The power of royals is something beyond just the divine mandate of their control. Rather, power is given to them by their power. They own the land, but also must have the power to defend that claim should it arise. With the claim of land staked, the people can prosper in peace because of it. A royal must be strong, stronger than the average man, to bear the burden of their immense power.
The second his hand gripped her wrist, Icara felt her consciousness ripped away from her. Rather than a peaceful and natural way of losing it, she could almost feel the waking world torn away from her. In an instant, she appeared once more in the recreation of her old room. The dress she wore was the same, but tattered, and to her right stood the same warrior-esque copy of herself. This time, she sported a pair of pulsing red horns and a confident smirk on her face.
“So we’re back here again, and you’ve changed.” She said before rubbing her wrist. “Did the stomach pains slow you down much?”
“They did what you wanted, I’d say.” The horned Icara said. “Tell me though, since we can’t exactly act independent of the other when we’re awake... what does it feel like for you? Do you feel like you’re dying? I’m only curious because I can’t remember.”
“It felt more like I was losing my memories and sensations all at once. No, maybe it’s more like I was falling back in time. Everything in the past felt more real, but I knew I wasn’t there anymore. I wanted us to be dead because I didn’t feel like we belonged in this time. Does that make sense?”
Her counterpart nodded a few times and sat down on the bed beside her. There wasn’t blood pouring from either anymore, only a ripple over their arms. A dull shaking rattled the room and both Icaras looked up to the ceiling together. When the noise stopped a minute later, the Icara in a dress got out of the the bed and moved to the window again.
“Are you really happy with what we’ll be? What you will be? He’s just tricking us, he killed our parents and now he’s planning on doing the same to us. Probably set to turn us over to the church for execution whenever he finds the time is right...”
“Koshchei is strong, and will give us a way to vent my tendencies. You’ll get to stay alive, eat the apples you loved, and no longer have to be conflict with yourself. I already stopped you from causing those pains and all, the least you can do is stick around and experience this stuff with me.” Offered the other Icara as she approached from behind. “I am who I am because of your ability to survive. We’re both Icara now, so you have to feel the same urge to live as I do, right?”
“If we’re both her, why are we separate then? There can’t be two Icaras, even in the same headspace!” She countered and gripped onto the window sill. “Don’t you feel that difference between us? If we’re the same person, why is there such a primal distinction?”
“Duality is something common in many things. We were born under unusual circumstances, and thus have a greater duality than normal, but it’s far from something suspicious, don’t you think?”
They gazed at the window of the room at together. Past the glass was nothing but a gentle light that shined back at them. She might have memories of a clear sky, a rainy cloud, or heaps of snow, but none of those existed here. The Icara in the dress pressed her palm against it to test the temperature, but couldn’t make out anything special. As she watched, the horned Icara did the same and reached a similar lack of conclusion. She saw both hands on the glass, and a thought drifted into the room between them.
“Perhaps the duality exists... because we aren’t the real Icara after all.”
The horned Icara turned to her as she spoke and nodded. “Maybe so... maybe the real Icara has long since died. We could both just be creations meant to fulfill the same role as her, or maybe we’re just the shattered portions of her psyke.”
“No, what I mean is, maybe we’ve not finished what we were supposed to. If you think about us forming two halves of one thing, we shouldn’t be two different things in this place, right? It should be one Icara, with one past, forming one whole being.”
“Then which one of us is the real her? Which Icara should get consumed by the other in order to move forward?”
Icara took her copy’s hand in hers, both at once. They met their eyes and could feel the tremors in the room resume again, they rattled together for a few minutes, both embracing the other. When the shaking stopped once more, they pulled back and gave each other a determined stare.
“Neither.” Said the Icara in the dress.
“We can’t be this Icara, or the other would just be a voice in our head.” Said the one with horns.
“I’m the Icara who could not let go of the past, the one who couldn’t see herself forward, the human.”
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“I’m the Icara that was born from the battle, the one that couldn’t look back out of pain and charged forward to her goal, the demon.”
They closed their eyes and embraced once more as the greatest rumbling of the room yet occurred. It shook to the imaginary foundations, and the bed creaked and rattled along side it. As light flashed over them, with reality breaking the dream once more, Icara awoke on the floor in an uncomfortable position.
Light flicked brighter than ever into her eyes as she sat back up. She saw the bizarre scene of Lilith tending to Gwindon’s wound with heavy tears. As she rose to her feet, a great strength swelled in her spirit. More than she had even when the demon half grew, she felt secured in her own existence. Her vision was clear, and every muscle in her body felt like a forgotten ache had vanished in an instant. From dull look she now wore, it would look as if she had always known this would happen to her. She balled her fists together and glared at Koshchei as he took a step away from her.
“You... I see you woke up from whatever your dream was. You feel different, Icara, was the dream more of a nightmare?” Koshchei asked.
She stepped towards him a met her eyes with Gwindon. “So it was you after all, wasn't it? The demon that killed my parents, and made me a partial hybrid.”
“Parital hybrid?” His fists lowered in confusion. “You are a hybrid, Icara. It took a long time to foster your growth, to ensure that you could handle the amount of energy I would give to you over the many years. Even when you were as far away the Korrem desert, I was giving you more and more power, just enough to survive. Have you finally accepted that part of yourself completely?”
“No, I rejected it, along with my adherence to the past as Icara Valarus. Honestly, I feel really relaxed right now. I’ve remember all the pain and suffering I’ve gone through since my parent’s death, but now more than ever, I feel... whole.”
She walked forward and past Lilith and Gwindon. Koshchei rushed her with his dagger, but she snapped a kick from the opposite side he slash from. Her blow hit first and forced him away from her. Flipping the blade in his hand, he shot it towards her leg, but a punch to the shoulder made him fumble back onto the ground. The knife skid away from the both of them and she loomed over Koshchei with the same casual look.
“You created a hybrid in order to foster your own strength, to make yourself not only stronger, but more likely to survive in the long run. It must be terrifying then, to see the power you were given in the hands of someone new.”
“Don’t think I’ve lost just because I—” Koshchei said before he doubled over in pain.
Cherno was the only one besides Icara that watched, and he made sure to be careful attention to the scene. Koshchei’s veins had not stopped the sickening pulse, and now grew up his arms and into the sleeves of his robe. His breaths was ragged, like Icara’s had been before now. Sweat built up on his brow and spilled over, which he wiped away to glare up at Icara.
“I can’t honestly believe my plan failed, there has to be something amiss, something I didn’t notice myself.” One hand gripped onto her ankle. “Tell me, Icara, what went wrong for me?! There were no subordinates, no grand strategy beyond my own, how could it have gone wrong?”
“Your plan worked, Koshchei. The only flaw was that it worked too well for your own scheming to handle.”
His glare shifted into a gaze of awe as he seemed to shrink into his robe. Koshchei glanced at his weakened body and let out a lone laugh, eyes widened in shock, but lips curling into a smile. He lifted himself slightly only so he could more comfortably sit on the ground. Boths hands gripped his knees now, and he started shaking with contained laughter. Cherno watched in confusion as she turned away from him and Koshchei lifted his head, his eyes now without irises at all.
“Even through all the planning, I never expected my own hybrid to expand beyond me. The child would outgrow the parent, to grow independent and strong. You’ve turned out better than I ever expected!” Koshchei grew a wide grin as he finished shouting. “I’ve never felt more proud than I do right now!”
Icara retrieved the dagger from the floor while Koshchei shakingly regained his footing. Lilith raised her head to watch as he approached Icara from behind with both emaciated arms spread out. Before he could reach, she snapped around with the dagger blade out, nearly slicing his throat open. The weary grin on his face barely faltered from the threat, but his arms fell to the side.
“A tactical mind unlike any other, but without the berserking quality to slaughter the moment the urge came to her.”
“I’ll be turning you over to the church, they’ll decide your fate once this is done.” Icara told him before lowering the blade.
She approached Lilith, who watched her through red and puffy eyes as she knelt down beside both her and Gwindon. The blood had seeped through most of his clothes at this point and his skin was noticably paler. His breath was shallow as he lazily lifted his head up towards her. Icara clasped one of his hands in hers, feeling the warm blood sticking to her own skin as she did. The casual facade broke and she looked down with sorrow on her face.
“I didn’t see where you got hit, Gwindon, I’m sorry...” she muttered to him.
Gwindon shook his head. “Ignore the damn wounds. Are you back to your old self or not? I’m sick of all these long speeches.”
“It’s... hard to explain. I’m not what Koshchei was going to make me, but I’m not really the woman you knew either.”
“Well I’m going to hold you to that debt from the inn. You be a good leader, don’t just become a pawn to somebody, and don’t get arrogant.” He said, and she nodded in silent reply. Gwindon closed his eyes and slumped a little more in his posture. “Damn, why do I have to feel so tired at a time like this...”
Lilith shook him a little in her lap and pressed the scrap of blood-soaked cloth against his wound harder. “Don’t say that! W-We’re right in the middle of a castle, dammit, we just need to call for a doctor, o-or somebody to help—”
“Stop, Lilith.” Gwindon cut her off and pulled one of her hands away from the bandages. “Just keep me warm, I want you with me when I go...”
She grit her teeth and tried forcing it back, but he firmly held it away. Blood was covering both their hands and Lilith’s crying began anew. He finally laced his fingers into hers and squeezed the hand tight while she pulled him into her arms tightly. Icara placed a hand on his unwounded shoulder and stroked it gently.
Gwindon died just a few seconds later, and Lilith couldn’t help but wail in grief, feeling his hand go limp in hers. Cherno finally rose from his spot and moved to Icara’s side, pulling her attention away from the corpse and leading her back to the machine. As a safety measure, he tested Icara’s blood the same as any soon-to-be crowned ruler would. He poured the powder onto the wound, but noticed some drips onto her upper arm. As he looked up for the wrappings, he saw Icara stare at Lilith and Gwindon together. Silent tears streamed down her face.
“Icara, do you want to take this later? You could probably do with a bit of grieving.”
She glanced at him and wiped her eyes before shaking her head. “No, it’s alright. I don’t think he’d like for me to cling to him, after all I only knew him for a day or two. What he’d want is to be alone with Lilith for a while.”
“That might be true. What do you want though?”
Icara lifted her head for a bit, and touched the horns with her unwounded fingers. After a brief silence, Cherno removed the impressively sized chunk of solidified powder from her bandage. He held it up and noticed it had a stark resemblance to a depiction of a sun. Finally, she brought her gaze back down to him and spoke in a solid voice, fingers still pressed against the crimson protrusion.
“A crown, for starters.”