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Destiny of Arecie
Flame Queen's Saga

Flame Queen's Saga

The prevailing mood on the dreadnought-class war vessel, 'Argent Radiance', was of boredom at the staggeringly menial task of far too easy conquest. For the glorious, ascendent Kingdom of Zafet's grandest ship of the line...an attack on a humble little city-state vaguely part of the enemy alliance was unthinkably lacking in prestige and honor.

This was a ship packed to the gills with second and third children of nobles, of those whose aspirations depended on making a name for themselves. The city of Rakofil was a strategically useful outpost and very little more - the well dressed officers and tacticians milling on the deck dissatisfied with being little more than a courier for a small occupying garrison.

In other words, it was a ticking time bomb for Queen Ecitas Ei Zafet to be at the helm.

The vast throne room set aboard the primary cabin was the sole quiet place on this entire ship, festooned with the banners of Zafet's coat of arms, empty but for a long carpet leading to the raised, gilded throne

"Your Majesty," chimed in a dashingly violet-clad sellsword, soft-spoken and courteous, his lavender-hued hair a short but pristinely kept cap atop his perfectly chiseled features. "We've no sign of any enemy reinforcements on the horizon. As expected, the alliance did not foresee the completion and launch of this warship, and this city is undefended. Our attack can be launched whenever ready...and I advise it to be soon," his voice darkened, "as our crew is getting...impatient."

"Thank you, Baiyir," Queen Ecitas immediately interjected, cutting off the overtone of noble unrest where it stood. A hand sunk into her well-curled, iridescently fiery locks, perfectly framed by the lavish gold crown atop her head, her eyes refusing to ever open. "I assure you I've not overlooked their complaints as to the onset of this campaign. They wouldn't allow it for one moment."

Ecitas had to bite her tongue at the haste with which she'd grown tired of this situation. The king had simply thrown too much at this campaign, leaving those with inconvenient aspirations all in one place. It wasn't important -who- held Rakofil, only that it was held in some state or another. From an overhead view, this was just a spot on the map to take as easily as possible.

Who cared if it became a shameful atrocity, burning a city to ashes with nary a worry?

"...Your Majesty. You still haven't learned how to hide it." Baiyir patted his immaculately kept suit free of sudden upstarting embers flickering through the room, one single spot on his shoulder remaining just slightly blackened. Sweat began pouring down his brow, but he made no move to wipe that away.

The queen's tension was just as much a time bomb as war-thirsty young nobles in this case.

Ecitas remembered her routine when she got lost in thought. Pushing her arms forward, she sucked in three long breaths - then spread them upwards and skywards, letting it all out in one go. A second time, then a third time - the temperature in the room gradually settling back to a cooler breeze.

"...hah. Baiyir...duel me, if you wouldn't mind. Anything to pass the time until our opponents can muster a delegation." The queen crossed one leg over the other, displaying the sturdy and rugged boots with steel cladding that clashed with her lavish, vividly red and gold dress.

The sellsword crossed an arm over his heart, his other hand descending to the rapier fixed to his hip. "It is always enjoyable to witness your eagerness in this art, Your Majesty."

Queen Ecitas sharply rose to her feet, boots clanging, her arm sweeping out to one side fast enough to part the air. From a nearby barrel, a gleaming gold axe hurtled through the air, guided by a yellow crackle of mana towards the queen's hand.

"Would you show me your magic today, Baiyir?"

"I will not, Your Majesty."

Not a moment later, Queen Ecitas hurtled towards Baiyir, axe raised up high, ready to follow through, to cleave her courteous attendant in twain.

It was enough to put just the slightest smile on the sellsword's normally cool expression.

"Brilliant. I wouldn't want to deny myself this show." Baiyir's rapier lifted in a flash, the shockingly sturdy needle of steel jabbing Ecitas' axe mid-swing to divert it sideways. It only bought him half a second - the axe halted in mid-air, fixed by an aura of yellow, revving up a spin and hurtling towards Baiyir's side like a tomahawk, accompanied by a forceful change in the queen's stance.

"No matter how many times...I never understand you. How your whisper of a sword can defy me like this, without our land's art." The queen reached out with her opposite hand, a second axe launching from its container, this time gripping onto it directly.

Like a fairy dancing on the breeze, Baiyir hopped upwards, toe landing on the first axe as it hurtled sideways, leaping up skyward above Ecitas, rapier at the ready to lance his employer through the face.

"I wonder how well future listeners will grasp it? How obvious it is...what you lack." Baiyir's smile widened as his sword jerked to a halt just before the queen's nose, its tip ever so slightly drawing a pinprick of blood. Ecitas' magical hold on her flung axe froze to catch her opponent's sword, both weapons crackling with an ever more intense grip shifting to a ruddier, golden hue. Baiyir didn't hesitate to let it go, the hilt growing hot to the touch, landing deftly on his feet at the queen's side...ready to dart off to the side of a much more direct swing of that second axe. "When they sing this song in times to come...will they see the dramatic irony?"

"Will you ever cease about this fixation? You already know how much I despise songs." The queen's eyes remained shut, but tightened, flares of heat erupting from her body, adding a shimmer to the air - while the axe and rapier that were hovering in the air clattered to the ground.

"Focus, Your Majesty," Baiyir's voice murmured in Ecitas' ear, followed by a brutally sudden punch to the queen's neck, sending her staggering and stumbling sideways. She grit her teeth in frustration, doubling over and pressing her free hand to the ground for support.

"...one day, I will grasp why you can do this to me without a trace of magic." For just a brief second, there was a bitter spitting in Ecitas' voice, before - another breathing exercise, in for three seconds - hold - release. A second time. A third time, before she gradually rose back to her feet, rubbing her neck sorely.

A pleasant, melodic little laugh spilled from Baiyir's lips, the sellsword not even having to move another step to retrieve his simple silvery rapier, clasping it back into place. "You're rather charming like this. Despite everything, you stay true to yourself, no matter how much the world forces you to lie. It's why you will make a wonderful song."

"Stop it, at once," Ecitas commanded, dusting traces of soot off of her dress, carefully re-aligning her crown. "I came on this expedition to get away from those bards, and I'd hoped you wouldn't echo their incessant refrains. It pains my ears, an obnoxious replacement for the howling of flames and the breath of the bellows. ...mm, is there a forge aboard this ship? If we're doomed to this embarrassing stain of a campaign, I'd prefer it spent making a better fitting crown."

Baiyir concluded his part of the duel with an elegant bow, and a simple "Sadly not, Your Majesty."

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Pushing both her arms out forcefully, Ecitas yanked her golden axes back to her hands with a zip of yellow mana and wordlessly stepped forwards, past her sellsword and towards the vast doors leading to the deck. She'd almost made it to the threshold, when-

"Queen Zafet!" barked a new voice, shoving open the gate. One of the helmsmen tasked with communications, with even his lower ranked position awarded with full plate armor adorned with golden trim. "Rakofil has sent an envoy, if you care to hear it."

Ecitas froze in place, still and elegant, though Baiyir could see the subtle way the muscles in her shoulders relaxed. "I do, in fact. Are they simply surrendering and leaving it at that?"

The helmsman shook his head. "They're offering different terms - they want to make an exchange. They have a captive who we put a bounty on, and they're wanting to hand her to us if we withdraw. Laughable conditions, really, do they really think the Witch of Weeping Skulls is worth more than their whole city? Hahahah."

"The...Witch of..." Ecitas murmured under her breath. "...they have the Witch...of Weeping Skulls?"

"...hahah, oh dear, now isn't this perfect," Baiyir mused.

All at once, the air of regality exploded into hellfire. Queen Ecitas' eyes flung open, yellow irises contracted in fury, her grip on her axes threatening to break them in half. "The Witch is in their city?! How long have they had her? Where is their keep? Did the envoys bring her? No, they wouldn't bring anything like that with them! She's still alive, of course she is!"

Ecitas flung aside one axe, embedding it into the door just above the helmsman's head, forcing him to back away as the queen grasped his shoulder with one flame-erupting hand. For all the world, she looked ready to kill this man on the spot for simply mentioning the Witch. "Q...Queen Zafet, please, they didn't tell me anything else of the-"

"Tell EVERYONE not to move this ship a damned inch! I will not have a single one of them get to the Witch before I can! Drop your anchors immediately until I return, do you understand?!" Ecitas' breath was running ragged already, not even waiting for a response before sprinting at blazing speeds out the door.

The vast deck of the Argent Radiance was bustling with equal parts actual working sailors, and battle-ready nobles chatting as though this was no more than a soiree. All eyes instantly shot towards the furious queen as she ran at reckless speeds across the ship's length, eyes fixed only upon the crowded towers of Rakofil in the distance, pushing aside anyone who happened to be in her path, and leaving them singed with the flames trailing in her wake.

Some were alarmed, others annoyed...and there was a fair scattering of amused chuckling from some of the men at arms.

All Ecitas could hear was the clatter of her own footsteps against the wood, the crackling of the flames in her wake, the whipping of the wind...and soon enough, the gentle crashing of waves. She leapt over the railing between the deck and the front prow of the ship - and hurtled herself once more, directly over the ocean, hurtling closer and closer to the waves...

Only for a pillar of stone to rise from below, right beneath her feet. Ecitas hunkered down, leapt from this spire, onto another one forged by her will, golden-hued light blazing from her hands towards the seas below, leaving a trail of rocky obstacles to the massive warship below.

From the deck of the Argent Radiance - and from the walls of Rakofil, the Queen of Zafet was like a meteor leaping across the seas, aimed straight at the heart of the city, to the majestically spired castle towering over the crowded housing around it.

In a matter of minutes, she was in range of the guardsmen on the battlements, hastily hurling arrows, fireballs, spears of ice, and bolts of lightning towards Ecitas. All of them were halted by the sheer, blistering heat wrapping the queen. Panicked calls from a surprised guard forced those on the walls to fall back and reroute to intercept Ecitas on land, those in the streets and on the harbor hurrying to gather in greater numbers to put up some kind of shielding.

It was a strategy Ecitas could barely see in her blind fury. Her target was the highest tower of the castle - from there it'd be much easier to find where the dungeons could be. She hurtled closer and closer to the harbor, leaping from pillar to pillar...only for the last one, right next to the docks, to be pushed higher and higher, a column of stone rising to alarming, unstable heights beneath Ecitas' feet. She cared little about its longevity - right when the tower cracked, rising a hundred meters above the sea, she let it go and launched directly at her destination, sending her platform toppling over into the seaside streets of Rakofil.

Above it all, she bellowed, "WITCH OF WEEPING SKULLS, SHOW YOURSELF. MY NAME IS ECITAS EI ZAFET, AND YOU DEFILED MY ANCESTORS. SURRENDER, AND I WILL KILL YOU MERCIFULLY!"

The queen's declaration was punctuated by a loud crash into the castle spire, breaking a gaping hole in its flank, sending up plumes of smoke that blotted out the early evening's stars, a stain over the deep violet sky and the setting sun behind.

Rakofil's guard scrambled to converge at the castle, the queen's rampaging impact taking precedence over the lumbering, now slightly blocked off ship looming in their harbor - but too few of them remained within the apex of the castle itself to prevent Ecitas from making her way through. The furnishings in the tower's peak buried in rubble, Ecitas fumed and burned, making her way down the steps like a rumbling storm on the horizon, constant and implacable. This was the most defensible part of the castle, and so, she figured, someone of rank and power would hole up near here with the city facing a looming siege.

It wasn't long at all before she found her mark.

Just beneath the tower's base, Ecitas found herself in the throne room of Rakofil, a much more plainly furnished and functional space than in the likes of Zafet. The guardsmen were thrown off by her sudden arrival, still scrambling about to mount a defense - and they arranged themselves quickly in a circle around a plume-helmed older woman, short red hair streaked with the white of age and wisdom.

The flaming queen's axe burned and glowed with heat.

"Tell me where you are keeping the Witch of Weeping Skulls," Ecitas growled...before sucking in a tornado of a breath through her nostrils, embers visibly swirling in its wake.

The higher ranked woman peeked through the shoulders of her guard, pink-hued eyes wide at the incarnation of fury blazing before her. "...I guess I didn't expect this!" her reedy voice puffed out with just a tinge of awe. "Didn't expect it to be so personal for one of you all. Not gonna mince words with you - I sent our guards out to find her, to negotiate with you, because I just plain couldn't remember which dungeon she was in. She could be down below, she could be near the outpost, she could've escaped in the year or so since they caught her. Heard she was a crafty little bugger. You're gonna have to wait until-"

A lower door slammed open, a breathless, sprinting captain of the guard resting his arm on the cross-brace, curly red hair matted with sweat. "Lord Mayor! The prisoner you had us find - she escaped from us. We think she's somewhere here in the city. Send everyone out to find her, before the Zafet-"

The captain's gaze quickly moved from the surrounded Lord Mayor to the inferno of a queen looming at the center of the keep, freezing in place. "...Lord Mayor, is that-"

Queen Ecitas didn't bother saying farewells. These people were means to an end of her target. If she was free in this town, then they were useless to her purposes. With a flash of mana and a forceful push of her arm towards the wall, the queen carved yet another gaping hole into the side of the keep, leaping out into the raucous evening with jets of fire behind her, leaving the bewildered Lord Mayor and her guard huddled near the opening to watch her movements. It wasn't hard to keep track of the inferno of a queen - she practically signalled her location with every movement, unable to keep herself from bursting into flames. The walking calamity roamed the streets, slower and steadier, but with ruthlessly persistent pacing.

"Don't we have ourselves a problem here...Captain Ollimus. We'll talk about the prisoner later," the Lord Mayor huffed out, pushing her guards away to give herself room to breathe. "Don't let anyone stay off the walls. Have them use flares to signal when that mess is moving towards them. Get anyone who's capable with barriers - of the red kind, considering how easily she carved through our castle - and establish a perimeter around her. Ideally, we let her find that prisoner and capture them both, but if she's on her own, she takes the higher priority. Understood?"

Ollimus gave a firm salute, and breathlessly dashed out of the keep, an escort of guards following him to coordinate the city's defense - leaving the Lord Mayor with just a handful of soldiers, overlooking Rakofil's bay with her newly expanded window - giving her a clear look at the Argent Radiance on the horizon.

"We've held out this long precisely because war goes like this in Ark-Korya," she mused, throwing a glance to the high detail map of the city on her bureau. "They're not about to get away with a haphazard invasion like this!"

Aboard the Argent Radiance, the crew left in the wake of Queen Ecitas' rapid exit watched with amusement as she made her way across the bay with such wild fury.

"What, so she's thinking of conquering this whole city on her own?" a particularly lavishly dressed noble remarked, long blonde hair cascading nearly down to his feet - which he couldn't help but tousle with just about every statement.

"All she told me was that we're dropping anchor and waiting for her," said the helmsman who received the Queen's orders.

"And who is she to say that?" the noble laughed. "We all know she's here as a show. Hell, the King might've even sent her here to die! Hahahahah. What say you, men?! Shall we wait and wait until we find out the useless queen died like a fool? Or will we carry onwards and claim our prize before moving on to greater deeds?!"

The latter declaration brought much more enthusiastic cries from the men at arms, gaggles of impatient soldiers gathering closer to the fair haired noble - gazing at the towers of Rakofil and pointing to the most expensive ones, discussing it like children would a pie on the stove.

In a corner away from the rapidly forming mutiny, Baiyir drew a short fiddle from its case, his slender sword gliding across the strings in the merry tones of a bard’s tune.

“When the queen’s thirst for vengeance, could no longer be quelled,

She took flight like a comet, where the innocent dwelled.

There the golden clad knights gazed, from the galleon hulls,

As the princess of forges, sought the witch of fell skulls.”

He tapped his chin with his rapier’s guard at his newest verse. “It’s a start. How satisfying to have a foe at this point in the song. What kind of resistance will you put up to our wonderfully brutish queen, oh mysterious witch?”