Chapter One

Conception

20 Years Earlier

Kolasi, Prison World

Kyla strode into the throne room, a cautious smile gracing her features as she absorbed the sight of the Pirikan Queen.

The Queen’s beauty was as ethereal and limitless as starlight, yet as foreboding and threatening as a timeless vacuum. Those intense, violent, ruby eyes darted around like a newborn baby’s, drinking in every detail of the scene, yet when they reached Kyla, there was an aged hardiness to them. Narrowed slightly, a flame burned within them, reflecting her internal fury and anguish and, at the same time, glinted with a triumphant ferocity; rimmed with black eyeliner, they gave her a reptilian appearance.

There was a deep sadness there, hidden in the black pits of her pupils - a melancholy, bubbling away, disguised just beneath the surface.

In the grimy, burned-orange light of dusk, a dull, bronzed effect highlighted The Queen’s chalk-white skin, making it appear tanned, disguising the vampiric reality of her complexion. Without blemish, she glimmered with vigour and juvenile energy. Her cheekbones, jawline, and nose had been carved in such a sharp, delicate, and symmetrical manner it was like they had been carved by the gods themselves, as little more than a vanity project.

The orange light seemed to darken as a result of The Queen’s aura, one of undiluted power, hatred, and desire. Truth be told, it made beings lesser than Kyla want to run and hide. Of course, she herself did not, and would never betray such a desire.

The Queen’s lips - full, plump, and blood-red - were pursed and the ghost of a satisfied smile played on them. Adorning her head was a magnificent ebony crown. At the front, five uniform spikes protruded vertically, so sharp that even to graze one would result in certain laceration. At the base of each spike was a glowing, fine, crimson gem.

In a high, compact ponytail in which not a single stray hair escaped, The Queen’s effervescent, gleaming, platinum-blond hair shone against the evening light. It swished gently, following each movement of her head. She stood tall and imposing beside her throne of obsidian (a chair both beautiful and disturbing; intricately carved and interspersed with veins of red; the back, mirroring the crown, was bedecked with five barbarous prongs). Her metallic, white dress shimmered in the evening’s slight breeze and revealed strong, toned limbs. Despite all the many battles the Queen had partaken in, not a single scar appeared on her body. A curious, ornate dagger sat on the arm of her throne: the blade was black with lines of gold passing through and the hilt was red. Her right hand toyed with an anemone.

Hanging from the ceiling above the throne was a unique emblem - a crucifix carved from black rock entangled by a gleaming snake of red metal with emeralds for eyes. The same emblem decorated the various banners around the throne room.

Kyla reached the Queen’s left side. Titus, the Queen’s hulking, decaying brute of a bodyguard who had been her constant companion since her ascension to the throne 20 years prior, stood to the Queen’s right. His unfocused gaze strayed off into the distance.

‘I have considered your proposal and I do not feel that I can acquiesce to it,’ Kyla said, her mental apprehension covered with a tone of conviction. ‘It is a plot too fraught with peril.’

‘Yes, I’m well aware of the risks,’ she responded - without meeting Kyla’s gaze - in a soft, lyrical voice. She sank into her throne; the impact was immediate: her twenty-four Lozzha Nakh warrior bodyguards moved into a tighter circle around them, drawing in close like a noose. ‘Playing both sides typically is rather a dangerous game. However, I see no other way that we can accomplish the task of bringing such a creature as the Summoner into being.’ She paused long enough to sprout a smirk of her own. ‘Need I remind you how your efforts to achieve the same goal went?’

A flame of anger licked Kyla’s mind, but she kept her head. ‘That raises a pertinent question - why would you want this accomplished? The Summoner could destroy us all.’

The Queen lifted her finger to her chin. ‘You’re quite correct. However, you need to remember what we hope to achieve; the Summoner is our ticket to freedom. To domination. This way, not only can we manufacture the process, we can control it. We can guide the… creature its entire upbringing. Brainwash it, if you will, to our ways.’

At this point, the final person in the room, Kyla’s son Vasilios, cleared his throat. He was a tall, stocky male with slicked back mahogany hair and a beard flecked with white as though he had been out in snow. Having that moment returned from Earth, he was dressed in a sharp black suit and military boots, the latter polished to a gleam.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Kyla’s heart swelled at the mere sight of him. In all the thousands of years she had spent in this universe, there had never been a creature who had meant a thing to her, until the glorious day she birthed her pride and joy.

‘There’s still no guarantee it will work,’ Vasilios said, his voice dull and toneless. ‘It failed when you and Jasper attempted this with me, mother - she’s right about that. Who’s to say I shall succeed?’

The Queen’s head snapped towards him, the same way a viper’s would towards a mouse. ‘Trust me,’ she growled. ‘It will work. Do not presume to doubt me. I am not your mother - I will not stand your insubordination.’ She grinned. ‘You’ll succeed. There’s always a first time for everything, after all.

‘In any event, I have spent countless years researching, something your parents neglected to do. Whilst I know it’s far beyond your intelligence to comprehend, the science, and the magic, checks out. You’ll see. Your hesitation merely confirms my theory - you just want a way out.’

The Queen stood again, the icy expression returning to her. She stepped over to Vasilios and began circling him.

Her voice dripped with feigned softness. ‘You think the years of mundanity are beneath you. You think you’re meant for greater things. Unfortunately - for you, anyway - you're not as impressive as you think. You had your chance and, regrettably, the universe saw fit to decide that you were not… sufficient.’ She rested her chin on his shoulder. ‘This is your chance. You can be part of something monumental. Do this, and your place by my side when we rid ourselves of Jasper is guaranteed.’ She strode back to her throne. Kyla wore a thunderous expression.

‘Alternatively,’ a cruel smile danced on to The Queen’s lips. She sank into her throne and faced Vasilios, her gaze fixed on those two dark, soulless pits. ‘You can continue to question me, an act which I will have no choice but to perceive as you opposing me, and die. Here and now.’

Her Lozzha Nakh took a step forward, tightening their circle further. Titus placed his hand on the dagger at his waist.

Fear accelerating her steps, Kyla strode forward and shielded her son from the Queen. ‘You will not harm him. You will not leave this room alive if you even attempt to do so.’

The Queen’s smile widened. Her red eyes flamed.

Vasilios was unmoved. No emotion registered on his sharp features as he stepped out from behind Kyla and stood beside her. ‘Relax, mother, she won’t harm me. She cannot achieve her goal without me. As usual, I am… essential. Why would she kill her only hope? It’s an empty threat.’

The Queen laughed. Hard, but mirthless. ‘That’s funny, darling. I had no idea you had any comic value to offer this conversation.’ Her features hardened. ‘Once again, your inflated sense of self-worth has blinded you to, and far exceeded, your actual value. Don’t get it twisted - you are my easiest option. Not my sole option. Make your choice - live, or die.’

There was a long silence. The Queen lost interest and stared out of the window, twiddling the anemone, while Kyla fumed. Still, Vasilios remained blank.

‘Very well, my Queen. I apologise.’ He bowed low, drawing a twitchy eyebrow from the Queen, who was unable to discern the gesture’s sincerity. ‘I will proceed as planned,’ he said as he straightened himself.

The Queen smiled at Vasilios. ‘Good. It will be worth it in the end. Go, and don’t fail me.’

Vasilios turned on his heel and sauntered from the throne room. As Kyla watched him leave, she realised she could not stand the thought of him being taken from her. It was difficult enough allowing him to go and live among humans, never mind losing him entirely.

One day, her son would not have to suffer such ignominy. First his father, now this hellspawn? It was more than she could stand. But, she must stand it. For now.

‘This is promising, yes,’ Kyla said, approaching the throne, fighting to keep a tremor from her voice; it would merely serve to feed the Queen, whose eyes indeed glinted with fervour. The Lozzha Nakh inched closer. Titus half unsheathed his dagger. They couldn’t harm her much; all the same, she got the message and stopped her advance.

‘But don’t you dare humiliate my flesh and blood in any circumstances, or I swear to you and whatever god you believe in, you will pay.’

The Queen smiled yet again, meeting her gaze. ‘Darling, I am the god I believe in. Besides… my faithful,’ she gestured around the room, ‘will have their weapons pinning you to the ground before you can blink. Even if they can’t kill you, they do possess the ability to tear you limb from limb.’ She rose and moved to the window overlooking the Kólasi wasteland behind her fortress, turning her back to Kyla. When she continued speaking, her voice had softened again, though it was tinged with hostility.

‘Watch yourself, or you’ll go the same way as Jasper. You two are part of the old guard… your time is running out and I am more than happy to watch as you crumble to dust. The way I see it, you have two choices, just as I afforded your son - embrace and thrive with the new… or decay with the old. I don’t particularly care which.’

As Kyla turned to leave, the Queen dropped the anemone to the floor and crushed it beneath her heel.