Everything was dark. The pale light that tried to dissipate the darkness utterly failed. There was no light strong enough to purify the void overwhelming the world. Dunes of darkness, seas of desolation, roads of despair.
A musky stench assaulted her nostrils, the mixture of a sweet aroma and a putrid one.
She opened her eyelids to notice the light wasn’t that of the sun but fading candles that needed to be changed. Her thoughts were sluggish, but even more so her body. A numbness overcame her entire being, making it difficult to even move. Her mouth was dry and her skin sticky, but it was hard to feel it. It was hard to admit that it was her own body. It was hard to keep her eyes open.
Aloe looked at the canopy of the bed, her eyes unblinking.
They became irritated quickly by the oppressing incense rather than the passive drying. Every breath seemed to prolong something. Something that maybe was not worthwhile prolonging.
Her ears rang in painful confusion, but as she tried to grab them, her arms fell to the side in faulty coordination.
That movement soon proved to be a bad idea.
A spike of pain assaulted her body, her nerves crying in agony, begging her to stop. Stop what? She was not doing anything. Aloe tried to raise her head to have a better look at her surroundings. She could not see much beyond her naked body, its surface littered with water markings. As soon as she settled her head on the pillow, her pain intensified.
“AAAARGH!” The scream left her mouth without her being able to control it, so overwhelming the torment was. “OUUUGH!”
Her body writhed beyond her demands, only infusing more pain with its erratic movements. Her stomach burned, her hips cried, and her crotch ached. Her whole being was numb, her brain drowned in suffering, but she still could feel the dry tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Are you alright, venerable scribe?” A woman asked beside her. Aloe hadn’t noticed her entering the room.
Opening her eyes proved a monumental task as her body begged her to keep them close. She only managed to open her right one, and even then, it was blurry from the tears. Aloe managed to identify the woman as one of the maids of the palace, her fair skin distinctive.
“Lu... lu?” Aloe asked, her voice raspy and weak.
“I know of no Lulu, venerable scribe.” The maid spoke soothingly but decisively. “Please tell me how I may help you.”
It was hard to think straight for Aloe, her head kept pulsating akin to a second heart. The pain was maddening. H-how? Even in her own mind, it was difficult to form full words. I... vi-vitality. I’m low. The-the-the infusion is not working. Breathing soothed her pain for an instant, only to hit her on the stomach with the might of a war hammer.
“B-bring... bring me the pell...ets.” She explained to the maid. “The ones... on... my clothes...”
Aloe blinked.
“Which are your clothes, venerable scribe?” The maid asked with a mask of nervousness, with multiple clothes on her arms.
W-when... when did... she grab them? It was then that she realized she had passed out for a few seconds, the wax drop clinging on the candle next to her had moved significantly from its previous position.
“Ah...” Aloe reached for her clothes to grab the Cure Grass pellets, but her body failed her once more and so her mind as she fell from the bed, having miscalculated her movements. “AAAAAAAH!” A guttural scream left her mouth – air rushing painfully of her lungs – as she impacted with the ground, her body shattering like porcelain. Her throat burned from the scream and her eyes itched from the tears pouring out, even when there was no more water remaining on her body.
“Venerable scribe!” The maid shouted and rushed to her aid, the clothes dropping behind her.
“...augh...” No more air was left in her lungs, Aloe could not muster a scream no more, barely a groan.
Without difficulty, the maid carried her on top of the bed, the displacement causing even more pain to her body, but she no longer had the strength to protest.
“Here, scribe...” The voice of the maid was shallow by now, the ringing of her ears overpowering her. Everything was overwhelming Aloe. She tried to cry again, but no more tears came out. “Here... eat it.”
Aloe felt the salty maid’s hand on her lips, but also something cold. A pellet. She opened her lips and mechanically scooped the pill with her tongue. She didn’t leave a trail of saliva behind from her dehydrated state.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It took a few seconds for the Cure Grass remedy coated with aloe vera sap to travel down her throat, but the instant it hit her stomach, it absorbed the vitality from the evolved plant byproduct with ease. With her stomach this empty, she didn’t even need a second to gain the full effect of the pellet.
The pain diminished partially as her ‘toughness’ internal infusion kicked back into working, but it wasn’t enough. The vitality absorbed was only enough to refill a normal adult. And an adult’s vitality only produced a meager infusion. Maybe enough to tolerate the pain and nausea from her menstruation, but it was for from enough for her current affliction.
“More...” Aloe moaned in misery. She felt as if she was going to pass out at any moment now.
The maid obeyed and put two more pellets in her lips. Aloe downed those two too, but now that her stomach had burned something, it took a few seconds for the vitality pills to take effect. The diminished returns from her vitality were unmistakably painful as the two pellets barely allowed her to reach two-thirds of her maximum deposit.
Even with her infusion working at sixty percent effectiveness, the pain was far from bearable.
“More...” Aloe grunted. Unless she maxed her deposit, she would not be able to cope with her aching.
“I... do not think that is sensible, venerable scribe.” The maid responded. “I do not know what medicine this is, but taking so much cannot be good for your body.”
“I... see...” The scribe exhaled, her head spinning around as the air left her dried lips.
And then her consciousness faded into obscurity.
----------------------------------------
Her steps echoed through the bustling corridors, overpowering the chants of the masses. Maybe not as strong, but her presence was undeniable. She knew where to find Aaliyah.
It was still early in the morning, so it didn’t surprise her when the guards fought to open for the first time.
“Move!” Rani commanded and pushed one of the doors open.
But she wasn’t the sultanah. Even with her strength stance, Rani could only manage to slightly displace the colossal stone door, a monument to a centuries-long legacy. Just a few centimeters, but far more than any commoner would dream to achieve with a casual sway. A test of strength, of undeniable might. The audience hall was empty except for a single person.
Aaliyah-al-Ydaz, ruler of the Sultanate of Ydaz, Emir of Asina, master cultivator, lady of the Qiraji, the Heavenly Descendant of Sulnaya.
Her mother.
And the world’s most prolific rapist.
“You must be more interested in that girl than you let on if you are willing to make such a fuss,” Aaliyah commented uninterestedly. “Is that girl really that important?”
“You know this is not about her.” Rani looked at the lying woman – her posture of decadence as she rested on her throne – with hardened eyes. “You are doing this just to spite me.”
“Perhaps.” The sultanah admitted casually. “But you need to remember something, child.” She didn’t stand up, Aaliyah just looked upwards toward her, yet the pressure of a gaze almost knocked Rani off her feet. “What if I am? What would you do if that were the case?”
The princess gulped saliva unconsciously. Aaliyah may be her mother, but she didn’t doubt the woman would kill her if she became a nuisance. Nuisance, not enemy, important distinction. Rani still didn’t know how Hassan managed to get out alive. Maybe he didn’t and the sultanah just killed him without any of the sultanzade knowing. Considering how she killed her own mother and siblings with ruthless efficiency, she couldn’t deny that possibility. Kinslayer was just one of many of her titles.
“If that were the case,” Rani took a deep breath, thinking well of her next words, “I would say you are not different from Kyra.”
Rani almost dropped to the ground as she felt the ceiling collapse onto her.
She panted.
It was just a foul play of her mind, an illusion caused by the pressure that Aaliyah was exerting, just like the mirages of the desert sun. It was rare to see bloodthirst coming from that walking brothel of a woman, mostly because those who saw it were already dead.
The mention of her mother, and especially comparing her to the previous sultanah, had enraged Aaliyah.
“I see what you mean.” Instead of choosing violence – which Rani would argue Aaliyah already did as she was kneeling on the ground with sweat trickling down her back – the sultanah opted for diplomacy. A tool she preferred as the sword was considered barbarian. “I should not be playing with the toys of my children, that is not what a mother does.” Her eyes shuddered with animosity. “If I look like my mother, Rani, you look like me.” That wasn’t praise, no one wanted to be like Aaliyah-al-Ydaz. “But unlike you, I do not fear pain.”
The emir’s breathing became rugged. She had been read, no part of her soul and heart uncharted. She was dancing on the matriarch’s hand. For how long has she known? Rani could not tell.
“So be honest, you are too cowardly and ruthless to worry about a potential concubine,” Aaliyah’s mouth corners contorted like horns. “What is the true reason for your visit?”
Given the opportunity, Rani decided to go for the throat.
“A few decades ago, two sultanzade were born on the same day. Their names were Kareem and Khalida.” Rani spun her tale. “Both children were the children of the sultanah, of course, but... It always seemed weird to me. The sultanah of Ydaz, one that is said to control the natality of the Qiraj itself, birthed two children when she always decided to give birth to a single one. More importantly, one of the sultanzade, Kareem, was way slower in his Nurture compared to his peers. Upon checking my curiosity, I found that another woman gave birth in the palace the same night, a maid.”
Aaliyah had remained still during the whole monologue, almost amused by it. But at the mention of the last word, she moved. The sultanah was a mountain, even the slightest shake could cause devastating avalanches. A single shudder in her body was more significant than the terror of a million citizens.
“Alas, the procedure had its hiccups, and the child was stillborn. Having pregnant maids is not surprising in the palace of Asina, a lot of male sultanzade like to have their fun, but in the case they father a child, the maids are usually sent away with money, maybe to live in a villa, away from the royal fathers. Yes, the child was stillborn, but the maid remained in the palace. Strangely enough, she was moved to the outer palace with the sultanzade, which is a strange move considering you would not like the poor woman to see the father of the child she killed. Even more curiously, the maid was promoted to head maid.”
“Stop the theatrics, get the point,” Aaliyah growled, finally having lost her patience.
“Aaliyah, tell me,” Rani asked with both confusion and determination, “how did you manage to father a child?”