Thunder rumbled in the night as a storm raged on. The wind made its fury known on the window of a bright room.

  Inside upon a large bed rested a woman, her long silky black hair cascading over the sheets. Her piercing orange eyes stared at a man sitting on a chair beside the bed.

  The black-haired, blue-eyed man sat comfortably while smiling childishly at the woman who was in the midst of labor.

  “So sister,” he said casually in an attempt to hold his laughter. “How goes the delivery?”

  Midnight glared heatedly at her brother. He had come in ten minutes ago not saying a word and this was the first thing he said?

  She growled threateningly at him but he just laughed and waved it off.

  Nico was unconcerned and it showed in his casual disposition.

  Midnight snorted and looked away with a sniff.

  “Laugh while you can brother of mine, you never know what lies under the bed,” she replied enigmatically.

  “If it’s about the time I hid under your bed and scared you,” he sighed dramatically. “I apologize, again.”

  A violent barrage of thunder rang around them. The drops of water becoming so big it was a wonder the window remained intact.

  “Do you think the angels are trying to drown us again?” he declared suddenly.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if they did.”

  Nico laughed merrily while Midnight smiled.

  Both remembered stories their father used to tell. One being how the angles in some foolish attempt to drown them flooded the entire world of the living.

  “Honestly you would think the heavenly host would learn to leave us alone. Remind me again how many conflicts they won?” he asked his sister.

  “None,” she replied flatly.

  “I thought as much. They did win battles I’ll give them that but in the end victory belongs to the bold.”

  Midnight rolled her eyes and groaned as pain began to erupt from her lower body.

  Seeing her body suddenly shift in discomfort Nico turned serious and let the nearby maids tend to his sister.

  Midnight let out a shrill cry, her hoarse voice layered with agony

  “Where is my husband!?” she shrieked.

  Ignoring his sister getting agitated and the smell of blood that started to boil from its owner’s rage. He replied in a calm tone of voice underlined with something akin to anticipation.

  “Our dear king, your husband, is currently outside cowering in the hall. Fearful of your wrath.”

  Nico couldn’t help but smile, his best friend’s fear of his wife was legendary and not unwarranted.

  The demon queen truly was frightening when angered as he had witnessed countless times before.

  Any sane demon would steer clear of her when she was a little annoyed.

  But his king in a bout of madness or drunken bravery demanded she marry him. She accepted obviously but only after she beat him black and blue for demanding anything of her.

  “I’m not cowering,” replied a deep voice muffled by the door.

  Nico turned his head to look back at the door.

  “Then why don’t you come in!” he shouted mockingly.

  He already knew the answer and the moment of silence that followed all but confirmed it.

  “I’d rather not,” finally mumbled the voice.

  Nico could practically smell the fear that emanated from behind the door, his brother-in-law most certainly wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Midnight let out a growl, the pain becoming unbearable, in a state of clarity she turned to her brother.

  Nico knew that look and was more than happy to carry out his silent order, rising from his chair, he walked to the door.

  He opened the door and elegantly exited the room all the while pushing his friend inside.

  Stunned, the demon turned around, astonished by the audacity displayed by his friend.

  Nico gave him an innocent smile before closing the door behind him. Leaving the king alone against his wife, the queen.

  King Ragnaros the Infernal, the lord of darkness, ruler of hell and master of a thousand demons, froze as he gazed at the bloodstains around his wife's lower half.

  The great, red-skinned, demon's brilliant green eyes met his wife's orange ones. In those eyes he saw great promises of pain.

  Quickly, he turned to the door and tried to open it but found it locked.

  “Nico let me out,” he ordered calmly.

  Silence met his order.

  Behind him he could feel the burning gaze of his wife getting hotter by the second.

  “Let me out, that’s an order,” he said louder.

  Ragnaros began to knock on the door with great strength.

  The feeling of dread he had sensed the moment he entered intensified. He could sense his doom approaching.

  “Let me out!!” he shouted in fright.

  Abandoning all forms of propriety he desperately tried to rip the door off its hinges. Failing he tried to force his way out by ramming his body into the door.

  His struggle came to an end when the growl of his wife turned to that of a raging beast.

  “Ragnaros! I am giving birth to our greatest achievement and you dare try to leave?”

  The king slowly turned around, he could feel his wife's rage from across the room. A burning inferno encompassing all his senses. He gulped and felt like he was swallowing ash.

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  Midnight, his beautiful queen, was surrounded by darkness. The shadows danced around her form concealing her body in a sea of liquid black.

  Her normal visage replaced by a smiling eldritch horror with burning red eyes and a mouth of sharp pointy teeth.

  Trembling with terror, Ragnaros felt real fear and no matter what anyone said he was justified in being afraid of his wife.

  His back hit the door, he let himself slump to the floor trying to make himself smaller.

  (Break)

  On the other side of the door Nico was laughing loudly along with the guards on duty. Which was a mix of his clansmen, the king’s warband and the royal guard, retired members of the warband.

  Their king's cries of panic and their queen's screams of rage greatly amused the mischievous entities.

  A brilliant flash of lighting followed by a roar of thunder so loud it shook the walls interrupted their laughter.

  They noticed that the cries of panic and rage had stopped, being replaced by the cry of a newborn baby.

  Pure joy filled the hearts of all who heard it, and no one was happier than Nico who was smiling broadly.

  “I’m an uncle!” he shouted for all to hear.

  He received congratulations from his companions, all of whom were in high spirits. After all if the child was as rambunctious as his father the future promised to be exciting.

  “Well then,” said Nico clapping his hands once. “Time to go meet the little on and see if our king is still among us.”

  He unlocked the door and entered hearing chuckles behind him.

  He closed the door softly as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere that had set in.

  The baby had returned to his slumber after being disturbed by the birth. He was now sleeping comfortably in his mother’s gentle embrace.

  Ragnaros sat beside her admiring the two, his slightly scarred face expressing awe at the sight.

  Nico approached with intrigue, quietly he made his way to bed and looked in amazement at the little one.

  “A son,” murmured Midnight with reverence.

  He could already hear the cries of joy that would erupt from every corner of hell, a son, a great day was upon them.

  Especially for those who bet the baby would be a boy, another great victory for him.

  “What a shame for Nilrem, he bet his little magic staff,” said Nico.

  “At least he didn’t bet his title,” replied Ragnaros smugly.

  The two laughed until Midnight cleared her throat and reminded them of the sleeping boy in her arms.

  Hellfire bless them. The Forbidden One allowed a great gift to be born.

  Then again it was his grandson, so of course the first demon king of the demonic alliance would allow such a birth.

  Even if his name was banished, like the so-called god of the white-winged pigeons above them.

  Nico wanted so badly to say his name to thank him and renew his father’s oath of loyalty.

  He held back, honoring the pact between angelic and demonic beings made long ago. Never to utter the names of God and the Forbidden One again lest they invoke them by accident.

  The last demon to say the name was sent to the abyss for a decade as punishment, much to their amusement.

  “Did you decide what to name him?” asked Nico.

  At that Ragnaros looked away wincing slightly, while Midnight glared at him with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation.

  “Nyx of the black serpent clan,” finally said Ragnaros.

  Nico bewildered by the choice looked to his sister for a reasonable answer.

  “My idiotic husband is responsible for this travesty,” she said with an edge of fury.

  Looking at Ragnaros, Nico saw he was looking down in silence, essentially shamed by his wife, he was clearly embarrassed.

  “I thought he was a girl… So I named his Nyxalia,” he mumbled.

  Nico looked back at Midnight who was staring at the ceiling agitated by her fool of a husband.

  “Because of his moment of stupidity our son is stuck with a feminine name. You know a demon who is naturally born cannot change their name once it is given. So, we had to shorten it to sound as masculine as possible. The best my coward of a husband and I could do was Nyx,” she explained.

  Ragnaros tried to speak but stopped when Midnight slowly turned her head towards him.

  Her bright orange eyes, glowing like a thousand flames, burned a hole in his soul. The mad smile making her look insane and the dark expression that promised suffering made him shut his mouth for his own safety.

  Nico laughed wildly, indifferent to the look of vengeance Ragnaros sent him.

  “I can’t punish my wife but you, High General, on the other hand will be doing paperwork for the next century.”

  Nico froze and struggled to speak, choking on his words only gargled sounds escaped his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at his king, who was smirking at him, sighing in defeat Nico gave the victory to his friend.

  He approached his sister to gaze at his nephew and have his first proper look at him.

  The first thing he noticed was black hair, so dark that even an abyss would reflect light compared to it. Black hair was a very common trait in their family, the shade was odd and rather unusual but who is he to complain about the result.

  His pretty face would surely be gorgeous when he grew up, with succubi and other demonesses all vying for his attention.

  Nyx must have sensed he was being watched, for he opened his eyes to reveal brilliant rubies.

  Natural red eyes were so rare among their kind.

  Of course with a little power they could all make their eyes glow red but to have them without interference, amazing.

  Considering his heritage however it wasn’t surprising. The weather outside once raging had now calmed, the rain reduced to a drizzle as if the sky were lamenting or weeping with joy.

  “Can I be the first to announce him?” asked Nico, they both nodded slightly in permission. “Presenting, Prince Nyx of the black serpents, Prince of the demonic alliance, son of Ragnaros the Infernal, grandson of the Forbidden One.”

  “You wanted to be the first to say it for gloating rights, didn’t you?” asked Ragnaros.

  “I will neither confirm or deny that accusation,” stated Nico. “But my father was the one to announce you when you were born so it seemed appropriate.”

  (Break)

  His wife holding his newborn son would be a memory the king of demons would cherish forever.

  Even if Ragnaros wanted to stay, he couldn't, he still had duties to perform.

  The misfortunes of a king, everyone's problems were his too, much to his displeasure and the amusement of everyone else.

  He would have preferred to spend some time with his son, who experienced everything for the first time in his young life. He also wanted to shower his wife with affection for the wonderful gift that she brought them.

  Alas he had to part from his family, but there is still one more thing he could do before leaving.

  The demon king turned towards the door and smiled cruelly as his eyes narrowed mischievously.

  “I heard you all through the door. Laughing and mocking you king, how shameful, know there will be appropriate punishments,” he declared loudly.

  Groans of disappointment came from the guards closest to the door, but the king knew they were still smiling, cheeky and loyal, who could ask for more.

  They all knew he wouldn't punish them much.

  They, after all, are current and former members of his warband or members of the black serpent clan.

  Warriors who fought by his side when he was still just a prince. To this day they remain, protecting him and his family. Ready to fight at a moment's notice.

  From the glorious days of yore, when they went on rampages across the realms, wreaking havoc in his name, Nico and so many others at his side.

  Their younger years really were the best. Installing fear in any that crossed their path, gaining them a reputation that surpassed the one of his father and his warband.

  With any luck his son would be just as noisy and surpass him when the time was right.

  He paused, upon reflection his father wasn't happy when he went on adventures and now that he was king, he really didn't want to know why.

  Thoughts for another time, he had wandered off, back to the matter at hand.

  Ragnaros raised his voice so that all the demons outside could hear him.

  “As I don’t know which of you are guilty all those guarding this hallway will be put on cleaning duties.”

  Their reactions did not disappoint.

  “What!?”

  “How dare you?”

  “That’s discrimination!”

  Many more disgruntled cries and complaints joined the chorus of angry voices, uniting in their outrage.

  Nico laughed at their misfortune, then remembered his own punishment and became depressed.

  “Do you have any idea how much paperwork I’m going to have to do?” he asked Ragnaros.

  “No, but do tell me when you figure it out,” he responded bluntly.

  Ragnaros left the room to the swearing of his brother-in-law and the gentle laughter of his ethereal wife.

  Turning into the hallway he was met with unhappy stares which satisfied him, that will teach them to laugh at their leader.

  He walked down the hallway until the highest ranked demon blocked his path, it just so happened to be the second in command of the royal guards.

  “Legion how can I help?” he asked joyfully.

  The one who is many although formless made a valiant attempt at glaring or the closest thing to it.

  “King Ragnaros. The lads and we. Have come to an agreement. We protest. This punishment is absurd,” said many warped and whispering voices.

  Legion crossed their arms, wisps of shadows flowing from their misty, formless body.

  Their ire was clear to see and feel but it only served to amuse Ragnaros even more.

  “And what will you do if I ignore your protest?” he asked curious to see where this would go.

  “We. Will go. On Strike!” they exclaimed.

  “I’ll ban you all from drinking alcohol.”

  That seemed to quell any complaint they had, all of them straightened their postures.

  “We accept. Any punishment. With grace and dignity.” said Legion.

  “Of course,” muttered Ragnaros.

  He continued on his way to his office while chuckling in a far better mood then when he had first arrived.