that were true, Red. I really do. But there lies a power out there of a magnitude that we could never dream of achieving. And when it’s unlocked.”
He turned back to the window, chuckling lowly as he shook his head.
“God help us all.”
