On a quiet, still night, when the sky was blackened by clouds, a demon queen found her way into the abandoned ruins of Heaven’s Peak. Though an outsider, though an enemy of the angels, she knelt before the altar of the Archangel, praying to someone who may not even be there. Placing a golden wedding ring upon the altar, she called out, “Archangel, I know not if you can hear me or if you would listen to the prayer of a demon. My husband abandoned me, for I cannot have children of my own. I ask not for his return, but for a child. I wish to be a mother, and I am willing to pay whatever price needed.”
There was no reply for several minutes. And yet, the queen waited. She waited for a sign of acceptance or a sign of rejection. It came as a sudden gust of wind. With it, the clouds parted, and the full moon shone down upon the queen. Silhouetted against the moon, a heavenly figure flew above the altar, gazing down upon the one who had summoned her. Rather than apprehension, the figure addressed her with compassion, “You will have your child in due time. It shall not be of your own blood, but you shall treat it as if it were. All I ask in return is aid in keeping my city maintained and well-cared for. If you do this, then you shall become a mother.”
Overjoyed, the demon queen thanked the angel and ran off. True to her word, she returned every night to the fallen city when the moon was in the center of the sky. Even as the night wore on, she never once asked about the child. She instead patiently went about her duties, acting as caretaker of the ruins of Heaven’s Peak for many months.
It was during this time, across the demonic regions, in a waterlogged kingdom of storm and flood, that the royal couple was expecting a child. The day had been awaited for many moons, as this child would eventually go on to become their new ruler. Or at least, that was what they had hoped.
The child was born on a moonless night. When the king came to see his child, he cried out in horror. Instead of limbs, the newborn had fins, and a long tail where their legs would have been. “Dispose of this abomination,” the king ordered. “This thing is no child of mine.” His wish was carried out. A group of attendants came and left the child to die in the barren Wastelands. As far as the public knew, however, the child had merely not survived its birth.
It was shortly after this act that the royal couple became suddenly ill. The cause of their suffering was never determined, nor was a remedy ever found. Within a matter of days, the rulers had died, and the clan was left without an heir. Claims of royal heritage swept the region, and a long and violent war broke out, one that still continues to this very day.
But this needless suffering was unknown to the patient demon queen, who had still loyally cared for the ruins during this time. Her new job integrated seamlessly into her nightly routine, until one warm night when she heard wailing coming from the altar of the Archangel. She rushed over and saw the abandoned newborn, swaddled in blankets and crying out for its parents. But when the queen approached, the cries stopped, and were replaced with joyful giggling. The queen cradled the newborn in her arms and, overcome with emotion, collapsed to her knees before the altar. Saying one last prayer of thanks, she took in the child as her own.
To this day, the ruins of Heaven’s Peak remain in immaculate condition. Some say that a pair of demons can still be seen approaching the ruins, smiling fondly at the moon as they watch over the fallen city.