Princess of Ruin

Chapter 12 - Illnesses, Great and Small

Emery

No matter how many times I told myself that I’d been the one who wanted to tell Aria about my past, I still couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that now she was actually finding out everything. I’d never really planned to have this conversation with her - or anyone, for that matter - until I was either dying in that moment, or Elle decided that my time outside the palace was up. 

It most definitely was not helping that now I had both Aria and Mikela staring at me, wide-eyed and horrified. Or that every part of my body felt like it was burning. Or that Aria’s eyes were still glazed over with fever, and there was a good chance she wouldn’t remember much of this discussion, meaning that someone would have to tell the story all over again. 

“Emery, what did that woman mean when she was leaving, when she said she was only helping you die a bit faster?” Mikela asked, sitting on the coffee table so that she could look me right in the eyes. “And who was she? I’ve never seen her around campus before. Actually, why doesn’t someone just tell me what the hell is going on?”

“That was the queen of Ekta,”Aria said as she shifted in her chair so she didn’t have to crane her neck. She seemed oddly calm, as though the effect of everything that was going on had been somewhat lost on her, and she was only playing along with what she thought should be her reaction. Mikela, on the other hand, had gotten up again and was now staring at her friend.

“I’m sorry, what? What was she doing here?”

“She’s Emery’s mom.”

“She is not,” I said quickly, frowning. I really did hate it when people said that. Many of Elle’s advisors didn’t actually know who I was, so on the rare occasion that I was wandering the New Palace and one of them saw me, Elle always told them that I was just her kid. A lot of people even said we looked alike with our eyes and hair, though mine was white instead of blond.

“Then who is she to you?” Mikela demanded, folding her arms over her chest. A few of her dark braids started to lift into the air, making it look like she had snakes coming from her head.

“Elle is my guardian,” I said quite plainly.

“Then why is she trying to kill you? And why the hell are you wearing a bathrobe?” Mikela gestured angrily at my fluffy robe, which I instinctively pulled more tightly around myself. “I swear, I leave campus for an hour, and I come back to find the Queen of Ekta in our suite. You two are impossible, you know that?”

“I-I fell in the shower,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit. “And as for why Elle is trying to kill me, well, that is a long story.”

“Good thing we don’t have classes tomorrow,” Mikela snipped. Realizing that I wasn’t going to get out of this one easily, I sighed and turned to Aria.

“Aria, dear,” I said gently, watching as her head nodded and then snapped back up again. “Perhaps you ought to rest. We can tell you everything tomorrow.” She yawned and gave me a bleary look.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Mikela continued. “Go to bed.” Aria gave a little grunt in reply and stood up, stumbling off to her bedroom with her blanket trailing behind her. “Now.” Mikela’s face hardened as she sat down on the coffee table again and looked into my face. “Spill.”

“I suppose I should start at the beginning,” I said warily, unsure whether Mikela was mad specially at me or whether she was just irritated that she’d missed out on so much. Either way, I recounted to her everything that had transpired, from when Aria discovered me and my blackened handprint to when Mikela herself showed up.

“So what you’re telling me here is that you’re basically an invulnerable person who was taken in first by King Gabriel and then by Queen Elena, after she found you in the ruins of the Old Palace.”

“Yes.”

“If that’s true, then why does Her Majesty want you dead? The only reason I could see would be that she might not want you to be a target for the rebels, because if they got their hands on you, then that’d be an absolute disaster, but the likelihood of that happening seems pretty slim. The way I see it, there’s no reason why you’d be more valuable dead than alive.” I chewed on my lip for a moment, contemplating how best to explain this. 

“Mikela, have you ever heard of a tale called The Princess of Ruin?” She gave me a look like I was crazy.

“Of course I have. Everyone has. Queen Jezebel was the first of the Gifted, so in a way, The Princess of Ruin is our origin story.” I was a bit surprised by that information. For some reason, I’d never thought of the book in quite that light.

“Yes. It’s the story of the Mad Queen Jezebel, who got drunk on her own power and accidentally destroyed the world, leaving behind only the people who would go on to become the Gifted. At least, that’s how the story goes. My question is this: do you know what really happened?”

Mikela nodded, glancing up at the ceiling as though it might give her answers. “Yeah. Jezebel didn’t actually destroy the world. At least, not on purpose. And she didn’t destroy the whole thing, just a good bit of it. When she died, there was an explosion of destruction, wiping out everyone on the Island of Ruin, as it’s called now. You’ve probably never seen it, but if you’re heading towards the coast in that direction, you can see where the destruction stopped. It actually extends a few miles inland.” 

“I have been there,” I said, earning a raised eyebrow. “It was the only time Elle allowed me to leave the New Palace before I came here. I believe it may have been her version of justifying her actions.”

“Anyways, after Jezebel’s death, everyone else realized that they could never allow that incident to be repeated. They created the Tournament of Monarchs to decide rulers so that their future kings and queens would always be chosen based on merit and, hopefully, sanity. And when more of the Gifted began to show up, they created the Ektan Academy for Special Abilities to help people understand and control their gifts. Nowadays, this particular school is mostly for training the military, but back then, it was for everyone.” She paused, as though catching her breath.

“And then, during the rule of King Díaz, the fifth ruler of Ekta, the government came up with a new motto for the nation, one that would remind people of Jezebel’s rule and its horrors and yet also reassure them that such a thing would never happen again.”

“Et numquam erit nos cecidimus ad Inanis,” I murmured, the words feeling strange on my tongue. I hadn’t spoken them in so long, but they were forever ingrained in my brain. They were a reminder that my time was limited.

“Right. And never shall we fade to the void,” Mikela agreed, nodding her head. She flicked her hand casually, and a pot of coffee that she must have brewed while she was telling her story floated onto the table, along with two mugs. One of the mugs, the one with a black cat painted on it, floated into my gloved hands. I clasped it gratefully, breathing in the wonderful scent of coffee. I’d started to lose my sense of taste in recent weeks, but I could still smell, and I was going to enjoy it for as long as I could. 

Mikela took a sip of her drink and then paused suddenly, wide-eyed gaze snapping to my face. “Isn’t your original name ‘Inanis?’” she exclaimed, and I gave her a small smile.

“Gabriel thought himself to be quite the poet, don’t you think?” I took a sip of my coffee and extended it to Mikela, who put it next to her on the small living room table. “He believed that by simply keeping me secluded, he could prevent a recurrence of the Great Ruin. He was so very wrong.”

“Because you destroyed the Old Palace anyways, right?” I nodded. 

“I am unsure of whether or not they teach this portion of history in schools, but Jezebel’s death was not the first time she lost control.”

“Really? How do you know this?”

“I spent twelve years practically trapped in one building with very few people to interact with, Mikela. I have picked up a good deal of random knowledge in that time.”

“Right. Sorry. Please continue.”

“Anyways, her first outburst was when she was born. Jezebel killed her mother as she exited the womb. Naturally, everyone assumed that she simply died. After all, medicine was not what it is today, and many women died whilst giving birth. Jezebel’s second, explosion, however, was far less subtle.”

“The m******e of Kings,” Mikela breathed in sudden understanding. 

“Ah, so you know of it.”

“Of course I do. It was the only time in recorded history that representatives from all the nations of Terra convened peacefully. After Jezebel murdered them all, there was only Ekta left, after all. It’s said that the palace floors were scorched black by the m******e, and not even a bone was left behind by her destruction.”

“Exactly. Jezebel’s third explosion, of course, was the Great Ruin. What Elle is trying to prevent is having that happen again, except this time on an even greater scale.”

“And so you’re the one she has to protect everyone from, I assume?” I nodded. 

“No one is quite certain what I am, but there are some who speculate that I am some sort of reincarnation of Jezebel, some sort of last revenge. After all, we are practically identical, and we have the same ability. I was told once, by an especially odd fanatic, that I am a being sent by the gods to clear this world of sin. No matter what you believe, however, by all evidence, it seems as though I am headed down the same path as Jezebel.”

“But…the m******e of Kings didn’t happen until Jezebel was seventeen. You destroyed the Old Palace when you were only five. And in Jezebel’s outbursts, except for the last one, she only destroyed people, not buildings.” I gave her a meaningful look, and she put a hand over her mouth in shock. “Oh.”

“That is part of the problem. All evidence is pointing towards my having a far more destructive final outburst than Jezebel ever did, which a good part of Elle’s argument for killing me. Just like the first queen of Ekta, my body has begun destroying itself. And once it finally does that, then I will lose all semblance of control, and all the power within me will be released in one massive wave. If I am killed while I am still in control, however, then there will still be an outburst, but it will be much smaller.”

“Then forgive me for saying this, because I know your death will be a very sad event, but why are you still alive, if this is true? Queen Elena has had plenty of opportunities to kill you, and yet she hasn’t. Even if she feels bad about it, as a ruler she should have no qualms over killing one person to save her entire nation.” Mikela’s face was hard and determined, so much so that I raised an amused eyebrow. She caught my expression and immediately ducked her head, muttering, “No offense.”

“None taken. And in answer to your question, I am still alive because while my body is fantastic at dying, it is far better at preventing me from being killed. Elle has been trying her very hardest for years upon years. She’s tried to kill me two-hundred and seventy-nine times, to be more specific. Stabbing, shooting, poison, incredibly deadly illnesses. Nothing has worked.” 

I pointed to my side, continuing, “Remember the gunshots from the other day? Her assassins hit me three times. Only one bullet entered my body, and it only made it perhaps half an inch. The other two disintegrated on contact with my skin.” Mikela blinked, clearly trying to comprehend this madness. 

“Then why are you here?”

“Why am I where?”

“Here. At the academy.”

“Because a year ago, Elle practically gave up on attempting to kill me. And six months ago, the court doctor said I had less than a year before my death. She had run out of time, and as much as she did not put much stock in the idea, having me control my ability was her last hope to limit the number of deaths. So she pulled some strings and sent me here.” 

Mikela stared at me for a moment longer before shaking her head and pushing herself up to a standing position. “I’m going to bed,” she said, glancing out the window at the night sky. We’d been talking for quite some time, and it was already an ungodly hour. “Are you sleeping out here, or are you going to your room?”

I shifted my bad leg experimentally and immediately stopped when a sharp pain emanated from it, bouncing through my entire body. “I think not,” I said in a tight voice.

“Well, goodnight, then.” Mikela was halfway around the corner, coffee cups left abandoned on the table, when she turned back and said, “Try not to die in your sleep, alright?”

I chuckled painfully. “I shall do my very best.” She turned off the lights, rounded the corner, and closed the door to her bedroom. “I do not wish to hurt anyone else I care for,” I murmured to the dark, silent room. 

The void offered up no response.