‘Congratulations Kira,’ added the queen, reverently kissing her on the cheek. It was almost maternal, a loving event that made Kira’s thoughts suddenly develop a new theory. She was not here as some arbitrary slave, or a mistress, she was not another faceless piece of the machine that was the palace, another cog in its gears, she was being groomed by the queen, tested, drawn through experience, carried somewhere for a reason.
The door closed as the queen departed, and Kira suspected more fully that she was here as the prodigy of the queen, an adopted daughter to carry on her legacy when the time of changes came.
The apocalypse was looming, the end of days, the beginning of eternal night, and Kira was ready to face whatever her destiny might be with distinction… after she had taken suitably apt revenge on the three miscreants before her, of course.
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