DIVINE RUIN: Claimed By A God

There was a time when gods, demons, and witches lived in harmony.

The gods ruled the heavens, radiant and untouchable. Demons thrived in the shadows, wild but bound by divine law. Witches walked between them, weaving magic that kept the balance intact. The gods were, however , superior among these breeds.

From the beginning of time, the witches and demons roamed the world in darkness for so long. There was no atom of joy in their zone. All was dark and still.

The gods who had joy in their divine nature opened up their realm, brought light upon the zones of each breed and gave them powers to operate in their zones. The gods brought happiness and peace among them.

They lived peacefully, with each breed balancing the law of nature from their zones.

Once the world was whole.The gods ruled from their golden thrones, eternal and untouchable. Demons, fierce and proud, were their enforcers, carrying out divine will. Witches, gifted with magic, were the keepers of knowledge, the bridge between realms.

But power breeds resentment. And resentment breeds war.

For centuries, the witches and demons had lived under the gods' rule, bending to their laws, fearing their wrath. But whispers began to spread. Why should the gods hold all the power? Why should they command the world while witches and demons knelt at their feet?

And so, in the shadows, a plan was formed.

The witches, with their ancient spells, would unravel the gods' celestial bonds. The demons, with their strength, would storm the heavens and take the thrones for themselves. Together, they would end the gods' reign and carve a new world, one where they were the rulers.

It was a perfect plan. Until the demons betrayed them.

The moment the witches shattered the first divine seal, the demons turned on their allies. Instead of storming the heavens, they struck down the witches, seizing the power for themselves. The witches, betrayed and outnumbered, were left defenseless as the gods awoke to their treachery.

The heavens shook with fury.

Lightning split the sky. The ground burned as the gods descended, their wrath unlike anything the world had seen. The demons, believing they could take the gods' power alone, fought with all their might-but the gods were never meant to be overthrown.

The war lasted only a day.

By nightfall, the gods had cast down their judgment.

"For your betrayal," they thundered, "you are unworthy of this privilege."

With a single decree, the realms were shattered. The gods, in their fury, banished the demons to the underworld, sealing them away in eternal darkness. The witches, though they had been betrayed, were deemed just as guilty-for they, too, had dared to defy the divine. Stripped of their place , they were cast to the mortal realm, exiled and broken. The gods didn't take their powers from them. And just as in the beginning, they went back to darkness.

From that day forward, witches and demons became enemies.

The witches never forgave the demons for their treachery. The demons never forgave the witches for their weakness. And the gods? They turned their backs on them all, retreating into the heavens, vowing never again to interfere with the lesser beings who had dared to challenge them.

The world had been torn apart.

Months later, the Demon and Witches clan made an agreement to divide territories to avoid one breed crossing each other's boundaries. Since the gods had cast them all out, demons had claimed the wastelands, witches had scattered across the mortal realm, and neither side had any intention of coexisting peacefully.

The war ended, but the hatred remained.

On the set day, each breed sent out their own representatives. Lilith had been sent to this forsaken land as a representative of the witches, ordered to negotiate the division of territory.

Lilith De Aurora is a striking and powerful witch, born from a long line of enchantresses. She has long, midnight-black hair that cascades in waves down her back, with piercing emerald eyes that glow faintly when she channels her magic. Her presence is both regal and untamed, marked by an air of quiet defiance.

She wears flowing robes woven with protective spells, the fabric shimmering with hidden enchantments. A silver sigil, the mark of her lineage, rests against her collarbone. Though she possesses immense magical talent, she relies as much on her sharp wit and unwavering resolve as she does on her power.

She arrived at the place, and was waiting for the representative of the demons. She was fuming, wondering why the arrogant demon has not yet arrived.

And then he did.

Immediately Lilith caught a glance of him, she knew he was dangerous. He emerged from the shadows like he belonged to them, his towering form effortlessly blending with the darkness. His presence was suffocating-power coiled around him like a living thing, crackling with an energy that sent shivers down Lilith's spine.

She had grown up fearing demons, taught that their kind was cruel, ruthless, and incapable of honor. But as she stood on the edge of the charred battlefield, staring into the burning crimson eyes of Daemon, she realized something her elders had never told her-demons were also beautiful.

Daemon Varkiel is a formidable demon, tall and imposing with a commanding presence that seems to darken the air around him. His eyes burn with a crimson glow, like embers in the night, reflecting a deep well of ancient power and unspoken fury. His jet-black hair is wild and unruly, contrasting sharply with the obsidian armor he wears-etched with demonic runes that pulse with energy.

Every movement he makes is deliberate, exuding an undeniable authority. Daemon is a creature of pure strength and raw charisma, ruthless in battle and fearless in his pursuit of power. Yet beneath the harsh exterior, there's a brooding complexity-a soul torn between loyalty, vengeance, and an unspoken longing.

Though he is a demon through and through, Daemon's pride is not solely in his strength but in his mind. He is cunning, strategic, and capable of wielding his words as dangerously as his weapons. And despite his coldness, there's a part of him that remains captivated by the unexpected.

He was watching her. Measuring her.

And then, he smirked.

"So, this is the High Enchantress of the witches," Daemon drawled, his voice like smoke and embers. "I expected someone... older. More fragile."

Lilith lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. "And I expected someone less arrogant."

His smirk widened. "Then we are both disappointed."

Lilith clenched her fists, magic humming beneath her skin. She had been warned not to provoke him, but standing before him now, she realized how impossible that was. Daemon radiated a presence that demanded defiance.

"We are here to discuss the division of land," she reminded him coolly. "Not trade insults."

Daemon took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "Oh, but I enjoy both."

Lilith did not move back. She would not show weakness. Not to him.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said.

Daemon leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. "Then you're a fool."

"I don't have time for games," she said coldly. "If you don't have what I need, I'll find someone else."

Daemon tilted his head, studying her. "Bold." His gaze dropped to the dagger at her hip. "Do you plan to use that on me"

"If you waste my time," she said, matching his smirk, "you'll find out."

Another chuckle. "I like you already."

He stepped even closer, the air shifting with the heat of his presence. Lilith refused to move back. She had come here for a reason-to trade, to learn, to take the first step toward something forbidden.

But she hadn't expected this.

Hadn't expected him.

Something passed between them then-something dangerous. A spark, a challenge, a pull that neither of them had expected. The world had cast them into opposing sides, demanded that they remain enemies.

But fate had other plans.

And this was only the beginning.

And as the night stretched on, as their deal was struck, as her fate intertwined with his, Lilith knew one thing for certain - She was attracted to

this annoying, proud and arrogant demon.

Daemon led the way out of the ruins, the cool night air wrapping around them as they stepped onto a narrow path lit only by moonlight. For a few moments, the silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Then Daemon broke it.

"Come, Lilith. Let's walk."

Lilith hesitated, her eyes scanning the darkened trail.

"A walk? After our deal, you suddenly want a stroll? What are you after, Daemon?"

Daemon's steps were measured, his gaze fixed on the path ahead but his voice carrying a weight of earnest curiosity.

"I find silence a dangerous cloak for secrets. I want to understand you better-the witch behind those guarded eyes."

Lilith's fingers tightened around the strap of her spell bag as she said, "You speak of secrets as if they're trinkets to be shared. Trust isn't given freely to demons, you know."

A half-smile played on Daemon's lips, but his tone remained soft yet probing.

"And yet, here we are, bound by necessity. I'm not asking for all at once. Just... a few steps side by side. Let the night decide what truths may surface."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, each step echoing in the stillness. The air was cool, and every now and then, the distant hoot of an owl punctuated the quiet. Finally, Daemon spoke again.

"You carry a power within you, Lilith-one that I have rarely seen. It isn't merely in your spells, but in your very soul. I wonder, have you ever wondered why you must hide it?"

Lilith's gaze dropped to the ancient runes on her bag, her voice low.

"That power is both my legacy and my burden. It keeps me safe and, at times, isolates me. I share it only when I have no choice."

Daemon slowed his pace, turning to face her. His eyes, glowing softly in the dark, searched hers.

"Then let this walk be our first choice-a step toward revealing what lies beneath our facades. I don't seek to steal your secrets, Lilith, but perhaps we can find strength in sharing a little of our truth."

A charged pause hung in the air as Lilith regarded him. Her tone was cautious yet laced with a spark of curiosity. "And what do you want in return, Daemon? Why risk all that vulnerability with me?"

Daemon's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Because, despite the danger, I feel drawn to you. Not just the magic you wield, but the resilience behind your guarded eyes. I want to know the woman who dares to defy her destiny-even if that means treading on treacherous ground."

Lilith's heart pounded as she weighed his words. The tension between them crackled like distant thunder. "Be warned, demon. I have learned to protect my heart as fiercely as my spells. Betray it, and you may find yourself facing a power you cannot control."

Daemon's smile was a mix of challenge and promise."And if you choose to trust me, even in small measures, perhaps we can both find something worth fighting for-beyond the confines of fate and old grudges."

For a long moment, neither spoke. The night held its breath as their unspoken promises mingled with the cool breeze. Finally, Lilith nodded slowly.

"Then let's walk, Daemon. One step at a time."

As they continued down the shadowed path, each step felt like a tentative dance-a slow, dangerous waltz between trust and betrayal, hope and uncertainty. And in that fragile balance, something new began to take shape.

........

The silence deepened and the cool night pressed in, the moonlight revealed more of the ancient ruins. Shadows danced along broken pillars, lending the space an otherworldly quality that made every whispered word seem charged with magic. Lilith's thoughts wandered back to the satchel at her side-a spell bag she'd carried since she first learned the secrets of her craft. Its worn leather was etched with ancient runes that pulsed with a soft, mysterious glow, a secret library of forbidden incantations and protective charms.

For so long, that bag had been her most guarded possession-a legacy of her ancestors and a burden of power. It was never meant to be shared, especially with a demon. Yet, as she looked into Daemon's molten eyes, she sensed something different. His expression held not the cruelty of his kind, but a quiet curiosity, a longing to understand the magic that defined her world.

"You hide much more than your doubts tonight, Lilith," Daemon said softly, stepping closer until the space between them nearly vanished. His voice was gentle, laced with a sincerity that belied his demonic nature. "I sense the pulse of ancient power within you. Why keep it locked away?"

Her heart pounded, and for a long moment, she hesitated. The spell bag was not only a tool-it was the repository of her identity, the culmination of generations of witchcraft. But the tension in his tone, the unspoken promise that maybe, just maybe, their fates were entwined for a purpose beyond mere survival, coaxed a fragile trust from within her.

Slowly, as if surrendering to the inevitable pull between them, she let her fingers brush the smooth surface of the bag. "This," she murmured, her voice a blend of resolve and vulnerability, "contains every secret I have inherited-incantations, spells, and the wisdom of my foremothers. It is not meant for demons. Yet, I see that you seek more than conquest... you seek understanding."

Daemon's golden eyes softened, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Perhaps," he replied, "together, we can unlock a power that neither gods nor fate ever imagined. Let me see what lies within, not to claim it, but to learn alongside you."

The first rule Lilith had been taught as a child was simple: never trust a demon.

And yet, here she was, standing too close to one in the dim glow of twilight, his golden eyes watching her with something between amusement and calculation.

She should leave. She should turn her back and disappear into the night, before this uneasy alliance became something else-something dangerous. But Daemon had a way of making the air around him feel heavier, charged with a presence that made walking away seem impossible.

"You hesitate," he murmured, tilting his head as if he could hear the thoughts twisting in her mind. "Regretting our little arrangement?"

Lilith's fingers tightened around the strap of the satchel at her side. Inside it, spells written in ink that only witches could read-a knowledge that no demon should possess. And yet, she had agreed to share them. A trade. A gamble. A mistake, perhaps.

"I don't regret anything," she said, her voice steady. "Do you?"

Daemon's smirk was lazy, but his eyes were sharp. "Regret? No. I don't waste time on things that don't serve me."

"Good," she said, though she wasn't sure if she meant it.

Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and old stone, a reminder that they weren't supposed to be here-alone, in the ruins of a temple long forgotten. But it was the only place where witches and demons could meet without eyes watching, without judgment pressing down on them like a weight neither of them wanted to carry.

She turned away first, moving toward the broken columns where the remnants of a spell circle lay etched into the ground. Her pulse quickened as she knelt beside it, tracing the carvings with careful fingers. "This magic is older than both of us," she murmured. "Older than the war."

Daemon crouched beside her, too close. His presence was heat against her skin. "And yet, here we are. Two creatures born from that war, standing over something that was meant to outlive us all."

His voice was quieter now, devoid of its usual teasing edge. Lilith dared to glance at him, and for the first time, she saw something unguarded in his expression-just a flicker, gone before she could name it.

She looked away. "You act like you don't care about the past."

"I don't," he said. "But you do."

Lilith exhaled sharply. "And why does that matter to you?"

Daemon's lips quirked at the corner. "Because, little witch, you fascinate me."

She didn't allow herself to react. Didn't allow herself to acknowledge the way his words sent an unwelcome warmth through her chest. Instead, she pushed herself to her feet, brushing dust from her palms.

"This was a mistake," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Perhaps." Daemon rose as well, unbothered. "But that won't stop you from coming back."

Lilith didn't deny it. She couldn't. Because, despite everything, she knew he was right.

She would return.

And that terrified her more than anything else.