Royal Darkness
2381 Words
As the Queen lay there in agony, the midwife leaned in closer to her and whispered, "Push a little harder, Your Majesty... You can do this."
The pain was excruciating, and it felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside out. But the Queen was determined to see this through, no matter the cost. The prophecy had foretold her death, but she refused to let that stop her from bringing her child into the world.
"I don't think I can go on," she gasped, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
"You can do this, Your Majesty," the midwife replied, her voice filled with reassurance. "Just try. I believe in you... Do it for your baby."
Rivulets of sweat trickled down the Queen's forehead, a testament to the intense physical exertion she had undergone. The pain was excruciating, every muscle in her body straining as she pushed with all her might.
For a moment, she felt like she was slipping away, that the doors of heaven were opening just for her. But then a faint smile appeared on her lips as she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and made the decision to give it one more push.
Summoning every last bit of strength and determination within her, she pushed with all force, determined to bring her baby into the world no matter what. It felt like an eternity, but finally, the cries of a newborn filled the room, a sound both beautiful and heart-wrenching.
The Queen took a deep breath, overwhelmed with emotion, before collapsing back onto the bed, her body drained of energy. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, tempered only by the knowledge that her time on this earth was limited.
But then, as the midwife took the newborn, something changed. The midwife's once ecstatic expression turned to horror as she stared at the creature before her, her hands trembling with shock and disbelief.
Monster!" she cried out, "Vedan!"
The midwife, unable to contain her fear any longer, dropped the baby into the cradle and ran out of the room, screaming in terror. The queen struggled to stand, her legs weak with exhaustion from the birthing process. She made her way over to the cradle, her heart racing with anticipation and concern for her newborn.
As she peered into the cradle, she gasped at the sight before her. Her daughter was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, with skin as white as snow and hair as plain as white cotton. She appeared ethereal, almost otherworldly in her beauty, and the queen couldn't help but be entranced by her.
But as the baby stirred, fluttering her eyes open, the queen's joy was replaced with a sense of foreboding. She saw what the midwife had seen and knew what it meant. Her daughter was a Vedan, a creature feared and reviled by her people.
Despite her own revulsion and fear, the queen could not deny the beauty of her child. She reached out to cradle her in her arms, marveling at her tiny fingers and toes. And as she held her daughter close, the queen knew that she would do everything in her power to protect her, no matter the cost.
The queen tenderly traced the contours of her newborn's face and noticed something peculiar while staring into the baby's eyes. "You're blind," she muttered beneath her breath, her gaze fixated on the helpless infant.
A rush of emotion overcame her as she cradled the tiny bundle in her arms, her heart brimming with love and concern for the vulnerable child. "Jamari," she whispered, her voice barely above a hush as she gazed into the baby's sightless eyes. "I shall call you Jamari."
It is natural for one to wonder why the midwife had fled from the sight of this innocent, blind baby. In the kingdom of Konica, many years ago, infants born with unique features such as white hair or extremely pale skin were deemed to be witches, and were obligated to be sacrificed to the gods ten days following their birth.
The people of Konica had suffered an awful fate at the hands of white-haired women, who had slaughtered and devoured thousands under the cover of darkness. Only with the aid of the powerful gem called Amelia, had the sorceress Marcela been able to vanquish these evil witches from the kingdom.
The queen clutched the newborn close to her chest as a voice interrupted her thoughts.
Turning sharply, she was met with the sight of the sorceress Marcela looming behind her. The queen's grip tightened protectively around the infant as she regarded Marcela with suspicion.
"You cannot keep her, Your Majesty," Marcela declared with a steely resolve. The queen's heart raced as she felt a sudden urge to flee with her child.
"How did you learn of this child so quickly?" the queen demanded, eyeing Marcela with suspicion.
"I am more powerful than you realize. Hand over the child," Marcela ordered, her voice rising with urgency.
The queen's heart sank as she gazed down at the precious newborn, feeling a wave of protectiveness and love wash over her. "This child is mine," she muttered, her voice filled with resolve.
Marcela's face contorted with anger as she demanded, "The child is a grave threat to humanity and must be destroyed. Give her to me at once."
But the queen refused to be intimidated. She had suffered through the pain of childbirth and would not relinquish her child to anyone, especially not to a sorceress who saw her baby as a threat. "I endured so much pain to bring this child into the world. I will not surrender her to you," the queen declared with unyielding determination, her arms cradling the newborn with fierce protectiveness.
Marcella's eyes blazed with fury as she glared at the newborn in the queen's arms. "That child is a monster!" she growled, her voice laced with venom.
The queen's voice trembled with fear as she spoke, "My child is not a monster."
Marcella could see the terror etched on the queen's face, but she knew that she had a duty to fulfill. "You are carrying a Vendan baby, Your Majesty. It must be killed," she insisted, her tone unwavering.
The queen's heart shattered into a million pieces as she clutched the infant tightly to her chest, desperately pleading for her child's life.
"My baby is not a Vendan. Vendans are evil, and my baby is not. Please, do not take her away from me," she begged, her voice breaking with emotion.
Marcella's expression softened slightly as she remembered something crucial. "The prophecy, Your Majesty," she said gravely, "you are destined to die today."
The queen's face turned pale with shock as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her mind raced as she contemplated the fate of her child, her heart heavy with the weight of her impending death.
Marcella watched the queen's anguish with a heavy heart. She knew that the prophecy was true, and that the queen's death was inevitable.
But there was still one thing she could do to help. With a deep breath, Marcella took a step forward and placed a hand on the queen's shoulder. "There is one way you can save yourself, Your Majesty," she said softly, her eyes locking with the queen's.
Marcella's voice was soft as she explained the queen's options. "The gods have given you a choice, Your Majesty. You can choose to save your own life, but it will come at the cost of your child's. Her heart will be pierced with a blade, and her blood will soak into the white silk that cradles her. The silk will be set ablaze, and the flames will reach the gods."
The queen's mind raced with the horrific image of her baby being sacrificed in such a brutal manner. She gasped, unable to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes.
"And what if... What if I choose the baby?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
"If you choose the baby, Your Majesty, she will be safe from harm, and you will give up your own life instead," Marcella replied, her eyes holding a mixture of sadness and
understanding. "You will die in her place, and your soul will join the ranks of the gods."
Queen Marie gazed down at the tiny bundle of warmth nestled in her arms, marveling at the perfection of her little fingers and toes. Her small chest rose and fell with each contented breath, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in her mother's heart.
She tore her gaze away from her precious daughter to look at her reflection in the ornate mirror before her. The queen's face was etched with worry and dread, her eyes haunted by the memory of the brutal slaughter of Vedan infants. She had witnessed it all - the helpless cries of the innocent babies, the tears of their human mothers, and the indifference of those who carried out the heinous act.
As Marcella reminded her of the impending arrival of the king and midwife, Queen Marie's heart raced with fear. She had imagined that her baby will be chosen to be sacrificed to the gods, as was the custom among the Vedans because she was never expecting a vedan baby, she had never truly considered it until now. The thought of her own beloved child meeting such a fate was too much to bear.
She clutched her baby close to her chest, her mind racing with the weight of the decision before her. The child in her arms was the product of countless prayers and tears, and she could not fathom losing her so soon.
Marcella's voice broke the heavy silence that hung in the air, the question ringing out like a death knell.
"What is your decision, your majesty?"
Queen Marie's heart ached with the weight of the decision before her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for what lay ahead.
"Marcella..."
"Yes, your majesty," Marcella replied, her voice soft and deferential. The queen slowly extended the tiny bundle towards the sorceress, who carefully cradled the infant in her arms.
"Wise decision, your majesty," Marcella murmured, her eyes glinting with a mixture of pity and detachment. "I will have it prepared for the sacrifice."
The queen's heart clenched with anguish as Marcella spoke of sacrificing her baby for the gods. She could not bear the thought of her precious child being taken away so soon. With fierce determination, she spoke up.
"No Marcella take care of the baby"
The sorceress stared at the queen, confusion etched on her face. "What do you mean by that, your majesty?"
"I have decided to give up my life for this child. Let the gods take me instead," the queen stated, her breathing ragged with emotion.
"You are giving up your life for it?" Marcella asked incredulously, her gaze flicking from the queen to the baby in her arms.
"Her name is Jamari," the queen said softly, ignoring Marcella's question. "I want you to hide her from her father and take care of her like she is your own. Protect her from the dangers of the world and treat her as if she is your own. Please," she implored, placing a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead. "Do not let her forget me."
Marcella shook her head in disapproval, her eyes misting with unshed tears. She had known the queen for years, and had never seen her so resolute in her decision to sacrifice herself for the sake of her child. The sorceress knew that the queen's plan was foolhardy and dangerous, but she also knew that there was no swaying her from it.
Marcella's heart ached as she watched the queen's resolve. She knew that there was no reasoning with her, no changing her mind. The queen had made her decision, and nothing would sway her from it.
"You are making a grave mistake, your Majesty," Marcella said, her voice choked with emotion.
"I will die someday, but I will be happy knowing that I am dying for such a good purpose," Queen Marie replied, her eyes filled with tears.
"Your majesty...?" Marcella whispered, her heart heavy with sadness.
"This is the reason I am sacrificing my life, sorceress Marcella. Don't let it be in vain. Please do not disobey me. This is my last order to you as Queen. Kindly honor it," the queen pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Marcella nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She knew that the queen's sacrifice was the ultimate act of love and devotion, and she vowed to honor her wishes.
The queen clutched her chest, groaning in pain. She looked at Marcella with tear-stained eyes and whispered, "Tell my husband, the king, that I love him."
Marcella used the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her face. "Farewell, your majesty," she said softly, her heart heavy with sorrow.
Please take care of her," the Queen managed to mumble, her body doubling over with excruciating pain. Marcella quickly took Jamari and disappeared, leaving Marie staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Marie's complexion began to turn pale, her face contorting with agony as she struggled to remain standing. The pain coursing through her body became too much to bear, and she collapsed onto the cold stone floor. Her body was devoid of any life, and every last drop of blood had been drained from her, leaving her looking like a dried-up husk.
A few moments later, the midwife, King Herad, and several Royal guards burst into the room, their eyes widening in shock at the sight before them. The once-vibrant Queen lay lifeless on the floor, her body contorted in pain.
"Marie..." King Herad's voice trailed off as he fell to his knees beside her, his eyes brimming with tears. He cradled her dry, withered body against his chest and wept softly, unable to comprehend the reality of what had happened.
The room was filled with the sound of his anguished cries as he grieved the loss of his beloved wife. The scent of death lingered in the air, and the somber silence was only broken by the distant sound of mournful wails from the kingdom beyond the castle walls.
- Writer
