Chapter 47 A Bloody Queen #2
Every civilization knew him—she made sure of it.
She spread the news, remembering how he glistened with glee at the crowds.
If she couldn’t find him, she would destroy his legacy, break his spirit, the way she couldn’t break his body.
Aurora shared what he’d done and who he was: an enemy of the universe, whom she would crush. The public listened.
In private, she asked Cynthia to bring her the Memorium.
Her advisor shook her head. “Another Soul Stone? I don’t advise—”
“I shall not shatter it,” she cut Cynthia off, casting her a strange look. “But I would not grieve if Folkara were to fall.”
They had, after all, declined Aurora’s hand in alliance.
“Aurora,” her advisor chided, voice edged with warning.
Aurora’s voice was tight, her vocal cords scratching as she said, “If fate decrees my ruin, then Mial and I shall both be cast down.”
Cynthia met Aurora’s wrathful gaze but held fast to the thought that, perhaps, for the fated babe within Aurora’s womb, this was the surest path to balance.
With seeming ease, she soon presented Aurora with the Memorium.
?
The birth of the child was awful, as if fire was being born from Aurora.
A fire made from a baby girl.
Aurora did not name the thing. She did not even know what it truly was—a being more powerful than her, gifted its power from the Soul Ruby that betrayed her. She didn’t know what to think of it, nor how to hold the babe.
Yet, she loved the child. More than that, she feared for her.
Aurora would stand in her relocated quarters, breastfeeding the babe and watching as the war crept closer to her kingdom. Everyone who approached wanted the girl. Aurora wondered if she should simply give in.
The first time she witnessed the war, she stayed within the kingdom until she couldn’t anymore. She left, wielding the Soul Ruby.
Aurora brought every Phoenician to their knees.
“Bring Mial next time!” she shouted to the outside world. “Only then will you gain what you seek.”
By then, nearly half the universe had perished, lost to senseless violence. Aurora, ever stubborn, refused to see it as anything more than that.
“Your Highness,” a guard knocked on the door. “We discovered something in the cellar.”
Aurora held the baby girl’s head to her chest as she followed the men. Her garnet red dress trailed across the ground behind her, the sleeves slipping down her torso as she cradled the girl.
She didn’t notice how her stride had changed. What was once a cautious step had become a stride full of anger, hate, and fear.
With the guards, she walked deeper into the castle than ever before, where they kept weapons and prisoners. She wasn’t sure what she would find—but no guards could hurt her. She was too powerful. It simplified the world but complicated her place in it. Life bowed before her and broke behind her.
When they stopped, Aurora was face-to-face with a woman—a frozen woman, with skin the shade of ice and hair the color of snow. There was no breath in her chest, yet the air around her was cool.
Mial stood beside her frozen body.
Aurora turned to him, her mouth open wide and her heart caught somewhere in between. She saw in him the only person who had ever held her, trusted her, loved her.
She feared it was a falsity.
“All you must do is give her to me, and everything will be as it should,” he whispered, gently reaching toward the baby.
Fury burned in Aurora, and the fire wrapped around him like a cloak. The audacity of such a man. It was all a falsity.
“You’ve held a mistress our entire life together?” Aurora accused.
The fire rose, and Mial said nothing.
“One or the other, Mial,” she said. “The mistress or the babe.”
A cruel smile touched his lips. “You will die protecting the girl,” he said, his tone cold, “and she will be mine while you lie in decay.”
Aurora stepped back, clutching the babe as the fire continued to burn. Never before had Mial let her see his sinister side.
“It’s your choice,” he continued. “The woman or the babe.”
“You will never have her,” Aurora roared, her voice echoing with fury. “Even in death, I will keep the child out of your grasp.” She turned sharply, leaving Mial with her last words. “Take the woman. She means nothing to me anyhow.”
Aurora disappeared before he could fight.
?
By the time the Arcanes reappeared, most of the population had perished. This time, Aurora had a plan: she would cast the Arcanes into a new universe, erasing them from memory. In part, she sought to save the people, but more than that, she wrought the doom of Mial.
She was almost certain she would perish. Before the end, Aurora had Cynthia invoke a vision.
“Show me the way to victory,” Aurora demanded. “For the babe.”
Cynthia took the child in her arms. Aurora stiffened but allowed it.
Her eyes glowing between blue and green, Cynthia said, “We freeze her as the woman below had been. Light shall ease her into stasis.”
“Can you do such a thing?” Aurora asked.
Cynthia nodded. “After, we put her in the Lume,” she said—a sacred volcano on Folkara. “She shall be discovered only when she is ready.”
“Not by Mial?” Aurora asked.
“Not by Mial.”
Aurora nodded, the words crumbling in her chest.
“Is this what you wish?” Cynthia asked.
“Is this all that can be done?”
Cynthia averted her gaze, nodding reverently to her longtime friend and short-term leader. “Yes,” she replied, fully aware of the word’s implication.
Aurora would die.
“Before,” Cynthia said, clasping her best friend’s hand as she held the child. “Would you like to name her?”
Aurora held the child’s cheek, a single tear trickling down her own.
“I believe she is far too ill-fated to give her the hope of a title.”