Isabella hurried through the golden halls of Elysium, the rhythmic clicking of her sandals echoing against the marble floors. Anxiety twisted deep in her chest, mingling with the excitement that tomorrow would finally mark her eighteenth birthday. The day she could openly announce her love for Eiden to her father. But fear gnawed at her resolve, and she desperately needed Elijah's comforting advice.
She finally found Elijah alone in the gardens, a quiet shadow beneath a tree, reading scrolls with an intensity that shielded him from the world.
"Elijah," she called softly, her voice trembling with vulnerability.
His body stiffened at her voice, and he carefully lowered the scroll. "Princess Isabella," he greeted formally, avoiding her gaze.
"Stop that." She stepped closer. "You haven't called me that in years. Why have you been avoiding me?"
"I've been busy," he murmured, voice distant and cold.
She knelt beside him, pleading in her voice. "Elijah, please… Tomorrow I'm eighteen. I want—I want to tell my father about Eiden, to ask him to approve our marriage."
Shock and pain flickered in Elijah's eyes, vanishing as swiftly as they'd come. "Have you lost your mind?" He turned abruptly, facing her with sharp anger. "You think your father—the King—will accept you marrying a human? You endanger yourself and everyone involved."
His harsh words stung her deeply, drawing anger and hurt from within. "I thought you'd understand," Isabella whispered brokenly. "You've always supported me."
"Because I thought you'd grow up eventually!" Elijah snapped, his voice raw with buried pain. "You can't possibly be this naïve."
Isabella stepped back, betrayal flashing in her gaze. "I came to you because I trusted you," she whispered, voice shaking. "But you're jealous, aren't you? You wish you had the bravery Eiden has—you're just a coward hiding behind duty and tradition."
Elijah's eyes widened, his face pale, devastation etched in every line. Before he could reply, Isabella stood abruptly, her eyes dark and unforgiving. "Our friendship is over, Elijah. I'll never come to you again."
She turned sharply, leaving him frozen, heart shattered and silenced by her cruel words.
—
In the shadowy chambers deep within Elysium, the King of Gods and his highest generals convened. Their faces illuminated only by flickering torchlight, whispers of conspiracy poisoned the air. The King's eyes gleamed dangerously, shadows of betrayal hidden within their golden depths.
"The wedding must be stopped," the King growled softly. "Isabella cannot be allowed to unite with that mortal. We all know the prophecy. This marriage will doom us all."
Low murmurs filled the chamber, and in quiet, conspiratorial whispers, their dark plans unfolded—plans that would soon shatter Isabella's world.
—
Isabella stood under the glittering arches, dressed in shimmering white silk and radiant silver that caught the sunlight like living fire. Her raven hair was adorned with delicate gems woven into intricate braids, cascading elegantly down her back. The kingdom had never seen a more beautiful bride. She smiled brilliantly, tears of joy filling her eyes as Eiden gently took her hand.
He smiled back, handsome and gentle, eyes filled with promises she yearned to believe. Around them, crowds of gods, spirits, and even select mortals clapped and cheered. Her heart swelled; finally, she'd have happiness. Her love had overcome all fears and doubts.
If only Elijah could have been here to see her. Deep inside, beneath the joy, a twinge of sadness lingered. But she pushed it aside, reveling in Eiden's presence and the promise of a new future.
—
The celebration ended late, and Isabella, exhausted but blissful, sat quietly in her chambers. Suddenly, urgent pounding echoed at her door. Alarmed, she opened to find a trembling guard.
"Princess! Forgive me—but your father…he's executing King Eiden!"
Her heart froze, blood roaring deafeningly in her ears. Eiden.
"No!" She screamed, rage and terror erupting within her. She ran without hesitation, pushing past guards and servants, heart breaking with every desperate stride toward the arena atop the kingdom.
—
Under the blood-red moonlight, Isabella stormed toward the royal colosseum where millions of soldiers and countless gods stood ready—an endless sea of enemies, shields raised, weapons glinting.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Her scream echoed like thunder, raw fury and power emanating from her body. Without slowing, she ripped through them, her power exploding in dazzling fury. Silver blades materialized from thin air, striking swiftly, ruthlessly, severing limbs and piercing hearts. Blood sprayed, staining her flawless white gown, crimson blooming against pale silk.
They swarmed her from every side, desperate to overwhelm her, but Isabella was unstoppable. Her eyes blazed, twin orbs of devastating silver fire. She moved like a hurricane of vengeance—every swing of her sword, every flick of her fingers brought death upon thousands. Bodies piled, mountains of corpses falling before her feet, yet still they came.
Every soldier who approached fell instantly, cleaved apart by her unbridled power. Gods attacked, wielding lightning and flame, frost and shadow, but Isabella's fury was stronger, annihilating their power, obliterating their divine defenses.
Her breath ragged, hair wild, Isabella surged forward, relentless, unstoppable. Tears mingled with blood, anguish fueling her strength. "EIDEN!" she screamed, her voice breaking, desperate and wild.
Finally, drenched in blood and tears, Isabella reached the steps leading up toward her father's throne—the King standing there, face twisted in cold fury. He drew his legendary blade, its golden glow clashing against her silver power.
"Stop this madness, Isabella!" His voice thundered, eyes filled with ruthless authority.
"You betrayed me," she whispered dangerously, heartbroken and livid, raising her blade.
Their clash shook the heavens. Every strike unleashed powerful shockwaves, destroying pillars and collapsing stone. She fought with blistering fury, father against daughter, king against princess. Each swing carried the agony of betrayal; each blow echoed her heartbreak.
"Why!" Isabella screamed, tears blurring her vision, silver power colliding against golden might. "I loved him! You knew it!"
"You dare question ME?" her father roared, lightning crashing from his blade. Isabella deflected, agony etched across her beautiful face.
"Because of your prophecy? You would destroy your own daughter's happiness?" Isabella's voice trembled, the pain in her heart raw and undeniable.
"You forced my hand," he hissed coldly. "You left me no choice."
With one final, shattering surge of power, Isabella pushed him away, sending him sprawling backwards. With burning lungs and bruised heart, she climbed to the highest point, desperate to find Eiden and save him.
But as she finally reached the top, her body froze, eyes widening in shock. Her sword clattered uselessly from her hand. Tears spilled uncontrollably, silent, shuddering sobs breaking her strength.
Then, without warning, a sharp agony exploded through her chest. Her eyes widened further, disbelief overtaking her pain as she stared down at the bloodied blade piercing through her body—her own sword stabbing through her heart from behind.
A single, heartbroken tear rolled slowly down her cheek.
—
In the depths of Hell, seated upon his dark throne, Raizel's eyes flew open. Crimson fury radiated from his gaze, the entire realm trembling violently with his rage. Flames roared to life, storms erupted, demons cowered in terror, and Fenrir raised his scarred head, feeling the catastrophic anger radiating from Raizel.
Raizel's fists clenched tightly, a single tear slipped silently from his burning eyes.
"They will pay…" Raizel's voice was a chilling whisper, wrathful and deadly. "Every single one of them."