NOT A DEITY

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am the queen.

Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins…

**********************

Some hours ago at the Infernal Keep,

Priestess Helga had suddenly startled from the brief nap she was having with her back rested to the wall. Her fingers twitched violently and her eyes vanished behind her lids, consumed by an unseen force.

Ivan Juno Cassius and Elias Demetrius- who had taken a mouse for a pet and had been trying to teach it the human language - swung their attention at her.

Whispers of the unknown poured softly under her breath and the other inmates - mad and violent by reputation- trembled. They shrank into corners they already struggled to fit.

Once, no soul could endure a stay beside them; new comers were always met with the strongest of fury and the craziest of fists.

But something in these new arrivals gave even madness a pause, something deep within their unhinged minds screamed to stay back.

One glance and they could understand – these weren’t people to challenge, not even by the insane.

Before long, the priestess stilled, her movements fading as whatever had taken hold of her slipped away. Her eyes returned to calm and Elias leaned forward, waiting for her to speak. She turned to the two men, voice low but certain.

‘‘His presence brushed past mine. He lingers close’’

She looked at the object in her hand, her features alight, a faint smile tugging at her lips and her eyes full of feeling.

She had retrieved it from Elias before her slumber, just to confirm its safety and in her hold, it had pulled her to its true bearer.

She handed it back to Elias, knowing he is a master at keeping things concealed. His chaotic persona were all part of the trick – no one would ever find it as long as it was in his care.

Ivan Juno Cassius, back erect and long legs folded beneath him, simply went back to closing his eyes, engrossed in introspective silence.

***********************8

Astrid, Camille and Aida walked behind Nadezhda at a reasonable distance, their hearts and minds locked in a quiet battle of suspicions at what could have frayed their Mistress’ mood.

When they confirmed that she was heading to Zorgan’s hunting grounds, they urged the two soldiers behind them to shadow her as she ventured in. The soldiers had been subtly guided – no, unmistakably commanded – by Queen Maeve to stay back yesterday since she was in her care. Now they resumed duty.

Stretched out behind the palace like a vast carefully tended expanse, the hunting grounds welcomed three people.

Nadezhda had not once turned since she stepped out from her room but she was aware of the two men behind her and her chambermaids that had seemed gravelly worried.

The teal coloured gown she was in swept twigs and dirt along as she moved, shoulders squared due to strained anger being confined. She needed to let it loose.

She readied an arrow as her eyes took in the very tall and uneven elm, oak and beech trees around. Gnarled roots thread the earth, stitching forest to ground.

One of the soldiers from behind suddenly came to stand beside her, startling her a little. Her lips lift in a sneer but the soldier quickly explains the reason for his action. ‘‘Pardon me Mistress, from here on, I have to stay very close to you. There are unlikely snares specially created by The Commander and if we follow this trail-” He said pointing to a very narrow path that would require placing one foot before the other due to how tiny it was. “-we are likely to come across a chase and good games. Prince Commander-”

Nadezhda moved forward, shutting off the words the soldier was yet to communicate. She leaped over a fallen elm tree that had part of its decaying entity on a shrub that was knee length.

Taken aback, the soldier called after her, ‘‘My Lady. That is not the trail I-”

She spun to face him with a piercing fierceness. ‘‘I will make my own path. It’s either you stay with me or you go back to where you were’’

The soldiers couldn’t tell if she was merely speaking of a path by which she could hunt for game or an entirely different ‘path’. She turned away, her bow lifted and nose in the air. The rich aroma of humus, of moss and a slight musty fragrance of mushrooms drifted in the air and beckoned her to continue moving.

She did and the anticipation of finding motion different from the little ones she was making and also from those behind her, seemed to place a lid over the raging emotions within her.

Suddenly, on her left there was a swift movement below the tufted grasses and from the alertness of her eyes, she picked the shape of a beaver. It had to be the biggest she had ever seen because she almost thought it to be something else.

With a flex of her shoulder, she unleashed the arrow with practiced ease. The arrow zipped through the air at the beaver, but the animal was quicker, darting away on its nimble feet.

Without thinking, she pushed herself and began to chase after it.

Due to the number of mischiefs she had ventured in almost all her life, her legs are swift in propelling her forward. Her eyes could see what she wanted moving quickly, like it was a soldier who had thoroughly trained along the terrains of shrubs and grasses it passed through.

But for the love of everything good, she loved wearing gowns and had only fitted into masculine outfit on her wedding day when she had dressed as a stable boy. She had wanted to keep her gown on but it had been the reason she had always been caught in her past minor misdemeanours.

Before crossing into the hunting grounds, she had chosen not to attend to the notion of a proper attire. Now she was regretting it because the beaver was getting away.

One of the soldiers ran past her, his enthusiasm causing the trace of a smile to appear on her lips. She was grateful that he had not been offended by her outburst and was choosing to help her.

‘‘Oh uh, there it is, right beneath that log’’ She shouted excitedly as she continued to push her legs in her gown.

“I see it’’ The soldier responded with almost equal glee. He drew his arrow knowing he was so close he could never miss.

As his fingers were about to free the shot, his senses abruptly filled with the presence of a predator. It was undeniable, something his Commander had thought him and his comrades to identify in whatever circumstance.

The moment his eyes lifted, someone jumped from the tree he had barely passed and dug a curved knife into his back. He swung quickly as he tried to grab the person.

But he wasn’t the person’s interest.

For more than twenty one days since the order had gotten to him while he was sending off some persons in the Infernal Keep, he had watched Zorgan’s wife from afar.

All he had needed was a moment with her alone, but he had soon realized that was close to impossible. The order had not been to kill her- that would be too sudden a happening for what his Lord had for her.

It had been to leave a scar that would disfigure her for life, one that would cause whatever confidence she moved with to wither and that would inevitably make Prince Commander Zorgan realize that no matter how strong and powerful he was, that he wasn’t a deity, he wasn’t omniscient and omnipresent.