Over the unreachable blue sewing slowly spread a yellow stain.
The swelter crept into Diane's bones. She couldn't, though she tried, understand the uneasiness in her spirit and the shivers of her royal fingers. She was ever so frightened of the timing. Before she could change her mind, she had come back to Lewtown. Leaving Thomas safely locked inside Isaac's castle, she came to complete the second step of her mission. It wouldn't be easy, she was certain, but time was not something she had on her hands.
She rang the doorbell once. Kelly Hammer appeared before her in no time, only pretending to be confused. “Meredith, dear,” she said, “what do I owe this pleasure? And that uniform!”
Diane smiled widely. “You can drop the act now. I am alone.”
Kelly smiled back and moved so Diane's dirty shoes could leave marks on her spotless floor. There were two teacups on the living room table. “Here's your tea, dear,” Kelly Hammer said as she poured greenish liquid into the teacup before Diane; the princess noticed some dust floating in it. Kelly then fixed her flower-printed dress and sat opposite her guest.
Diane very slowly brought the teacup to her lips and took the smallest sip. Placing it back, she cleared her throat.“The reason behind my visit is very confidential. I would like it if you should keep it to yourself,” she began.
“Why, of course, dear! We Hammers really know how to keep a secret.”
“Oh, I bet you do.”
Kelly knew why Diane had come into her house. She knew it before the princess did. Kelly hated the light sound of Diane’s perfectly calculated steps, her fake smile, and her secret sneer. The princess thought she was in control. How pitiful.
“I can assure you that Thomas is safe. He is in Florus, together with Prince Isaac.”
Kelly gasped. “Oh, my! What an honor! I sure hope he is on his best behavior!”
“I am sure he is. He is your son after all.”
The tension was so thick Diane was sure that, if she pulled out her sword, it would get stuck mid-air. Fear was creeping into her bones, and she felt her insides shake excessively. Nevertheless, she put on a perfect smile.
“And how exactly did this come about?” Kelly asked, crossing her legs, and balancing her teacup on her thigh. “No, let me guess.”
“I am not here to play games, Mrs. Hammer,” Diane replied.
“I doubt you came for tea either.”
“I'm looking for something. A map, to be precise,” Diane paused, looking straight into Kelly's eyes and slowly, but steadily, raising the cup she was given. “You don't happen to know anything about it, do you, Fiona?”
Diane grabbed the handle of her sword as Kelly rose to her feet. The woman broke the intense eye contact by moving towards the window. Looking at the sweaty passers-by headed for the forest, she smiled slyly and with her finger wiped the dust off the window stool. “I really underestimated you, Your Majesty. You are scarier than the rumors make you. For fifteen years I've lived in peace, and you have managed to completely destroy it in two months,” she turned around and pointed her finger towards the princess. “I never should have let you in.”
Diane's heart almost burst out of her chest as she jumped off the couch. The shadows of the objects filling the room slashed the couch into three unsymmetrical pieces. Thirsty for her ancient blood, they were fast, barely visible, and sharp. Diane's sword cut through the air beautifully, never once missing a beat. Kelly’s hands were trembling as Diane was demolishing her floor, one little shadow at a time. But Kelly's reach was far wider than Diane had expected, so she soon found herself cornered. She came knowing she was far inferior to Fiona Roswell, the legendary Raven captain she once admired. It would be reckless to think she came without her ace. With a corner of her eye, Diane caught the shimmering of a well-sharpened sword. The shadows that were giving her so much trouble were cut in half, followed by Fiona's painful cry; the woman was glued to the ground by a force she couldn't defy.
Mighty as always, George Brown confidently put his hand on Diane's shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Diane smiled. “I will be. It's just my pride that's hurt.”
“We are perfectly fine then,” he mocked.
Fiona raised both of her hands as much as she could. “I surrender.”
George loosened the gravity pulling the middle-aged woman down enough to allow her to move to the couch. Fiona’s shaky voice and wandering eyes didn’t prevent her from smiling. “Won't you introduce me to your friend?”
“You know very well who he is.”
Fiona’s gaze was locked on those cursed red eyes while she mumbled, “George Brown. How long...” Then she briefly touched her lips and looked back at Diane, smiling again. “I knew his parents. You did too, did you not?”
Diane felt something move in her gut. “Yes. They worked in the castle.”
“Ha! Certainly, yes.”
“You stole the map if I remember correctly,” George cut in.
“Stole is a strong word, boy. Borrowed, I'd say.”
“With no intention of returning it,” Diane remarked.
“Why no, Miss Hunster! I did plan on giving it back! Just not yet.”
“Did you really think it would change anything?” George mocked with his arms crossed and eyes awfully impatient.
“That doesn't matter now,” Diane jumped in. “Where is it?”
Fiona leaned in. “Over my dead body, Miss Hunster.”
Without a moment of hesitation, Diane replied, “Shame. This is all your life is worth.” Then she tilted her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “I am no stranger to murdering parents.”
There was silence, uncomfortable, and heavy. Fiona was lost in her thoughts, trying to find the right way out. There was no one in front of her window anymore. It was only her and the mother’s instinct. It was screaming to let the body die. But Diane Hunster would find it anyway. Destiny wanted her to find it. There would be no point to her death, as there was none to her living. Fiona traced the flowers on her skirt. “Do you think Thomas would like me to put up a fight?”
Diane's expression remained unchanged. “He would have liked you dead, if he knew what you have done.”
“How I have protected him!” Fiona yelled and leaned forward, causing George to grab his sword.
“How you have hindered his growth,” Diane replied, eerily like her father. “You knew, yet you decided to raise him ignorant.” Diane stood up and took a knife out of a small sheath on her belt. “My mother may be weak, but at least she is not a liar. I hate liars, Mrs. Roswell. And you have almost doomed the world because of your convictions.” Diane accidentally cut her own finger. “Such people deserve to die, Mrs Hammer.”
Kelly trembled. It was that emptiness in the princess's eyes again that made the flowers on her skirt wither. Still, there was some light in her movement. “Do you really think this is for the best?”
“What I think can never matter.”
“Because you would do it all differently.” Kelly saw her hesitate, so she said even more convincingly, “Don’t let them convince you that you are a monster. You are not like them.”
Diane was terrified by the possible choices that that sentence could create inside her head, but it didn’t. It was her revenge, not their future.
She is trying to soften me. How pitiful. I have no doubts anymore. I know what I want. This was my decision. What they say doesn’t matter. I want to destroy Him, just as he destroyed me.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
This is what I want.
The princess’s pupils trembled and grabbed Fiona’s hair. “That is where you are wrong, Fiona. Just because I think it’s wrong, doesn’t mean I will fail my mission. I will never fail my mission, especially not for the likes of you. Now, be good and tell me where the map is.”
“Destined for greatness, they said,” Fiona mumbled; the sharp metal on her throat felt cool on her flesh. “It’s under the crest.”
Diane was very tempted to slice her throat; everyone who had caught a glimpse of her true nature was her enemy and therefore was to be eliminated. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, even though George’s eyes told her otherwise. He wanted her to prove to him that she was still in there, somewhere; but she wasn’t. Diane Hunster was but a shell of who she used to be before she learned the truth. If only she had the strength to find it again!
“Let’s go,” Diane mumbled and stormed out of the house.
George followed shortly, a farewell behind. The weather was pleasant and the sky was clear. There were no birds, though, but the sound of wind filled the streets with reassurance well enough. Diane was marching towards the heart of the city in silence. There were lots of people there, busy making necessary preparations for the things that occupied their lives. Diane’s heavy boots drew their attention to her every step; they had no clue who she really was. Her parents made sure of it.
“King, it’s ugly,” Diane said, looking down at her ancient family. She could never understand how the people of Lewtown didn’t get nauseous every time they walked over such a monstrosity.
“What now?” George asked, unmoved by the sudden flood of Diane’s worst traits.
“Now we find the door,” Diane replied. Blocking out the blank stares she received, with her arms inhumanly strong due to the energy she had accumulated in them, Diane began hitting the crest with her fists so barbarically and loudly that George stepped back and proceeded to offer peaceful smiles to the terrified people of Lewtown. Pieces of concrete were flying everywhere, creating cuts in Diane’s uniform and on her face, but she could neither see nor feel anything but excessive anger. As the river of dust surrounded her, the look in Fiona’s eyes, as she pressed her knife to her throat, sent shivers throughout Diane’s body. No matter how hard she tried, she could not forget about George’s father and the Judge; he stood by her side and then died under mysterious circumstances. What did she know? Did she see something she shouldn’t have? And how come she did not see it now?
Enough! It could never bring any good! You are not this weak, Diane Hunster! You cannot be! Find Him and destroy Him. That is all that matters. That is all you need. Then you will feel whole again.
And when her fist finally collided with something it couldn’t obliterate, she spit to the side and reached inside the gigantic hole she had created. Inside was a thin long golden box.
But, what does it mean to be whole? Was I ever my own?
As she brushed the dust off, a small Crystalian crest stared right at her. She looked around at the town whose peaceful tranquility she had interrupted. In this sudden silence, there was no one but her. Alone. Just like she had always been, despite all those talks of greatness. Where was the Judge now that Diane needed her the most?
That’s right. She is never there when it matters the most. None of them are.
Then she looked at George, an unfamiliar tone of the past enwrapping his being and rebuking her soul. George was there that day when she supposedly killed his father. She could see him clearly now, telling her to stay back and be obedient.
Who is George Brown anyway?
At that moment, she realized she could not go on that way. They told her killing Him would make them all happy: she would get her revenge, and save the world in the process. And it could have ended so peacefully had she not caught a glimpse, a few of them, of monstrous irregularities.
The Judge had deliberately allowed bloodshed. Twice, it seemed.
George’s father had died under mysterious circumstances after allowing her to ruin their plans.
George Brown knew the truth.
Then there is that Demon girl. I was so caught up in everything that I almost forgot. She talked as if she knew me from somewhere, almost as if we were once close.
She could see George tell her something from where he stood, but she couldn’t hear a word. All that motion of time, the clock that ticked in the distance, distracted her.
“Be obedient,” whispered the wind.
“I will,” Diane whispered back; George was walking towards her now, “if you tell me the truth. I will not live a lie anymore.”
“Is everything okay?” George asked, suddenly kneeling in front of her. Diane saw his eyes mirror her face, so composed and good. She could be a perfect soldier, a perfect sacrifice; at that moment, surrounded by all that smoke, she made a choice.
I will ignore this feeling no longer. I have to know the truth. And then… Then I will decide how I will go about executing my revenge. And saving the world.
“Of course. Let’s go,” Diane replied.
She brushed past George and continued marching, this time towards the forest and his house. Behind her steps was a shadow that only ever seemed to grow. But she could not deliberately throw away such a suspicious burden and allow herself become even more dehumanized.
If I fall, it will be of my own accord. I need to know what they are keeping from me, and I need to do so quickly. As soon as I come back from Carcer, I will confront my father.
“What do you think?” Diane asked George. “Should we just go alone? It would be easier.”
George suddenly drew a long breath. “I see you are still stuck in the past.”
Diane chuckled. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”
“They wouldn’t forgive you.”
“I could live with that,” she replied like he expected her to.
They walked in silence once again. Diane squeezed the handle of her sword, hoping she would, with a little help of the miracle she chased, shatter it into pieces. She would love to watch it disappear with the wind.
“Should I make the necessary preparations?” he asked once they were already in the mud.
“You should.”
Then the forest air reminded her of the ones she left behind, in Florus. To heal, to forget, and to regret. But she was the only one wishing she could turn back time, though deep down she knew she wouldn’t have done anything differently. A hypocrite, lying in the shade of her crown. That summer day five years ago, when she opened her eyes under the blinding white light, she swore to avenge everyone and everything He had the audacity to take away. Crushed when she needed to live; she hated His mercy.
Unless there was more to it.
They walked into George's house. It was warm and smelled as charming as always. He poured her a cup of warm tea and sat on the couch beside her. She observed the drawings on the porcelain teacup and then sighed heavily. She was suddenly trembling. That piece of paper was finally right in front of her but she could not bring herself to touch it. What if, right as her fingers touched it, it melted into pure nothingness? Would she have to give up then? To become a failure?
I am already a failure.
“Do you want to be the one to open it?” George asked Diane.
“No, you do it,” she replied briefly.
“Are you sure?”
“Just open it already.”
It felt like forever. George carefully removed the fragile yellow paper from the box, put it on the soft carpet they were now sitting on, and unwrapped it.
“This has to be a joke,” Diane let out.
They both froze for a second. The map they spread over the floor looked nothing like what they had expected. There was nothing that could show them the way. Instead, the rusty paper was covered in beautiful dark purple ink forming a large Hunster crest. The winged monster with a sword in its jaws stared right into Diane's soul.
“What in the world is this?!” George exclaimed.
Diane snatched the map and put it against the window. When no hidden letters appeared, she started turning the map around as she walked around the room. It was even worse than she feared. If only it had crumbled under the weight of her future, she could have blamed herself and decided not to indulge in activities that violated the Judge’s orders; this way, she was left with even more distrust.
Why does everything have to be a game?
She kept repeating the same motions for hours, her face turning a different color every time the clock screamed. George simply watched her, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. He listened to her mumble, maybe curses, maybe prayers. Either way, when the clock announced ten, Diane lowered the map and looked at him with desperation he hadn’t seen in years. “What do I do now?”
“First, sit down…”
“I can’t.”
“Diane, calm down. We’ll find a way.”
“What if there is no way?” Diane put her right hand on her head. “It’s always this bloody crest! I hate it so much! It’s always some monster with diamond jaws…”
She looked at him for a second more before her face lit up and she buried her head inside the map. The smile that appeared on her face only grew larger as she put the map on the floor and observed it from above.
“Of course,” she let out. “It was there the whole time.”
“What was?” There was an unseen intensity in George’s eyes; he was too eager to hear the answer for Diane to like. The moon had risen, bloody and radiant. The monster always has a sword. How else would it be able to tell princesses that fortune favors the brave?
“Where is the fun in telling you?” Diane asked, mesmerized by the words replaying in her head.
George moved away slightly, closer to his sword. “Do you not trust me?”
“I don’t.”
George nodded, disappointed only briefly confusing his red eyes. “It’s getting dark. You can sleep here if you want. There are many empty rooms.”
“Thank you, I will,” Diane replied.
George stood up. “Will you really not tell me?”
“Why are you so eager to know?”
“Because it’s my home.”
“I thought Crystalia was your home.”
George sighed and sat back on the sofa. His tea was long cold when he took the final sip. “Good night, Diane.”
There is something grotesque about old houses, and ominous about new castles. Where people hang from the walls is where small histories are made. In houses in the woods, secluded, is where great people close their eyes; but nights bring terrors and wailings. Especially to those who murder parents.
“Good night,” Diane said as she took the map and left the room. She didn’t want to see George’s expression change and his eyes turn cherry. There were enough blossoms in her mind already.