IN VENICE, ITALY, beneath the majesty of Saint Mark's Basilica, stood a door to another world. Carved by magic from gold and ebony, it depicted creatures of splendor with wings made of light fighting the demons of hell.
Through the door, the Throne Room of the Twilight Court overwhelmed most who entered. The first floor stretched long and wide, covered in gold and black carpet, lined with suits of armor on either side. The second and third floors held balconies from which you could view the hall. Members of the Tribunal used it while making judgment, and they sat there now, the Lord of Nightfall and Lord of Sunrise, each wearing the colors of their Order. Those pleading, or on trial, used the first floor and seemed puny amidst the vast hall.
At the far side, a circle engraved with glyphs and cycles of the moon marked the carpet's end and the place where the High Queen had ascended her Throne, which hung suspended by magic above it all. No one could reach the Twilight Throne without wings to fly them. It had been carved of white and black diamond fused together with a base like a giant rock of obsidian and gold. It shimmered with white heat, a warning to those who try to sit in the seat of power. If any Nephilim other than the rightfully-elected Twilight Ruler tried to breach the protection of the Throne, their wings would burn off. Some say, they never grew back.
Only the ruler of all Nephilim could sit in the Throne.
Queen Seraphina sat there now, her black hair inlaid with golden vines to match her black velvet gown stitched in gold. She was of the Court of Nightfall, and as such wore her Order's colors, tempered with the Sunrise gold and white to honor her place as ruler of them all.
Her dark wings pulsed behind her as she rested her pale hands on her lap, her nails the color of the moon. With sharp eyes she watched her Lords hear and decide the fate of those in their Order, noting names and faces, filing it all away in her expanded memory and consciousness.
Politics were always fickle with the Nephilim, even after her reign of almost 500 years.
A globe hung to her right, sizable enough to hold in two hands comfortably. It shimmered with color, rotating on its own, reflecting images at seeming random. Seraphina had devised the object early in her reign to expand her own ability to 'see' her kingdom. It had alerted her to the boy, Drake's awakening. By law, Beleth was justified in completing the transformation of his son, but the act done without consent gave her leverage over the unusual Nephilim, and she coveted these debts owed for a time when she would need them most.
She lifted her gaze, her dark eyes flashing as the Emzara Commander approached her throne. He was larger than most Nephilim, endowed with special gifts that made his job as enforcer of her laws easier. He did not wear the colors of his Order. None of the Emzara did, as they had their own uniform made of fire and ice, forged with magic to become part of them.
"My Queen, the new recruit has given us problems once again. We have him in custody awaiting your order."
Seraphina would have sighed, but that would reveal too much about her emotional disposition. Instead, she paused, letting the weight of her silence linger.
The Commander wouldn't shift, wouldn't show any signs that he worried about her reaction, but she could tell. And so she waited more, and then spoke when she knew the timing would be most impactful.
"Summon the Disrupter," she said. The Lords to her right and left paused in their own discussions as the large room on all floors fell silent. No one had summoned the Disrupter in over a thousand years.
For the first time, the Commander nearly stammered. "Uh—yes, Your Majesty."
"We need this soldier. I have my plans. I see your questions, know your concerns, but in this you will have to trust my judgment. You do trust my judgment, do you not?"
He bowed deeply as she knew he would. "Of course, My Queen. It shall be done."
Sounds of screaming could be heard throughout the Twilight Court for three days and three nights without relief. Those who could leave, had. Those who couldn't without offending their Queen or failing in their royal duties remained reluctantly, a collective expression of discomfort on the faces of them all.
Only Seraphina remained visibly unaffected by the torture.
If she shuddered within, well, who could know such things?
When the screams stopped, the Court let out its collective breath and life quickly returned to normal.
It didn't take long for the Commander to return, escorting a figure shrouded in dark robes, and an Emzara soldier who walked with purpose, clad in the gray armor of one who had once forsaken his duty.
"My Queen," said the Commander, as the Emzara fell to their knees, "it is done."
She gestured them forward. "Disrupter, please step forward."
The figure in black did as asked, but did not bow, and the Queen did not press the issue.
"Will I have any trouble with this one moving forward?" she pointed to the Emzara soldier, the Nephilim who had disrupted court for three days with his screams.