To host her Grievous Lady was an honor that spurred the sun and moon into competition. Her favor weighed heavy, and those who were fortunate enough to receive such an honor would hold prestige, their names held in high regard and shown the respect and veneration that comes with Her Lady's acknowledgment.
Which meant that the council would be held in a manor fit to the grand occasion. A socialite event, that was in actuality a rat race won by the most frenzied and ravenous of her courtiers. A tangled web of those who longed for power, decorated with lace cloths, bejeweled, expensive items, and a large, towering structure that housed the elaborately dressed social hyenas.
Lucifer silently simmered with discontent as the rolling hills diminished, opening into large primly manicured gardens, blooming with flowers anticipating her Ladyship. The structure— a word such as mansion would crudely describe such a gigantic fortress, welcomed them with large pillars framing their path, looming over them as if in silent creeping threat.
Lucius did not seem to notice. With a self-satisfied aura about him, his sly smile, which Lucifer had grown to read quite well, was announcing his thoughts clearly: At least they know who they're dealing with.
It did not take long for Lucifer to realize his main objective for the night, considering the beings they were about to meet. Power held with it something delicious, a sense he could feel as they rolled to a stop in front of the large gates of the mansion, pride.
And Lucius… He was rarely fit for human interaction. Usually, it brought along entertainment for the demon, but tonight it threatened disaster. The worst part of it was its unpredictable nature, and the dread that continued to grow as they exited the vehicle, and he watched Lucius approach the hostess, following behind the picture of elegance that was his mother.
The air grew tense as The Grievous Lady moved up the steps, her immense presence made the enormous mansion feel insignificant in her might. Holding onto her hand-painted casserole, she met face-to-face with tonight's hostesses. It was always a demon's delight, watching two powerful forces meet, with long histories spoken with the stretching silence between them, which lasted about a second before Lissandra broke the silence with a warm smile. "Greetings! My, my! What a wonderful event you have made. I knew your collaboration would bring such a lovely sight." Her kind gaze studied both ladies who bowed to her in curtsy, a chilling surgical stare of the night enveloping the ones before her. "Ah… I see Lady Lazari had a hand in setting such a bewitching stage."
…Witches were such bored beings.
Both ladies tensed at the name, though one was much faster than the other to rise from the bow, the lady clad in black and red, seemed to analyze her ladyship's company for a moment, “An eye for detail, as always, your ladyship.” Her smile was a sinister mix of hunger and bitter pride, a look Lucifer would have admired had he seen it before the fateful deals were struck. “Lazari had a hand in decoration. She is known for such baubles, afterall.”
Lissandra did not react; had she been irritated, Lucifer could not tell. He could never tell with her, anyway. Not that she was the focal point of the night, as was quickly conjured by the sudden appearance of a dark haired flurry by her side. Lucius' smile was as saccharine as his mothers', and just as void in emotion. Lissandra's unsettling warmth was only enhanced by the boy's charm, though Lucifer could not tell if it was the warmth one would feel cosying up in front of a fire, or the creeping warmth of a blaze about to envelop one's body; unaware of the raging inferno awaiting them.
But watching both in simultaneous action… was disconcerting in a twistedly interesting way.
Both ladies, white and blue, red and black, stared at the parent and child standing beside one another, their similarities must have proven quite a shock. Lucius' smile dripped with narcissistic promise, though Lucifer doubted anyone else could sense it beneath the syrup of his expression.
The hostesses of the event, star struck and speechless, were saved from their 'rudeness' by Lissandra's intervention. With pride of a mother on her child's graduation, the lilt in her voice carried in the night. “Ah, that is right. Mayla, Alera, this is…”
…That's right. Tonight the spotlight is reserved…
“Lucius Nox,” The young man moved smoothly at the que, as if unbothered by the weight of anything, dipping into a courteous bow, with a smile that would fool a siren into seeing an angel in the face of a Nox. “Mother is right, what an exquisite binary system the both of you make.”
Tonight stars an easy-going egoist.
Lucius walked a straight path of melodious destruction.
Lucifer was almost impressed. His expectations were… Well, they were the opposite of everything The Grievous meant. That is to say nothing. He expected nothing.
Lucifer anticipated a chaotic coronation of a mad monarch, filled with arrogance, fighting, wounded egos and nobility offended by the actions of somebody who's feet had never touched the ground…and yet, he stood watching in awe, resisting the need to gawk at Lucius who maneuvered the crowd like a conductor to a symphony. What he thought would be an interesting nightmarish night of revelry and disorder, was instead an anomaly. Watching Lucius interact with anyone was an anomaly. Lucifer had simply gotten desensitized to his self-centered ways; to watch him be… charming and hospitable-- It was not expected.
His tyrannical hold on the ballroom was prematurely ended when Lissandra called out to him… only after a staggering record of six infatuated vampires, two sirens turn sailors, seven dwarves with a new snow white, 1/4th of a leviathan, a herd of nightmares, and a whole bunch of miscellaneous creatures charmed by his puffery. Lucifer swore that if this boy was revealed not to be a Nox, he would be the second most charming human in history, right behind Tyriel Cain.
"Is everything to your liking, son?" Lissandra's voice was soft, the authority and manners she had at home disappeared here, in front of all those who served her. It was quite ironic. Lucius noticed the two ladies wobbling from behind her in their extravagant dresses. "I do hope that everything is just right."
For a moment his perfect expression fluctuated, the empty look behind his mask slipping through. Lucifer could tell that Lucius was beginning to grow irritated, even more so as he studied the confused glances the two ladies behind his mother were giving one another. Their eyes were reminiscent of something, red and blue respectively. Lucifer watched him curiously, as if he could see his thoughts whirring. “...Everything is. All thanks to our hostesses' ingenuity, I am sure.”
Lucifer was not sure if anyone else could hear the deflated tone of his voice.
The two gave each other another look and only when their Ladyship granted them an anticipating glance, did realization befall them.
Our first lady, red eyed and clad in a black and red dress, initiated the curtsy, "Our apologies, lord Nox," she cleared her throat, moving into a precise and deep curtsy, head bowed to the night. "I realize we were not properly introduced, a failure we apologize for. My title is Lady Solun, the current heiress of the previous Lord blessed by the Night. However in your presence, I am… Miss Alera."
It seemed that Lucius' honeyed words were running dry, or perhaps he was simply interested in something else. His gaze studied the Lady Solun in silence, which did little to ease the Hostesses' anxieties for the night.
Lucius' peculiar gaze, mixed with the unmistakable intensity in which he was studying the two hostesses of this banquet caught the eyes of many. Lady Solun, weighed heavily by the sudden hush of voices and the burning gazes that scorched her skin, stumbled forward, falling out of her graceful curtsy, which she--to her credit-- had held for quite long in the lack of acknowledgment from Lucius. Luckily, Lucifer, ever the gentleman, caught her in her fall, preventing further humiliation.
Seeing this and finally having the situation dawn on her, the second lady, blue-eyed, dressed in white and blue, curtsied awkwardly, fumbling with her dress as if having learned etiquette in the moment and never beforehand. "S-sorry, I'm uh…" The lady made the mistake of gazing up, because Lucifer's expectant stare caused her to fumble even more, forgetting her words. "Oops… I'm, uh, La–lady Luan, the recent inheritor of the blessing of… well you can— Mayla Luan, my name!"
…
In her best attempt at avoiding ego-death, she fell deeper into the maw of Lucius. Something dark and dangerous swirled within the porcelain boy's eyes. If the demon had forgotten himself, he would've delighted in sewing 'Lady' Luan's mouth shut, all for the emancipation from embarrassment. All the creatures of the night awaited Lucius' belated response, every second adding to the tension and suffocating pressure in the populated hall.
"I'd be fine with you calling me aunt,” The Lady Luan continued, stumbling into a sincere and apologetic curtsy.
The silence almost made Lucifer cringe. He watched, eagerly awaiting the criticality, the moment in which Lucius' rising irritation would become self-sustaining. Lucius inhaled deeply…
Then, disturbingly, a smile burst onto his face, “Miss Alera, Aunt Mayla! How striking you both are. I cannot be more pleased with all the both of you have put into this event. Truly, stellar. I, like anyone ought to be, am thankful.”
His words were enunciated, a clear command. And for a moment, the room stood still.
Then it exploded. His charms had certainly captivated enough to cause a chain reaction-- creatures swarmed the hostesses, gushing to their heart's—and hopefully to Lucius's— content. Quickly, in the disarray, Lucius swiftly made an escape, muttering between gritted teeth. "...Lucifer, I need a drink now to drown those disgusting words stuck in my throat."
The strawberry blond nodded along, holding his lord by the arm and moving away to the bar at his request. As they disappeared among the many clueless visitors, Lissandra peered down at the two very shell-shocked ladies.
"I'm certain you made a good impression on him," she smiled, a doting thought regarding her son fleeted past, "first impressions must be good, you wouldn't want to risk being disliked," Lissandra hummed her special tune, "especially not by tonight's new Grievous Lord."
Lucius was a supernova, a nature like that originates from somewhere. It just so happens that 'somewhere' comes directly from his mother. Panic like this has never been seen in history, because as soon as her words settled into the air, did the flood commence.
"I offer you my lasagna for tonight's ceremony."
After insisting on storing her lasagna by herself and being assisted to the kitchen, Lissandra Nox found herself entering the inner gardens of the mansion. She'd been here many times by now, regardless, the existence of this mansion likened more a castle than anything. It reminded her of Ecavell in the past, when it still stood tall. She remembered taking a stroll in Ecavell, both her and Lady Ashdown in their human manifestations. They held each other's hands as they admired the garden planted by one Tyriel Cain, and his Hell Knight, Lyrus Arheil.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
It was Rhiannon Ashdown's most beautiful story, a love letter to her best friend, Lyrus. Even now, hundreds of years later, Lady Night couldn't help but admire the story of her fellow witch. If her Ladyship had a regret today, it would be that she far outlived those closest to her, and the only lady to whom she'd bend her knee to.
"...These past nineteen years of raising our son have flown by. At speeds far quicker than light could travel from the sun to this earth." The night lamented these unhearing flowers.
Although, maybe they weren't as unhearing as she'd expected. Flowers that could hear were the signature of a long-lasting companion of hers. Lissandra could tell, the flowers she spoke to now, these golden marigolds held resentment towards her.
"The night is a lonely and melancholic existence," an interruption in her ears whispered, it took the form of a young beautiful girl, hair long, black, and wavy. "Wouldn't you say so, Grievous Lady?"
Lissandra turned around, a small smile morphing on her pink lips, "Not lonelier than vanity, wouldn't you say so? Dear Lazari?"
That lady, clad in the thorns and petals of a flower Lissandra has long since missed, smiled wide and bright. "I have me, myself, and I, lonely is the farthest existence that I am."
She wore the since-extinct peclamire, whose petals mixed in red, yellow, and blue. Lissandra knew, this meant that after 700 years of silence, the existence before her harbored hatred far more powerful than this world could currently handle.
"You remain in the past, still to this day? This one can't understand your obsession, Vain Lady."
The shorter lady neared the night, giving her a sincere curtsy before smiling wide with her perfect white teeth. "It's not every day one loses their object of affection to another witch of the trinity." Lazari laughed, a cackle which forced Lissandra to reminisce, "one who thought himself to be a knight no less."
Lissandra cackled with her, remembering just how her last life had ended, "Crimson Spicebush, wasn't it? The spell that ripped out your spine and wrung you dry until your blood formed the blossoms of a red spicebush." She curtsied in return, after all, in front of her was one of two existences closest to what she could call an equal, "It was no doubt unfortunate that your Tyriel Cain fell for someone as broken as Lyrus Arheil, but what could you do? Love is a human emotion, and emotions are the core of The Solemn."
Lazari's smile had turned bitter since Lissandra began retelling her unfortunate past, The Grievous Lady was ignoring one blatant aspect of the story, and vanity had come here to settle things. "Might I remind you, that this misfortune, stems from your interference in that story, Lady of Night?" Lazari puffed her chest, standing tall amongst the marigolds, trampling on their beauty, "Se-ven hun-dred years, I've waited for the perfect era to reincarnate, and finally, tonight, you lose it all, all the status you've held over everything."
"Ah, so you know this one's intentions of making this a ceremony?" Lissandra gleamed, "It makes one glad, you'll be a witness to this one's child, ascending, and becoming the Ruler of the Night."
In explosive anger, Lazari lifted her fingers, pointing her palm at the tall Lissandra. Both witches understood, currently, with a single intent, the strings holding back all the resentment would snap. Flooding the night with the smell of flowers and the feelings of vanity. Lissandra's existence could perish here and now.
"Is your hair black in this body, because you wish to reflect the Solemn Lady? Is your hatred that deep, for our other companion?"
Vanity stood alone in silence. Tense, among the swaying marigolds.
"...It seems, as the longest living witch, the only witch capable of eluding death through reincarnation, that your years of vanity have piled up… to this degree." Her Ladyship sighed, peering into the golden eyes of her equal, "As things stand now, this one has two things left to say in regards to this topic." Lissandra watched the night sky, starry, and dark. It was her essence, the all-encompassing part of her. "You, as a witch of our trinity, are the exclusive existence that lingers. The Nox changes ruler, once every infinity, the Arheil lives within humanity, and yet you…" Lissandra spun, facing the lady who never let her hand fall to her side, "the Rion remains in vanity, a lonely existence who watches the cruelty of God for the rest of eternity. You are loved by reality yet here you are, remaining steadfast in an unfulfilled fantasy." The night sneered upon the vain lady, her younger days reminded her that the one here was unimportant, an equal who never held the same weight as the Ruler of the Night. "Dear Lazari, this one wants you to know, that nobody is stopping you from destroying everything. As old as I am today, there is no way me nor anyone else currently alive could stop you from your revenge. Not when you're freshly reincarnated."
Lazari slowly drops her arm to her side, elation plastered on her face; "It is because of my checkmate, that I'll decide to spare you for today."
"Aha," Lissandra hummed, "you don't truly understand the connotations of tonight's ceremony."
"What of it? I'm more powerful now than ever, what difference will tomorrow's night make, when the day shines brighter?" The girl adorning a flower dress sneered at the night, "I'll destroy whoever the next Nox is, I'll transcend so that all the Arheils in the world can remain in tears, suffering in solemn silence."
"Ah… you see, this one wagers, that Lucius…" Lissandra chuckled, "Well, it's not every day that a newborn witch can make a partnership with the devil, don't you think?"
It was Lazari's turn to hum, "Oh? Are you challenging me to a bet, Grievous Lady?"
"If you may, then yes, this one challenges you to a bet, one last stroll towards Walpurgis-Night." Her Ladyship bowed her head, pushing an open hand to Lazari, waiting for her consent.
With a few seconds to think, the Vain Lady returned with a shit-eating grin, "Alright then, I'll be your last dance partner, as we stroll across a story, one, final time." Lazari grasped Lissandra's hand, pulling herself closer.
Then;
"With the night's decree;"
"With the day's decree;"
In unison, both witches danced in their rondo, not one stepped on the other's body.
"The day will never rise again."
"The night will never fall again."
"Lucifer, where's my mother?"
Lucius and Lucifer found themselves in the middle of everything for a while, never would Lucius stay out of the light for too long. At that moment, the majority of the room had already introduced themselves to him. Lucius, the ever masterful-charmer that he is, swayed any who spoke to him. With a smile and a flash of his perfectly sculpted face and teeth, any creature who held a modicum of attraction swooned for the porcelain boy. If not for his features, then his existence alone deserved reverence, after all;
What are stars without the universe that encompasses them?
Unexpectedly, Lucius forcefully dragged Lucifer away, away from those gazing stars which the porcelain boy loved to charm so much. The devil, understanding the oddity of his partner's behavior, strung himself along until they reached a quieter, much more 'adult' part of the mansion. The hallways.
Yet, despite its oddity, today was the second time it happened.
"I don't know," Lucifer answered the question after a long bout of thought. "I doubt she'd go far."
Uncharacteristically, Lucius tousled his jabot, and ran a hand through his hair, revealing those bright purples leading into his soul. "We're done with all the introductions, I'd rather leave than to have another rondo of small talk with stars."
Once earlier on, when they locked themselves in his room.
"My mother's rule has been forgotten by this galaxy—" Lucius' hand shook as he gripped tufts of his hair, "Nineteen years! They forget their manners after two short decades," although his words screamed anger, his eyes did not, "they curtsy, they bow, they smile, but when do they kneel? Lucifer, I want them all to kneel but they won't—"
The strawberry blond knew that Lucius wasn't normally bothered by something so insignificant. Rather, actually, he was bothered by something so massive, he hid himself in the vanity of the small things so as to not confront the star shining in the center of the room. But there wasn't much time left to ponder that, Lucifer stopped the hand which traveled to his partner right as the boy stopped mid-sentence. The demon turned around to see exactly what it was that washed away Lucius' rampage.
"Child," Lissandra elegantly strode towards them, almost gliding with her airy steps. "Have you finished mingling with your subjects?" Her soft eyes rested on her child and the only two who could call each other family reunited.
Rather than watching Lissandra and Lucius hug, Lucifer's attention landed on the girl trailing her Ladyship. Memories primordial to even 700 years ago flooded in, like a violent tsunami.
The girl noticed him first, waving her fingers at the devil with a sly grin. She was born from the original sin. If God introduced the night, then Lucifer was at fault for introducing vanity. By technicality, this was his daughter.
"It's nice to see you, Lady Rion." Lucifer bowed to her contentment, Lazari, ever so vain, waved him off. She peered over Lissandra's shoulder, those golden eyes spotting tonight's egoist.
Her Ladyship pulled Lucius to face Lazari, the boy's expression flared in confusion. Undoubtedly, many thoughts flashed in that head of his. Lucifer closely paid attention to the interactions of these two, it was highly intriguing to him, like a nature documentary except he was the one shooting the footage.
Lissandra held her small smile, even as the silent stare-down between her child and her equal stretched to a minute.
"...So this must be… Lucius Nox." Lazari tried again, stubborn in her own way.
Lucius, ever the prideful, continued looking just slightly over the head of the girl, as if to ignore her existence in favor of the long hallway. The way his nose flared at the slightest mention of his name didn't get past Lucifer. He knew exactly what thoughts spiraled within the boy's head.
"One believes it's best if you introduce yourself first, dear Lazari."
What wall has the name Lazari? Lucifer heard Lucius' pretend.
"Ah," she pouted, "so the child is too immature to prostrate for me." Lazari shook her head and tsked, "a shame, I guess I'll have to bite the bullet and be the adult in this situation." She sneered at the up-and-coming Nox, something that most definitely didn't escape Lucius' attention. She curtsied, the peclamires from her dress exuded their strong aroma, filling the hallway with a suspicious scent. "I'm Lazari Rion, as for now and the rest of eternity; the Vain Lady, Ruler of the Day, and the most beautiful being in the world."
If the Nox ruled over the all-encompassing everything, then the Rion was the exact opposite. The Rion ruled over nothing, the unimportant 'ayin'. That is why she is vain. Her lack of rule over anything has gotten to the point where reality is convinced that she means something. That's what Lucius read from his mother's book.
In his eyes, that meant only one thing;
Nothing.
Silently, Lucius spun around.
There were three ways Lucifer saw how this could go. One where Lucius saw her and they bantered, another where Lucius was polite enough to see her as an equal and return the formalities. The last was… this. Where Lucius fails to see someone whose entire purpose lacks meaning.
In the hallways of the Solun mansion, prior to the banquet ceremony, two major things happened.
Firstly, Lady Nox walked hand in hand with her son and his partner towards the brimming great hall.
Secondly, Lucius Nox, the most important person in the world, left the hall with disappointment. Lucifer was amazed, he knew of the fate his partner had, his soul was greater than any he had met with before. But here he was, before gaining even an ounce of the power he was promised.
Here he was, upending the fine balance held for thousands of years. This Lucius Nox was special even amongst the other Grievous Lords, for a simple, evident reason;
He had no equal.
