Rhea had been walking for hours. Her joints ached with a dull pain that worsened over time. Were she still a human, she’d probably have needed to force herself to rest a long time ago, and yet, she continued to trudge on, unwavering, unfaltering.
The prophet’s words continued to echo in her mind. Rhea was unsure of what she would face once she reached Castle Arstella. Her mother was cruel at times, yes, but Queen Phaedra was never a fighter. Certainly, the queen wouldn’t stand a chance if Rhea decided to end her life then and there. But, when Rhea saw the gargantuan shadowy figure hovering above the silhouette of Castle Arstella in the distance, she knew she needed to run.
With a surge of adrenaline, Rhea pushed her tired body forward, propelling herself toward the castle gates. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she raced as fast as she could. Finally, as her footsteps carried her to the entrance, Rhea's breath caught in her throat, and her mouth hung open in stunned disbelief.
“So you have come, daughter.” a voice bellowed.
Rhea paused. She took a few cautious steps back, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Mother…what have you become?”
“I have become death, my daughter.”
Queen Phaedra, if one could still call her that, had transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension. Towering over Castle Arstella, she loomed like a nightmarish specter, a grotesque embodiment of otherworldly power.
Her eldritch form was a shifting mass of darkness and shadows. It writhed and twisted, bound together by an arcane force that defied comprehension. Each individual tendril moved with a sinister sentience, as if possessed by a mind of its own, pulsating and squirming with an eerie intelligence. Phaedra was lost completely, her eyes, or whatever semblance of eyes remained, glowed with an otherworldly light, and as the queen moved: the shadows rippled and contorted, seemingly alive with a dark energy. They reached out like twisted appendages, brushing against the ground with a macabre curiosity.
"Did you cause all of this?" Rhea's voice trembled with disbelief, her hands spreading out in a gesture of despair.
Phaedra met Rhea's gaze with a chilling nonchalance. "So what if I did?" she retorted, her voice devoid of remorse.
"Do you not feel even the slightest trace of remorse?" Rhea pleaded.
Phaedra scoffed, "Remorse for what? Desiring power? Is that not what you want too, my daughter? Believe it or not, I have long been aware of your ambitions for the throne, Rhea.”
"Yes, I desire the throne, mother, but I would never stoop to as low as you have."
Phaedra's voice thundered with a twisted conviction. "You just don't understand, daughter," she bellowed, "power is not a prize for the weak-willed; it is meant to be seized by those who have the strength to wield it. If the cost for my ambitions is the suffering of all of Ishgria, then so be it."
Rhea's eyes blazed with fury. "Look at you!" she yelled, “What have you become?"
Phaedra's reply was unyielding, "I am Queen Phaedra, the rightful ruler of Ishgria, and if you still hold even a hint of respect for this nation, you will bow before me."
Rhea scoffed, “You were a queen once, but that title holds no meaning now, I would rather face death than kneel to you."
“Then you die here.”
As Phaedra prepared to strike, raising one of her massive tendrils to crush Rhea, a miraculous intervention occurred. In a dazzling display of power, Nemaia radiated a pillar of fierce flames. The blaze acted as a shield, enveloping the princess and causing Phaedra to recoil as her tendril became entangled in the searing inferno.
“What?”
“The Ishgrian throne is not yours to claim, mother.” Rhea declared triumphantly..
“No, impossible, what in the heavens is that sword?” Phaedra said, her voice strained.
“This sword is called Nemaia and it shall bring about your doom.” Rhea tightened her grip on the crimson blade, feeling its warmth and power surge through her veins. And with a great leap: the duel for the fate of Ishgria began.
As the battle commenced, Phaedra unleashed her eldritch might upon Rhea. Shadows lashed out with malevolent intent, reaching towards her like ethereal tendrils seeking to ensnare and consume the princess. However, Rhea's reflexes were honed, her movements fluid and precise as she deftly maneuvered through the onslaught, narrowly avoiding the queen’s tendrils.
Then, Rhea countered with swift, determined strikes of Nemaia. The flaming blade cleaved through Phaedra's eldritch form. Scarlet flames licked at the eldritch abomination’s flesh. But Phaedra was far from finished. With each strike she took, her form contorted and shifted, the tendrils recoiling only to reform with renewed ferocity. Soon, her dark power surged, lashing out with tendrils of darkness that whipped and thrashed, threatening to overwhelm Rhea.
Undeterred, Rhea summoned her inner strength and as her determination peaked, Nemaia responded in kind, its scarlet flames burning brighter and fiercer. The sword seemed to pulse with a life of its own, resonating with Rhea's emotions and augmenting her attacks with a newfound intensity.
With a resounding battle cry, Rhea launched yet another daring leap, her blade raised high above her head. Time seemed to slow as Rhea descended upon Queen Phaedra, her strike aimed with precision.
In a single, monumental stroke, Rhea's blade cleaved through the swirling darkness, severing Phaedra's form. A shriek of unearthly agony echoed through the air as the eldritch queen's essence recoiled, the severed tendrils dissipating into ethereal mist.
As the echoes of the battle subsided, Rhea stood amidst the fading shadows, her chest heaving with exertion. The decimated remnants of Phaedra's eldritch form dissipated, leaving behind an oppressive silence.
Rhea cautiously approached the dissipating shadows, her eyes locked upon the heart of the fading darkness. And there, amidst the dispersing tendrils, emerged a figure, hunched and trembling. The eldritch veil that had shrouded Queen Phaedra for so long relinquished its hold, revealing her true, human form.
Phaedra, her once regal visage now marked by exhaustion and defeat, looked upon Rhea with a mix of awe and fear. Her eyes, devoid of the eldritch glow, mirrored a frailty that belied her former grandeur.
Rhea approached her mother cautiously. The crimson flames of Nemaia flickered and dissipated, leaving behind a faint warmth that mirrored the princess’s resolve.
"I never wanted it to come to this," Rhea said, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks.
"Kill me... daughter," Phaedra's voice trembled, a frail whimper escaping her lips.
Rhea's rage ignited, her face contorting with fury. "I'd like to talk first," she said with gritted teeth.
Phaedra's eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and resignation. "Ask away."
"Did you make a pact with the underworld?" Rhea asked.
A heavy silence hung in the air as Phaedra's gaze dropped to the ground. "Yes," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Did you truly despise me?" Rhea asked next.
Phaedra's eyes met Rhea's, “ever since... you were born... I hated you," she admitted, her voice choked with the weight of a lifetime's resentment.
The air grew still as Rhea tightened her grip on Nemaia. She looked into her mother's eyes, searching for any glimmer of remorse. "Any last words?"
A bitter smile tugged at Phaedra's lips as she mustered her final breath. "You're a failure, Rhea, even now..." she murmured with her last breath.
With her mother’s lifeless body sprawled before her, Rhea stood amidst the wreckage, her eyes scanning the desolate landscape. The once majestic Castle Arstella lay in ruins, while the skies above remained draped in an oppressive darkness, as if mourning the loss that had befallen Ishgria. The death of her mother, though a momentous event, seemed to have little impact on the world around her.
A voice pierced the silence, causing a chill to crawl up Rhea's spine. Every fiber of her being reacted, instinctively sensing the presence of someone she had hoped never to encounter again.
"You have done well, princess."
Rhea's jaw clenched, her eyes refusing to meet the gaze of the prophet who stood behind her. With a measured tone, she asked, "What do you want, prophet?"
“Nothing, I have come with Remuria, to fulfill my end of our agreement.”
At the mention of Remuria, Rhea's heart skipped a beat, her eyes finally locking onto the figure cradled in the prophet's arms. The sight of Remuria, still unconscious and vulnerable, stirred a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within the princess.
Rhea's voice trembled with concern as she observed Remuria's motionless form. "She is still unconscious."
"She's merely tired,” the prophet dismissed.
Suspicion etched itself across Rhea's face as she pressed further, "What have you done to her?" she demanded.
A few steps closer, the prophet's presence grew more imposing. "Nothing," they replied, "You played your part, and now I am here to fulfill mine."
With hesitant caution, Rhea gently took Remuria's limp body from the prophet's arms, carefully laying her on the ground, cradling her on her own lap.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“She will awake in due time, but now, we must talk, princess.”
The princess couldn't help but shoot a cutting glance at the prophet, her scarlet eyes ablaze with contempt. "What else do you want from me?”
A respectful bow accompanied the prophet's reply, their voice holding a newfound servitude. "You are right, Princess. I am here to serve you now."
Rhea was taken aback by the prophet’s words, “Why? Why would you choose to serve me?"
"You are the chosen of the underworld, its greatest champion. It is only natural that I align myself with your cause." The prophet explained.
Doubt gnawed at Rhea's resolve as she contemplated the prophet’s allegiance. "How can I trust that you will not betray me?"
"For now, you have only my word," the prophet replied, their tone steady. "But should you ask of me anything within my ability, I shall oblige."
"Can you restore Ishgria to its former state?"
"There is no turning back Ishgria to what it was, it shall forever remain a land of eternal night. However, it is within the realm of possibility to restore its people, or at least what remains of them."
Rhea's bitterness spilled forth, "All I witnessed were the Ishgrian people transformed into hideous chimeras, monstrous beings stripped of their humanity."
"I am well aware of the…peculiar state of the Ishgrian people," the prophet replied with a curt bow, "these 'chimeras,' as you call them, can indeed be restored."
“And the ones that are dead?”
“Everyone who has died can be brought back to life, if you wish, and they shall be bound to your will.”
Rhea tilted her head, “Bound to my will?”
“Yes, they shall have their free-will, but their existence will be bound to you: whatever you ask of them they cannot refuse and whenever you die, they too shall perish.”
“So they will be nothing more than slaves?”
“Functionally? Yes.”
“That…that isn’t right.”
“Don’t be so naive, princess, it’s not like you aren’t used to having slaves around.” the prophet scoffed.
“I never had slaves.” Rhea retorted.
“Oh? Those ‘servants’ at the royal palace: they must serve the royal family for life no?”
“But they are paid a fair wage.”
“But they cannot stop if they wish, and their children and grandchildren must serve as long as possible, or am I wrong, princess?”
“I…no.” Rhea admitted weakly.
“You are a ruler chosen by the underworld, princess, and soon you will learn to act like one.” the prophet reaffirmed.
“I…I understand,” Rhea relented.
“Good, I’ll leave you with the deathbringer’s daughter, there’s still an intact village not too far from here. If you wish to rest, we shall speak again in due time.”
***
When Remuria slowly stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttered open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. Her gaze immediately fell upon Rhea, who sat hunched over, eyes closed in an expression of weariness. There was always a certain tenderness that enveloped her when Rhea revealed her softer side.
"Rhea... what happened?"
Rhea, finally sensing Remuria's awakening, turned toward her with a mixture of relief and sorrow etched across her face. In a moment of longing, she enfolded Remuria in a tight embrace, "a lot," she whispered.
Responding to Rhea's gesture of affection, Remuria returned the embrace, feeling the warmth of their connection amidst the encroaching darkness. "That's fair, but are you alright?"
"I'm…alright” Rhea replied, “but I could do much better.”
Remuria couldn't help but press further, "And nothing bad happened while I was out of commission?"
Rhea hesitated, the princess took a deep breath, summoning the courage to lay bare her soul to the one person who understood her completely. "About that..."
Soon, Rhea recounted every harrowing detail to Remuria, sparing no aspect of her recent trials. She spoke of her battle against the late queen, and then went on to reveal her fateful pact with the prophet, holding nothing back.
As Rhea finished her explanation, Remuria's expression shifted from surprise to awe, her eyes widening with each revelation. "I... wow, that is a lot," she finally managed to say.
"I know... It's just so... overwhelming," Rhea confessed, her voice heavy with self-condemnation. "I've become a monster."
Remuria's heart ached. She reached out, gently cradling Rhea's face in her hands, "Perhaps you have," Remuria conceded, "but what other choice do you have now?"
"I just wished there was a better way," Rhea whispered.
"I'm sure we can figure something out, a way for you to break whatever hold the underworld has on you."
"Really? You think so?" Rhea asked expectantly.
Remuria's smile radiated warmth and reassurance. "I promise," she whispered.
“I…I just-”
In a sublime moment, Remuria seized her chance. Her soft lips found Rhea's, a kiss, it was all the princess needed and so much more. The world seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the raw intensity and depth of their connection. In that fleeting embrace, Rhea and Remuria found solace and affirmation only in each other's arms.
***
A few months had passed since the death of Queen Phaedra, by right, the ruler of Ishgria was required to be a son. Yet, with Rhea being the sole legitimate heir to the throne: it did not take long for the former princess to become a queen. Queen Rhea inherited a recovering nation, one that was scarred but regaining its strength. Unfortunately, there were many other kingdoms nearby who could smell blood in the water, they sought to trample Ishgria before it could regain its strength. Something the new queen could not afford to let pass.
Now, In the solitude of her bedroom, Rhea stood captivated by her own reflection, positioned before a grand mirror. The military uniform Remuria made for her gave out an aura of authority and elegance. Its fabric, woven meticulously with dark red cashmere, embraced the new queen with a luxurious touch. Delicate silk trimming, adorned with white piping and cuffs, added a touch of finesse to the ensemble. The garment itself was a masterpiece, emboldened by an exquisite tapestry of gilded threads, each one a testament to the skilled hands that had brought it to life. Completing the ensemble were a pair of sleek black trousers that clung effortlessly to her form and dark leather boots, their gleam mirroring the new queen’s determination.
"Excuse me, Rhea. May I come in?"
"Remuria? Please, come in!"
"If you'll excuse me." The door creaked open, as Remuria let herself in. Her hair was tightly styled into her signature chignon, perfectly complementing the uniform she wore, which bore a striking resemblance to Rhea's own. The uniform, meticulously tailored, featured an ebony hue with silver accents that traced delicate lines along the edges.
"You look amazing, Rhea!" Remuria exclaimed.
Rhea couldn't help but smile, her eyes filled with affection. "You have yourself to thank for that," she replied with a soft chuckle. "And besides, you look amazing yourself."
With a tender touch, Remuria moved behind Rhea, carefully adjusting the collar of the queen’s uniform. "You need to be more mindful of appearances now, Rhea. I won't always be here to assist you with adjusting your clothes."
A playful grin graced Rhea's lips as she turned to face Remuria. "But you are here now, aren't you?"
Remuria chuckled in response, "So, do you have your speech prepared?"
Rhea's expression turned slightly apprehensive, her eyes reflecting her nervousness. "I do, although I must admit, I am feeling a bit anxious."
Encouragement emanated from Remuria's gaze as she reached for Rhea's hands, clasping them gently. Leaning in, she planted a tender kiss on Rhea's lips. "You'll be fine. I am certain of it,"
Rhea blushed, a faint rosy hue coloring her cheeks. "Well, you have always been quite convincing."
"So, what are you waiting for? Your people are eagerly awaiting your presence."
Rhea nodded, "You're right, I should make my way there." Turning towards the bedroom door, she paused briefly, a smile gracing her lips. "Oh, and I’ll see you at the gardens after I’m done,"
A smile mirrored Remuria's face as she replied, "To you as well, my queen."
As Rhea emerged from her chamber, she was met with a surprising sight. Standing before her were Zia and Sedris, their usual red cloaks absent, replaced by uniforms befitting esteemed members of the royal guard.
"Greetings, Queen Rhea," Sedris greeted her with a respectful bow.
Zia, on the other hand, seemed slightly uncomfortable, fidgeting as she struggled to match the gravity of the moment. With a mumbled effort, she managed to muster a bow, albeit a somewhat awkward one.
Rhea couldn't help but chuckle at their contrasting reactions. "I see that you two are as consistent as ever," she remarked.
Sedris nodded, his demeanor still retaining a hint of stoicism. "For better or for worse, yes," he replied curtly, a flicker of a smile momentarily gracing his features.
Zia crossed her arms, her expression a blend of uncertainty and disbelief. "I'm still not used to all this fancy living and whatnot," she admitted, her voice tinged with a touch of self-consciousness.
"You'll get used to it in time," Rhea assured Zia.
Zia let out a half-hearted sigh. "Right..." she droned.
Sedris, ever pragmatic, interjected. "Anyway, are you ready to deliver your speech, Your Highness?"
"I am, yes."
With Sedris and Zia now at her side, Rhea led the way towards the grandeur of the palace balcony. The trio moved in unison, their unified presence a symbol of strength and unity as they headed towards the platform that awaited Rhea's powerful voice.
Rhea stood resolute, her figure elevated high upon the expansive palace balcony. Her gaze swept across the sea of faces gathered below, their faces seemed even brighter under the perpetual night that shrouded Ishgria. Among the throng, she could discern the presence of vampires, their ethereal allure blending seamlessly with the nocturnal ambiance.
"People of Ishgria, for far too long, our great kingdom has been beset by enemies from all sides who covet our wealth, our lands, and even our children."
As Rhea's voice resounded through the air, the crowd leaned forward, hanging on her every word. Heads turned, gazes locked, and murmurs of agreement passed like wildfire.
"The hostility towards us has only intensified since the emergence of the eternal night which has come to embrace Ishgria," Rhea continued, her voice filled with steely resolve. "They brand us as monsters, mere beasts incapable of reason or redemption."
"Our enemies encircle us, and no nation stands willing to be our ally," Rhea proclaimed, her words echoing with a mix of solemnity and determination.
Eyes widened, jaws clenched, and fists tightened as the queen’s words struck a chord within the crowd.
"Henceforth, I declare that Ishgria shall embark on a war of conquest!" Rhea's voice rang out, her proclamation filling the night sky. "If our enemies wish to take everything from us, we shall do the same to them first!"
The crowd erupted into a chorus of thunderous applause, their collective fervor painting the night with an indomitable spirit.
"Even if it demands the last drop of my blood, even if the very ground becomes stained crimson with the sacrifices we make, I swear upon my name: We shall witness Ishgria prosper once more!"
Applause erupted, thunderous and passionate, filling the night air. Hands collided in a symphony of claps, punctuated by triumphant shouts and joyous cries that echoed throughout. A myriad of voices merged into a single unified roar of support, echoing through the night like a rallying cry.
“Glory to Ishgria!"