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THE PRICE OF POWER

Princess vs. Archmage

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Spieglein, Spieglein an der Wand…

A haunting melody, a formless sound bubbling up from an unseen depths, filled Eydis's ears as she drowned. She wasn't falling. It wasn't a feeling; it was the absence of feeling. No ground beneath her, no resistance, just the infinite emptiness of a never-ending fall. Like being swallowed by the abyss once more.

What… What was happening?

Princess, do you…

Who |

Another voice, deep and low, both soothing and foreboding, enveloped her senses. It carried the salty spray and crashing roar of an ocean she'd never seen, but imagination had always been one of her greatest gifts. She could create places far beyond the eternally grey sky of her kingdom, her cage. In this, she was but a wounded canary, yearning for the uninhibited wind beneath her wings, the freedom of flight.

The voice spoke again, gentler now, yet still powerful, like a wave drawing ever closer to a desolate cliff.

"Do you understand power? What you are capable of?"

Who is the f|

Whose voice was that? Then, a jolt of terrible realisation. How could she forget? What had happened to her memories?

Dizziness overwhelmed her as the ocean evaporated into a swirling mist. The ground rushed up to meet her, solidifying beneath her trembling legs. Suddenly, Eydis found herself a child again, a small frame dwarfed by the imposing study of her youth.

A large, calloused hand reached out to grasp hers. Instinctively, Eydis recoiled, the ingrained suspicion in her gut screaming a warning.

"Must we do this, Archmage Swan?" she snapped, her voice belying the childlike form she now inhabited.

Her new tutor, one of the most powerful mages in the realm, they said, smiled easily. It was a touch too warm, a touch too friendly, a smile that didn't quite reach the depths of his brown eyes. Did Mother threaten him to teach her?

Princess Eydis had no patience for stuffy old mages reciting outdated theories. She thrived on experimentation, on pushing the boundaries of magic with reckless abandon. This was the third arcane tutor this month alone, each one dismissed as quickly as they arrived. They couldn't teach her anything she didn't already know.

And frankly, she wasn't a fan of her Mother's spies.

"Please, call me Gidion, Your Highness," he said, "though, I do need to touch your hand to assess your ability."

Eydis narrowed her eyes. Though barely a teenager, her gaze held a maturity beyond her years. But a defiant toss of her braid betrayed a youthful impulsiveness that both intrigued and concerned the archmage.

"I believe, Archmage Swan," she countered, "my potential is documented thoroughly in the reports Her Majesty no doubt shared with you."

Gidion's surprise, if genuine, was replaced quickly by his ever-present smile. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled with amusement. "I don't rely on reports, Your Highness. I prefer to see it for myself. Your familiar, Envy."

Eydis clenched her jaw, but she complied. With a snap of her fingers, a swirling mass of violet mist materialised beside her. The serpentine form of Envy coiled protectively around her small frame.

Gidion's surprise deepened. His eyebrows shot up for a moment before he composed himself, the smile returning.

"A serpent, huh?" he mused. "An interesting choice. Though, I suppose it suits Envy quite well. Your mastery of such a Sin is… very curious."

"Curious isn't the word most would use," she retorted.

The archmage's lips twitched into a slight smile. "Princess Eydis's sharp wit is as renowned as her... reputation. Perhaps 'terrifying' is a more apt descriptor. Binding Envy, a primal evil, at the tender age of nine? A feat even the most gifted mages struggle with."

Eydis's eyes narrowed at the bluntness. No one dared speak to her so candidly. Yet, she supposed Gideon, being a master of another primal Sin, wouldn't cower before her.

"Envy is a pedestrian emotion," she scoffed. "Hardly befitting someone of my stature."

"Envy, the catalyst for resentment and malice," Gideon countered patiently, "is one of the most potent evils. Left unchecked, it can fester into a darkness that consumes everything."

"Perhaps. But isn't it merely a symptom of inadequacy? A constant yearning for what others possess? I harbour no such feelings. I doubt I could wield its power effectively."

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

"Your perspective on the Sins is intriguing, Your Highness. Then, would you prefer to bind another?"

"Isn't Pride stronger? My mother's familiar?" Eydis challenged, tilting her head.

"Pride, yes," Gidion admitted. "Ego, the root of all darkness, the strongest Sin, wouldn't you agree?"

Eydis paused, considering. "Root of all evil, perhaps," she murmured, "most destructive? Debatable."

Gideon's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "How so?"

Eydis shrugged. "Some say Greed is," she offered, "But I disagree with that assessment as well."

"Then… What's your interpretation?"

Eydis's lips curved to a smug smirk. "That, Gidion, depends on you. Information for information.”

Gidion, taken aback by the young princess's blunt addresses and audacity, blinked once, then twice, then burst out laughing. Wiping a stray tear on his eyes, he asked, "What information would you like to know, little Princess?"

Eydis felt a strange warmth bloomed in her chest, but she ignored it. Her golden eyes blazing with power as the next words came out of her lips. "Can a single mage bind more than one Sin?"

Gideon's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a startled gasp. "You can bind... multiple lesser evils. But a primal Sin..." He frowned, his gaze searching hers. "How could you control such power? And why would you even desire such a burden?"

Why indeed? The adult Eydis, a silent observer in her own memory, echoed the question. The answer, once crystal clear, now eluded her. Had she truly forgotten the driving force behind her insatiable hunger for power?

Even as a child?

Her younger self, the twelve-year-old princess, blazed with more than childish rebellion. Her eyes burned with a conviction that surprised even the Queen of Shadows.

"You're the only one who's told me the truth," Eydis declared.

Gideon's eyes widened. "The truth?"

"That it's possible.”

Gidion's lips opened, words flew out of his mouth, but Eydis couldn't hear it. The world dissolved around her. The marble floor beneath her vanished, and she plummeted into the abyss once more.

Again? A groan of frustration echoed in her mind. Three times a charm, they say.

Her head throbbed, a thousand needles pricking her skull. She tried to scream, but no sound emerged. Then, her lips moved of their own accord, whispering words that felt strangely familiar and utterly alien...

Spieglein, Spieglein (Mirror, Mirror)

an der Wand (On the wall),

Wer ist die Schönste im ganzen Land?

Who is the fairest of them all?

*

Her… own voice? There was a tremor of controlled fury in it, and it repeated, repeated, repeated. The singsong nursery rhyme scraped against her sanity with each relentless repetition.

“Fuck off!” Eydis jolted awake, a strangled gasp escaping her parched throat. Curses were unbecoming of a queen, a horrifying reminder of the life she'd lost. The dream… Was it a dream? Or a memory, a fragment of a past stolen from her? Why couldn't she remember Gidion? Who stole her memories? When did it happen?

And why did it come back? Did it have anything to do with Cerberus?

And the Sin… Pride, wasn’t that universally known as the strongest? But the memory of young Eydis whispered of something else. What was it? Her head pounded, a dull ache intensifying with each disorienting thought.

The nonsensical voice, the mirror… what did it all mean?

Her vision swam, the coarse sheets rough against her feverish skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open, willing the world to come into focus.

But everything remained blurry—right. Her eyesight, or rather its lack thereof. Her new reality.

She wasn't a princess anymore. She wasn't that strange, furious voice trapped in a warped conversation with her reflection. She was just... Eydis. A teenager. The teenager who, for some inexplicable reason, found a sliver of comfort in that realisation amidst the chaos.

And why was everywhere on fire? Crippling exhaustion, throbbing body, pounding heart, burning skin, and raspy breaths - all were the symptoms of a…fever? Finally, something as mundane as illness to plague Queen Eydis.

This borrowed body struggled for a single breath.

How did she get there? Insomnia, fatigue, drained mana, and probably a blooming infection from that gash on her palm. Shocking. Oh, and being swallowed whole by a monstrous dog to escape a confrontation wasn't exactly a relaxing spa day, after all.

She slumped back against the pillows, a wry smile twisting her lips. Maybe just the flu. Maybe not. But the nagging feeling of forgotten memories, the hollowness no quip could fill – perhaps her insomnia wasn't just from sigil research after all. This whole situation, this borrowed body, it was all starting to feel… fragile. Like a Sèvres porcelain doll one careless bump away from oblivion.

A soft click of the nightshade. Then came the faint rasp of a footfall on the worn carpet, a sound that snagged Eydis's attention even through the haze of sleep. A figure materialised at her bedside.

Eydis fumbled for her glasses. Through bleary eyes, she finally saw Astra, draped in a midnight-blue robe that shimmered like twilight. Her crimson eyes, usually as cold as a winter’s embrace, burned with a genuine concern that never failed to surprise Eydis.

Astra held out a steaming cup, the fragrant aroma of chamomile tea momentarily clearing Eydis's head.

"Here," she murmured, her voice softer than Eydis had ever heard.

Eydis croaked a thank you, her own voice rough and unfamiliar. Propping herself up on her elbows, she downed the entire cup in one graceful gulp, the soothing warmth easing the tension she hadn't realised she was carrying.

Astra's hand shot out, pressing against her forehead. "You're burning up."

Eydis attempted a flippant reply, a raspy whisper escaping her cracked lips. "Just a night's rest. I'll be back to my infuriating self tomorrow."

But the words felt hollow, even to her own ears. Her usual bravado faltered under Astra's gaze. Ignoring the lingering warmth from the touch – a warmth more comforting than it should be – Eydis managed a weak smile.

Astra's lips twitched, a hint of a smile threatening to break through the concern in her eyes. "If you call twisting and turning on your bed rest, then you need more than a night, Eydis."

Unsure, as always, how to react to this unexpected concern, Eydis deflected, "Oh, will the Ice Princess work her magic and cool me down? It would certainly help with my... rather violent nocturnal activities."

Expecting a blush and a hasty retreat, Eydis was met with an unyielding stare. Instead, those crimson eyes raked over Eydis's flushed face, then drifted down to her body. Her eyes glinted with amusement as she took in the sight of Eydis swaddled in what could only be described as the fleece equivalent of a toddler's security blanket—a pair of bunny-themed purple pyjamas that looked suspiciously like they'd been liberated from the lost and found bin.

"Did you raid a five-year-old's closet?"

Too easy. Eydis, unfazed, countered with a teasing tug on her opened collar. "Do five-year-olds have this kind of... neckline?"

Astra's eyes followed the gesture, drawn to the delicate line of Eydis's neck, damp with perspiration. A fleeting heat flared in her gaze before she quickly composed herself. Her voice dropped to a low murmur, almost hesitant.

"Speaking of cooling down..." she trailed off. Then, with a rush of breath, she blurted, "undress."

Eydis's eyebrows shot up. Had she heard correctly?