"They say the one who commands the shadows rules the dead.But what they never tell you… is that the shadows command her in return."
"In the Underworld, loyalty is not given. It is taken — in blood, in silence, in fear."
"And the throne… the throne never stays empty for long."
I opened my eyes to darkness.
Not the kind that comes when you close your lids to sleep — but a darkness that breathes. It moved, curled, and whispered around me like a living thing.
My hands rested on something cold and carved, my fingertips tracing deep grooves in polished stone. I didn't remember sitting down. I didn't remember… anything.
The air was heavy, as though I had woken at the bottom of an ocean. Somewhere far above, a ceiling vaulted into shadows I couldn't see. Somewhere far below, something pulsed — a slow, deep thud that echoed faintly in my chest, as if my own heartbeat had found a twin.
Then I noticed where I was sitting.
A throne.
Black, immense, veined with silver like frozen lightning. The stone was cold, but not hostile — it settled over me like a mantle, fastening itself to my shoulders.
I should have stood. Should have demanded answers. But my body stayed still, as though the throne itself had claimed me.
Movement flickered at the edge of my vision.
They came forward one by one — not men, not women, but shapes. Tall and thin, wavering outlines made of smoke. Eyes glimmered faintly — not eyes that saw, but eyes that knew.
Shadows.
And they bowed.
The sound was like silk tearing. Every single one knelt before me.
A coldness slid through my chest — not fear, but certainty. Somehow, this felt right.
But why? Who were they? Who… was I?
"Your Majesty."
The voice came from my left — low, careful.
A man stepped forward. Pale as bone, dressed in black robes stitched with silver threads. His eyes were a sharp gray, but they never met mine directly. Even his posture was… deferential.
"I…" My throat was dry. My voice, oddly, was not weak. "Where am I?"
He hesitated. "You are in the Hall of Eternity. The court awaits your command."
"Court?" My gaze swept the shadows again. "I don't remember calling a court."
Another pause. "My Queen… the Lord is gone. The throne cannot remain empty."
I looked down at my own hands resting on the obsidian arms. The words The Lord is gone felt dangerous. It wasn't absence — it was disappearance.
The shadows whispered, curling closer, as if pleased. One brushed against my wrist — cold, but familiar. I flinched, and instantly, the entire mass of them drew back, trembling like fabric in wind.
They had responded to me.
"I don't…" The words felt foreign. "I don't know how I got here."
"You will remember, Majesty. In time. Until then, the court will guide you. But…" He glanced toward the far end of the hall. "There are… factions. The Lord's absence unsettles the balance. You must show strength."
Strength. The word rooted itself in my mind.
I rose.
The moment I stood, the temperature dropped. Shadows surged upward like waves, forming a dark corona around me. Somewhere in that moving blackness, I felt something else — a presence, warm and watchful, like a hand at the small of my back, steadying me.
Gasps came from beyond the shadows. I turned my head and saw them — the court. Dozens of figures, some human, some not, cloaked in deep colors. They watched with the same expression: waiting to see if I would falter.
I did not.
A voice — not the man's — brushed against my ear.Rule.
Not a request. Not even an order. An inevitability.
Without thinking, I lowered myself back onto the throne. The presence at my back remained for a heartbeat longer, then faded.
"Summon the council," I said. I didn't know why I gave the order — but the words fit my tongue like an old weapon in my hand.
The man bowed deeply. "At once, my Queen."
The First Council
They came quickly. The great obsidian doors swung open, and one by one they entered: nobles of the Underworld. Skin like moonlight, eyes like candle flames, dressed in silks that seemed woven from smoke. Each bowed — some low, some barely inclining their heads.
"My Queen," one of them said, voice dripping with courtesy that felt like poison. "We are honored you have taken the throne in His… regrettable absence."
I said nothing, watching him the way a hawk watches a snake.
Another stepped forward, a woman whose gaze was sharp enough to cut. "Without the Lord, the Underworld is vulnerable. Armies from the Ashen Gates stir. We must know… do you command the shadows as he did?"
A murmur rippled through the hall.
I looked to the robed man beside me. He gave no sign — only waited.
Something inside me… shifted. A thought, not my own, slid into my mind: Show them.
I raised my hand.
The shadows reacted instantly — flooding up the walls, curling around the pillars, sweeping toward the council like a tide. Gasps broke the silence. A few took a step back.
"Enough," I said. The word left my lips like a blade drawn from its sheath.
The darkness stilled.
"Yes," I said at last, my voice calm. "I command them."
The woman's lips tightened. The man who had spoken first gave a short, stiff bow.
I didn't miss the flicker of unease that passed between them.
As the council began its reports — armies, unrest, whispered rebellions — I listened, but part of my attention was elsewhere. That presence again, warm and steady behind me, whispering thoughts that felt like my own until I noticed their perfect timing.
It was guiding me. Protecting me.
And whoever it was, they were very close.
By the time the council ended, I had made three decisions I didn't remember thinking about — all of which made the nobles bow a fraction lower than when they'd entered.
The robed man dismissed them and turned back to me. "You carry yourself as if you were born to the throne, Majesty."
"Maybe I was," I said, though my heart beat faster at the lie.
He smiled faintly. "The dead seem to think so."
When the hall was empty again, I sat alone in the throne's shadow. The presence lingered just behind me, unseen, unspoken — but somehow… familiar.
I closed my eyes. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw a man in black armor, his face hidden, standing at my side.
When I opened them, the throne room was empty.
But I could still feel him.
Watching.