THE DEAD QUEEN

Property of:

Rapid Fire Enterprises

Created By:

David Tyrel Little

Chapter 6: Immortal Project

The warm light of their home greeted Enixia as she stepped through the doorway, carrying the box of pastries close to her chest. The familiar scent of lavender and the soft hum of energy from the crystalline hearth eased the tension in her shoulders. Her mother, Amaira, looked up from the sitting room where she had been stitching delicate patterns into a cloak. The moment she saw Enixia, her face lit up with a smile that could melt glaciers.

"You're back!" Amaira said, rising to greet her daughter. "And with something sweet, I see."

Enixia handed her the box, returning her smile. "Hennar insisted on adding a little extra. I thought we could have a proper dessert tonight."

Amaira peeked inside the box, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Crystallized fruit tarts? Oh, these look wonderful. And your father's favorite, no less."

Enixia nodded, trying to hide the flicker of doubt that crossed her face at the mention of her father. "I thought it might help... smooth things over."

Amaira's expression softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze Enixia's hand. "You're too kind, my love. But why stop at tarts? Let's make something special together. We haven't baked a cake in ages."

Enixia raised an eyebrow. "You want me to help? You remember what happened the last time I tried to bake, don't you?"

Amaira chuckled, already moving toward the kitchen. "The kitchen survived, didn't it? Barely. Come on, it'll be fun."

The kitchen filled quickly with the comforting sounds of clinking bowls, the soft whisk of batter being stirred, and Amaira humming a soothing melody. The counters gleamed with crystalline accents, their surfaces scattered with ingredients—flour, sugar, butter, and a selection of finely ground crystals that would give the cake its unique shimmer.

Enixia stood at the counter, her sleeves rolled up as she struggled to crack an egg neatly. "Why does this always look so easy when you do it?" she grumbled, half to herself.

Amaira laughed softly, expertly folding ingredients into a bowl. "Because I've had centuries of practice."

Enixia rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't help smiling. For a while, they worked in peaceful silence, the act of baking a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the day. But as they began layering the batter into the cake tin, Amaira's tone grew more serious.

"How was your visit to Hennar?" she asked, glancing at her daughter out of the corner of her eye.

Enixia paused, smoothing the batter with a spatula. "Good," she said softly. "He's always kind. And he asked about... the sparring match."

Amaira sighed, setting down her bowl. "I wish you didn't have to endure that, Enixia. The way they treat you... it's unfair."

Enixia shrugged, though the movement was tense. "I'm used to it. They think I'm weak, and maybe they're right."

Amaira turned sharply, her voice firm. "You are not weak. You are stronger than any of them know, and one day, they'll see it. Don't let their narrow minds define you."

Enixia nodded, but her gaze drifted downward. After a moment, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mother... I told Hennar about the Immortal Project."

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

Amaira froze, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. "You told him?"

"I trust him," Enixia said quickly, looking up at her mother. "He wouldn't tell anyone, I know he wouldn't."

Amaira relaxed slightly, though the worry in her eyes remained. She leaned against the counter, her jewlry faintly glowing as her emotions stirred. "I understand why you told him. But, Enixia... this project, what your father is doing... it terrifies me."

Enixia swallowed hard, setting down the spatula. "He won't let anything happen to me, Mother. I'm too important to his work."

"That's exactly what scares me," Amaira said, her voice breaking slightly. She reached out, taking Enixia's hands in hers. "You're not a tool, Enixia. You're my daughter. And I don't trust your father to see that when his experiments are involved."

Enixia looked away, her heart aching at the fear in her mother's voice. "He wouldn't hurt me... Would he?"

Amaira tightened her grip, her voice firm. " He's willing to take risks, isn't he? Risks that could harm you, even if he doesn't mean to. I've seen what happens to those who've been part of his experiments before. The Immortal Project... it's not safe."

Enixia met her mother's gaze, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't have a choice, do I? If I refuse, he'll just find another way to force me into it."

Amaira's shoulders sagged, and she pulled Enixia into a tight hug. "I hate that you're caught in this. If I could shield you from it, I would."

For a long moment, they stood there, the hum of the crystals around them the only sound. Finally, Amaira pulled back, wiping a tear from Enixia's cheek. "You are stronger than you know, my love. But promise me something."

"What?" Enixia asked softly.

Amaira cupped her daughter's face, her voice filled with quiet intensity. "Promise me you'll listen to your instincts. If something feels wrong—if you think for even a moment that you're in danger— get out of there and come to me. No matter what."

Enixia nodded, her voice steady despite the emotions churning inside her. "I promise."Amaira smiled faintly, though the worry in her eyes remained. "Good. Now, let's finish this cake before your father decides to grace us with his presence."

Later that night, Enixia lay in bed, staring up at the crystalline ceiling. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting soft patterns across the room. The weight of the day pressed heavily on her chest, from the sparring match to the conversation with her mother.

Enixia sat up cross-legged on her bed, a shard of raw crystal resting in her open palm. It was jagged and rough, its fractured edges catching the fading light like shattered glass. She turned it carefully, watching the way it sparkled—a small, imperfect thing in a world that tolerated nothing less than brilliance.

Her mother's words echoed softly in her mind: "Crystals aren't born perfect. They're shaped by pressure and time."

Pressure and time.

She frowned, tracing the tiny cracks spiderwebbing through the shard's surface with her thumb. The parallel was clear enough. She, too, had been subjected to pressure—and yet, instead of shining like her peers, she remained fractured. Raw. Broken.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door. Before she could answer, Amaira stepped inside, her silhouette framed by the soft golden light of the hallway. In her hands, she carried a steaming mug of tea and a folded cloth.

"You're still awake," Amaira said softly, her voice a soothing balm against the silence.Enixia nodded but didn't look up. "I couldn't sleep."

Amaira approached the bed and set the tea on the small table beside her. She glanced at the crystal shard, her brow furrowing slightly before she sat on the edge of the bed. "You're thinking about him again."

The words were quiet, but they cut through Enixia like a blade. She didn't have to ask who him was. Her father's cold words still echoed in her head, replaying like a cruel melody.

You are weak. Unfocused. A waste of potential.

"He's right," Enixia muttered, her voice barely audible. "I'm not strong enough. Not fast enough. I can't be what he wants me to be."

Amaira sighed, and Enixia felt the bed dip slightly as her mother moved closer. Gentle hands rested on her shoulders, grounding her, pulling her back from the storm swirling in her mind.

"Look at me," Amaira said softly.

Reluctantly, Enixia raised her head, meeting her mother's gaze. Amaira's blue eyes were steady, unwavering—a sharp contrast to the fleeting doubts Enixia so often saw reflected in her own.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" Amaira asked, brushing a strand of hair from Enixia's face. "I see a girl who refuses to give up, no matter how many times she's pushed down. I see strength. Resilience. Courage."

Enixia scoffed quietly, her gaze falling back to the shard in her hand. "What good is courage if I can't win?"

"Courage isn't about winning," Amaira replied gently. "It's about standing back up after you lose. It's about enduring the pressure and trusting that, one day, you'll shine."

She reached down and plucked the shard from Enixia's palm. Holding it between her fingers, Amaira turned it slowly so the light caught on its uneven edges.

"Do you know what happens when a crystal like this is polished? It takes time. Patience. Skill. You can't force it, or it will shatter." Her voice softened, as though she were speaking to the shard itself. "But if you handle it with care, you can reveal something extraordinary."

Enixia blinked back the sting of tears, her throat tight as she whispered, "What if it does shatter?"

Amaira set the shard carefully on the bedside table, then turned back to her daughter. "Then you gather the pieces and start again."

The silence that followed was heavy but not unkind. Amaira's hands lingered on Enixia's shoulders for a moment longer before she stood. "Come. Drink your tea and rest. Tomorrow, the pressure will still be there... but so will you."

Enixia watched her mother leave, the door closing softly behind her. Alone again, she picked up the shard, holding it carefully between her fingers. It was imperfect, yes, but beautiful in its own way—a small, stubborn fragment of something much greater.

"Pressure and time," she whispered to herself.

She set the shard back on the table and reached for the tea, letting its warmth seep into her hands. The airships hummed faintly outside, but she found herself tuning them out. For the first time that night, her mind felt still.

The pressure would remain. The expectations would not change. But perhaps her mother was right. As her eyes drifted closed, she whispered, hoping that her mother's fears would prove unfounded. Sleep came slowly, her dreams filled with flashes of light, whispers of power, and a shadowy figure standing over her, its face obscured.

image [https://img.wattpad.com/b319fb3ad35d182ed26b78b0701fcd86d7c77c2f/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3061664449694564686e754567413d3d2d313530343338303830332e313831333439373031396533653238653531393132393632343430342e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]