The Hero Given to the Demon Queen

Elara sat in silence for a long time after Alvia finished speaking.

Then, slowly, she leaned sideways and rested her head against Alvia’s shoulder. Her voice was quiet, almost thoughtful.

“So… I did those things.”

Alvia stiffened slightly. “You still don’t believe me, do you? I’m serious, Elara. It really happened.”

“I believe you.”

Alvia pulled back to look at her. “How can you just… believe it? Did you even hear what I described?”

Elara remained where she was, eyes half-lidded, exhausted.

“What do you want me to do? Tear myself apart? Scream and shout and ask how this is possible?”

Alvia stood up so abruptly the chair scraped.

“You killed an innocent man out there! No—killing isn’t even the right word. You tortured him. You took the Archangel’s wings while she screamed—”

“I know.”

“Are you even listening to me?!”

Elara’s voice stayed calm, but it carried a weight that made the room feel smaller.

“I hear you perfectly clearly. But you need to understand something. The Archangel burned my father alive in front of me. My own mother sold me. The Demon Queen and her people tried to break me over and over. My own kind branded me a heretic and a whore and tried to burn both of us. I prayed to the Goddess in that citadel—again and again and again. She never answered. The Demon Queen told me the truth about the Goddess many times. I chose not to believe her. Looking back now… she was completely right.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks even as she spoke. Her voice began to catch.

“I still fought. I still protected myself. Nyx tried to force herself on me more than once and failed. Sometimes… when I saw the things happening around me… I had no choice but to see Lilith as the lesser evil. Sometimes I—” her breath hitched, “—sometimes I felt safe beside her. Sometimes, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself, I thought about just… giving in. I was fighting for my family while my mother came all the way to the demon citadel to ask me to get pregnant and give her a grandchild from Lilith. I told myself nothing could be worse than that. Then I escaped and saw the lower dungeons. What they were doing to the other humans. That was when I realized how lucky I had been. I had a fine room. I was under Lilith’s protection.”

She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming.

“The wounds they opened in me are so deep you can’t even imagine them. So what I did out there… it doesn’t mean anything to me. Whatever this power inside me is—I accept it. Completely. Good or bad. It doesn’t matter.”

Alvia stood frozen. Then her legs seemed to give out and she sank back onto the chair beside Elara. Tears filled her own eyes.

“What about my sister?” she whispered. “You saw her in those dungeons, didn’t you?”

Elara’s gaze dropped.

“Yes. But I will never tell you the details. I can’t.”

Alvia’s voice broke. “Is she dead?”

“Most likely.”

A heavy silence settled. Elara reached out and took Alvia’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

She drew a shaky breath and straightened a little, wiping her face more firmly this time.

“It’s getting late. We should rest. Come on. Stop crying. Follow me.”

She led Alvia to the small bathing room at the back of the house. An old copper tub stood against the wall, already half-filled with water from the pump. Elara gestured.

“Use your water magic. Let’s clean up. Then we can sleep and figure everything out in the morning.”

Alvia, still sniffling, obeyed. Clear water rose and filled the tub. She added a pinch of the old cleansing herbs that still hung in a bundle near the window; the water took on a faint, clean scent.

“All right. You go first. I’ll wait—”

Elara closed the door with a soft click.

“The water’s freezing. I’ll turn to ice if I get in alone. It’s better if we go together.”

Alvia’s tear-stained face went scarlet.

“What—what are you talking about? No. Absolutely not.”

Elara was already pulling her torn tunic over her head. Alvia’s eyes widened; she made a strangled sound and spun halfway around, then peeked back despite herself.

“Y-you—you’re—you’re naked in front of me!”

Elara stepped into the tub and immediately hissed.

“Ahh—it’s freezing! Hurry up and get in.”

Alvia stood frozen for several more seconds, then muttered something under her breath, turned her back, and undressed with quick, jerky movements. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she climbed in. Even sitting, her height meant the water only reached the middle of her ribs; she hunched forward, clearly trying to make herself smaller.

A short, awkward silence filled the steamy room.

Elara held out a rough washing cloth.

“Here. Scrub my back. Everything hurts. I feel like one giant bruise.”

Alvia’s voice came out high and thin. “O-okay…”

She took the cloth and began to move it carefully over Elara’s shoulders and spine. Her hands were gentle, almost hesitant. When the cloth drifted a little too low toward the curve of Elara’s waist, Alvia yanked it back up as if burned.

“…Can I ask you something?” she said quietly.

“Go ahead.”

“It might make you angry.”

“Then don’t ask.”

Alvia let out a tiny, frustrated breath. “What kind of logic is that? Anyway… did you… do these things a lot?”

Elara frowned without turning. “What things?”

“These things. Bathing together. You said you were abused many times, so I thought…”

Elara turned so quickly that water splashed. Her eyes were sharp.

“No. It wasn’t like whatever you’re imagining. I resisted. I never gave them what they wanted. I—I—I refused.”

She turned back around just as quickly. Alvia’s shoulders sagged with visible relief.

“…Okay.”

Elara held the cloth out behind her again.

“Your turn. Turn around. I’ll do your back.”

“Ah—all right.”

Alvia turned. Elara began to scrub in firm, practical strokes. Alvia’s ears and the back of her neck flushed a deep red. Her breathing grew uneven. At one point her hand twitched as if she wanted to scratch an itch she couldn’t reach, and she bit her lip.

“Th-that’s enough—really—”

“I just started. Hold still.”

“Turn—turn around.”

Elara paused. “Where?”

Alvia made a helpless sound. “Toward me. Obviously.”

Elara turned. Their faces were closer than before. Alvia’s eyes flicked down for half a second and then locked firmly on the wall over Elara’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Elara said, voice softer. “Now wash my hair. There’s some of the cleansing mix left on the shelf. Use your water magic.”

Alvia nodded mutely. She wet Elara’s golden hair, worked the herbs through it, and began to massage her scalp. Her fingers were careful, almost reverent. Elara let out a long, low breath and closed her eyes.

“Harder. Use your nails a little. I missed feeling clean.”

Alvia obeyed. The only sounds were water and quiet breathing. After a while Alvia spoke again, voice barely above a whisper.

“Elara… what if the Archangel wakes up down there? What if she still has power?”

Elara’s eyes opened. Her tone turned cold and certain.

“She doesn’t. The Goddess stripped everything from her. She’s in worse shape than I am. I’m going to make her pay for what she did—properly.”

Alvia’s hands stilled for a moment.

“Then… how are we any different from them? We could just kill her and be done with it.”

Elara turned her head just enough to meet Alvia’s eyes.

“We are different. But when people with power start thinking they can do anything to anyone, someone has to put them in their place. Now turn around. Fill that basin. Your hair is still a mess.”

Alvia turned without argument. Elara washed the long white hair with the same practical care, fingers working through the tangles. Alvia kept her gaze fixed on the water.

“What about me?” she asked suddenly, very quietly.

“What about you?”

“I just… I don’t know. Never mind.”

Elara gave a small, tired huff.

“You’re acting strange. Anyway—we’re clean. Let’s dry off and rest. We’ll make a real plan in the morning.”

“Okay. You go first. I’ll get out after you.”

Elara stood up in one smooth motion. Water streamed down her body. Alvia’s hands flew up to cover her own eyes so fast she almost slipped.

Elara wrapped herself in a towel, glancing back once.

“Don’t stay in too long. The water’s getting cold and the air isn’t much warmer. You’ll catch a chill.”

Alvia’s voice came out muffled behind her hands.

“I-I know. You can go. Really.”

Elara left the bathing room, closing the door gently behind her.

For a long moment the only sound was Alvia’s uneven breathing and the soft drip of water from her hair into the tub.