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Madness Led by the Hands
Intermission – Guilt-Trip

Intermission – Guilt-Trip

No one really acknowledges just what celestial bodies mean to all surface dwellers alive. They shine daily, shine faithfully; making for sometimes warmer, sometimes colder alterations.

The natural anchor of our psyche, ruler of biological rhythm and governor of well-being and satisfaction. Even if dear suns momentarily hide out of sight, one can be sure they will pop up again. Eventually.

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My hands stretched out uncontrollably for the two bright discs as if drawn in by magical attraction, bent fingers forming a fist as I felt the instinctive desire to claim them all for myself.

A ray of light in the long tunnel of darkness. Bacon of salvation in a sea of madness. The essence of hope. A chance he’d given me. This I have to admit since it’s the truth I cannot warp nor embellish, sadly.

There it got hit hard, this useless pride of mine. The instincts of a queen… Endless years, dreadful decades, lonely centuries... spent with nothingness as the sole companion.

Seldom had I been in my right mind, though, for it took what little I could spare just to safeguard the dying embers protecting me from eternal madness.

But time passes by as it leaves marks. On the outside, I appeared the same egoistical adolescent that shoved dirt down dissenting throats, a bright girl with a washboard as–––no, the asshole is sad history worthy to rot away in the darkness.

…today was just too bright. The sky dyed in a deep shade of purple-blue, my endless desire for the sun wondrously fulfilled. Two-three hundred years ago I might’ve been burning for revenge, might’ve spent every day–––be it sunny or stormy, moon-covered or sun-baked–––racing to prepare for war, muster my children, and devour what I could get my hands on.

Ravaging the forest–––so as to say–––plundering resources until only wastelands were left in my wake... Wrong, who am I kidding? 'Might' was a petty misconception, a cue derived from instincts and the fear of losing myself, because that should’ve been but a certainty.

By then I’d have hopelessly poisoned myself with an almighty toxin called stress and indulged in the madness that was revenge. I slowly strolled to the moss-covered, flat stone that had caught my eye.

Slow like a snail, slow enough to feel every withered tuft of grass on my bare feet, as they sunk down in the squishy, warm mud underneath.

I was given all the time needed to marvel at the moist, comforting wonderfulness while stroking my baby reptilian companion. This will never happen, as I am no longer the same as before. And there’s the catch...?

Perhaps the changes were even more drastic than expected? ...not that I hate it or anything. Arriving much too speedily at my destination, one of my beloved children greeted me, patiently waiting for me to sit down as it remained standing, its sturdy back covered in colourful blankets.

Few thoughts later, another brought me a teapot of fresh water, one of the few herbal bags luckily surviving the ravages of time hanging at its side, and an iron cup in danger of being crushed between herculean mandibles.

This made it impossible not to embrace the excruciating truth. My children are too young, too inexperienced to comprehend the world of my desires, yet too old to ever learn about it.

What a tragedy... no one has a proud name, no one is honoured, no one born out of love, all produced by manic–––ancient humans called this process automatic, I believe–––parturitions.

With the sole aim of ensuring my survival, the terribly useless life of a naive freak-queen driven into a vicious trap cloaked by foolish desires. Personal misgivings hurt the most.

Having silently criticised my child, I found myself deforming the teapot with my fingers. This won’t do. Irascibility runs deep in our cursed blood, as do atrocities, murder and cold calculation.

Tendencies even time feels hopeless against. I closed my eyes, and while I tried to forcefully cool down the hot, gushing sentiments within me, I couldn’t help but remember the asshole’s pathetic performance: The many empty promises, the gentle cajoling, numerous hot kisses leaving a perfidious aftertaste, the countless warnings left rotting in a corner of my deceived mind.

Now I see clearly, the old me has given up all reason in exchange for blind, passionate love. The kind stabbing you in the back, whilst cracking jokes. All I ever wanted was to escape my instinct’s ravings. Yet I succeeded in doing the opposite. Perhaps that was exactly why this betrayal hit me so deeply?

But life sure goes on, doesn’t it? Wounds heal, scars fade... only undying hatred lasts forever. A terrible beast, imprisoned deep within us and from which prison it must never ever be allowed to break free.

A calamity held back, if anything. I felt the teapot getting warmer and warmer, the water boiling, hissing, close to evaporating. It was now the right time for a handful of tea leaves.

Maybe I’ll succeed today? Placating my stressed mind with this convenient thought, I enjoyed the gentle caresses of the bright suns as I waited. Is this what a mother’s embrace feels like?

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I woke up to the present due to a certain unsavourily gnawing glimmer of a thought spanning across all daydreams. Human, isn't it? ...my memories suddenly intermingled, asshole and conman overlapped, before I opened my eyes, a hideous fit of anger stirring up the suppressed Hivemind.

I had this ugly side quickly stifled, locked away behind layers and layers of prayers, where it hopefully remains for Kingdom Come–––but I’d already spurred on my children.

Of course I did. Ruined their day so easily. It only saddened me further. The worthless result of my tempering attempt. Fighting instincts is but partaking in a losing battle for us Queenants. I turned my attention to the teapot, separating herbs from the water while expectations led to a crampy scrunched-up face as I sipped my cup.

Better my ass! Bite into any random root for more aroma. I did lie too, perhaps even more than the conman whose name had already slipped me. One’d think he was but a mere errand boy, the way I treated him.

Or possibly even worse? Then came the nagging feeling that my instincts had pulled a fast one on me. Not in the form of making life difficult for my children–––as I’d have crushed this thought immediately if it ever came to my mind–––but the conman I already consciously felt some animosity against.

Given this premise, it really eluded me until it was too late… Right. The tea, a mirror of my conflicting feelings. Bitter. Terribly bitter. Stingy to my throat. Perhaps it rouses the dead? I only hope my partner is better at brewing tea. I smiled. That made me feel worse. There was no helping it.

I just hope the bill isn’t too long… and normalcy or if possible a reset of our relationship is within my means. How dare I treat a partner the same way double-faced humans do?

Did this make me any whit better? Since when has the queen in me become what I abhor? He had his… peculiarities. No question, some marbles were absolutely missing, his habitual patterns betrayed serious mental problems and the emotional grimace the man deemed an as attentive as trustworthy expression to fool the unsuspecting was but a hollow mask.

I know. Without substance... However, some random Mister Perfect would’ve been much more dangerous to trust. Not to forget that ultimately, the ritual had been my free choice.

And mine alone! I could have placed all my bets on waiting for another one to show up since a hundred years or so were still possible to endure.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

But would the me a hundred years later be the same? I was already on the verge of a mental breakdown when he showed up… Reason upon reason for justifying this selective choice came to mind.

In the end, I cared not about circumstances, not about motivations nor any other factor and now… he’s mine, I’m his. King and Queen. Regents of the State.

Yet, I treated him like a liar, a bandit–––no, like the worst kind of slave. The one happily sent to the gallows. Reason? Don’t know. Only… weakness repulses my kind for sure.

Weakness’s imperfection, damaged, disposable–––that’s it? Even Gods have such moments since perfection equals destruction on a fundamental level where things do not play out like envisioned–––and just once sufficed for any of us to become a joke.

Yet my deplorable instincts spat on his worth and continue to do so even now. And here I sat, heartily enjoying the bright afternoon suns as one man wrestled with death.

Again, I became all too aware of how many lies were hidden in our short exchange, lies woven into poisonous threats. To think he did not stoop so low and just kept silent when the situation developed beyond his means.

Only stick, no carrot... Just what does he think of me? The personification of a slave driver or a plague? I dared imagine not. Will he break under the pressure?

Can he… take care of himself, hunt the necessary, survive the dangers? As a lone, weak visitor from another world? And without the power and skills necessary for survival?

The man lacks knowledge on all fronts, making him extremely vulnerable. Alas, the two suns shone brightly. Totally oblivious to the darkness in my heart. They shone. I facepalmed. A glance and I knew what he was.

Though it pains me to admit, it was the main reason for the ritual still. Chosen folk are different from the rest. After all, fate had placed too heavy a burden on us, a… task.

One from which there was no real escape, an inviolable curse as ascertained by the realists or unfortunate among our ranks. One that didn’t allow for escape nor salvation except after the task’s completion.

I had once personally seen a Chosen dying to his enemies’ vicious means just to rise again and continue his onslaught while inhabiting this slowly rotting body of his.

That’s why Drifters are welcome nowhere. Even as a skeleton, there was no salvation! But it’s me that killed my partner, no? Murdered in cold blood... Lies! All of them!

Hands grab my hair and painfully ruffle through it. As they ripped out many grey-blue, silky strands it took some time before I realised these frantic claws were mine. Stained. Cursed.

Our State has time before its collapse. The Muddy Expanse, although poor in both resources and lives to the naked eye, wasn’t so fragile as to succumb to a mere centuries-old curse.

It’s a dull land, ever-stricken by calamities and disasters where neither withered trees nor doomed creatures seem to thrive–––the asshole’s conclusion as he was grinningly whispering the devastating curse’s last lines.

That face full of unforgettable malice. How wrong he had been. For true life trod but hidden underground. Life in all shapes and forms.

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As I watched the setting sun, various memories still flooded my troubled mind. What kind of terrible creature had become of me? I indeed perceive my children’s location.

Can distinguish on which planet they thrive on, the universe they are in, dimension, timeline–––all coordinates in my mind. Baggage for now. A talent I should have awakened much further down my path.

After the State became so numerous, the concept of planets turned irrelevant amidst the dawn of the interstellar era. Lies, lies–––nothing but lies and deceit!

Even the Cores were the worst I found! Treachery! And he’d asked so innocently. Why bother...? As punishment, I filled my cup again and forced myself to gulp down the cold water, now tasting even worse.

I desire my partner’s survival. But… will I ever see him again? What about the time needed for a proper explanation? To beg for forgiveness? Will it ever come?

He won’t just disappear from my life, screaming and cursing at me from the safe horizon? I reached for the teapot–––again–––and poured myself a third cup of bitter disappointment.

Had that asshole and his methods rubbed off on me? No, this is the one and only thing I cannot accept! That cold-blooded, calculating, treacherous–––treason? How’s that possible when things were never real?–––I hate the asshole.

My cheeks itched, I reached for them and felt the moisture on my hands. Just great... Tears, really? I, of all creatures? That asshole wasn’t worth me shedding a single tear over him.

Yet my tear ducts seemed to refuse that line of calculated reasoning. There I sat, grumbling at the moon in the purple sky, nothing but unintelligible gibberish even a diviner would find incomprehensible. ...stop, I’ve to stop!

The thoughts were slowly killing me. Have to start over, forget the old, welcome the new! Or else I’d be destroyed by his slow-acting poison rather sooner than later.

That toxic asshole...! My left hand sank unexpectedly into nothingness. I looked down with perplexity clearly written on my clouded face, and almost immediately noticed the mossy stone’s sad fate.

I must’ve applied too much strength… at least the cup isn’t powder, nor is my child harmed. Well, a deep handprint had been added to the fading decorations, but fortunately no hole.

My penitent look wandered aimlessly around for as long as night needed to welcome first sunshine than midday and later evening.

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How long did I space out…? I wonder if he's hurt? Dang, I cannot dispatch a messenger. This cursed seal not only locked up my children like the most unscrupulous felons, but my body and mind also were prey to its invisible clutches.

I remember... those who had escaped past catastrophe in secret did so with few eggs, calling upon them a cursed destiny. All poor souls doomed by the same unforgiving task as soon as death breathed down their predecessors’ necks.

With lifeblood as a catalyst, the larvae awaken, mature early, perform their duties and die to pass on the torch. That’s the way a State without its queen survives. My heart ached. I looked helplessly at my idle hands, a flood of tears wetting my chin.

Why do my children have to devote everything to my safety, to live but a worthless life and all I can do is watch on helplessly as they die one after another?

Desperate resolve shot up my fuzzy head. This won’t do, I need to feel it for myself! I closed my burning eyes and concentrated hard.

In the beginning, it yielded nothing outside the confines, yet with how mad I went at it, the confines ultimately softened and my lost heart perceived what I so desperately searched for.

Lifecandles. The day all extinguish marks the day danger drives our State to extinction... I knew what it meant, the implications–––all of it! Necessity...?

Damn you, cruel instincts! Anyway, I heaved a breather. The man was... alive, for now. His candle lit–––a little dim perhaps? Maybe he ditched me despite all malicious warnings and is about to leave the forest?

Serves me right. A smile came over my pale lips, as pathetic and bitter-sweet as it was forlorn. In the unlikely event my partner braves all dangers, in the unlikely event he does return, in the unlikely event he chooses to linger here...

I shook my head in disappointment as it hit me hard how many ifs were attached to my wishful thinking. There was only one thing left to do. To hope. For a friendly reunion. Then, a lengthy conversation. A very, very extensive one. I massaged my forehead, lost in thought.

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Suddenly the barrier vibrated, something I’d never felt since the very beginning. It changed shape, contracted and expanded continuously, fluctuated.

It flickered a few times in forced resignation, cracked and... burst. Life. Freedom. Infinity. Thousands of impressions flooded my mind, thousands of questions banged on my skull, hammered like the maddest of dwarves on mithril–––but the sole lifeform capable of an answer was too far away.

With the barrier gone and the oppressive fog being recent history, our Hivemind came alive. Every child was reconnected in a flash, as we no longer needed to actively seek one another’s presence but could simply link to the origin hidden within me.

Then, with the homecoming of my once-sealed power, reality hit me. Far, I say? In... danger, perhaps? Really…? For a moment I stared emptily forward, my head blank.

Then, a bloodcurdling screech shook my throat, a thought swept through the Hivemind, an absolute order awakened all that had a spark in them. My precious partner has to better be in shape! Who else am I going to converse with, to beg for forgiveness? Can’t be that all thinking is for nought.

My surging emotions shattered the last bit of lethargy. With liquid energy gushing through my blood vessels, long lost zest for action swelled up in me like a bursting volcano.

The barrier was no more–––and I, freed. Therefore… Rainbow-coloured holes tore the rainy sky apart one after the other. And I... no, we rushed through them.

The State moved in batches. With ancient blood burning in our veins, we hissed, banged on the chitinous exoskeleton, cracked our mandibles, got our asses in gear...

A flood was coming. Just not composed of mere water. Hold tight, backup’s there soon! Then... we speak!! Scrrrrreeeeeeccchhhhh!!!

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End of Intermission