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The Queen of the Sky sat crouched atop the cliff face, her fingers picking at one of her leather bracers of their own accord.  Before her lay a vast expanse of land encircled by mountains.  A waterfall spilled over the edge in one place to form a large lake, which then split into a number of rivers that reached out to carry life to every corner of the domain.  People gathered by huts along the banks, organizing supplies to build more dwellings while others brought food to them.  The sight made the Queen a bit sad, but it was encouraging at the same time.

 

We are resilient…but I hope we never have to rebuild like this again.

 

Her gaze drifted up.  The sky was still blue, though not for much longer.  The sun was already making its descent, and would start to sink behind the mountains soon enough—even now it was trying to mask itself behind some clouds, but a breath from the Queen was enough to part them.  To most, the sky might look different every minute, a million small things that are forever shifting, always interacting in a new way, and many stand in awe at this marvelous complexity.  But to some (and certainly to the Queen), the base essence of the sky was what they saw most clearly: the static canvas happy to play host to this ever-changing string of guests, the companion that was always there, always watching no matter its state, like an old guard dog.

 

She smiled, and for a moment her face knew not a trace of weariness.  Knowing that her namesake remained so reliable was enough to give her strength.

 

Footsteps caught her attention.  Standing and turning, she saw another woman making her way towards the edge, this one wearing a dress of a burnt orange color and a golden crown nearly identical to hers.

 

“Land!” Sky said, starting forward.  “Careful, there’s a loose patch of soil!”

 

At the Queen of the Land’s step, the ground reshaped and hardened itself, transforming to fit her foot perfectly just before it landed.

 

“Come now, dear, I’m not one to lose my footing,” she chuckled.

 

Nonetheless, she accepted the hand she was offered and pulled herself closer to the other Queen, pausing for a brief kiss before stepping away.  Her expression hardened as she reached the cliff.

 

“To think we nearly lost all of this…and all for some petty sense of competition…”

 

Sky set a hand on her shoulder.  She quickly removed it, saying, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

 

Land shook her head.  “Don’t worry.  How are your wounds healing?”

 

Shifting her weight to test her leg, Sky said, “Decently.  However, this body has begun to grow old.  There may be new limits to how well I can heal.”

 

After a pause, she added, “Do you think we should go see Fire?  We have to make sure the Eastern Ruin is sealed away, else—“

 

Land put a finger to Sky’s lips.  “She will see to it.  We all decided that the ones at the most extreme points would be responsible for sealing the Ruinous away; we need to honor that agreement.  I know it’s difficult right now, but we have to start learning to trust the others.”

 

Sky sighed, running her hands down Land’s arm.  “You’ve always said that.”

 

“Well now that the wars have ended, I have all the more reason to keep saying it!  Besides, plenty of humans say bonds forged in battle are the most profound.  Why don’t we give that a shot?”

 

Sky smiled, trying to stifle a laugh.  Land turned and crossed her arms, saying, “I see.”

 

“No, that’s not what I meant!  Simply…”

 

She tried to find the words.  Land looked over her shoulder patiently.

 

“You’re so eager to see the best in people, I suppose.  I never really learned to appreciate it…I didn’t have much chance, with all the warring.  But I think it’s an attitude that will serve us well in this new era.”

 

Land tapped her foot.  “Hm.  ‘You have an attitude that will serve us well.’”

 

She shrugged and smirked.  “Not a very traditional compliment, but I suppose it’s one I’ll accept.”

 

Sky gently wrapped her arms around Land from behind, kissing her on the cheek.  “I am quite relieved.”

 

They continued to watch the people together.  Eventually, Sky asked, “What are you going to name this place?”

 

“I’ve heard that the others are naming their queendoms after the first human who bore their Crown.  I think it’s a lovely idea.”

 

“Roche, then?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure it fits.  What do you think?”

 

“I’ve always found it a beautiful name.”

 

Land giggled.  “An excellent maneuver, dear, but I daresay you’ve missed the point.”

 

She hesitated before asking, “…And you?”

 

Sky lifted her head from Land’s shoulder.  “I’ll need to find a domain first.  There are some cliffs on the southwestern shore that I think I could enjoy, but they’re quite a distance away.”

 

Clouds appeared, forming a blanket of shade over the two.  Land was silent for a time.  Then, she quietly asked, “Did they ask us to separate?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“We’ve been operating under the assumption…we’ve thought that, now that the Queens are going to formalize their territories, that means you and I need to find separate spaces.  But I’ve been thinking, and…I don’t think anyone said anything about that.”

 

She pulled away so that she could turn and look at Sky.  “Sky, think back: did anyone say we needed to separate?”

 

Sky stared at her blankly, trying to remember the conference.  “They…well, I hadn’t really…now that you mention it, I don’t recall any specific mention of our situation.”

 

A hopeful grin took Land’s face.  Sky could feel something similar within herself, but still said, “That might not mean what we want it to.  Land, I want nothing more than to remain here with you, but this…doesn’t seem the best time to stir tensions.  We need peace, else the Ruinous might reawaken.”

 

“And would the others break that peace just to keep us apart?” Land asked.

 

Sky looked down.  The wind started to pick up.  Land reached out to her, saying, “Sky, I love you.  I have not a single memory of our time before this realm, but I still know that I have loved you since time began.  And I know that you feel the same.”

 

She took Sky’s hand.  The other Queen whispered, “I’m afraid, Land.  We didn’t see the Ruinous until they were out butchering people.  I’m frightened that anything I do might carelessly unleash them again.  If the Eastern Ruin destroyed this place, killed even more of our people…if one of them killed you, I couldn’t…”

 

Land embraced Sky.  She waited a moment, then said, “The Ruinous draw power from the hate and violence that filled this world.  When we began to trust instead, their strength was lessened—we all saw that.”

 

She looked up at Sky, putting a hand to her cheek.  “So what do you think would happen if we taught this world to cherish love?  I doubt that’s something those fiends could ever recover from.”

 

Sky thought hard, making sure she could not come up with an argument.  When she found she had none, she leaned forward for a long kiss, and the clouds cleared away to bathe the queendom of Roche in sunlight.  When at last they parted, she found herself giggling, and she asked, “What would I do without you?”

 

“I promise that you will never have to find out,” Land said.

 

 

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Edited by Galactic Commander Pahrak
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The Queen of Nature stumbled out of the trees and into the clearing.  Leaning on her staff, she steadied herself, and took a series of deep breaths.

 

It’s over.  It’s sealed.  It’s over.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

She looked up to find that a small number of her citizens had gathered.  Straightening herself, she confidently said, “You may rest easy, my people.  The Southern Ruin now belongs to the forest.”

 

They erupted in cheers at the news.  Nature strode past them with a smile, fingers wrapped tightly around her staff.

 

She looked to see how the restoration was progressing.  The clearing remained empty for the most part, but foundations were being laid—it would not be long before construction truly began, and this spot would know civilization once more.  Some of the tension in her muscles eased away.

 

At the far side was a great fortress, a tremendous tree that spread and twisted into the shape of a castle.  The area around the main gate curved outward like a wide turret, with knotted protrusions lining the polished doors, tightly framing their shimmering form.  At either side of the entrance, the wood smoothed into a seamless sheet, its surface broken only by windows and its top lined in branches and leaves, going on for many paces before angling backward to form a corner.  Some of the branches reached up higher than the rest, but these were quickly lost in a massive orb of green that gently swayed against the backdrop of the sky.

 

Nature examined her abode for a moment and inclined her head.  A handful of branches reached down and layered themselves along the top edge of the wall, rustled a bit, and shaped into a long line of battlements.  Her renovation complete, the Queen entered.

 

The spacious entrance hall still lay bare, as she imagined most of the castle would for some time.  A trio of guards, clad in brown leather over green fabric, beat their staffs against the floor in salute; she nodded to them, and then crossed the hall to the spiral staircase.  As she climbed up through the center of the castle, her composure rapidly deteriorated.  She eventually had to bring herself to a complete halt.

 

The worst is over, she reminded herself as the muscles in her neck hardened.  They’ll still be there, no matter how long it takes me.  I just need to keep going, and they’ll be there.

 

When she felt steady again, she resumed her journey up the steps.

 

Eventually the staircase ended at a door which had been left open, allowing fresh air to drift in freely.  The Queen emerged onto a strong tree branch, surrounded by the limbs and leaves that shaded the castle and the clearing at its feet, and let out a large sigh as her legs fell still and her shoulders began to shake.

 

A chirp made her look up.  Sitting nearby was a large parrot, its feathers a vibrant red save for the mesh of blues and greens that lined its wings.  Nature embraced the relief that came and smiled at the bird.

 

“Hello, my friend,” she whispered.

 

The parrot hopped onto a closer branch and walked down its length as Nature found a place to sit.  She looked up: more birds could be seen in the higher branches, poking their heads down through the leaves to lay eyes on the new arrival.  Nature continued to shake, but she still smiled.  The red parrot leaned forward, looking right at her, and made a few low tweets.

 

“The Southern Ruin is sealed,” she quietly replied.  “It’s over…it’s over…”

 

She gasped.  A few tears escaped her eyes, and the parrot seemed to twist its head in concern.

 

“I’m sorry…I’m still adjusting.  Hundreds of years of memories…they can’t be properly sorted out in a week.  And that creature…”

 

Its image came to her mind.  A sleek body, like that of a jungle cat, lined by sharp thorns, with massive, scaly paws that slid just above the surface of the ground.  From its vine-shrouded shoulders extended the leafy maw of a carnivorous plant—its edges were shaped into needle-like teeth, and its interior was uncannily dark, save for two points of light in its center that were constantly shifting from yellow to blue to red.

 

No.

 

She saw it glide out of the trees like a leaf on the wind.  It pounced onto a gathering of huts, knocking them all down with the sudden force of its impact.  Screams filled the air.

 

“It…it’s over…”

 

People ran.  The creature pursued them, jaws snapping shut over five at once, their bodies evaporating into steam as the acid in its mouth dissolved them.  Blood dripped from its teeth, its soulless eyes gazing through the veil of crimson already in search of more prey.

 

Nature’s hands slid up the sides of her head.  “We defeated the Ruinous, they can’t…c-can’t…”

 

She saw herself—no, the previous Queen of Nature—surrounded by the other Queens and three more terrible creatures.  The Southern Ruin charged her.  She pulled back her staff, willing it to sprout a sharp edge like a scythe, and ran to meet it, sliding under it and slicing it open.  The Southern Ruin collapsed, but only for a moment.  With the last of its strength, it flopped back, and the Queen of Nature felt herself impaled by the monster’s spikes.

 

“Why…”

 

Their poison shot through her.  It would have killed a normal human instantly, but the magic in her body slowed it, turning her death into an agonizing eternity.  The other Queens were nowhere to be seen.

 

“Why didn’t they stop it?”

 

A light weight on her shoulder brought her back to the present.  The parrot was there, regarding her curiously.  It whistled and shifted its feet slightly.

 

“…Hah.”

 

Nature lowered her arms.  The other birds were drawing closer now, and had begun to sing, filling the tree with a gentle, echoing melody.  Nature focused on the sound, letting it carry the memories back into the depths of her mind.  The parrot on her shoulder touched its beak against her face briefly.  She chuckled, and slowly raised her hand, scratching the parrot’s neck in thanks.

 

“…It wasn’t the first time,” she remembered.  “The Queens of Nature have always been left to stand alone.”

 

The parrot gave a single long chirp.

 

“Haha…well, not completely alone.”

 

More memories came, and she found herself in the place of so many of her predecessors.  She asked the Queen of the Sea for aid, and was sent away by a wall of water.  She trembled as the Queen of War bore down upon the land, slaughtering her people, splintering the trees of the once-thought eternal forest by her presence alone.  She allowed herself to hope when the Queen of Fire offered her an alliance.  It was followed by an image of Arbolana submerged in flames.

 

The parrot squawked, lowering its head for a moment in protest.  Nature realized she had stopped scratching the animal, and quickly resumed.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She received more chirping in response.  Forgiveness, she hoped.  Nature smiled for a moment, glad that she still had a way to calm herself.

 

“We can’t trust the other Queens.  If I allow Arbolana to be dependent on them, we will fall the moment they break their word.”

 

She glanced down, straining to hear the sounds of construction below.  She knew she would need to go assist the builders soon…but, for now, she needed to stay here just a little longer.  She looked back up, and the birds continued to sing for her.

 

 

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  • 4 weeks later...

The servant quietly moved through the dark stone hall, clutching an unlit torch in her hands.  She could not see the walls nor most of the floor.  At the far end stood a torch that looked like it was about to sputter out, and at its foot was an armored woman sitting absolutely still.  The servant edged forward slowly, trembling slightly as she stepped behind the woman.  She set down the new torch, lit it, and then blew out the old torch’s dying flame.

 

As she took her first step of her journey back, she paused to examine the woman.  Her skin was a brownish color, though only her face could be seen—from the neck down she was clad in a shell of iron armor, the quality of its craftsmanship apparent even in the dark.  Long black hair flowed down onto her shoulders and continued on until it reached the midpoint of her back, and atop her head was a golden, nine-pointed crown that bore an emblem of a sword piercing a shield, signifying her as the Queen of War.  She sat cross-legged with her hands folded on her lap, her eyes closed and her head hanging forward.

 

The servant stooped to pick up the empty plate sitting next to the Queen.  When she stood, she realized that the Queen was now staring at her.  Her entire body froze.  She didn’t speak, she didn’t blink, she didn’t breathe, fearing that the slightest move might anger the Queen.

 

Ultimately, the Queen looked forward and gestured with one hand.  “Please sit,” she whispered.

 

The servant instantly obeyed.

 

“I have lost track of time in here.  How long has it been?”

 

“One week, Your Majesty.”

 

“Hm.  I thought it was longer.”

 

The hall was silent.

 

“I ask forgiveness for detaining you, but after meditating so long I have begun to feel I have nothing left to consider,” the Queen said.  “Yet still…though I have exhausted every thought I possess, looked through the eyes of every lifetime I can recall, still I do not have the answer I have been seeking.”

 

She turned to the servant.  “Tell me: am I no better than the Ruinous?”

 

The servant recoiled.  “…Y…Your Majesty?”

 

The Queen leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist.  “That is what I have pondered in my long retreat.  I am an incarnation of the concept of War—the Ruinous, personifications of chaos and bloodshed.  Are we, perhaps, one and the same?”

 

She slid her hand over her face.  “…I find that prospect…terrifying.”

 

The hall was silent once more.  Eventually, the Queen looked up at the blackened ceiling and continued, “For over 300 years, I have seen it as my duty to guide humanity, and I always believed I was doing that to the best of my ability.  But the result of my actions…the result of what I represent, what I am…was a world that came within a hair’s breadth of total nothingness.  And I find myself wondering if I have been wrong this entire time.  If war is wrong…then what does that make me?”

 

She continued to stare up into the void that hung over her.  After a time, the servant could watch no more, and so she cleared her throat and asked, “If I may, Your Majesty?”

 

The Queen gave a slight nod.

 

“I have lived under your rule for my entire life,” the servant explained.  “As did my parents, and their parents, and their parents before.  Since the time you first entered this world and Lady Kenzaria first wore your Crown, my family and countless others have followed you loyally.”

 

“Perhaps I owe you an apology,” the Queen mused.

 

The servant shook her head.  “When I was a girl, my village was attacked.  We did our best, but the invaders had a great edge in numbers, and we were gradually being worn down.  I was prepared to die that day.  But then you rode over the hill, and with a single swing of your sword, you smote over a third of the invading force.  Those that survived the following minute were brought before you and made terrible accusations—they called you a demon, saying that you existed only to expedite humanity’s end and that the destruction of your Crown would herald the foundation of paradise on Earth.  I know it was long ago, Your Majesty…but do you remember what you said to them?”

 

The Queen thought for a moment.  “You say that war will bring humanity’s end.  I say the same of peace.  Humanity is brilliant, but if it is not forced to surpass its limits, it never will.  When you fight, you grow.  You discover strength you never knew you could possess, and envision new possibilities capable of reshaping the world.  Humanity needs war in order to evolve.  If you wish your race to stagnate, then by all means, petition for peace.  But I will not allow you to kill yourselves so easily.”

 

The servant smiled.  “Do those sound like the words of a monster?”

 

The Queen closed her eyes.  “…I don’t know anymore.”

 

“Your viewpoint is very different from that of the other Queens.  It’s something that can be difficult for humans to comprehend, but I think I understand.  You looked at humanity in one sweeping stroke, seeing what has made them change and when they have been at their most ingenious, and then you decided you wanted to give them more of those moments.  Your chief concern is the growth of humanity—you want nothing more than to see us prosper.  But the Ruinous?  They wanted to see us dead.”

 

Feeling brave, the servant moved in front of the Queen and looked her in the eyes.  “Your Majesty, there is not a single thing that you and the Ruinous share.  Regardless of how it may appear on the surface, the motives that drive you are in such inherent opposition that no one could ever claim you to be kin.”

 

She chuckled a bit as she added, “Would one of the Ruinous doubt its morality so thoroughly that it would willingly lock itself away for so long?”

 

The Queen looked at the servant for a long while.  Then, the corner of her mouth slowly began to curl.  “I have not even asked your name.”

 

“Brynja.”

 

“Brynja.  My eternal gratitude is yours.”

 

The Queen of War rose to her feet.  “If any would compare me to those fiends, then I shall have to give them proof to the contrary.  A century of peace should be a sufficient sign of good faith.”

 

She offered a hand to Brynja, helping her stand as she added, “It will be difficult, but this is not the time for humanity to be pushed.  You must recover your strength first.  And then, once you have healed…”

 

Brynja grinned.  “I expect you shall test us as never before, Your Majesty.  Even if I may not live to see it, I know that we will be safe in your hands.”

 

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

The Queen of Fire approached the gap in the massive stone wall, carrying an iron door over her head.  She gently set the plate of metal into the opening and looked up—a builder nearby used his magic to align the hinges, and then she narrowed her eyes at them.  Intense heat welded the bolts into place.

 

“Many thanks, Your Majesty,” the builder said.  “With your assistance, we are already a full month ahead of schedule!”

 

“It’s no problem,” the Queen said, cupping her hands around her mouth and blowing a puff of flame into them.  “I need some way to pass the time, and the work helps me stay warm.  The climate out here is unbearable.”

 

Her gaze drifted down the length of the wall, seeing many more men and women bringing stone and metal into place so that the structure could continue to form.  It already extended two stories up, but she had been told that a third floor was to be built for the main area, and after that the workers would move on to building nine towers into the perimeter.

 

“What did you say you were calling it?  The Hall of Ether?”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“Hm.  It has an interesting ring, I suppose.”

 

She picked up a block of mortar about the same size as her and carried it up the nearby scaffolding.  To the builder, she said, “There’s one thing I don’t understand.  You said there was guaranteed to be no violence within these walls, but how are you going to achieve that?  We’re all willing to maintain the peace for now, but I’m sure at some point a Queen is going to draw her sword in this place.”

 

The builder smiled.  “With all respect, Your Majesty, our order is led by the finest mages in the world.  If their ancestors were able to craft the spells that brought you into being, I am sure they have a way to limit hostilities within one building.”

 

Fire grinned.  “Is that it?  Now I’m even more curious.”

 

As she set the block in place, something appeared in the corner of her eye.  She turned to look.  Scowling, she called, “She’s here.  Excuse me for a minute.”

 

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

Fire returned to ground level and walked away from the work site.  She tried to stay still as she watched the horse galloping towards her, but she found herself rubbing her hands together, and quickly used another puff of flame to warm herself.

 

Hurry up, let’s get this over with.

 

Riding on the horse was a large woman with eerily pale skin, clad in impossibly clean white robes and with long hair the same ghostly color.  She held the horse’s reigns in one hand while the other held a folding fan that was constantly being moved back and forth.  Atop her head was a crown made of gold, its emblem depicting an eight-pointed snowflake.  The horse slowed as it drew closer, ultimately coming to a stop a few paces before the Queen of Fire.  The rider gave her a dull look.

 

“Queen of Fire,” she sighed.

 

Fire pulled her mouth into a smile.  “Greetings, Queen of Ice.  Thank you for meeting me here.”

 

Ice nodded.  She dismounted and paused to fan herself harder, and then began to lead her horse around the work site.  Fire followed.

 

“It really is horribly warm out here,” Ice complained.  “Of course, you likely consider this temperature freezing, do you not?”

 

“That’s exactly why I proposed we meet here,” Fire said, trying to keep her tone close to even.  “The Hall might not be complete, but I don’t think either of us would last long in the other’s queendom.”

 

“Quite.  Now, what is it that you wished to discuss?”

 

“I hope it doesn’t seem premature, but I was hoping you’d be willing to discuss some trade agreements.  Pyrada’s soil is still rich, and we’d be more than happy to share some crops—I imagine your snow banks aren’t very good for growing things.”

 

Ice inclined her head.  “Hm.  I was considering arranging an agreement for crops, but the Queen of Light is a bit closer.”

 

“My people will handle all the transport, and I’ll be sure to hold them to a tight schedule.  You won’t notice the difference.”

 

The Queen of Ice slowly looked to the East.  Sweeping her hand out, she said, “You’ll have to skirt War’s domain to reach us.  Is that wise?”

 

“There’s plenty of empty land for us to travel,” Fire insisted.  “I’ve scouted it myself, you know.”

 

“I’m sure.  However, if War were to meddle, then my people would be without crops.  You don’t seem the most stable option.”

 

Fire tapped her fingers against the side of her leg.  “War wouldn’t dare.  Even once that century of truce she promised ends, she won’t be so stupid to provoke me like that.  She knows that I have no problem razing another Queen’s land to ashes.”

 

Ice looked over her shoulder at Fire, her eyes still lacking some light.  “You seem almost desperate.”

 

Fire twitched and quickly averted her gaze.

 

“I think we both can agree you are not the better of my two choices.  Therefore, I must ask why you still make this offer.”

 

Closing her eyes for a moment, Fire swallowed hard.  “…I am…asking for your help, Queen of Ice.”

 

Ice’s footsteps ceased.  She turned to face Fire now.

 

“My advisors have…”  Fire shook her head.  “No.  Pyrada needs ties to other queendoms in order to prosper.  If you and I can establish stable trade relations now, I know it’ll really help Pyrada in the future.”

 

“So then you are making a selfish request?”

 

Fire tightened her jaw.  “Yes.  I am.”

 

Ice observed her for a moment, her fan never stopping.  Eventually she said, “I must admit, I find myself confused.  This is unlike you, Queen of Fire, especially as I’ve yet to notice a return for the last defeat I dealt you.”

 

“…I…wish for us to…begin anew, in this new era…”

 

Ice hummed.  “How am I to trust an ally who can barely choke out such a statement?”

 

Fire sighed, and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.  She pushed her hair back and looked into the sky.  “Alright.  Sure, I’m still rather annoyed that you killed me, and if you want the truth, then yes, my first instinct is still to pay you back.  But.”

 

She locked eyes with the other Queen.  “I’m not going to.”

 

Ice raised an eyebrow.  “You, of all people, would be willing to forgive and forget?”

 

Fire took a deep breath.  “I know, it’s not exactly in my nature, but…well, you’re a Queen, so you know.  I’ve convinced myself it’ll help my people.”

 

Ice gave her a thoughtful look, and then turned and resumed walking.  “I see.”

 

Catching up, Fire asked, “So?”

 

Ice beckoned to one of the builders, who came to take her horse.  Turning back to Fire, she said, “I am still not fully convinced.”

 

Fire clenched her teeth.

 

“However.”

 

Ice folded her fan.  Holding one hand out, she continued, “I did not come all the way here to stay for only a single afternoon.  While I remain here, we may discuss the possibility of trade.  I shall provide you with an answer before I choose to depart.”

 

The tension eased a bit, and Fire took Ice’s hand and shook it.  “Alright.  That’s something I can work with.”

 

The two then pulled apart, Ice opening her fan again and Fire warming herself.  Fire gestured with one arm towards the door; Ice entered the Hall first, and she followed a few steps behind.

 

 

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  • 2 months later...

Part 5

 

Land stoked the fire.  The majority of her scouting party was spread out along the canyon wall, a few of them polishing their weapons while the others slept.  She saw a few rocks nearby and opened her palm—the stones floated towards her and began to orbit around an imaginary center, gradually speeding up and tightening their circle.  The diamonds in the Queen’s crown glimmered briefly, and the stones abruptly ground to a halt.

 

Land

 

Hopefully this doesn’t wake you—I just wanted to check in and see how the search is going.  Things here are holding steady: the outposts along the border have been scouted and show no problems, and I have also dispatched messengers to begin negotiations with the other Queens as we discussed.  I suppose nothing momentous happened, really.  The castle just feels a little empty.  I wish you the best of luck in your search.

 

Sky

 

After taking in the message that had appeared in her mind, Land chuckled.  Focusing her thoughts, she composed a telepathic wave of her own.

 

Sky

 

Not to worry, I’m still awake.  On the negative side of things, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to report on.  We’ve nearly reached the end of the canyon path and haven’t found any sign of our culprits.  Tomorrow we plan on searching the foothills, but any further west would cross into Nature’s land, so if we haven’t found whoever is behind the disappearances by then, I suppose we’ll just have to advise her to look into it.  But in all likelihood these are just petty bandits, and they may not fare well in the forests anyway.  Get some sleep, dear; I’ll send you a wave as soon as we complete our search, one way or the other.  I’ll be back in Roche soon.

 

Land

 

She thought of Sky and the message was sent.  One of her companions soon approached, and Land gestured for her to sit.

 

“How is morale holding?” the Queen asked.

 

“Nothing to worry about, Your Majesty,” the knight said.  “We’re a bit frustrated by the lack of results, but we’re still just as driven to locate our quarry.”

 

Land nodded.  “It is rather curious, isn’t it?  I was sure there’d be some sign by now—the remains of a camp, some animal tracks perhaps…the total absence is baffling.”

 

The knight looked up the path.  She fidgeted slightly, mumbling something Land couldn’t make out.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

She chuckled.  “Forgive me, Your Majesty, I was just thinking…it’s nothing, just superstitions.”

 

“Ah.  I admit, I’ve been thinking about that as well.”

 

The knight leaned back.  “You have?”

 

Land nodded, starting to manipulate the rocks in her palm again.  “I find it fascinating which stories persist and which do not.  I remember almost 200 years ago there was a tale of the northern peak being the roost of hawks made of flame, but it passed in only a few years; the legends about this canyon, however, are just as strong now as they were a century ago.”

 

The knight watched the stones rotate around the Queen’s hand.  “I see.  Do you think, possibly, that could mean they are true?”

 

“I don’t believe that to be the case.  I’ve been through this canyon several times before, and I’ve never seen these ‘phantoms’ said to stalk it.”

 

“Oh.  Why do you think the stories persist, then?”

 

Land shrugged.  “I can’t say I understand it.  But that’s why it fascinates me so.  Even we Queens have trouble predicting what people choose to believe—powerful as we are, we are not omniscient.  It’s humbling, in a way, and I also find it reassuring.  Even after all this time, so many people still believe in us.”

 

The knight grinned.  She moved to stand, but her body froze at the sound of distant screaming.

 

“That sounds like it’s coming from the direction the others went…” she muttered.

 

Land rose.  Her troops had swiftly rallied around her, and she wasted no time dividing the party up.  “I’m going on ahead.  You three stay here in case someone attacks the camp.  The rest of you, follow as quickly as you can.”

 

The assigned guards took up positions around the perimeter while the rest mounted their horses.  Land drew her hand to the side and up—the ground beneath her moved, gently but rapidly carrying her to the side of the canyon, up its wall, and then forward along its rim.  As she advanced, she scanned the ravine for signs of trouble.  It was difficult to see in the darkness, but soon she spotted movement and willed the ground beneath her to fall still.

 

There were several large shapes grouped together in the middle of the canyon.  She was unable to make out any details, but even from this distance she could tell there was something strange about their form, though she wasn’t sure what exactly.  When one moved, she caught a glimpse of one of her people lying there battered and bloodied.  Land made a slashing motion.  The canyon floor fractured, and the odd shapes found themselves slipping into the massive cracks that appeared beneath them.

 

As Land descended into the canyon, the shapes began to free themselves, so she thought it wise to arm herself.  Two small spheres of metal appeared from nothing in front of her palms, and they slowly extended to form thin shafts that were each about the length of her arm.  When brought together, they twisted into one and sharpened, quickly hardening to form a deadly rapier.  She held it forward and glared.

 

“Step away from my knights.”

 

It was still too dark for her to make out what she was facing, even being this close to them.  What she could tell was that they were tall: around seven feet, she guessed.  Each appeared to have broad shoulders and large arms, and there was a noticeable lurch to their movements as if they were twitching every few seconds.  One swung its fist at the Queen.  The ground pulled her to the side and she thrust her blade, slicing it down its arm and eliciting a terrible shriek.  Some of the others stepped back, while a few advanced to avenge their comrade; Land drew her sword through them in one non-lethal stroke, simultaneously willing a protective shell of rock to envelop her fallen scouts.  When she looked back to the forms, one of them lowered itself to the ground—surrendering, she assumed.  Then she noticed a long appendage on its back lunging towards her.

 

What are these things?

 

She was pulled aside just in time, her hair rustling in the wake of the attack.  Thinking her too stunned to counterattack, the form pressed forward, and this time Land ducked and let the ground carry her farther back.  The sound of horses informed her that her knights had caught up.  She signaled, and one of the mages created a ball of white light and threw it, letting it arc through the air until it stopped right over the Queen and grew brighter.

 

Land gasped.  Her opponents were reeling from the bright light that now exposed them, scuttling back and regrouping.  Their bodies appeared to be made of purple smoke, loosely held together in a human-like form and with faces composed of nothing but four pale blue eyes.  The creatures’ large arms ended in scorpion-like claws, a match for the long tails they bore, and the ridges along their back and shoulders seemed more solid than the majority of their bodies.

 

The horses started to panic at the sight.  Land had started to recover, and willed the cocoon holding the injured to move back to the rest of the party—several mages dismounted and began to heal their wounds.  In response, the creatures seemed unsure if they should continue their assault.

 

“...I’ve never seen anything like you,” Land said.  She took a step forward.  “I suppose we’ve found the ones responsible for the disappearances in this canyon.  Why have you been attacking my people?”

 

The creatures twitched silently.

 

“You can’t understand a word I say, can you?”

 

One creature jumped forward.  She disabled it with one slash and then pinned it to the ground.  The rest ultimately decided to flee, scampering off into the darkness.

 

Two knights moved to pursue, but Land raised a hand.  “No, leave them.  It wouldn’t be safe to pursue until we know more.”

 

She looked to the one she had downed.  Leaving her sword in it, she moved back and held both hands out; the blade melted into a puddle that quickly spread, flowing over the creature’s body and in seconds coating it entirely in a metal film.  Land clenched her fists, and the shell hardened.

 

The Queen knelt and laid a hand on her captive.  It was still shaking.

 

Seems they don’t need to breathe.

 

She looked to the party: the wounded were back on their feet, and the horses had successfully been calmed.

 

“…I know we agreed to take a rest, but tell me: how would you all feel about making haste back to Roche?”

 

***

 

Hushed remarks rippled through the crowd as the Queen of Knowledge emerged from her carriage.  She slowly surveyed them, and when satisfied, began to walk forward at a relaxed pace.  Roche’s castle was carved into one side of the mountain ring that encircled it, the face dotted with numerous windows and sectioned off by turret-like molding all centered on a massive stone gate.

 

The Queen of the Sky came out to meet Knowledge.  Bowing, she said, “We are incredibly grateful that you have come to visit us, Queen of Knowledge.  Our apologies for bothering you, but we do not know where else to turn.”

 

Knowledge nodded once.  Sky led her inside and through a few torch-lit corridors, eventually coming to an iron door with four guards who parted to make way for them.  The room beyond was small and circular with four small magic lanterns in the ceiling.  Land looked over her shoulder as they entered, but her attention quickly returned to the cage at the room’s center, containing the captured creature that beat against the bears encasing it.

 

“I don’t believe it has stopped attacking the bars since being here,” Land said.  “Whatever these things are, they don’t appear to need rest.”

 

Knowledge strode up to the cage and eyed the monster.  It paused for a second to take note of her, and then continued its struggle.  Knowledge turned to Land.

 

“I only encountered a handful of them,” Land said.  “Even still, it doesn’t make much sense to me.  I’ve never seen such a thing, and even if they had somehow eluded me all this time, why would they wait until now to begin attacking people?”

 

Knowledge closed her eyes and let out a low hum.  She paced around to the other side of the room, Land and Sky waiting patiently for her words.

 

Eventually, the visiting Queen quietly said, “I was told there was folklore regarding the canyon.  Please elaborate on these tales.”

 

Land gave a confused look to Sky, who cleared her throat and stepped forward.  “Yes, there have been some stories surrounding the canyon for about 137 years now.  The people say that dark magic taints its walls, and that sometimes that energy will coalesce into phantoms who will brutally assault any who encroach upon their territory.  Honestly I have no idea how this began, but I believe these stories have become more prominent since the appearance of the Ruinous.”

 

Knowledge nodded and resumed pacing.  Occasionally she would stop to look up at the creature.  Land tapped her fingers against her leg, while Sky stood totally still.  As she came back to where the two of them stood, Knowledge looked them each in the eye before taking a deep breath.

 

“I fear that this confirms a suspicion I have long held,” Knowledge said, her voice slow but clear.  “When the Ruinous appeared, the people of this world saw them as manifestations of the hatred and despair they all felt—and though this may have been meant as simple poetry…I could not help but wonder if there could be more to it.  Could the world itself have reacted to the malice within it?  Could the forces of magic be so malleable that they answer to the powerful emotions, needs, or beliefs of the masses?”

 

She gestured towards the creature.

 

“In light of this, I believe my conjecture was correct.  The people of this world believed that monsters inhabited those canyon walls.  And so the magic of this world created monsters.”

 

Sky’s eyes widened.  “These…these are the same as the Ruinous?”

 

Land went to her side and took her hand.  Knowledge shook her head, saying, “Not the same, no.  These may be born of nightmares, but the Ruinous, born of an entire world’s hopelessness, were infinitely more fearsome than these will ever grow to be.”

 

She looked up.  “…Despite myself, I find this truth to be fascinating.  To think that something so primal, the very magic our world is woven from, can be influenced subconsciously to such a scale…”

 

“If you’re right, then doesn’t that mean any story people create could become reality?” Land asked.  “Enough people just need to believe it, and it will become true?”

 

Knowledge nodded.  Sky shivered.

 

“We cannot allow that to happen,” Sky said.  “These legends will have to stop.  We must forbid such stories from being told.”

 

Land’s head snapped up.  “We will do no such thing!”

 

“Land, you must see how dangerous this could become.  Any manner of abomination could simply be birthed into the world by accident—if we allow these tales to spread unchecked, we have no way of knowing what might happen!  It’s possible that something even worse than the Ruinous could appear!”

 

Land tugged on Sky’s arm.  “We are not going to tell the people what to believe!  We couldn’t do that even if we tried.”

 

“It is for their own protection.”

 

“It is wrong.  Don’t you realize that?”

 

Sky sighed.  “…I know that it seems extreme, but what else can we do?  It is our duty to protect the people of this world.”

 

“Of course, but that would be going too far.  Even assuming we could stamp out all these stories, it would be impossible for the people to be happy under such strict circumstances.”

 

Sky looked down.  Knowledge turned towards the two of them, saying, “If we take away the freedom of humanity, then we will do far more harm than any monster they can create.  This is indeed a dangerous discovery, but we must take care not to overreact.  We must guide humanity, not imprison it.  Discourage stories with disastrous potential, do your best to keep them safe from their own imaginations, but it is not even a Queen’s place to codify thought.”

 

Knowledge took one last look at the creature.  “This will not be an easy thing to deal with.  There is no doubt that the magic of the world will provide us with many monstrosities that we will have to cope with.  But—“

 

“Even if it isn’t easy, this is the right thing to do,” Land interrupted.

 

Knowledge stared hard at her.  After a few awkward seconds, Land gulped and said, “M-My apologies, Queen of Knowledge.”

 

Staring for a moment more, Knowledge closed her eyes and started for the door.  “I shall inform the other Queens of this news shortly.  Since these creatures exist within your domain, I leave it to you to decide how they will be dealt with.  I wish you the best of luck.”

 

“Thank you for your help, Queen of Knowledge,” Sky said.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Land said.

 

When Knowledge was gone, the two of them turned back to the monster.  It was still trying to break free.

 

“…Word is going to get out,” Sky said.  “People will know that these stories are true.  They may even work out that any story could be, and try crafting new tales that will put this wretch to shame.”

 

“They have a right to know,” Land said.  “As for the rest…”

 

She rubbed her arm.  “I’ll admit, I’m a little worried too.  But I think we need to have faith in people.  Just because a horrible story is made doesn’t mean everyone will believe it, and if it remains in obscurity it will eventually die there.”

 

Sky set a hand on Land’s shoulder.  “…Then, we shall trust them.”

 

Land smiled at her.  “These things—they need a name, don’t you think?”

 

Sky chuckled.  “I think that’s something we should leave to the people.”

 

 

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  • 4 months later...

She walked.  There was enough light from the torches lining the walls that she could make out a bend in the tunnel ahead, but as she approached it, her feet ground to a halt.

 

…Where am I going?

 

She turned to look back the way she had come.  The tunnel extended on and on, with no end in sight.

 

I came from that direction.  Back that way is…

 

She blinked, finding that she could not remember.

 

Where was I before this?  Was I going somewhere?

 

A compulsion to press onward filled her, but her confusion as to why met it in a stalemate.  She stood still for she knew not how long, until she heard something: a slow, whispering voice echoing out of the tunnel behind her, almost a wail, she thought.  No, as she listened closer, she realized it was a song.

 

“Mourn for her, the Deity of Ocean…”

 

Panic seized her as she remembered.  She took off running around the corner, knowing only that she had to flee from that song.

 

I don’t remember why, but I need to keep ahead of it.  I need to…

 

Her thoughts became foggy again.  Shaking her head, she said, “No!  I must not forget!  I must continue—I must find a way back to my…”

 

The words eluded her.  Her pace slowed as she tried to remember what she had been saying, and soon she could hear it again.

 

“Mourn for her, the Goddess of the Seas…”

 

She hastened her step once more.  Remember.  Remember.  Remember!

 

Something about that song was alien.  It chilled her to her very core, as if gently clawing at her heart.  She focused on this fear, and remembered, and ran.

 

I have to leave this place.

 

She rounded another corner and stumbled.  Standing before her was a tall woman with tan skin, a long, dark blue tunic wrapped around her body and sandals on her feet.  Her hair was an odd shade of grayish-blue reminiscent of the ocean, and atop her head was a golden crown with nine points.

 

Something about this person was familiar.  Her eyes fell, seeing her own tunic and tanned legs and sandals.  Then she remembered.

 

“I am you,” the woman said.  “I am what you have lost.”

 

“…Yes,” she said.  “That’s right—that’s what I look like.”  A million questions raced through her mind.  “How can this be?  What is this place, and how did I get here?  Who am I?”

 

The other woman became difficult to see clearly, as if she was fading out of existence.  “This is a place of loss.  All things that are lost gather here: memories, knowledge, even souls sometimes.  You entered it, and you began to lose yourself.  You lost me.”

 

She reached out towards the other woman.  The distance was too great, and before she could close it, the song could be heard once again.

 

“Snared in the abyss of lost emotion…”

 

The panic swelled.  The other woman headed down the tunnel, gliding across the surface of the ground like a leaf in the wind.

 

“Wait!”

 

The woman turned down another tunnel, and she began to forget.  Clenching her fists, she said, “No.  I shall not have any more taken from me!”

 

Clinging to the memory, she ran after the woman, catching a glimpse of her as she turned yet another corner.  When she eventually caught up, the woman had faded even more, now but a phantom barely visible to her eyes.  She continued her pursuit.

 

The ground slanted uphill, and she came into a large chamber.  The phantom stopped and turned.  She paused to catch her breath, and then asked, “Is…is there a way out of here?”

 

“Of course.  You know where it is.  All you have to do is remember.”

 

She grunted.  “This is why no one should come to this wretched place…”  A curious sensation formed in the back of her mind as she heard herself speak.  “…What did I just say?”

 

The phantom nodded once.  “Ah, that’s right.  That memory is not yours.”

 

A second phantom emerged from the first, completely identical.  It darted off into the distance without a word.  She started to chase it, but the first phantom moved in front of her, shaking its head.

 

“No, Your Majesty.  Some things must be forgotten.”

 

The phantom drifted again, faster this time.  She hesitated a moment, and then followed, pushing herself to keep up before she could forget what she was doing.  The ground inclined more and more, and the uphill path soon slowed her down to the point where she lost sight of the phantom.  She continued to push on, knowing that she had to move forward, but soon that knowledge ebbed away, and she leaned against the wall and attempted to regain her bearings.

 

What…was I doing…?

 

“You must hurry,” a voice quietly urged.  “She knows you’re here now.  If you don’t escape soon, you will be lost for eternity once again.”

 

She looked up, struggling to recognize the voice.  Soon she heard footsteps.  Turning, she saw someone approaching her: a tall woman with tan skin, her frayed hair an odd shade of grayish-blue reminiscent of the ocean.  Atop her head was a rusted, broken crown with four points intact.  A mud-caked blue tunic hung off her body, ripped nearly apart, and through the empty space she could see deep, bloody gashes in her skin.  Her face was blank, and tears constantly streamed from her lifeless eyes.

 

“Is there none who cares to set her free?”

 

Clarity returned as the other woman’s face suddenly twisted with rage.  She scrambled up the path as fast as her legs could carry, hearing a hideous scream chase after her.  A point of light appeared in the distance.  Mustering up all the strength she had, she made one final sprint; something sharp grazed her arm, but she ignored it and kept running, knowing only that she had to escape whatever was making those screams.  The light grew brighter, closer, and she felt a spark rush through her body.  She remembered.

 

The exit!

 

The Queen of the Sea burst out of a hole in the side of a large rock face, falling into a crumpled heap on the shoreline.  From the ship nearby, her soldiers spotted her and rushed to her aid, two of them helping her to stand.

 

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?”

 

She tried to steady her breathing as she looked back at the small rocky crag she had emerged from.

 

“…Majesty?”

 

“Ah, yes, yes I’m fine,” Sea said.  She looked to her soldier and said, “Thank you…”

 

She trailed off and stared at the soldier, unable to remember her name.

 

***

 

From her stateroom, Sea looked out the window as the tiny island slowly disappeared behind the waves.  She and one of her best units had sailed northwest from Ceandi to see what they could find, stopping at this island due to the great magical energy radiating off of it.  Since she did not know what to expect or how her soldiers would be affected, the Queen had chosen to enter the tunnel alone, and the deeper she went, the stronger its spell became.  Her memories had mostly returned after reaching the shore, but there were still a few corners of her mind that felt fuzzy.

 

I was lucky to escape.

 

She sat down at her desk and stared at the map.  Her hand absent-mindedly slid up her arm, towards the bandage that covered the cut she had received during the last leg of her journey.  The pain was the only proof that she had not been dreaming.  Taking a quill, she reached to the corner of the map and drew an ‘X’ to mark where the strange island was, and then paused as she considered what to title it.

 

Sea furrowed her brow.  There was a name—she could not remember where she heard it, but it felt as if she had always known it, that there was already a name for this place inserted into her memories.

 

The Well of Oblivion.

 

Uneasily, she scribbled in the name and walked away from her desk.

 

I want to speak with Knowledge about this.  And then…perhaps I should simply forget about it.

 

 

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