VENERANT VALESSIN

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am THE QUEEN.

Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins…

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

The City of the Crown, The North,

Elowen and Thorne Demetrius watched as Elyra stormed out of the Third Throne Hall, her boots stomping like a warning, her ambience like a storm out from its cage.

The twins trailed after her, ducking behind thick pillars with expertise clumsiness, moving from one to another. The guards didn’t bother stopping them, clearly used to surprise odd behaviour from them. A few rolled their eyes, one sighed, and others ignored them.

But then- Elyra turned.

She caught them the moment they stepped from behind the next one. Eye contact froze them both, startled, nearly nose-to-nose with her.

‘‘All Thorne’s idea,’’ Elowen offered without request instantly.

Thorne turned to her, wide-eyed in disbelief.

Elyra didn’t say any word, her gaze sharp enough to keep them in place.

‘‘We were only thinking,’’ Thorne began, fumbling for a thread of levity, ‘‘perhaps a bath would be soothing. One that can help with the aches and the-. Just something warm that-”

Elyra stepped closer with precision and the twins flattened against the pillar.

‘‘Stop following me,’’ she said, trying to ensure her anger wasn’t seeping into her voice.

“Honestly, I mean it this time.’’

She turned and walked away.

They didn’t follow her- not this time. They simply stood still and watched her go.

Elyra found her horse and rode.

She rode far, through the streets of the City of the Crown, where once, the wind always carried voices, music and laughter and even colour- bright and vibrant.

She rode past it all, beyond the reach of her memory, until the city quieted.

She rode until the fallen silence birthed sound and it wasn’t of laughter or melodious in any way.

It was raw…of pain.

Here, people made shroud-shelters about, whimpering in devastating pain crying to the heavens for help. They were people who have fallen in and out of consciousness, more than they have seen the sun in recent times.

After tying her horse to a tree, Elyra walked in a straight line ahead.

She forced herself to walk past the tents without slowing, even as the screams clawed at her ears harder and harder. Though barely mended, Elyra knew enough of their torment to recognize it in her own bones.

Tireless caregivers and kin of the afflicted moved swiftly and solemnly, offering her nods of recognition as she went.

To the world beyond the North, magic was an allure holding undeniable enigma, power, and beauty.

Only a few understood its toll or the laws that bind its wielders in unseen chains.

Its laws weren’t just taught- they were sung to you before birth, whispered in lullabies after birth, and taught as you crawl.

So when some fled the Northern Realm, whether to serve Southern Highborn or vanish into the wilds of the Free Lands, Elyra understood and never once judged.

With the Seat of Power vacant, the land itself began to reclaim what it once gave. The weakest unravel first and some of those surviving writhe within those shelters.

Her legs carried her to one in particular and she managed a smile as she parted it and walked in. The three caregivers by the sick boy’s side immediately bow at her. She gives them a nod, her eyes never leaving him.

His eyes were closed, but he must have sensed the shift in the caregivers, and so he opened his eyes.

Immediately, his gaze fell on Elyra.

He moved to stand up, but she rushed to sit by his side.

‘‘No Malrik. You must save your strength’’ She said in a small, sweet voice as she clasped one of his sweltering hands in her both hands.

He only had a white cloth tied from his waist to his ankles because he was sweating as he had stood under the pouring heavens for a long time.

His eyes were glassy, his lips ashy, his skin blotchy, and he was still having persistent feverish tremors.

His magic was being bled out of him and this was one of the greatest agonies Elyra has ever had to watch.

‘‘Ge..General’’ Malrik managed to stutter.

‘‘I’m here. I’m here.

I apologize for being away for so long.

Do you pardon me?’’ Elyra asked.

She held his hand firmer in hers as she awaited a gesture from him.

He nodded, making a small attempt to smile.

He was one of the many children whose parents had given up on him when his case continued to grow worse, and they had dropped him at one of the gates of the City of the Crown, not knowing what to do.

Elyra had found him and a few others, and she had been watching over him for some time.

He was only seven.

She spoke with him for a while, teaching him some Oaths of the Pillars, oaths he might never need if he doesn’t live. Oaths that had not been able to keep her beloved weapon by her side.

When he began to scream of a burning pain inside of him, the caregivers rushed back in and began to attend to him again.

She walked out of the shelter with one of them.

The caregiver already knew the General’s question. “Nothing goes into his stomach anymore.

He throws it right out and sometimes he manages water, but that is all.”

She couldn’t go back there to see him, she feared she would break.

She couldn’t even take her horse as she began to walk aimlessly- on and on. She had no idea where she was as she turned to the wall of a house and began to cry.

It was late and there was no one in the streets. Even if it wasn’t late, there was hardly anyone in the streets these days.

She wept- wept for the state of the North, for the dying bond the Venerants were feeling from those they had sent to the South; she wept for the boy and the other suffering ones, and then for how powerless she felt.

She slid from the wall to a squat, her red hair falling around her arms and back.

After some time, she heard a distant sound and immediately opened her eyes.

As she stood up, someone immediately shoved her to the wall, his hand against her throat.

The sound was close by after all.

‘‘This is the reason the female folk shouldn’t wield blades.

I expected more from someone who is a General.’’ The intruder said pressing hard on her neck.

‘‘Seems you have it covered.

There might not be a need for me after all,’’ someone said next.

He was sitting on the roof of the closest house, his foot dangling as he watched on with fascination.

Elyra looked at both and tried to seek deeper parts of her mind for recognition, but none came.

But they looked like brothers with their unique hard-cut faces and crooked noses, a testament to the many fights they must engage in regularly.

“You dare to attack a General of the Northern Army?’’ She quipped in between breaths.

‘‘We don’t care Woman. We were asked to test your strength, but it seems you have none, it must be the loss of your greatblade and all that crying.’’ He smiled pressing deeper.

She flattened both her hands on the wall and pressed forward to her assailant’s dismay and stun. She moved the hold he had on her neck without touching him, simply by exerting her strength forward, despite the pain it caused her throat, and the next second, she struck a punch under his jaw.

He threw his head to the side as he staggered backward. The one on the roof was shocked and immediately jumped down.

Elyra rubbed her hand.

‘‘I was crying and you thought it wise to disrupt me...

Now I need another strategy to unburden and you my lovely men, will have a taste of my strength…’’

One man stood behind her and the other in front. They both rushed to her at once, and she planted her feet on the ground as they neared.

The one who had been watching the show, jumped in the air when he was close with a small blade in hand.

Before he or his weapon could touch her, she struck her folded fist below his lower abdomen, extremely close to his groin. His weapon fell off his hand mid-air but before he could join it, she snatched him by his clothing with both hands and slammed him against the one who had been strangling her.

He was thrown to the ground, but she wasn’t done with the one in her hold.

She slammed him against the wall over and over and over again.

His head, his side, his hip, his face- over and over again.

Even when the wall began to break off, she didn’t stop till it totally crumbled.

The other watched on unable to move in absolute fear. She was like a monster, tall, strengthened but resplendent.

He watched his brother go from slightly breathing to completely unconscious in very few heartbeats, knowing that if his brother survived, the best from the Province of Lurienn would never be able to assist his new state.

And when that part of the house was caved in, Elyra dropped him like he was a ragged doll and took satisfied slow steps towards the other one.

She squatted by his side.

“So, I have one question before I decide what to do with you.

You will give your answer right?’’

He stuttered, “You- you are no woman.’’

She smiled.

“Definitely not yours. So tell me, who had you come to me-”

Mist began to suddenly spread in the passageway they were in. It swiftly filled her vision and rose as she stood up to understand what was going on.

Her eyes followed the mist as it spread from that passageway down the path before her.

There she had her answer.

She hadn’t seen the face because of the thick whiteness but the black and white ceremonial wrapping on the head was a giveaway.

She snarled in anger,

‘‘Valessin!’’