The gates had crumbled before him with a mere flick of his hand, the iron warping and twisting into grotesque shapes as if pleading for mercy. The guards who rushed to stop him were no more than insects beneath his wrath, their screams cut short by tendrils of black flame that snaked out from the abyssal void trailing him.

The castle doors groaned as he entered, his steps echoing through the grand halls. His boots left streaks of ash upon the polished marble floors, a taint that no amount of scrubbing would erase. He moved with purpose, his glowing crimson eyes scanning the golden opulence of the castle.

At last, the great hall loomed before him, its towering double doors shut tight as if they could bar him from his prize. He raised his hand, and the ornate wood burst apart in a shower of splinters, sending courtiers and nobles scattering like frightened mice. The chandeliers swayed violently, their crystals chiming a panicked tune, casting fractured light across the room.

Nethrax stepped inside, his presence consuming the space like a living shadow. The courtiers dared not meet his gaze, their faces pale, their hands shaking. Only one figure stood frozen in his path: the king, your father, whose name Nethrax had long since dismissed as irrelevant. He was but a pawn in this game, a desperate man who had traded his firstborn for a few more precious years of life.

“Your time has come, old man.” Nethrax said, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the hall.

“I have been patient. Twenty years is a long time, even for me. Bring her to me.” He commanded, his voice cold as steel. The silence was broken only by hurried footsteps as a servant disappeared, returning moments later with you. Nethrax’s gaze fell upon you, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

“You.” He said, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “You are mine now.” He said, each word deliberate and final. “Your fate was sealed long before you drew your first breath. The time for defiance has passed.”