Lucy's Throne
Chapter One (Introduction)
A smal, svelte demon sat upon his bejewled throne. His body was askew, his legs swung over the arm of the royal seat, his sharp chin resting on the flesh of his hand. His eyes glowed a faint teal blue, but glancing closer, he was, in fact, bored. He let out a long yawn, his free hand moving the chains that hung from his large horns loosely out of his sight. His throne room was long, with tall ceilings adorned with decoration in purple and gold, a golden carpet leading like a spotlight directly to his throne, yet the room was completely empty except for him. No cheer, no valor, no happiness, just silence and the overly loud sound of his boredom. He went by Lucy; it was a nickname given to him by those who feared him. It was short for Lucifer, but that wasn't him. No, that was his father. King of Hell. How ironic, no? A name fit for a king, given to a Prince of Pride. His name was Valefor, Valefor Amon Orias. Lovingly referred to by a dear friend as Valley-boy. That, is me. Isn't it disgusting? Those were people, demons, I may have been able to call friends.
Is it narcissistic to write an auto-biography at such a ripe young age of a few thousand years? I sit on my throne (my glorious throne, might I add) with this stupid little book in my hands, the pen clicking against the hard shell of my horns. What is there to write about, my near-death experiences hidden behind the word "adventures"? My time taking over the grand throne? What things were like before my throne room was empty? Are you here to hear about Alcher?
Well he's gone now, you've missed out. But I guess I can humor you a bit. You'd honestly be honored to hear about the tales I have to share. I suppose I can tell a few.