The Secluded Queen, page 19
Rhea, recognizing her opening, surrounded Laexor and Raktor in purple barriers. They were impenetrable and entirely confining. “Enough! You will suffer. You will suffer for the rest of your lives! Where you go, my blessings will not follow, but my curse. A curse against the land of this city and you mud monkeys—you favorites of my mother. But...” She materialized a small green emerald, formed in the shape of an egg. It glowed green, with a peaceful power. “You will not suffer in my Virtice. Get thee hence, spawns of my mother! May this blight hinder your crops and poison your bodies forever.”
With terror, Laexor watched the floor, the walls, the very earth turn a putrid, infested, infected black. A plant in the corner of the room wilted and turned to dust. Then she roared, “Be gone!” and dropped the emerald to the blackened earth. Magic erupted, and Laexor, Raktor, and the rest of humanity shifted to a new realm.
Gem Shavek urged her hobbled mech forward, trudging on, deeper into the magical forest surrounding the Virtuusian City Pillar. The march to Turhal had been arduous, but the push to Pillar was grueling. The defenders were sparse but vicious, and with each skirmish, many more of the stalwart pilots died in the cockpits of their war machines.
Gem’s mech struggled to climb over a large fallen tree, its damaged leg hissing and cracking as it strained. They had to have passed at least a hundred different waterfalls, the noise loud and deafening, the accompanying rivers large, deep, fast-moving, and extremely difficult to ford across. Bugs were everywhere inside her exposed cockpit. Every inch of exposed skin (and when the bug was particularly nasty, even the parts of her shielded by coveralls were in jeopardy) had at least one bug bite, red and inflamed, some oozing where she couldn’t endure the incessant itch. If you saw Gem in that moment, you surely would have backed slowly away and applied an abhorrent amount of hand sanitizer. She looked diseased, and this greatly distressed her with concern for her unborn baby.
Suddenly, a flash of light came from the West, brighter than either of the suns in the sky. The light was a brilliant green, cutting through the dense forest and surrounding landscape as if the forest didn’t consist of tall trees and thick undergrowth at all, but instead was populated by glass replicas of these things. Then, a rumble shook the earth, and a moment later, a wave of green energy hit her tattered mech division. She screamed as the power shocked her flesh and seized her body, pulling her from the current lush forest and into blackness.
When Gem woke, a single harsh sun bore down upon her, blinding her as she lay on her back in a hot and dead land. Her head was pounding from the heat, but as she cast about looking for some relief from the unforgiving sunlight, she realized with horror that she, along with the other mech pilots, were in a wasteland. She knew something must have happened, assuming that they had triggered some magical trap as they pushed through the forbidden magical land on their way to Pillar, and that said trap had expelled them to this horrific place.
Over the next several hours, the remaining pilots had gathered their meager rations, found a hidden source of water behind a barren hill, and had constructed a shelter from some sticks and tall weeds. Even with all of this, there was not much hope of survival. It was a literal wasteland, with either dead land or tall inedible grasses and sagebrush. The heat was incredible, and the options for a permanent shelter to bide their time in while they awaited rescue were slim to none.
But they did survive. Months passed, and a friendly pilot who had started her career as a medic assisted Gem in the massive undertaking that is childbirth. After twenty-four hours of labor, a tear that nearly caused her to bleed to death, and her baby getting stuck in the birth canal, her baby boy was born in the early hours of a cold October morning, fat and healthy. She named the boy Sargon, and had gifted him the sole surviving remnant of his other parent–the dagger pendant sent to Turhal by Cory Rockhart. The baby seemed to understand somehow, though the little thing still could not control his body on his own. The newborn would find the mental capacity to grip the dagger pendant, smile each time he held it, and refuse to let it go until he went down for a nap.
On the day of Sargon’s second birthday, after more than two years of surviving on rodents and bugs in the wilderness, Gem collapsed from exhaustion inside her shelter, made from woven weeds and plastered mud. The toddler miraculously brought help for his poor mother, showing an intelligence and aptitude beyond his years. He had toddled to the neighboring tent, sobbing, screaming, and when the occupants rushed to the child’s aid, suspecting him injured or lost, Sargon had pointed to his own tent and had clearly articulated, “Help mum.”
After being revived by some sort of mystery stew, the others urged Gem to eat more than her share, as she had become the most skilled at traps in their years alone in this godforsaken land. If they lost her, the rest would surely starve alongside her. But the young mother, when the food was brought to her, never ate a bite; instead, she offered it to her toddler.
Gem Shavek died alongside Sargon in her weed tent. In her final moments, a blinding red engulfed her and her toddler. As Nurtia claimed her soul, she witnessed a glowing red leopard conversing with her toddler, and her two-year-old speaking back to the War god Urartu.
The world Good King Laexor was transported into, along with the entirety of Atlantis, looked the same but felt different. It lacked... something. Laexor immediately felt slower, weaker, and less intelligent. The Great City of Atlantis, broken before The Great Shift (which they determined to be the best description for what had happened to their people), was decimated. The building foundations were ripped from the earth by magic, which came crashing down to the ground in a magnificent display of destruction. The buildings appeared to have exploded from the inside. The impact from The Great Shift had generated outward pressure, and the brittle brick and stone had surrendered their rigid hold and had broken apart into the streets in a tumult of broken glass and rubble.
The immense destruction was apocalyptic in and of itself, but to add to this hellscape, the ground had become black and sickly, poisoned by the goddess Rhea herself. What farms, gardens, and plants had resided here died instantaneously. The people were growing ill as well, affecting new mothers the most grievously. They died quickly, but the agony of their deaths from the Blight made it feel like a drawn-out, agonizing death. They died with a death rattle unique to the curse. For that is what it was–a curse, not a disease.
Laexor gave the order to move their people north through the great forest that covered the area. The trees were different here, not conversing with one another in a chorus of whispering leaves but yielding to the wind wherever it blew. Even the wind was different, lacking the energy and life it once had in the land of magic–the land of Virtice. The wind once was a source of clarity and would help those troubled with a problem or issue envision a solution. Here, in this world without magic, the wind was a mindless reaction to Mother Earth, and no benefit came from it. In short, they lost the magic that enabled them to invent and repair great machines, build advanced infrastructure, and they lost the fuel that powered their entire lives, Virtuuce, stored within canisters. The world was unknown, deadly, the ground was poisoned, their advanced technology was either destroyed or rendered inoperable by a lack of Virtuuce, and their enhanced ingenuity was diminished to what it truly should have been, to that of an ancient civilization.
Laexor gathered his people and migrated northeast into the forest that was always green. When he viewed his once beautiful city for the last time, only the Eternal Tower remained intact, with the corpse of Cory Rockhart in the launch bay.
It had been discovered after The Great Shift that his aerial mech had been programmed to fly away from Atlantis, revealing his treasonous and cowardly plan to flee the battle. As such, the survivors, Laexor included, left him behind to rot.
Laexor stumbled over a boulder concealed by leaves, his legs weary, his heart rate high, his body dehydrated. It had been challenging to gather the survivors, to mobilize them, and to sustain them all as they moved through the wilderness. Myra was still with him, always near him, never speaking, but always guiding. Her presence pushed him to try harder, be vital to his people, and be a better king. For this reason, he migrated his people out of the blighted Atlantis, out to find a new home–a new place to nurture into the heart of humanity.
On the long journey, many of his people died from exposure, and Laexor, in tune with death, buried as many as he could by his own hand. When his people argued, he had a simple reply: “All are owed final respects, which shall be paid.” He knew that the only way for a soul to be at rest was through the ceremony of burial. It was nothing complex, as the entire ceremony consisted of three parts: first was to commit oneself to help another in a way that they couldn’t help themselves, second was to respectfully dispose of the body through burial, cremation, or other means, and third was to offer a heartfelt farewell to the deceased, which usually consisted of a prayer. Once this was completed, the soul would be welcomed into the Halls of Nurtia, to live in peace for the rest of eternity. To Good King Laexor, there was no more fabulous gift to give the fallen.
After weeks of migration, Laexor finally led his people out of the Forever Green Forest into a clearing. At the center of this clearing was a ruined fortress, one that seemed to have been left vacant for hundreds of years. It was here that he guided his people in digging and setting the first footing for their people’s new home–a new Castle he named after his wife, Myra. The Castle Myra took decades to construct and would have taken much longer if it hadn’t been for the old fortress to build over. Laexor died of the blight before the completion of Castle Myra and, per his final request, was encased in stone within the walls of the new castle. His sword and hourglass pendant were buried alongside him, and his son Raktor ruled in his stead.
Chapter 16
Her knees felt bruised, her body ached, her hair was plastered to her scalp from sweat and grime, and the gash in her leg was stinging. All of her precious buildings, save her little cabin, had burned down around her as she knelt, unable to find the will to rise. Her black armor was now gray with the ashen remains of her home. Her legs had gone to sleep, and she was sore and stiff from the climb at Kaibab and the battle. She simply could not find the will to rise. Everything she had loved at her new home was now gone. It had taken her so much time and energy to build it all up, to repair the buildings, to care for her animal friends, and simply to learn how to live. Now, it was all gone. In addition, she was being attacked by a mysterious sorcerer, she had killed another human being, her animal friends were either dead or lost to her, and she was all alone. There was no group of Generals to discuss tactics with, there was no husband to share her thoughts, feelings, and fears with, and there was no army to offer her protection. She was very alone and very small. She was utterly unprepared for the fight ahead. She knew nothing about this sorcerer. She did not believe in coincidences; this sorcerer had threatened to take all that she had, and he had somehow delivered on that promise on the same day. Why had he tried to kill me... twice now? The notion that someone so evil was out there, waiting for his chance to murder her, made Veronica want to cry more, but lucky for her, there were no tears left to spill. Her body felt like the desert she had just spent the day in. She was hot with fury and completely parched.
Looking up, the Queen saw Amaryllis emerge from the tree line by Chicken Coop Way, her coat caked with ash, dirt, and blood. She moved slowly, almost cautiously, and looked haggard. She paused about ten strides from Veronica and used her head to beckon her back the way she had come. Veronica leaned heavily on her spear to stand, gathered her satchel, which was still stocked with a few supplies, and then followed Amaryllis. It was a slow walk to the tree line, and if it were not for her spear, Veronica would have fallen a dozen times due to fatigue. When they reached the trees, Amaryllis didn’t offer her a ride but instead walked beside her, matching pace with Veronica. Amaryllis is tired, and she has her magic to aid her. I had no such magic. If I were truly a weakling, I wouldn’t be standing right now. I need to stop being so hard on myself.
The trees still flowed around the unicorn, making a clear path for both of them to walk unhindered.
Everything appeared gray to Veronica. It was as if the land’s beauty was now dead and meaningless to her. The ground that had mended her soul, buoyed her spirit, and healed her in her grief had turned from a colorful and bright novelty to something reminiscent of a graveyard. Or of that forsaken mausoleum that held what remains of my Edward. The only desire she could conjure up from her crushed heart was a need to leave this place and escape the soul-sucking air of the forest. The sun was now setting, and the air was filled with smoke, which turned what little sunshine could break through the forest canopy and the pollution into a deep, blood-red color. The pair made their way through the forest, up towards Edward’s grove, following the stream as the Queen had done a few days prior.
Once they reached the grove, Amaryllis nudged her to get her attention, then guided her to a small opening in the hillside. The space had been hidden from view behind a bunch of tall flowers and vines that grew on the edge of Edward’s grove. The opening was large enough for Veronica to enter without issue and magically expanded when Amaryllis entered.
Once inside the opening, an incredible cave opened up around their heads, though it was too dark to tell how tall the cave was or how deep it went into the hill. Amaryllis continued guiding her into the dark. The once illuminating magic that ran across Amaryllis’ body was no longer there, drained from the recent combat.
After a short walk, the cave was illuminated red from above. Upon further examination, Veronica realized that a small hole was in the very top of the cavern, which allowed the blood-red sunset to spill in beautifully. Amaryllis, after successfully guiding the Queen to a place safe as any, stumbled to the center of the cavern, collapsed directly below the hole, and laid still. Veronica joined her, resting her head on the unicorn’s side. Even though Amaryllis was filthy, her coat still felt incredibly soft, and it did not take long for her to fall asleep.
Veronica awoke sometime later to the red-tinted light of the moon, the peaceful light colored red by the smoke-filled air. The forest is still burning. The moonbeams cut through the smoke and spilled into the cavern. The full moon looks beautiful tonight. Only the edge of the moon managed to peer over the rim of the hole above, but as time passed, it continued to creep forward, letting more of its light into the cavern. Once the light from the moon reached Amaryllis, it turned her coat an eerie purple color, which intensified the longer the moonbeam rested on her, shifting into a deeper shade of purple. The unicorn let out a loud sigh. “Nothing feels better than a moonshine soak.”
Veronica froze. She scanned the cave frantically, trying to find an explanation for the mysterious voice.
The voice came again, strong and confident, yet feminine. “You’re not going crazy, Queen Veronica.”
The voice had undoubtedly originated from the unicorn.
Amaryllis sat up on her side and cranked her neck back so she could look directly at Veronica.
The Queen swallowed, paralyzed with shock. She was speechless. After a short while, she stammered, “Di... did you just speak to me?”
Amaryllis bobbed her head. “I did, without a hint of an accent, I might add. Your language is quite simple.”
Veronica shook her head and fell backward. “That can’t be possible. You’re a...”
“A unicorn?” Amaryllis snorted and brayed loudly. “I have shown you unbelievable magic that you have accepted without question, yet me speaking with you is what you consider unbelievable?”
Veronica cleared her throat, taking the moment to regain her composure. “I apologize; I have never spoken with anything other than a human before.”
Amaryllis snorted. “And before I saved you from those soldiers in the forest, you had never believed a unicorn could exist, and yet here I am, and there you are, dumbfounded over my being able to speak. You humans don’t believe anything unless you see it with your own eyes.”
“I suppose I was acting a bit foolish.”
Amaryllis nodded. “Indeed you were, but that tends to be the way with humanity.”
Did she hold me in such great contempt this whole time? Veronica pushed that thought from her mind. Your body shows what you feel. She arose and stood tall, placing the spear on the rock floor. “I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for all of the help you have offered me.”
The unicorn studied the Queen, then nodded. “I can see that you are truly grateful.” She righted herself. “And you’re welcome. Between travel and battle, I nearly ran myself out of Virtuuce.”
“Virtuuce? Is that what you call your magic?”
Amaryllis nodded. “In the most basic of terms, yes.”
She views me as a buffoon. “And you can run out of this Virtuuce?”
“My Queen, as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever.” She turned her head back into the light, turning dark purple, and breathed deeply. “But the full moon replenishes it.”
Veronica had so many questions for her mythical friend. What to ask first? How many could she ask before she became a nuisance?
Amaryllis stretched her front legs out straight and lowered her head into a stretch. “If you have questions, which I suspect you might, you best be asking them quickly. I can only speak your tongue while the light of the full moon rests on my body.”
Veronica opened her mouth to ask her next question but was interrupted again.
