A Witch's Word

MEMORIES OF MORTALS

It was too late to cast a protection spell. Dragon magic was complex and organic, therefore she was unsure if there was any answer against a power so ancient. Edith realised that more than three hundred people were waiting to watch her skin bubble. This whole occasion had been planned for this moment. They feared the influence she had exercised and the way the people loved her. Their only response to that was to scar her face and let the message burn into her memory. Edith could manipulate fire, but this wasn’t as simple as an everyday flame. The dragon eggs were nurtured in the volcano and Edith could inherently feel the protective layers of magic that had been imbued into the craft, whether there was a Goddess or not, the thread of spells cast called to her and, therefore, she knew that her ability with flame wouldn’t be comparable to the love that had manifested in the stones.

Cadmus handed his offering to the Dri, not a blemish upon his skin. The thud of a warm stone hitting the tin sounded hollow as she stepped to where her husband had been standing. Shuffling from the audience grated against her as she could feel their anticipation slavering against her back. Cadmus held out his hand, encouraging her to step closer to the altar, for anyone looking on they would have assumed it was his eagerness to have his wife humbled before them after the many embarrassments she had brought to their marital agreement, but she could see he was worried. This had Nokon’s and Lizzip’s father’s stink on it. Placing her hand in his, she clung on; it was the first time in a long time she had felt overwhelmed, and she could even acknowledge through her pride that they were two young people fighting a battle that their parents started.

The Dri plunged his hand into the stack of rocks and pulled one from the middle, the glow of lava swirled within it still. Hesitantly, Edith reached her hands forward, missing the comfort of Cadmus’ gesture as he let go, but the sensation that reached her first wasn’t in her palms, but on her chest. A comforting coolness that emitted from the jewel on the necklace that her sister, Tabitha, had gifted her.

“Wear it always, it will keep you safe.” Her words and love were vibrant in Edith’s memory.

A shift that was palpable had been noted, as if the smoke switched allegiance and ran through the temple back to Edith like a balm of defense. The malicious intentions of the Dri were clear as he pushed the stone deeper into the skin of her palm, but Edith shone with the glow of her protection. Despite the disbelief of the courtiers, the disappointment of the Dri’s hunched shoulders and the slope of his expression thrilled her. She placed the rock on her forehead, cheeks and then kissed it. Only feeling a slight warmth. Taking the rock, she brushed past the Dri and threw it into the bucket. It didn’t sound like a hollow thud this time, but rather the sound of relief. Reaching for Cadmus once more, she made sure that she acted the part of a loving bride, and as if it had been previously planned, he kissed her knuckles and led her back to their seat. She sounded out the plethora of reactions from all those around her. She was indifferent to how they feared or respected her, but she pressed her hand against the necklace, knowing it had saved her, and contemplated the letter she would write to her sister praising her craft as the adulations continued.

Tediousness had made Edith feel uncomfortable for hours, but finally the silver vessel was full, and Nokon stood and led the procession out of the temple. The cooler air from the palace was welcome, but Edith knew that her dress would need peeling off her later; the moister had welded it to her skin. The cheering of the crowd was euphonious as they called out for Princess Edith and Prince Cadmus. Deep satisfaction resonated within Edith. For all their scheming and cruelty, she had emerged as popular as ever. Not one voice called out for the emperor. The curtains were pulled back by the guards and the balcony extended out over the crowds below. Lou was waiting at the edge of the inner room, offering a subtle nod confirming all their earlier plans had been set in motion. It wasn’t the volcano that erupted as Cadmus and Edith waved at the crowd, but the undiluted outburst of hopeful joy from the people. The irony wasn’t lost on the princess of dragons and daughter of witches that the Dri stood on one side of her and the despotic emperor on the other. Two of the most powerful men across all the lands and they were merging into the background, their names not a mention on the voice of popularity.

“Kiss!” A voice called out, and the sentiment swept across the hoard of citizens.

Cadmus, turned towards her. Unsure of how to proceed. Edith considered the horns on her head that had been twisted from her hair and had long gone past the point of an uncomfortable headache. Her clothes were oppressive. It was a costume from a time long ago. She wondered which queen had worn it last. Actresses wore costumes, and Edith knew she was ready to play this part for the benefit of her family and the revenge she so desperately needed for her grandmother. Stepping closer to her distant husband, she tilted her head towards him. Hush fell over the crowd. Unable to settle on a decision, the dread that he would reject her and humiliate her was gnawing at the back of her mind. This was the way they were with each other, rocking back and forth between occasional kindness and consistent hostility. Pulling his doublet towards her, she smacked their lips together, ferocious and filled with wrath and determination. The crowd celebrated thunderously and soon Cadmus placed his hand on her waist and pulled her closer. Their first kiss was made from distrust and deception and tasted sharp and sour; Edith liked the flavour. It was honest if nothing else. She made sure to smile as they parted, waving to the crowd and thanking them for their support. A completely different picture to the one she arrived to.

Holding her hands out to the people, Edith stepped forward, waiting for their attention. Adoringly, they gazed up at her waiting to hear her announcement.

“My husband and I have planted an enduring peace with our union. We wish to extend our good fortune and thank you for your gracious acceptance of me. I give all of you the gift of seeds. May everyone be able to grow something that will keep their bellies full and their hearts lighter.”

Stunned, the courtiers could be heard muffling their outrage at such an expense. Lou had arranged for maids to be placed in the crowd so that the gifts could be easily handed out. Some clutched the item to their chest; others stared at it in disbelief. It was a small gesture. Minor on the scale of what she wanted to achieve to help these people, but it was taken with the spirit she had intended: their troubles would soon be lifted. Collectively, the crowd began to hum. It was a gentle tune at first that began to reverberate through the castle walls.

“It’s our empire’s anthem. It hasn’t been sung since my sister was taken from us,” Cadmus explained, worriedly.

The guards lowered their spears, pointing them at the people who were lost in the lyrics of home and pride.

“The song has been banned by my father, never to be sung until our princess returns,” he elaborated, seeing her confused expression.

Nokon’s face was red with pigments of blood vessels bursting in belligerent rage. Waving his hands, he gave commands for the guards to attack, but they were reluctant to hurt so many in such a confined space.

Looking for Lou, she made out his slim shape near the castle gates. He was pulling on a rope desperately trying to open the lid to the coffin that the crowd was soon to be trapped in if they weren’t encouraged to leave. Some of the maids were helping usher the public out. The guards, seeing an option to avoid bloodshed, turned their spears sideways and maneuvered the people back to the town. The gate creaked open just in time. Edith hadn’t realised that she had grabbed Cadmus’ hand until she felt Nokon push her to the edge of the balcony.

“You are not the princess we have lost, and you never will be!” he whispered as if talking about his daughter burnt his throat.

Ignoring everyone standing watching the admonition, he stormed into his study. Cadmus squeezed Edith’s hand. A small gesture of support in the face of a bigger adversary before he followed his father, leaving her alone. It was then that she recalled that her 'husband' had no idea that she would be protected by her sister's gift and had willingly allowed her to touch the stone anyway. The kiss was a political strategy and the inaction was a reminder of why she had to stay true to Sourcero's interests.

She didn’t join them for the banquet that night. Instead, she read the letter from Mother Maggie that was delivered by a beautiful glass raven. It simply read, ‘find the queen’.