The Princess of Demons

Chapter 1

Aurelia

Interestingly enough, things didn't used to be this way. I never used to wake up in a realm that isn't my own and be surrounded by people who know nothing of who I am. Yet the tiles below my feet were cool as I gripped the edge of the counter. And the breaths I drew were as real as the swords that cut my family apart. I hung my head low and hunched my shoulders. It may not be the way a lady is expected to stand, but who was going to see me? The birds.

I looked up from the white marble counter top and into the mirror. Straight, mid-length, honey blonde hair and piercing sky blue eyes stared back at me. Sometimes, while I know it's selfish, I wish I had been born as anyone else. Life would just be easier. There would be no worries of who I could and couldn't trust. I could just live like a normal teenage girl in the mortal world. Live an unknowing life for ninety years and then die a peaceful death. Doesn't that sound like a dream. Some things just can't be helped, and maybe fate has really got it out for me.

I felt my phone vibrate on the other side of the counter, but I didn't look away from the mirror. It's nothing important anyway, it's not like I have any friends that would be texting me. As I tightened my grip, my knuckles began to turn white and the defined corners pressed into my palms. Exhaling, I stood up straight and tucked the white collared uniform shirt into my maroon skirt and tightened the matching tie. While school uniforms make it easier for me to pick out my clothes, they're not exactly ideal in the comfort department. It didn't matter to me though, just one more misfortune to be thrown at me.

Grabbing my phone, and my backpack, I walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the kitchen where he was waiting for me like usual. I took a quick glance at the clock just to make sure I was on time, and I was. The kitchen was always kept perfectly clean. Countertops were never full of crumbs and food spills, the white cabinets were never stained, appliances were kept shiny, and everything always looked new. I guess that's just the way that Uncle liked things, clean and simple.

I could feel his glare from across the room, "You're cutting it close you know. I better not get a call that you were late today." I knew what he meant of course. Living far away from school out in the country made it difficult to get to school on time because of the long commute. Most of the time I drive the old navy blue pick up truck, but I wouldn't have time this morning, I would've had to have gotten up earlier for that. I found it funny how our features were completely the opposite, yet our personalities were very much the same. We both had the same cool look in our eyes, the look that told people to stay away. In turn the sharpness of my features are quickly dulled by the soft roundness of his. His brown eyes, the color of darkened caramel, only add to the mix.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now. If you need anything just text me." I said it, even though I knew he wouldn't text me. He hates modern mortal technology, says they're a waste of a good conversation. I persuaded him to get one for emergencies since I would need one to fit in with all the other teens at my school.

"Just promise me you won't let anyone see you, okay?" He asked, and he looked genuinely worried. "I know you're an immortal but it doesn't mean you can't be hurt, or killed."
"I'll be fine," I assured him, "It's not like they know I'm here. Plus no one has seen me before." Which is true, humans aren't even aware of the existence of immortals, if they ever did see me they would just think it was a bird. I looked at him, leaned up against the counter in front of the sink. He was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt and his gray beard was starting to get rather long again. Not having anything else to say he waved me off and I was out the door.

The grass was still wet from the morning dew and was soft under my feet. I gently began to release my wings, the feeling of them slowly unfurling from my back felt good. Carefully, I phased them through my shirt so I wouldn't tear it. Once they were out I unfolded them from my back and stretched them out wide. My wings are black, almost like a bat's wings, or a demon's. Though mine are black, immortals from the dragon family have wings of all shapes, colors, and sizes. The feel of my wings is soft and leathery, as though they were made to look intimidating but, in turn, be warm and comforting. Sizeably, they are nothing to be ashamed of, in fact they are quite large with a wingspan of around seven feet. The most glorious wings I had ever seen belonged to my father. They were the color of flames and were large enough to hug our entire family. Though, these could just be the memories my own mind created due to trauma.