Hell’s Consort

Newest Chapter for Highest Tier (November 2021 )

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BACK TO THE PRESENT…

QUEEN MORGAN OF THE AUTUMN REALM

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As she fell headfirst to her own Kingdom, her long hair floated around her like a cloud.

The thick strands of her hair were all over the place, and she noticed a little too late that the silky tresses on her head that she concealed with ink-black had returned to their normal color.

Eyes widening in shock, Merle felt like buckets of ice-cold water were poured onto her skin as the strong winds around her acted like whiplash.

Gravity had pulled her short leather skirt upside down and exposed her long shapely legs that she tried her best to cover with her hand.

With gritted teeth, Merle squeezed her eyes shut and muttered spells of Fae Magic under her breath to reinforce her disguise and turn her red hair back to black.

That way, no one from the Ancient Elders she had gathered for the Council, aside from Endre, would recognize who she used to be. In the current times, Merle was Queen Morgan.

The rightful queen. 

Unfortunately, her Fae Magic couldn't keep up with the disguise while she managed to strengthen the protective dome around the Fall Courts.

As her efforts stopped working, she finally released the glamour on her appearance.

It was all in vain, so it was better for her to give it up.

Merle suspected that all of her energy and life force was committed to strengthening the barriers to prevent the Archdemon of Lust's Legion from infiltrating the Fall Courts.

The inhabitants were more important than the fact whether someone from the ancient Faeries her age would recognize her or not. 

In the Fair folk's eyes, Morgan was a legendary heroine who saved them from demonic possessions during the Great War.

Queen Morgan was the face she showed to the world for the longest time, so she couldn't possibly change now.

With the fox mask she always wore the instant she got out of her royal chamber, Merle had become what she had pretended to be, and Queen Morgan of the Fall Courts was her new identity.

She had always insisted that she wasn't Merle anymore—the low cross Knight who withdrew from Prince Balthasar's Militia and tempted an Archangel to sin—as if that would cover the errors that she made in the past.

Merle and Archangel Uriel had taken such a dangerous leap and launched themselves to the unknown.

Of course, there was no other direction but to fall. She dared to follow her primal instincts of having Archangel Uriel to herself without any thoughts and consideration of the consequences.

Fear of missing this chance to be with the one she loved haunted her.

Their love was once in a lifetime, and it will never come again.

The knowledge she had about the Angel Kind had unraveled for the worse.

  The horrible disillusionment turned her world upside down, and the only thing she could do was to watch it crumble to the ground.

It shattered her dreams and hopes of beating the Highest God to change her and Uriel's destiny. The future she had perceived during that time was a dream. 

  Queen Morgan shook her head to release the prolonged grief in her thoughts that wouldn't vanish.

She was airborne and had yet to land in this never-ending descent.

For some reason, she couldn't use her Fae Magic, but why did her brain choose to distract her with something that had already happened? 

She was holding on to what was no longer best for her.

Everything had changed, and she couldn't stay the same.

The past was only a memory, and the way to achieve peace from it was acceptance.

If she would continue inducing her mind to silence, then her heart would be more fulfilled.

No one in this world satisfied her soul as Archangel Uriel did.

All the tension in her muscles loosened up when she relaxed.

  What will come next?

  Will her world end, or will she keep falling with no future at all?

Someone jolted her awake, and she opened her eyes to glance up at one of her Cadres, Sylvain seated on the chair beside her bed in the Autumn Realm to watch over her frail form.

Jorah and Kotari were in her chamber, too, standing guard by the door and not letting anyone in despite the Elders' insistence to see her and make sure she was still alive.

The Cadre was the only Faeries who knew about her actual appearance—the unique red hair she possessed that made her stand out like a sore thumb, making her enemies easier to hunt her--and kept it a secret.

At first, her brows knitted in confusion as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

The dream she had earlier had brought her back in time where she lived in the small hut at the top of the mountains with Uriel, so it jarred her to suddenly see all these finest silks and fabrics of her pillowcases, blankets, and gilded tapestries.

Yes, she was Queen Morgan. Not Merle.

  Taking a deep breath, she inhaled and exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

She just had to lay back in this bed, relax and observe as she relinquished the past and listen to what her Cadre had to report her of the current situation of the battle.

Sylvain explained that Queen Morgan had successfully killed the President of the Demonic Legion. Unfortunately, the impact was so strong that she had vanished from their sight, and they had to look for her while flaming balls of sulfur formed from the dragon's ashes lay suspended in the air for a few seconds before it started raining fire in the Realm.

It was the Vampire King who saw her fall from the sky, unconscious, and helped them with the rescue.

Sylvain also added that they informed the Vampire King beforehand not to tell anyone what she looked like without her fox mask since it disintegrated during the attack.

"Please call the Vampire King over here, Kotario.. I have something to tell him."