Twisted is the crown

Lahle

IT FEELS LIKE A SWORD twisting in my gut. The pain is never ending, gushing out in waves and waves. Deyko’s coarse fingers hold me tight, shield me from the sight of his bloodied corpse. As the tears keep flowing, it fills me with an emptiness. No matter how much I cry, no matter how many tears I shed, it’s not going to bring him back.

I’ve lost mom.

Now I’ve lost dad too.

“Its ok, Lahle. Its ok.” Deyko tries to soothe me. “Just, calm down. Please calm down.”

I don’t feel anything. It feels like I’m slipping away. Deyko’s words slur and mix together and aunt Niera’s hollow screams paint the pictures for my nightmares. I let myself slip away, not wanting to feel anything. The tether begins to untie, slowly and slowly, until I’m drifting in a sea of darkness.

Even in the darkness, the pain continues. The knife twists once more in my heart and blood surges out, tainting the blackness with red. Vomit lurches up my throat, and slowly, my consciousness returns.

“Its not, its not,” I writhe out of Deyko’s grip as I stand. Smooth like the waves I move, gliding over the polished marble floors towards the throne room. His corpse seats propped up on the ancient gold and rhinestone chair, blood dried and pasty.

In his hollow eyes, I see the man who drunk just a little bit too much wine yesterday. I see the man who would take us skiing. I see the man who pulled me up when I fell down. Slowly, my body is overcome with an emotion I can’t describe. Its like a thousand needles digging into my skin.

“Lahle, are you ok?” Quillion moves from the other side of the ornate throne room to stand beside me. I don’t turn back to look at him, my eyes wandering. The diamond chandelier above flickers in its topaz light. Tapestries painted on the wall feel lifeless now. Meaningless. I wish more than anything that I could burn this room to the ground.

“Lahle?”

I turn and stare at Quill. His eyes are sunken, and he looks like a cross between frustrated, sad and tired. His dark red suit is far too big for his lanky body, and it makes him look even smaller and more distant than he usually does.

“Are you ok?” he asks me, fingers tracing the gooseflesh on my skin. I pull my hand away, hiding it between the rich silk of my kaftan. He sighs, and I do nothing more than sniffle.

“I’m fine.”

“Lahle—”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not that stupid, sister.” He says, voice weary. “I know this is horrible but the guard are out looking for the people that did it—”

“Screw the guard.” I wipe the spittle from my lips. “I want to be out there looking. I can’t just be here. I cant.”

Lady Niera moves from her position resting against the wall. The patterns on her embroidered kaftan refracts the glow of the light from the diamond-glass above. She takes my palms in hers, and suddenly, the air in the too stuffy room grows damp.

“Lahle, you...” she shakes as she tries to settle herself. “You need to calm down. The people who did this might still be in the palace. If it takes any longer to find them, we will be moved to the tribe elder castles.”

“What?” I seethe, wrenching my arms from her grasp. She sighs, huffing. “He was my brother, Lahle. My own flesh and blood. I hate this more than any of you here. But you dying by running outside and trying to be heroic is not going to help things. Do I make myself clear?”

“Aunty Niera—”

“Ṣe Mo sọ ara mi di mimọ?” She says, voice strong and resilient. Do I make myself clear?

She stares at me, eyes open and stark, waiting for my reply. I grip the hilt of my sheathed sword to steady my emotions, and it feels like a betrayal to choke these words out.

“I will stay.”

“Good.” She says harshly. Both Deyko and Quill raise their heads to look at her, and the sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We can only pray to the gods that his soul passed in peace.”

“God’s don’t exist.” Deyko says, stumbling as he stands up from his crouched position on the floor. Its obvious Lady Niera doesn’t agree with him by the way she narrows her eyes at him, but he doesn’t care. Out of the royals, Niera has always been the only Aeoli. She believes that gods exist, and that they gave us the gift of magic. Everyone else is a fierce Daegon. Like myself, we believe there are no gods. We believe the ether that we draw magic from powers our existence.

“Hush your mouth.” Niera says, pacing around the room. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the grandiose oak doors to the throne room are opened. Its not the guard carrying daddy’s murderer, unfortunately. It is instead a group of servants carrying a stretcher while a guard stands watch. They carry dad’s body and place him on the stretcher, covering him with a pale white cloth. I see a few of them dot tears from their eyes as they push the stretcher outside the doors and close it behind them.

I feel something break inside me. Its final. He’s not coming back. A ghost of a laugh escapes my lips. Why did I even think otherwise? Because he was on his throne at least it felt right. Now, his body is gone. The large gold painted throne sits empty, father’s gold crown placed on a velvet cushion at the seat. I try not to think of how Quill has to take the throne now. He’s only nineteen. There’s so much work ahead. So much to right this unspeakable wrong.

It feels like hours again before the throne room doors open once more. Ten members of the royal guard, including captain Kahn, walk inside, booted feet pounding against smooth polished floor. They’re dragging a man on the floors, and I can hear his cries as they set him onto the floor. One of the guardsmen closes the throne room door.

Niera, Quillion, Deyko and I walk up to the man hidden behind scarlet uniform wearing guards. You could cut the tension in the stuffy room with a knife.

They part as we move forward, the last man being Kahn who stands behind the prisoner to prevent him from escaping. Quillion tries to stand tall, and almost succeeds. If I didn’t know better I would think he wasn’t affected by this at all. Niera is the first to ask.

“Is this...the man who did it?” She asks Kahn quietly. Kahn nods, the wrinkles on his dark skinned face contracting. The man before us is about six feet tall, chained with devils iron. I can see the hot metal searing his skin, but I want nothing more than to press it down and watch him writhe beneath me.

Quillion doesn’t say anything, staring the man down. A few seconds pass like this, with nothing happening. Despite the size of the room, I almost wish I could open a window.

That’s why I’m more than surprised to hear Quillion’s fist connecting with the man’s temple.

The sound of the punch echoes through the room as dad’s assailant is pushed to the ground on Quill’s command. The man screams and pleads in objection, but the men tighten the devil’s iron to make him comply. Sweat dots his skin as he stares up at us with horrified brown eyes.

“I will ask you this only once,” Quillion says, his voice dark and grave. Despite the facade he puts up, I know both Deyko and I can still hear the quivering boy behind the mask.

“—who sent you?”

The murderer on the ground doesn’t answer, his skin smoking against the burning iron. The guards bring out a metal stick from a small bucket. The edge of the rod is dripping with what seems to be molten lava. I know I’m meant to feel something, maybe pity, but the only thing that runs through my mind is hatred.

“Give it to me.” I outstretch my hands.

The guards stare at me, and without another word I reach for the rod dripping hot and molten metal. I kneel before the killer, and bare my teeth as I show him the nearly flaming edge of the rod.

“Talk or I burn you.”

He whimpers, but doesn’t say anything. He screams in agony as I press the molten edge of the rod on his fresh skin. Some of the liquid heat trickles down his arm like water, charring and burning the flesh.

Deyko’s foot presses onto the man’s ribcage. When he doesn’t answer, Deyko increases the pressure.

“Talk or we will make every day after this one a living nightmare.” Quill’s voice is barely audible over the murderer’s petrified screams.

“Fine! Fine!” He screams, and I release the pressure on him. Deyko lifts his feet, and the man coughs as he struggles to sit up on the ground. Aunt Niera is almost in tears, and from the side of my see I see Deyko hold her hands to comfort her.

I still hold the lava stick in case he tries to run for it, but the stern look Kahn gives him ensures to me that wont happen. This man is a human, most likely. If he was a Jiakka, he would have used his affinity to kill father, not an arrow.

“Q-Queen Mitaldra.” He stammers. “It was her.”

“Liar!” Niera shrieks, and for once, I agree with her. Queen Nikka Mitaldra of Vahaltmir has always been an ally of Gaia. She and father were meant to discuss today.

My grip on the iron rod tightens. “Do you want to get burned again?”

“I’m not lying! I’m not, I swear!” he stammers, trying to move away from me. The guards, however, hold him in place. His eyes are filled with fear. I find myself smiling.

“I swear. Queen Mitaldra. She, she sent me. She gave me the ruby arrows I was to use to kill him! She sent two of us, but the other left. I’m serious...that woman, she is not as she seems.”

After a few moments of silence, Niera is the only one with enough willpower to speak. “How do we know you’re not lying?”

The man whimpers as he speaks. “Check my pouch. The leather one. Queen Mitaldra wrote a letter. She even stamped it with Vahaltmir’s royal seal. She wanted you to know it was her.”

As if on cue, Kahn takes a worn leather pouch from one of the guard’s in the crowd. He dumps its contents onto the ground, and sure enough, a letter worn by time sits amongst his rubbish.

Niera grabs the letter, her eyes scanning its contents. A look of shock crosses over her face, but I’m to engrossed in my own pain to think about it.

I fall back, my knees bucking as they hit the ground. I don’t know whether to cry or to scream, but one thing I am sure of is the fact that if I could rip my own hair from my scalp, I would.

“Take him to the dungeons and keep him there.” Quillion’s voice echoes. The men nod, grabbing him with force.

He cries, refusing, and the guards have to tug on his burning iron chains to get him to finally move. He leaves a trail of blood in his wake.

Once they are gone, Kahn steps forward. “Nobody outside the palace walls knows yet. Not even the elder houses. We can spread the word, or—”

“We need to hold an assembly.” Niera says. “If it is truly Queen Mitaldra that sent him as he claims then we can’t waste any time. Inform the elder houses.” Kahn bows. “The elder houses will all be informed before sundown.”

Niera nods, and a blanket of silence hangs around the room the second Kahn leaves. I’m still on the ground, staring at my distorted reflection on the floor. I would give anything to wake up and have this all be a dream.

Quillion sighs, walking up the steps to the dais where the larger than life throne sits. He’s going to be king now. I can’t imagine how scared he must be. To hold all that power.

“Quillion, dear.” Niera says, facing the pane glass windows at the far end of the room. They’ve been painted on, so barely any light still streams through them. “I’ve made an informed decision.”

“Which is?” he asks from atop the marble dais.

“That my son takes the throne.” What?

I look up from the ground and sure enough, Quillion and Deyko are just as confused as I am. Niera moves towards us from the painted glass, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Its not personal. I believe Deyko is older and will make a better leader than you. I truly mean no offense.”

“If this is some sort of joke—” I begin, but she cuts me off, looking straight at Quillion, who now stands directly beside his throne. I cant make out what Quill is thinking. Either he’s masked it very well or he isn’t even thinking at all.

“Deyko is more matured, Quill. He’s older. More agile. Better with a sword. And the people like him.”

“Mother—” Deyko begins in objection, but she cuts him off as well.

“Be quiet.” She says, moving closer and closer to the throne. The jewels dangling from her ears catch the glint of the diamond chandelier. In that second, she looks almost otherworldly.

“So I hope you understand my statement—”

“No.” Quillion says, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. Deyko looks at his mother with a face of disgust, and even though I cant see my own expression, I’m sure its deathly similar.

“See, Quillion, I wasn’t really asking.”

“Neither was I.” Quillion says, standing. “My father, your brother, just died, and all you can think about is the throne? What is wrong with you?”

“You will watch your tongue.” Niera says. She stands a few inches shorter than Quill, but she still commands respect wherever she goes. As Quill towers over her, she doesn’t even flinch.

“If I need instruction, Lady Niera, I will ask for it.”

The two stare each other off as my vision shifts to the painted pane glass. Its dark outside, but beyond the blanket of stars and the rising moon, something with a tail of fire cuts through the night.

My eyes widen.

I scream, but its too late.

An explosion rocks the very foundations of the palace. The gold encrusted side tables holding small obsidian candelabra fall to the ground, and wild flame begins to burn the velvet curtains that reach high up into the sky.

We’re under attack.

Deyko runs to hold his mother as Quillion races to meet me. He pulls me up from the ground, holding me tight as another tremor shakes the palace. The diamond chandelier high up on the ceiling snaps, rocketing towards the ground. Quillion and I push Deyko and his mother away towards the oak door as the diamond frame explodes against the marble.

Shards of diamond and wicks of flame fly around the room. Niera screams, and I nearly yell as one of the rogue shards slashes the skin on my cheek. Quillion and I hold each other close, bodies trembling.

“Is...Is it over?” Deyko says.

“Watch out!” Niera wails as she holds her son down.

With a massive groan, another explosion hits. The pane walls implode in on themselves, glass shards flying in every direction. I see one of them slice Niera clear across her arm, but she doesn’t even have time to scream as the royal guard burst open the doors of the throne room.

“Protect the monarchy!” they chant orders as they circle around us with their tough iron armour, protecting us. With them keeping us safe, we begin our descent.

“Where are we going?” I scream amidst the ensuing pandemonium. Servants swarm around, yelling as they try not to get killed. In the process they trample on one another, bone breaking and sweat dripping.

“Primary mission is to get you out of her safely, princess.” A guard says back. From his voice I can tell its Kahn in his full fighting gear. Unsheathing my sword, I continue moving forward. Cant be completely defenseless.

Suddenly, it feels like the ground gives away beneath our feet. We all fall as the very foundations of the palace groan to stay in place. I hear an explosion go off somewhere below, and the horrible smell of flame finds its way to my nose.

Once this wave of tremors stop, the guardsmen huddle round us again, and we begin moving at a much faster pace. Some other members of the guard are trying to get the servants and other palace staff members out safely. Its chaos.

By the path we’re taking I can already tell we’re using the back exit to escape. The tremors hit worse on the lower floors of the palace than on the higher floors, and upstairs I hear another chandelier fall to the ground.

We pass the hallway that leads to the dome, and I notice that the explosions have hit here too. From where I stand I can see the gaping hole atop the structure. Once I see it, I cant bring myself to continue.

“Lahle,” Quillion says, turning to me. The guard stop, motioning for me to continue moving.

“I—Il be back. You guys move forward!”

“Lahle!” Niera tries to grab at me but I’m already down the hall before she can. I muster all the strength in my body and run, my kaftan blowing in the wind behind me.

The gates to the dome have already fallen, and if another bomb hits the structure might be destroyed entirely. Inside is dark, shadows twisting onto the glass like monsters. Above the dome, the night sky lights up with destruction.

“Aaliyah!” I shout, my feet bare against the diamond floors. I don’t remember taking them off, but it only makes sense that I did. The Pawdwa fish have stopped glowing. They can sense the danger.

“Aaliyah!”

The small Fikawa untangles herself from the artificial underbrush and scampers towards me, resting its head on my shoulders and mewing. I wrap my hands around it and hoist it up, carrying it. In the sky, I see another tail of fire heading towards us.

I cover the cat sized Fikawa’s eyes as I run, my bare feet pounding against the diamond floors. A c***k beneath my feet stops me in my tracks. Fear clutches my body in its skeleton grip as my eyes flutter to the translucent floors.

A long c***k spreads out like a spider web on the diamond, reaching in all directions of the large room. If I take a single step, I fall. If I don’t, I will still fall. An eruption rocks me of my feet and I land face first onto the ground. My bones and muscles are sore as the diamond under my feet groan. I close my eyes hoping the floors don’t c***k open.

However, once Aaliyah’s paws touch the ground, it implodes beneath us. I am plunged into the tank like a thief on a trader ship, and shards of diamond lodge themselves in my legs and throat. The pain is so immense I cant scream. I cant do anything but watch myself float down to the bottom.

Aaliyah mews, swimming up for oxygen, but the pain from one of the shards stabbing into my leg prevents me from swimming. My blood stains the Pawdwa tank as I sink lower, clawing, reaching for the edge.

Aaliyah’s mews as she tries to help me from above are quietened by the sounds of water, and it then hits me that the moonlight streaming into the pool may be the last thing I see.

I claw at my own throat for air as with all my remaining strength I try to summon my ability. I open myself to the ether, my vision blurring as I lose more and more precious oxygen. The magic coursing through my veins fills me with new life as the water around me takes form according to my will. Pain sears in my sore bones as I use my tiding abilities to change the current of the water, pushing me to the top of the tank.

My mouth opens instantly when I break the surface, tasting the sweet air. Tears stream down my cheeks as I use Aaliyah’s scaly tail as an anchor to lift myself out from the tank and into the hallway.

Dripping wet, I hug the small Fikawa, laughing at myself. I could be dead right now, my body left to rot at the bottom of a fish tank.

After a few seconds used to calm myself down, I start moving towards the back exit. Aaliyah mews in my palm as I find the rest of the guard inside the stables. Outside is almost as bad as inside. Innocent people trudging around the thick blanket of snow, trying desperately to survive.

“Get on one of the horses, Lahle.” Deyko says. I can see the glint in his eyes. He knows something happened, but now is not the time to discuss such things.

I mount a silver stallion and keep Aaliyah concealed in the small pouch of the saddle. The guard will ride in front of us and behind us, to make sure none of the assailants can get us from any angle.

Yet another explosion rocks the ground. The horses struggle to stay afoot as they race through the snow. From here, the air holds the metallic taste of blood. The sky is open and dark, a beautiful one, contrast to the destruction happening right beside us.

Our steeds gallop out of the broken down walls of the palace. I turn around, gaping as I notice the palace sinking ever so slowly into the side of the snowy mountain. When another explosion goes off, it lights the night sky with bright orange. I cringe, closing my eyes and waiting for it to stop. When its over, the palace shifts even lower, and I swallow as I realize I cant see the dome again. Either its been destroyed, or it has sunk with the bottom half of the palace.

We ride into the night, all of us. My muscles feel sore, and my voice is hoarse from screaming, tiding and crying. My mother. Then my father. Then my home. Gone with a burst of flame and ember.

My grip tightens on my horse’s reins. In this moment, I want nothing more than to see Mitaldra’s head on a stake. Tears burn my skin as we ride away, down the cliff side and into the forest of mammoth trees.