by Bryant Reil
“I know about the spies, Kyla.” Lianaria let out a long, heaving sigh. “They were following orders not to interfere. Don’t blame them for doing their job. It is because of them we know what happened.”
“I’m not blaming them! I’m blaming the Queen!” There was a gasp from behind, and Kyla craned her neck around to see the Queen, two guards, and a maid. The maid stood wide-eyed, her hand over her mouth.
“What kind of stupid order was that?” Kyla shouted. “You know, you kept me there for three days, and I was all ready to talk to you. I know why you wanted me in the palace. I’m not an idiot. If you hadn’t kept me there so long, I might’ve been able to see him off before his trip!”
The Queen strode forward and knelt a few yards away. “I became wrapped up in other business. I apologize, Kyla. I know how difficult—"
Kyla pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Really? How? Was your dad murdered while someone was keeping you locked up in their house?” Her voice was rising, and lights appeared as curious neighbors gathered.
One of the Queen’s guards marched forward and pointed a spear at Kyla’s face.
“Do not address Her Majesty so,” he growled.
Kyla spat at the spearhead, though her attempt fell short, and was met with a smack across the face by the butt of the haft. The Queen barked for him to back away. Kyla’s fingers twitched around the handle of the knife at her waist. A rough, bark-like hand grabbed the knife away, but her eyes remained fixed on the Queen.
“Can’t control your own guard. Can’t keep your Kingdom together. We need a stronger Queen.”
The Queen stood and placed her hands on her hips and looked down ay Kyla with a scowl.
“Enough. I realize you are upset, Kyla Nim, but I shan’t tolerate your insults.”
Lianaria ran forward, kneeling by Kyla and placing an arm around her. “Please, Your Majesty! I’m sure she’ll feel better in the morning. Kyla, get yourself back into bed. I shall make you some tea.”
Kyla stood, shook herself off, and kept her eyes away from the Queen’s. She extended a hand to Aspen and gestured for her knife, and when Aspen backed away, Kyla stepped forward and snatched it. Eunoe stepped in front of her and looked ready to put Kyla in a trance, but Kyla raised a finger in warning.
“Don’t.”
Eunoe backed away, and Kyla looked at her mother.
“I’m going back to my room. No tea. Just leave me alone.”
She strode around the tree to the front of the shop, threw open the shop door, and climbed the ladder to the common room. As she stepped onto the bridge to her bedroom, she saw Hajar standing on a nest of blankets. Had she been sleeping outside Kyla’s door?
“Are you alright?” Hajar asked. “I can sing for you, if you like.”
“Out of my way.”
Kyla squeezed by, shoving Hajar against the tree, and slammed the door. She stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, her fingers caressing the knife in her hand. She rolled from her back onto her side. How could she sleep? Cold malice envisioned the bandits falling to her blade, again and again screeching for mercy and finding none. If she couldn’t find vengeance in her real life, she would live it over and over in her fantasy.
There was talking outside. Her mother, apologizing to the Queen. Queen Titania was a fine enough Queen, perhaps, but not suited for dark times. Times of death, and horror, and pain. It was only getting started. Would Kyla sell her soul to see a more powerful and capable Queen on the throne?
No. No politics. Let Sophrosyne sort herself out.
She cursed and kicked the blanket off her. How could she sleep? It crossed her mind to sneak out again, but she knew she’d only get a few miles out and get cold and come back. She didn’t have enough hatred yet. She needed to focus.
Burning, slashing, crushing, screaming. Bandits died in pain repeatedly, though the imaginations became dull after a time, and so her thoughts became darker and viler to pour fuel on her fury. She kicked at her bedpost, cracking it.
A low melodic voice came through the door. Kyla threw her knife at it, and it stuttered a bit as the blade clattered off the door, but the singing continued. No! The rage didn’t want to leave. It wanted to fill Kyla, to keep her motivated, to convince her that yes, only she cared enough about her father to seek out his killers and make them suffer. But it was so hard to…so hard to hate…
The melody drew the pain from her body. Kyla was still pure of heart, after all that? Thoughts of torture were slowly replaced with memories of her father. The time he taught her to skin a rabbit. Teaching her which mushrooms were safe to eat. Telling her stories late into the night when she was little and too scared of the dark to fall asleep alone.
Hajar’s voice ran like honey through the door, around the room, and through Kyla’s soul. How sweet it was, to feel such peace after feeling such rage! Hate abandoned her and was replaced with love. Love for her father, her mother, the Queen, and everyone who had come to the funeral. And, briefly, even for the bandits who had murdered her father, for who knew what terrible tragedies might have driven them to such desperation?
She couldn’t hate. This was how her father wanted her to feel. How disappointed would he be if he had been watching her outburst?
As the music softened, and slowed, and faded, Kyla could feel the peace and love being sucked from her body. But there was no hate left to take its place. Instead, it was sadness, and she tucked her face into her pillow and sobbed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Forgive and Forget
Kyla awoke to the sun shining directly through her window. Embarrassed by her recent behavior, she lay in bed several minutes before hunger convinced her that she did need to face her mother and Eunoe and Aspen sooner or later. She dressed herself slowly, peeking out her window to see royal guards rushing about with rolled-up tents and cooking pots. No sign of Queen Titania herself. Kyla needed to seek her out. It was time to tell her the truth.
But first, breakfast. She rushed to the family room. Hajar was inside eating a bowl of soup, and when she saw Kyla she poured another bowl and set it on the table.
“Good morning. Your mom went out to say farewell to the Queen. She isn’t mad at you.”
Kyla took a seat at the table. “My mom or the Queen?”
“Neither. They are worried, is all. I hope you are feeling better today. Your mom heard me singing last night. She said she really liked it.”
“Yeah.” Kyla looked at her soup. “I feel a lot better.”
Hajar frowned. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. I’m mad at you. You kidnapped me.”
“Yeah. We do crazy things when we’re desperate.”
Kyla nodded. She could understand a bit, after last night.
“I made this soup,” Hajar smiled suddenly. “Your mom said it’s your favorite. The Queen sent for the onions because nobody around here had any. One of your neighbors gave me some venison and herbs.”
Kyla sipped the broth. It was her favorite. Not as delicious as her mother’s, but good.
“Thank you.” She ate a few spoonfuls. “I guess everyone thinks I’m crazy now.”
“No. I mean, yes, I heard some people talking about you, but most people understand.”
Kyla stared down at the floor. She nodded, turned to her bowl, and she and Hajar ate in silence.
Kyla placed a stone on her father’s grave to complete the ring around the bed of drooping lilies of the valley that had been started by her mother. She could see by the family names carved into the other stones that the other guests, including the Queen, had already left their stones. It was a shame for his own daughter to be the last to pay her respects, but she was grateful she had come after the others when it was quiet and alone.
A tear dripped into the snow at her feet. She had marred his memory with anger and vengeance. In stories, it was common for a hero to swear vengeance on those who slew a friend or family member. But that was not the man her father was. He hadn’t enou
gh hate in his heart to wish anyone harm, even those who killed him.
There was snap and Kyla turned slowly to see Denzig, in his smaller form, approaching behind her.
“Pardon. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I wanted to say goodbye before I head back.”
Kyla flashed a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“Are you returning to Equinox?”
Kyla had wondered that herself. It would be proper to stay home for a few months to take care of mother and Bit, but she was sitting on secrets that needed attention. And, she had to admit to herself, she needed a distraction from the pain.
“I need to head back to speak with the Queen. She left before I had a chance to meet with her this morning.”
“Very well. A messenger from Aeolis was looking for you. I said I would pass the message along. Aura sends her regrets, and says you are not bound to come to her wedding. She shall find another maid.”
Kyla had nearly forgotten about the wedding. Aura needed her support. “Is the messenger still here? Let Aura know I’d still like to go.”
“The messenger has gone, but I shall see a message sent. If you need anything for yourself, let me know.”
“I will.”
Denzig stood in the snow. Kyla turned back to her father’s grave, but hearing no footsteps behind her, turned to see Denzig had not moved.
He stood, staring, at first motionless but then his wings began to flap slowly. She thought he would launch himself into the air, but he continued staring with focused, unblinking eyes.
“I don’t need anything at the moment,” she assured him.
“Alright.”
This time he did turn to leave, but Kyla stopped him.
“Oh! There is one thing. If you see Hajar, could you send her to me? I could use some of her music.”
Denzig nodded, and with a great blast of air, flew up over the trees.
***
Bremnos sat on a stump chewing his last bit of silage. The King’s forces set up tents in a circle around the hill. In the distance the towers of Niaga reached like fingers trying to grasp the clouds. It was the latest site of civil insurrection, though so far none of the city’s leaders had responded to the summons to meet with the King.
A demon boy came running across the grassy field toward the hill, holding a rolled-up message in his hand. Only he came from the opposite direction from the city. Perhaps there was an entry to the subterranean realms nearby. The squinting boy certainly seemed as though he had just popped out of the dark halls below as he shielded his eyes from the sun with his free hand.
The soldiers standing guard at the perimeter questioned the lad, and did a quick search for weapons, though few weapons could harm Oberon. He was waved through, and Bremnos was ashamed to hear a few of the soldiers cuss at him as he ran by.
He ran up the hill, panting heavily, and Oberon waved one of his personal guards to bring the boy some water. The boy dutifully knelt and held out the letter and refused drink until it had been passed to the King.
Oberon broke the seal. Arcs of crackling magic popped about his body as he read, his face falling grave.
Oberon looked up at General Agrimarch. “Sventali has declared war.” He extended the letter to the ogre, who snatched it from his hand.
This seemed a surprise to the messenger-boy, who knelt wide-eyed and began to shake.
“No fault of yours, boy,” the King assured him. “When you see your Lord again, tell him the message was well delivered.”
The body hesitated, perhaps in some disbelief, though he stayed put. Disciplined, if a bit jumpy.
King Oberon handed the letter to General Agrimarch, whose eyes glanced over it in half a second before slowing to pass over the text another time. Without looking, he growled and handed it to Bremnos.
The text was written with flowing calligraphy which glowed an orange-red.
The nation of Phlogiston and the Alliance of Embers hereby render to Oberon of High Haven this Writ of Non-Confidence for failure to contain threats on the World of Order and on lying to the subjects of Order regarding the recent assault by Erebus, son of Chaos, and his armies.
We, the New Alliance of Achathorm, demand King Oberon and Queen Titania immediately relinquish the throne to Aethelwyne of Issil-den-Aya, the Royal Heir, to serve as the new Queen of Order under the tutelage of Sventali the Purge.
The New Alliance will mobilize in seven (7) days’ time to secure the Royal Palace and oversee the coronation of Aethelwyne in High Haven. To avoid loss of life, we, the signatories of this declaration, demand the following:
i) The immediate written and public resignation of King Oberon and Queen Titania, with all court advisors to be suspended until appointments for a new Court are determined by Aethelwyne, Sventali, and the Alliance of Embers; and
ii) Release of all intelligence regarding the movements, forces, activities, and other relevant information regarding Erebus and other forces of Chaos to the Alliance of Embers; and
iii) Written assurance from Generals of the Royal Army, Royal Admirals, and any officers with access to Top Secret documents, be they military or political, that they will uphold and support Aethelwyne and Sventali the Purge and the Alliance of Embers, and provide the aforementioned with all such documents as well as authority of command over any and all personnel subject to said officers.
Failure to comply to the demands contained in this Declaration will result in the forceful expulsion and/or imprisonment of any resisting parties.
Sventali the Purge
Samiel of Kath
Tareak Meristhones of Embers
Ugwith the Flesh-Render
Bremnos knew Sventali only by reputation. He was fierce, but had always been loyal, though he never participated in the affairs of the surface world.
“Opportunist?” Bremnos wondered aloud. “Or afraid?”
Oberon crackled as lightning arced around his body. “Both a coward and a traitor. We need to return. Agrimarch, I hand you authority to act on my behalf here. Be prepared for the order to return to High Haven.”
“Do you give in to his demands?” the ogre growled.
“What do you think?” Oberon’ voice snapped like a whip.
Bremnos grabbed his axe. “Rather die fighting than see you humiliated, Your Highness.”
General Agrimarch, whose face was taut and wrinkled in anger, ground his teeth. “Yes,” he nodded. “We shall feed him the fat of his fallen sons and daughters.”
The messenger was now visibly trembling. “Sventali has no offspring, Sir.”
Bremnos spat on the ground. “Then tell him he shall feast on his own entrails, and I’ll see to it he doesn’t miss a bite.”
The boy nodded, and as soon as Oberon handed him a notice of receipt, he turned and ran and didn’t look back.
***
“Kyla!”
Aspen waited for a reply but again heard nothing. There was movement at the corner of the science building, but it was just the blue-skinned groundskeeper. Kyla had scarcely left her dorm since returning from Aspengrove three days ago. Aspen was happy to let her mourn in peace, but if she wanted to come to the wedding, she needed to be fitted for dresses and shoes.
Eunoe swooped down on Castor, who tucked in his wings as he landed and trotted to a halt. “She’s at the creek by your grove. The one with the hickory tree. I’ll go get her.”
“No. I’ll do it. You go to the tailor. We’ll meet you there.” Eunoe often lacked the gentle approach Kyla needed right now.
“Fine. See you in a few.” Eunoe squeezed her knees against Castor and he leaped back into the air, a passing gnome ducking under the tiger’s wings.
Aspen marched passed the Arts building on the way to the creek. The campus population was sparse compared to last term. There were a few dwarves sitting on the steps to the theater, and off in the distance she spotted Saul and Lili sitting on the ground having lunch. An orc and a centaur walked by in a heated argument over the best way to purify light. A harpy flew
overhead, a bag of books dangling precariously from her talons.
The snow at Equinox had melted or been cleared, and Kyla sat in a patch of mud and brown grass on the other side of the brook. Her eyes raised a moment as Aspen approached, and she offered a flimsy wave before tossing a rock into the brook with a satisfying ploink. Next to her was the old sack in which she kept her rock collection. Unlike most collectors, Kyla did not collect them for beauty, but for the memories they held. Her rocks were a journal of time spent with her family.
The bridge was a distance away, so Aspen hiked up the hem of her skirt and waded into the water. It was cold, but not deep. Kyla cast her another glance and hurled another stone into the freezing brook. Aspen marked where it landed.
She kicked the water from her legs and sat next to Kyla.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting rid of my garbage.”
“These are your memories.”
“No.” Kyla pointed at her head. “My memories are in here. And you know what? They can be wiped at any time. And if that happens, do you know what these rocks become? Stupid, plain, useless rocks.”
“What are you talking about?”
Kyla tightened her lips. She had a secret, Aspen could see, but was unwilling to share. Probably something about her mysterious patron, though Aspen found herself strangely drawn to Sophrosyne.
Another rock spun in Kyla’s hand before being sent on its unwanted way into the freezing brook. Aspen again noted where it landed.
“The tailor needs to fit us, Kyla. If you still want to go to the wedding, that is. I shall let Aura know if you have changed your mind. Eunoe’s gone ahead.”
Kyla picked up another rock and threw it. “This won’t take long.” She threw another, and another. “I’m sorry I went crazy the other night. I’m glad you were there to stop me. I was being stupid.”
Aspen watched in silence as Kyla threw rock after rock until she dug out the last one, hidden in a corner at the bottom, and tossed it into the water.
“Want a sack?” She tossed the empty bag at Aspen’s feet. “I don’t need it for anything.”
