Teyva sat on the throne quietly, ignoring the notifications that prompted in the back of her mind. She glanced over at Journey who had taken up a seat on the ground to her right. The ethereal woman looked far less imposing now that she was bound by the shackles of the wish that Teyva had made. Teyva looked down at the body in the center of the room and waved a hand, “<Preserve Death>”. She intoned. A faint magical aura wrapped around Thrake’s corpse and faded from view. She looked down at her hand again and rubbed her face. She was putting off what she needed to do.

“Journey,” Teyva called quietly.

“What do you want?” The irritable being snipped.

“Lay off the attitude, we’re stuck together now,” Teyva growled, “I just have a question.”

The ancient being sighed, “What is your question?”

“Can you broadcast a prompt to anyone? Not just an outsider like me?” Teyva asked.

“Of course, I just have no reason to,” Journey said morosely, crossing her legs under her body and fluttering her wings. Off to the side, Nephral glowered at her majestic wingspan, flaring his wings and hissing once before settling back on Teyva’s shoulders.

“You do now, I have a prompt for you to send to everyone,” Teyva said thoughtfully.

Journey frowned but turned to look at Teyva anyway, “What would you like it to say?”

---

Azrael paced in the chambers beyond the throne room of the King of the Elves. The ex-king and his family had been taken down to the prisons below and the nobility that had already sided with the cause of the age-eater cult were hard at work preparing Leo for what was to come. That left her and the others to their thoughts. They’d heard nothing from Teyva for just over a day, now, and she was beginning to worry. She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her temples, finally finding a seat at the edge of a bench.

“Finally,” Sari breathed, “You should relax, stressing like that isn’t good for a woman in your condition.”

“My condition?” Azrael demanded and then paused, sighing, “Right, sorry.”

Conrad crossed his arms, leaning against a wall, “There was a little activity on her status bars a few minutes ago, then it stopped. Perhaps we’ll hear something soon?” He pointed out.

Myranda nodded, “She won’t keep us waiting long, Lady Azrael, have faith,” she said, closing her eyes and inclining her head as if in prayer.

Azrael rolled her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, she’d tried contacting Teyva through the private chat a few times now but it had been nothing but silence. That wasn’t a good sign. She was about to get to her feet again and start pacing when a tone drew her attention. She blinked as a prompt appeared in her vision. She glanced around and saw that the others had received the same prompt. Out in the hall, a series of gasps told her that they weren’t the only ones. She turned her attention to the prompt and felt her stomach bottom out.

 

The King is Dead, Long live the Queen After a harrowing battle, the King of the Azar and his Four have died at the hands of Katali attackers. His daughter, Teyva Akura, has chosen to ascend to the throne of Osan. In her grief, she has sworn vengeance upon the human nations of the west with the bodies of their defeated ascendants as her witness. May the gods have mercy upon the people of Katal, because she shall not. Come, you heroes, when the cycle begins anew. I will be waiting.

 

Azrael felt her knees buckle under her. She fell to the ground and let her head hang. Nearby, Conrad punched the nearest wall in fury. Myranda covered her mouth and Sari closed her eyes. The door opened to the hall and a pale-faced Leo stumbled into the room, looking between them in horror. He looked down at Azrael and slid to the ground as well, covering his face.

In a corner of the room, a swirl of darkness took form and the Archlich stepped out of an opening in the air. He looked over the room, his usually bright eyes dimmer than usual. Finally he shook his head, “Is this the four that Queen has chosen to be her vanguard? Weeping in the dark?”

Azrael was the first to her feet, tears in her eyes, as she brought a knife to the Lich’s throat, “Say that again.”

“She needs us,” Paraklytus said cooly, “Now more than ever.”

Azrael flinched, her lip trembling, “My father is dead!”

“I know,” Paraklytus said, taking her in his arms and pulling her close for a moment, “I am so sorry.”

The tears lasted for a while, but eventually Azrael pulled herself together enough to stand on her own two feet. She wiped her face clean and cleared her throat.

Teyva?

I’m here.

How is he?

Smiling. He looks peaceful. I cast a preservation spell.

Good. Did you hurt them?

I did.

Good.

I need you here, Azrael.

I know, I’ll be there as fast as I can.

Azrael cut the connection and rubbed her face, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the group. She cleared her throat and straightened her hair, “Well? What the hell are you all standing around for? We have work to do! Move it!”

---

Bertrand leaned back in his chair, staring at the message from the gods. He licked his lips, so another Azar already pretended for the throne? Interesting, it was unprecedented to be sure but given the reactions from his fellow conspirators, it was obvious that this situation was more than mere illusion. He tapped his finger on the table and glanced at Iska who rubbed her hands irritably, her eyes on the single blue stone sitting in front of her. It had gone dead and quiet hours ago. He cleared his throat and rapped the table hard with one knuckle, startling her. The Admiral looked up from her thoughts and blinked at him a few times before adjusting herself in her seat.

“Our ascendants are dead,” She said harshly, “What are you going to do about this?’

“And another Azar is planning on taking the throne already!” General Bann bellowed, slamming his fist on the table, “This is madness!”

Prince Markiv looked thoughtful, “Interesting that the message says heroes in the plural, did you notice that, Uncle?”

Iska and Bann whipped their heads in the young man’s direction, Bertrand nodded, “I did,” He said, “Fascinating really, I had theorized for some time that the cycle was some manner of system. Even the humble systemic magics of our realm has failsafes, why not something as grand as the cycle?”

Prince Markiv nodded, “You see it as I do, then, that’s a relief. Though there is a problem.”

“The King,”: Bertrand said, “He won’t see the losses from this subjugation as acceptable, especially with this outcome. Yet what we need now is unity among the western peoples of this continent.”

“Are you suggesting a coup of your own monarch, in front of us?” Iska balked.

“Hardly, I’ll pressure him into making me Archduke. Then I’ll let stress and my connections do the rest, he is an old man,” Bertrand said sourly, “Not how I wanted to do this, but such is the way of things.”

“You’re remarkably calm,” General Bann chuckled.

“Why shouldn’t I be? I cannot change the outcome at this point, all I can do is turn it to my favor,” The count said, “Worry not, when these new heroes come we will be waiting and we will be ready to turn them against this new Demon Lord. Mark my words, this is far from over.”

---

Four Months Later…

 

Teyva stood in the gardens, overlooking the swaying sea of grains that stretched out beyond the city limits of Osan. Construction had already begun on a perimeter wall and towers were going up at adjoining points. Down below, people were walking through the roads around the city, carrying banners and carrying on with the celebration. Teyva reached up to stroke Nephral’s side, her long fingers brushing against his thick fur. She refocused her vision, looking at herself in the reflective surface. She’d changed so much since she’d arrived in Orum.

There was hardly a hint of Rani’s appearance left in her visage. Her face had become more narrow and elegant, her eyes were hard and the yellow had turned molten gold. The crystalline scales that had started in spots on her brow and neck had grown into her hairline and across her chest. Her lips had thinned and her countenance was more regal. Her hair pulled back to show the full extent of her transformation. Her long ears twitched and she reached up to run her fingers over the slits beneath her eyes. They fluttered once and opened, a second set of eyes that she had yet to get used to. She looked down at her talons, fully merged with her fingers, and sighed.

“The price of power, right, Azrael?” Teyva said quietly.

“You look beautiful, Teyva,” Azrael said from behind her, crossing the distance between them and stopping at the open window. She stared out over the expanse with her, arms crossed behind her back. “We’re about ready.”

Teyva huffed out a laugh, “Weeks of preparation for this thing,” she said sourly, “We didn’t even spend that much time on his funeral.”

Azrael chuckled, “You honestly think he would have wanted a flashy funeral?”

Teyva sighed and shook her head, “No I suppose not,” she paused, “Is everyone here?”

“The first elders have gathered along with the nobles of the cardinal clans. King Leo is present, a representative of the badland orc tribes arrived last night, representatives of the humans within the wildlands arrived this morning, and we have the Akurai elders present as well,” Azrael said, “We, the Four, await your presence, your Majesty.”

Azrael stepped back and dropped into a half bow at the waist, gesturing to the entrance of the gardens. There, Sari, Myranda, and Conrad were waiting for her. She glanced once at Azrael who was wearing a refined version of her warden dress uniform. The spaulders were new, as was the gold trim, it looked a lot like the uniforms that the other three were wearing. She turned her eyes to Conrad who was a little too burly to wear the uniform properly, his top two buttons undone revealing part of his broad chest.

“Preparations at the walls are complete, Majesty,” Conrad said, “We’ve had no sightings of western human activity either, the skies are clear. No one will interrupt this.”

Teyva nodded, “Thank you Conrad,” she turned to Sari, “How are things with the people?”

“Fortunately, after you activated your heart stone and the labyrinth came back to life, the subterranean farms went back to work as well. Foodstuffs are more than adequate. People are happy and healthy,” Sari said, “Let’s hurry this up so I can return to my research. I have books to read.”

Teyva chuckled and shook her head, turning to Myranda, “And your priests?”

“Number at seven now,” Myranda said, “We are working on strategies for evangelization.”

“Good,” Teyva said with a nod, “And Paraklytus?”

“He waits for you in the Throne Room,” Azrael said, “The magi have taken to him quite well and he’s done fine work preparing the protective spells for the city.”

Teyva nodded and opened her mouth again to ask another question only to be cut off by a chortle from Conrad, “You’re dawdling, Teyva!”

Teyva huffed out a breath, “Am not!”

“Definitely dawdling,” Myranda tittered out a laugh.

Teyva glowered at the priestess and sighed, “Alright fine I’m dawdling!” She groaned, slumping a little bit on the spot, “It’s just,” She trailed off, “Once I do this that’ll be it, his time will be over, a new cycle will start, I still don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’re ready,” Azrael said, “And the whole world is about to find out just how ready you are.”

Teyva looked her friend in the eyes and squared her shoulders. “Right, let’s do this.”

Teyva took the lead, marching out to the lift chamber beyond and they took the lift down to the Throne level. When Teyva stepped out she spotted Yaga standing off to the side, her arms crossed in thought. Teyva slowed to a stop and turned to face her, swallowing hard. Yaga had closed herself off to everyone after the events of the winter, shutting herself inside a room and refusing to speak to anyone. Yaga looked up from where she was brooding and spotted Teyva, her eyes going wide. She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t have a chance to say a word. Instead, Teyva hurried over and pulled her into an embrace.

“It’s good to see you,” Teyva breathed, squeezing the woman tightly.

Yaga hesitated and then returned the hug, “I missed you too, Tey.”

Teyva pulled back and looked her in the eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Yaga said with a nod, “I needed time.”

“Take all the time you need,” Teyva said, reaching up and placing a hand on her lover’s cheek, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Yaga nodded, and took Teyva’s hand, “Enough of the sweet stuff, save it for later,” She said quietly and glanced up at the Four who were standing uncomfortably off to the side. “You have a ceremony to complete.”

“Mother is dawdling again,” Nephral said in her ear.

Teyva gasped, she’d forgotten he was still on her neck, “Nephral!”

“Queen of Procrastination, at least,” Sari chimed in.

Teyva rolled her jaw and groaned, rolling her eyes and turning around, throwing her fist into the air, “Procrastinate this! Let’s get this over with! As soon as I’ve got that crown on my head I’m going to work you asshats to the bone, you hear me!” She bellowed, marching toward them. She came to a stop a few paces away from Yaga and looked back. The woman winked at her and Teyva smiled, letting out a relieved breath. “Alright, fine, I’m ready.”

The throne room had been completely repaired after the battle, the walls around them standing strong against the turbulent winds outside. The royal guard was positioned along the walls, standing as they had been the first time Teyva had entered the room from the opposite side. Now, as she entered from the back she saw a sight similar to the one she’d seen before the festival. Four columns of Azar nobles stood in neat order, at their head were the first elders of each clan. To the left, a column of elves, some of whom Teyva recognized from the party at the Lower Palace, stood with the now King Leo at the front. A collection of humans and orcs also made themselves present in the throne room. All of them dropped to a knee when Teyva stepped out, led by the Four.

Teyva walked around the throne, pausing to glance at King Leo, and smiled at him, “Leo, right?”

He looked up at her, surprised by her sudden interaction, “Yes, I am.”

“A King does not Kneel,” Teyva said smoothly and winked at him, “Stand up.”

The Elven King got to his feet quickly, nodding to her in appreciation. She waved her hand and moved to the Throne where Paraklytus was waiting, a pillow in his hands. Atop it, a crown. It was an elegant thing, simple and smooth, it looked to be made out of some sort of white silver. Teyva wanted badly to analyze it with her journal but decided that would be better left for another time. She stopped in front of the throne and turned to face the audience gathered and took a deep breath.

“A long time ago, there was a queen by the name of Rani,” Teyva began, drawing the attention of those gathered. “She cast a terrible curse on this world, starting a cycle that would see the Azar people fall over and over again. Her vengeance has seen to my peoples suffering for millenia,” Teyva said, drawing a few shifts from the crowd of Azar.

“This latest cycle, her curse saw to the death of a good man. A man of peace. A man who wanted nothing more than to work hand in hand with the humans of the west!” She looked down at her hands, lingering for a moment on the right hand that had dealt the final blow, “They took a hero from us even as he sought peace with every fiber of his being.”

“Every time a new leader of the Azar is enthroned, the cycle begins anew. This world will turn on us the moment that crown rests upon my head,” Teyva said, “Make no mistake. We have challenges ahead of us.”

Teyva’s eyes scanned the crowd, “I won’t bend, I won’t falter, I will spit in the eye of this cycle and take this world for myself if need be. I will do what I must for my people and for the other races that have been crushed under the weight of Katal’s bigotry,” She paused, “Whatever it takes. The cycle that begins today will be the last.”

She lowered her hands and glanced to Paraklytus. The lich’s eyes glowed brightly as they locked gazes. She nodded and dropped to a knee. He removed the crown from the pillow and stepped to her side.

“As High Magister of Osan and Archlich of the fallen Labyrinthian people, I name Teyva Akura, Mother of Monsters, Queen of the Azar and future ruler of this realm!” Paraklytus proclaimed, placing the crown on her head.

DING!

A NEW DEMON LORD HAS BEEN CROWNED! THE CYCLE BEGINS ANEW! PROCESSING… PROCESSING… MASSIVE MULTIPLAYER OPERATION BEGINNING

 

The ground shook, the lights above their heads flickered, the doors to the throne room flew open and a guard pointed into the skywalk with a balked look on his face. Grabbing her crown to make sure it didn’t fall off, Teyva slipped off the Throne and jumped down amidst the gathered nobility. She raced past them, brushing past the guard and sliding to a stop to look out the glass that encompassed the rebuilt skywalk. The sky was on fire, hundreds of columns of light erupting from all directions across the world.

Azrael hurried to Teyva’s side and froze, staring out at the light show. “What are they?”

“Heroes,” Teyva said with a smile, “A whole lot of heroes.”

Connection secured! Processing… Processing… Vessel Located! Transmigration complete! WELCOME TO ORUM!

---

 

A note from Webby:

Volume 3 has come to an end and so has Teyva Akura's origin story, the game is afoot and the Cycle continues on in the next volume.

I'm going to be taking a break through the holidays but I plan on returning to releases on January 2nd!

It's been a wild ride and TMoM has come so far in no small way thanks to you guys, thank you all so much for supporting me as the story continues.

For those of you who are starved for a little more, Volume 4 has already begun on Patreon and chapter releases will continue (at a bit of a reduced schedule) throughout the holidays on that platform.

Love you guys, Thank you again for joining me on this journey with The Mother of Monsters

Webby