Queen Kaianan

by Cara Violet

The Arch Mages closed the gold chiffon curtains across the windows and Julius breathed out, trotting along the grey floor in consternation. What to do, he thought. Was Kaianan right about the conspiracy against him? Why would she lie? Maybe she’s jealous. Jealous of what though?

  “You need to reinstate the fear my, King,” Kydra whispered to him. He had forgotten she was by his side. Slanted, malice-filled eyes crowned her gaunt, painted white face, and he had never seen her so wicked. That didn’t give away her over-eagerness to the others though. Cleanly dressed in the gold and red royal gown that hugged her upper body and billowed out from her hips, she looked the part of a Queen of Sile. And beneath all that, she was right.

  Julius could see the uncertainty in the black-draped Necromancer’s regard for him. Faces of hollow unacceptance. This could not happen, not on his watch. He needed to form a united leadership. Show the people who he was—a rightful leader and King.

  Elli Nermordis was laid onto the gold bench below the front altar. His robes had been changed and his face cleaned of blood. The Arch Mages, coating him in smoke from their small uplighters—symbolising the close of this life to the next—whispered a soft chant. The citizens of Sile were still piling into the Temple, squeezing into the few spots left at each wooden stall. It had become crowded quickly. Some had no choice but to stand, still trying to get a view of the deceased King.

  Arch Mage Konrolic was by Julius’s other side. “You must be the one to officiate the descent into the Temple, my dear King. We prepare his spot below.”

  Julius felt ill at ease. “I know what I must do.” At that same moment, Darlia pranced past him with a murderous look, and Nake, Krivta and Metrix ventured past her, standing closest to the tablet. Julius sucked air into his lungs, exhaling out in a sigh.

  He walked up the wooden stairs to the altar draped in Sile-made woven fabric and bowed to the multiple Arch Mages standing graciously behind it. Then he turned right and led himself up a few more steps to the wooden podium. He did not acknowledge the contemptuous faces of the crowd below him. He simply tilted his head and began: “My Silkrians, the people of Sile, at this moment we lay my father down to terror … I know deep in my heart, there is a conspiracy at work. This dawn we put Elli Nermordis, son of Sile, brother of the Silkri and father to you all, to rest. His legacy will not be forgotten. The loyalty he showed his people, now I will give to you. People of Sile, we have a new focus. A new direction. A direction to prevent the capture of our world. Rivalex is ours and we will fight for it.”

  Nake expelled the saliva from his mouth.

  “Listen to me, we break him now,” General Krivta said into Nake’s ear, “in front of everyone, advise them all of his errors and undermine his lack of leadership.”

  Julius looked down at his disruptive Onyx Office members, Krivta’s words carrying around like mumbled beats. What the holom was he up to?

  “I loved my father,” Julius started, but in that statement, he had gazed off into the distance, frozen. Did he really love his father? After everything he put him through? The torture? The uncompassionate worship? What was there to be thankful for? He was a Silkri Drake, a trained assassin, a tool to be used to destroy everything around him. No, he had hated his father. His obligation was to his people. To give them a better system and govern better than his father did.

  He had blinked just in time to unsheathe his blade. He felt his arm yanked away from him, but in a split-second recovery, Julius’s blade slid crossways and the lieutenant’s right cheek was split open. Julius swivelled to see Nake tumble down the stairs in bloody mess and confusion.

  The crowd gasped. The blade held in Julius’s hands was dripping blood and his knuckles were pulsing with white line fever.

  “Make it known here and now, I am your King!” he shouted, with all the might he had and the Silkri aura burst out of him in a huge five metre radius. “I reside in Sile and I will destroy those who even dare speak to me! DROP TO YOUR KNEES!” His neck was straining to the point his veins were pulsing out if it, and his spit had flown all over his cheeks and chin.

  “Oh my Silkri noggin, call me a Seevaar and give me bones to eat, I think he has officially lost it.” Caidus said, looking up at his cousin.

  Julius recuperated and cleaned his jawline, waiting for his beating heart to slow. He brought his eyes back to the Temple. The distress had set in, and one by one, they fell to their knees. Except … who was that in the corner laughing? Except … Caidus.

  “Dear cousin, did you not hear me?” Julius raised his voice in a polite tone.

  Caidus chuckled loudly, then stalked off to the side door exit.

  Julius scrunched his face up, boiling with rage from his cousin’s actions undermining him in front of the people. “Get up and get my room ready,” he snapped at Nake, who was pulling himself up off the carpet and fixing the candle holder he had knocked down. Julius did not even regard him doing so and went on: “Don’t make me wait, or I’ll take your eyes as I did the last prison thief … I’m sure you don’t want to lose another sensitive body part, Nake?”

  Julius felt something overcome him; he had seen it in their horrified expressions. They looked to him not in a disapproving manner but in a fearful one. He had, in part, become the person he promised he would never be. He was immobilised by the thought. What happened to his research on leadership? On reform? On socialism? Gone. A thought overtook him—he was becoming his father.

  “Don’t be a slave to the very evil you are trying to defeat.” Kaianan’s voice rang in his ears. He cursed himself for filling his vision with such distractions and patted his trunk down to steady himself. His chest settled in normal progression, his aura dropped away from him and he regained control of his temper while Nake scurried off.

  With precisely what he wanted, in not necessarily the way he wanted it, Julius, mechanically, looked to his people once more. “You’re warned. I will give you Rivalex, I burn for it: I ask you to burn for me in return.”

  “Here, here!” the audience cried.

  “Mages, descend the King,” he instructed, emotionlessly. His father’s body lowered into the Tomb of Temple and the audience watched in silence.

  Julius’s smile became frightening and wicked all at the same time. He headed back down the wooden steps, reaching out to Kydra, who battered her gold eyelids at him and placed her hand on his arm. They walked past the gawking faces of General Krivta, Metrix and Darlia, past the gobsmacked cousins of Ironbark, Blackwood and Skeletongrey, and out of the Previle Temple with grace. Julius was satisfied. They feared him. All he had to do next was realign his Sile governance …

  Chapter Twenty-One: A Liege Epilogue

  Kaianan spun on the spot to come face to face with the girl named Adrel. She’d walked right into her cell. For some odd reason, not only did they look similar, they were basically dressed the same; black slacks, white tunic, and an orchid chestplate on top. Adrel obviously not needing a steam clean, a wash up of blood, or a brush.

  “What are you two talking about?” she looked to Xandou through the bars then to Kaianan.

  “Nothing,” Kaianan bit back.

  Animosity was boiling under her skin. Xandou knew about Dersji Brikin? And what about being the sacrifice to open Holom’s Door? Her parents wanted that? She couldn’t believe any of it right now. Her mind was in shambles.

  “You know, I don’t know how that Mark came to be,” Adrel said, staring in the direction of her covered shoulder, “or the way in which you’ve been given this rule, but I don’t see how you feel you are destined for such greatness. It is just a prophecy. We are trained in Felrin to know we are the safety and protection of the universe, giving every planet and Star system a right to live freely. How you expect to surpass this is beyond logic. You are irrelevant in the Felrin hierarchy and in the Siliou for that matter.”

  “You seem a controlling kind, Adrel,” Kaianan smiled with her eyes, trying with difficulty not to look at Xandou.

  “Leave her alone,” Xandou sai
d.

  Kaianan immediately retorted. “Stay out of my business baby-faced blonde!”

  Adrel laughed. “Lovers quarrel?”

  Kaianan went to open her mouth but then thought the better of it. Xandou was an overprotective liar, she didn’t need to get him in trouble with the Felrin if it was just her they were after. The question sat with her though, what happens when there is that much deceit in a friendship that it leads it to the point of deterioration? No matter the longevity of it, there was an undertone of this being unfixable. Maybe when one person in the relationship changes greatly and tries to better themselves, the other just can’t comprehend it, perhaps out of jealously. Maybe it makes them feel insignificant. Maybe they hide their true feelings from you out of spite. Maybe they feel as though they are losing you.

  Maybe in amongst all the fake conversations and scripted communication, that last message, the one of honesty and truth is the only real thing they’ve ever said to you? Maybe Xandou had been stewing on this for too long. But where did the blame lie? In Kaianan completely ignoring him and shutting down his approaches of conversation, or in Xandou’s weak attempts to show his displease and withholding vital information from her in the process?

  It had to be in both of them. Life was not cordial all the time, and sometimes some friendships fade and become so much more effort than they used to be. Yet it’s about who’s willing to make amends, who’s willing to say sorry; to be hurt and then forgiving, and somehow move on through it …. through the large and painful lies, through the bitterness, through the previous control of the friendship and loss of it …

  Kaianan wasn’t sure if she was ready to do any of that just yet.

  “Hmm,” Adrel smiled, showing her brilliant white teeth, “you going to stand there spaced out all day? Liege Jarryd is waiting for you, move.”

  Kaianan nodded and breathed out.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Kaianan,” she listened to Xandou’s voice echo in her ears the whole way Adrel and four Giliou Shielders escorted her through the Edification centre and to the Forsda Palace.

  Kaianan only glanced at the various taller inner-city buildings of the Forsda capital as she was shepherded through a paved courtyard, full of Miry trees, and made to enter the square white stone building and turquoise domed roof of the Forsda Palace. Kaianan, flanked by the four Shielders, shuffled up the many white steps. Several Giliou Shielders, in military amour and Giliou attire stood aside to allow her entrance. Her aura was stripped from her the moment she walked through the front doors. Kaianan looked around to white high ceilings and azure suede walls like the room she had landed in earlier, but this room was full of gold-framed paintings of Giliou the Wise and his disciples. Kaianan had studied the Giliou with Xandou and at school back in Layos. They were a very selfless people back then. With her being locked up, she didn’t think they followed that mantra anymore.

  “Welcome, Queen,” the woman’s high-pitched voice sounded as the Shielders walked her into a dark candlelit room.

  Liege Jarryd, she could see in his Felrin whites, stood alongside a desk. Right at the back of the long room, behind the large Miry desk, the woman wearing the multi-coloured dress earlier was distraughtly pacing back and forth; a contrast to the dark midnight blue coloured walls. Kaianan hadn’t realised how overcrowded the room really was, with furniture scattered between several well-placed old bookshelves and a few undersized tables, and over fifty hanging pictures of the previous leaders—standing there felt like the chamber was closing in on her. She walked through the obstacles forward, then stopped when the Shielders did.

  “Leave us,” Liege Jarryd’s voice sounded, and the four Giliou Shielders departed.

  “Why are you here?” The woman said as her robes brushed back and forth nosily.

  Kaianan had no idea what was going through the hostile woman’s mind. “I am uncertain—”

  “Maya,” Ferak said sternly, “please leave us.”

  This was Queen Maya Atronix of Forsda? She stopped walking and huffed her mane of deep brown hair with her palm and finally faced Ferak Jarryd.

  “This is my chamber,” she said. Through the smidgen of light coming thorough the deep blue velvet curtains, Kaianan could see the woman’s huge silver headpiece pulling the never-ending brown hair up and around her whole head.

  “And you follow the Felrin,” Liege Jarryd stated coldly. “Leave us.”

  Liege Jarryd stared the woman down as she made an incoherent noise and paced through the rustic Miry furniture, lined with orange cushions behind the low-rise tables and between a few bookshelves, knocking into Kaianan’s shoulder on the way out.

  Kaianan kept her feet but was slightly less upset the Queen had knocked her and more terrified she was left alone with a Felrin Liege.

  “Rivalex Mark, come forward,” Ferak stated. Kaianan looked down, away from his dark ominous eyes glaring her down, and made her way to the desk he was standing beside.

  “So, miss Kaianan, firstly how did you end up in Forsda?”

  Kaianan felt her skin crawl when she analysed the dark-skinned Liege, he was scary. Those teeth, the cheekbones, when he spoke, he looked like he was going to attack her.

  “Not going to answer my questions? It would be wise, you did.”

  “I don’t know how I ended up here,” she said quietly.

  “Ah,” Ferak grinned, “I appreciate your honesty.”

  Kaianan knew he was lying. She tried not to give away her nervousness.

  “Why don’t you sit,” Ferak gestured his hand to the orange cushioned chair beside her. Kaianan did as she was told. “Good, now that you’re comfortable maybe you’ll want to answer the question again? About how you used ‘portation to arrive here?”

  There was no choice, Kaianan knew she couldn’t hold the information from him. “I can ‘port, so what? I don’t know how I do it, but I can.”

  “Would you look at that, you’re not as disobedient as I first thought.”

  “I’ll answer your questions, but I need you to answer mine too.”

  Ferak sniggered. “Oh, is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what questions do you have for me?”

  “Why are you after me? Or trying to kill me? Why would my people be in danger? Why did you give Xandou an ultimatum to stop protecting me?”

  Liege Jarryd moved himself around the room, his white robe flying around in his wake and he leant against the desk in front of Kaianan. “That’s a lot of questions, isn’t it, Rivalex Mark?”

  “And I want to know, what did you do to King Warlowes? Why is it I have discovered he went against the Felrin, not my people or the Giliou?” She took a quick breath, “and what about the Conductors? How do you coerce the gatekeepers to do what you want?”

  Ferak’s jaw clenched. “You’re asking all the wrong questions, my dearest.”

  “Will you tell me anything or just sit there and look smug?”

  His hand came out to hers quicker than she expected. Liege Jarryd squeezed her wrist so tightly Kaianan bent forward in pain.

  “Watch your mouth,” he said scathingly, “I know you better than you think, Menial.”

  “You give me that title because I’ve earnt it?” she got out through a tightened jaw.

  Kaianan heard him snort above her as he yanked her back upright in the chair. “I’ve brought you some supper,” he said, releasing her.

  What was this about? Ferak moved up and around the desk and pushed a bowl that had steam coming out of it toward her. Why didn’t she see this before? Or smell it?

  “Is it stew?” she asked excitedly.

  “Seevaar stew,” Ferak corrected her.

  Kaianan’s jaw dropped. Starvation hit her stomach. She wanted to eat it up.

  “Here you go,” Ferak handed her a spoon. Her eyes deviated from the white bowl full of soupy goodness to his glistening dark eyes under that oily black hair, “go on.”

  She swallowed and took the spoon. The stew was steaming up int
o her nostrils as she pulled the chair closer to get a whiff.

  “What have you done to it?”

  “Nothing,” Ferak said systematically.

  Kaianan hadn’t even waited for an answer really, she’d already dived in with her spoon and shoved a big dollop in her mouth, chewing away. It was better than anything she’d ever eaten. Maybe it was because after seeing Julius become King and get married to Kydra, and still adamantly declare his undying love for her, her emotions were all twisted. In addition, Xandou had confessed some pretty ridiculous notions, the fact she’d actually caught him out lying made her even more tense. She needed the taste of the stew to stop her brain from overthinking to the point of explosion.

  “Now,” the Liege said, “while you eat you must know that we are going back to Felrin.”

  “I – ve – ne – va – ben,” she managed to lie while she chewed on some Seevaar meat.

  Ferak grimaced. “Just listen and finish your meal … now Principal Prudence wants to meet with you regarding the Rivalex prophecy … obviously your people made up something about an ‘enlightenment period,’ which honestly is a complete hoax, but she would like to ask you some questions on it. Then we will be hoping to discover what exactly your transformation has set off.”

  Kaianan kept eating, she had no idea what happened when she transformed, but he was right, something must have happened, and she had a good feeling those backstabbing Necromancers, including Metrix knew exactly what was going on.

  “I must say,” Liege Jarryd said, after several minutes of just staring at her eat. “I’ve never seen someone eat so – so barbaric.”

  Kaianan, in between the last few bites, broth streaming down her chin, looked up. “So?”

  “You’re worse than your –” He stopped.

  “Who am I worse than?” Kaianan wiped her chin and dropped the spoon in the empty bowl.

  Liege Jarryd pursed his lips. “No one.”

  “Are you sure? What about my Liege, Dersji Brikin?”

  Ferak’s eyes flared wide. “Oh, so you do remember? Your memory still intact?”