The throne room of the Aurion castle blazed with light.

Seryth stood before her assembled people, her wings spread to their full impressive span, her luminescent form radiating authority and power.

But those who knew her well, those who had served under her for decades, could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness around her eyes.

Nearly three hundred Aurion demons packed the throne room and spilled out into the corridors beyond. Warriors in gleaming armor, scholars in elegant robes, craftsmen still bearing the marks of their trades, all of them summoned by their High Commander for an emergency assembly.

The murmuring crowd fell silent as Seryth raised one hand.

"My people," she began, her voice carrying clearly through the vast space. It was strong, commanding, everything a leader's voice should be. "I have gathered you here to share news that will change everything we have known for the past four years."

She paused, letting the weight of those words sink in.

Eyes watched her with a mixture of curiosity, concern, and in some cases, suspicion. The war with the Thal'Gorin had defined their existence for so long that the idea of change was almost incomprehensible.

"The war is over," Seryth declared, and the throne room erupted.

Demons shouted questions over one another, their voices blending into a cacophony of confusion and disbelief. Some cheered, those who had lost too much and wanted nothing more than for the bloodshed to end. Others roared in anger, warriors who saw the war as their purpose, who thrived in the chaos of battle.

Seryth's light flared brighter, silencing the crowd through sheer force of presence. "The war is over," she repeated, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Not through defeat. Not through surrender. But through truth."

She gestured, and her elite guards wheeled forward a table laden with stacks upon stacks of documents. Each one glowed faintly with magical energy, runes written in demon tongue covering their surfaces.

"We have been manipulated," Seryth continued, her voice hardening. "For four years, we have been killing and dying in a conflict that was orchestrated from the beginning. The gift I sent to Vok'thar as a gesture of peace, the one that sparked this entire war, was sabotaged. The Thal'Gorin War Chief was deliberately humiliated, and both our clans were played like instruments in someone else's design."

The throne room had gone deathly quiet now. Every demon hung on her words, trying to process what she was saying.

"Pho," Seryth said, his name like a curse. "Pho orchestrated this war. He wanted us focused on killing each other while he mined Aethrium from beneath our feet. Vast deposits, far richer than anything we've fought over, existed right under this valley, and he's been harvesting them for years while we bled."

Anger rippled through the assembled demons. Pho was known to many of them, a merchant, a supplier, a very powerful demon that took whatever he wanted.

The reveal had ignited a fury that made the throne room's boom with noise.

"But there is more," Seryth said, and now her voice carried something heavier. Something like resignation. "The Soul Warden, the one who discovered this conspiracy, has been blessed by Dreknar the Black Flame himself."

That name sent a shockwave through the crowd. Demons fell to their knees instinctively, others made warding gestures, still others simply froze in place.

"Dreknar has given the Soul Warden authority over us," Seryth continued, each word carefully chosen. "Over both the Aurion and the Thal'Gorin. As proof of his divine mandate, the Soul Warden has... removed Vok'thar from power. Permanently."

The implications of that statement was like a punch to the chest.

Vok'thar, the Thal'Gorin War Chief. Was killed by this Soul Warden who claimed divine backing.

"The Soul Warden has promised peace," Seryth said. "He has sworn to kill Pho and end the manipulation that has cost us so much. But in return..." She gestured at the contracts. "He requires your loyalty."

She picked up one of the documents, holding it high so everyone could see. "These contracts will bind you to the Soul Warden. They acknowledge that he holds authority over your lives, that you owe him service, and that if he calls upon you, you must answer. They are magical bindings, unbreakable once signed."

The throne room exploded again, but this time with fear and outrage.

"You want us to enslave ourselves?" someone shouted from the crowd.

"What right does this Soul Warden have to demand such a thing?" another voice cried out.

"We fought for our freedom! We won't give it away!"

Seryth's light blazed so bright it was almost blinding, silencing the crowd once more. When she spoke, her voice carried absolute authority. But also pain.

"You will sign these contracts," she said, and there was no room for argument in her tone. "Every single demon in this city. Every warrior, every scholar, every craftsman, every child old enough to hold a pen. You will sign them because I command it. You will sign them because Dreknar's will demands it. You will sign them because the alternative is death."

She lowered the contract, her luminescent eyes sweeping across the assembled demons. "I have already signed mine. I am bound to the Soul Warden. And so will you be. This is not a request. This is not a negotiation. This is the price of peace."

The silence that followed was thick with fear and resentment. But beneath it, Seryth could also sense relief.

These demons were tired. Four years of war had ground them down, and if the cost of peace was signing a piece of paper, then perhaps that was a price worth paying.

One by one, demons began to approach the table. Some moved quickly, eager to be done with it. Others dragged their feet, their faces twisted with anger or resignation. But they all came forward.

Seryth watched them sign. Each demon pricked their finger, pressed it to the contract and watched as the magical binding flared to life before the document vanished.

Each one gasped or flinched as they felt the connection snap into place, that invisible chain linking them to Jack, to the Soul Warden who now held authority over their lives.

The process took hours. Three hundred demons, each one signing away their freedom in exchange for peace. Seryth stood watch over every single signature, her light never dimming, her presence never wavering.

But inside, where no one could see, she felt the weight of what she'd done.

She'd delivered her entire clan into servitude. She'd become a collaborator in their subjugation. And the worst part was that she couldn't even blame anyone but herself for signing first, for setting this precedent.

'Forgive me,' she thought, though she wasn't sure who she was asking forgiveness from. Her people? Her ancestors? Herself? 'But this is the only way we survive.'

By the time the last demon signed their contract and the final magical binding flared to life, dawn was breaking over the valley.

Seryth dismissed her people with a wave, watching them file out of the throne room in small groups, their conversations hushed and troubled.

When she was finally alone, Seryth sank back onto her throne. Her light dimmed to almost nothing. For the first time in four years, she allowed herself to look weak.

'What have I done?' she thought, staring at her hands. The same hands that had signed that contract, that had commanded her people to do the same.

But there were no answers.

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