Out of the Ashes Ch. 11

It clearly hurt him to address her with her proper title. The daughter of the person that brought all this suffering over his people and family. The march through the town and the chaotic turmoil on the streets already did enough damage on him, but these two words certainly were the final nails into the coffin. One crisis too many, one defeat too many, one last taste of a family which wasn't meant to be.

Margaret looked over her shoulder and only caught a glimpse of his face, it was almost enough to bring her to tears right in front of everyone. But she wasn't allowed to show such weakness now, she had to rise above her emotions holding her down - now or never.

The blonde took a deep breath as the countless faces all around her looked up to her in silence and awaited her speech. One that would find its way into history books and legends a like.

"It is true. The things you say are all true. You are all gathered here today because of my kind's and my family's doing. The pain you experienced, the anger you feel right now, all stems from my blood... and my own decisions. You are in this situation because I am what I am. My mother's daughter," she said with utter disgust.

Margaret pointed towards the pathway leading up to the royal palace and towards the beach and most onlookers gaze followed her finger.

"Months ago, we walked into your town, into your lives, right here... in darkness and out of fear, not because we had a choice. We were not invited, nor had we any right to be welcomed by any of you. We were refugees at best, intruders at worst."

Her strong voice echoed through the overcrowded streets and bounced back from the lusciously decorated, expansive houses as well as the burned down ruins next to them. Rich and poor side by side, but only on an architectural level. The rich already left in droves with all their belongings and all that remained were the desperate and poor, the ones looking up to Margaret - the one responsible for everything and explaining to them that their hate was justified.

The murmur within the crowd grew louder, while others shushed them equally as passionate, hooked by honest, but harsh words coming from the princess.

"Still, you welcomed us. You got barely anything to spare, anything to share, but you still shared. You...", the crowded gasped in tandem when the heir stumbled back as she was hit frontally by a tomato - staining her white shirt with a messy red stain.

The militia boosted their wall of shields and Alexia begged her to step down from the podium. It might only have been a fruit this time, next time it could be a bullet. Margaret lifted her left hand and calmly gestured the militia to stop fortifying their positions against the once again rowdy crowd.

Margaret smiled and wiped the rotten tomato off her shirt, careful enough that she wouldn't tear the already overly strained fabric. She widened her arms, opened them like wings and faced once more a crowd who was about to tear themselves and her apart.

"I deserve that. I deserve any hate you can throw at me. It pains me too see the desperation and fear on your faces, and to have been of so little help to take them off you," she continued steadfast, although she was subtly shaking.

"You took me in as one of your own. Offered me more than I could have ever hoped for, a life I couldn't have had any other time or any other place. Most here see me as the enemy, some of you would know me as a waitress ... some hopefully as a friend..." she paused and turned around, her stern face smiling brighter when she saw the worried gaze upon her girlfriend's face "... some as way more than that..." and turned around again to conclude with a loud booming voice. "But today I AM NONE OF THESE THINGS! I AM MARGARET, FOURTH OF MY NAME AND RIGHTFUL HEIR TO THE THRONE!"

Silence took hold of the market place after her words came down like lighting - sharp and mighty.

"Regardless of how much I wish I wasn't," she said much more subdued, now that she got everyone's attention. "I would give everything to be one of you. To be deemed worthy to live with you all, but today is not about me. Today is about standing up for the ones who deserve it more than anyone else. YOU!"

Cautious approval infested the masses and even the ones demanding her head earlier started to listen to the princess.

"My mother was supposed to represent, two people, to have two hearts beat in her chest. She failed every single one of you, all humans ... and went down a path of destruction, murder and oppression you all had to endure for too long. THIS ENDS TODAY!"

The first few cheers emerged from the ocean of previously angry and demoralized faces and Margaret appeared to rise in stature as the crowd's mood improved. Some would later say, she was inspired by the unwavering trust she saw on their faces, but only few knew that she was also committing on a far more personal level.

"Her reign of terror brought you pain and suffering I can't even dare to fathom. Fathers, sons, daughters and mothers she took away from you. But I promise you, not this time! She might have failed you, but I won't let her fail you one more time!"

Her gesturing grew wilder and more aggressive the louder her voice erupted from her strained vocal cords and peaked when she pointed towards the royal palace - a plea directed at her mother that was long overdue.

"You who I called mother, how could you allow your heart to grow so cold? Was it worth to give it away for the weight of your crown and your endless pride? All this death and destruction, was this what you always wanted to be remembered for? Which ruler... which mother would want that?"

Her knuckles whitened within her fist when Margaret shook her head and returned her gaze back to the crowd before her, with her free hand still pointing at the palace.

"This was my home! But whenever you look up you see just another symbol of oppression! Its chains reaching out for you whenever you even dare to lift your heads! Let me tell you, I felt these chains too! I FEEL YOUR PAIN! AND I SWEAR I FEEL TWO HEARTS BEAT IN MY CHEST LIKE DRUMS! UNLIKE MY MOTHER I WOULD NEVER TRADE EITHER OF THEM IN FOR JUST ENDLESS AMBITION AND GLORY! I WOULD NEVER FAIL YOU! I WOULD NEVER FAIL A PEOPLE I WOULD GIVE MY ALL TO BE A PART OF! I WOULD NEVER FAIL A PEOPLE THAT SHOWED ME WHAT IT MEANS TO FEEL ALIVE! YOU GAVE ME EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED AND I PROMISE YOU, TODAY I WILL PROVE THAT I AM ONE OF YOU!" Margaret shouted at the top of her lungs to a by now mostly supportive crowd.

Little did she know, that this would be a moment immortalized by more than a few artists in the horde of human onlookers. One that would change her reputation in the eyes of humans, but also hermaphrodites for eternity. History would turn out to be moldable as clay - fitting the agenda its writers demanded.

She would be depicted amidst a jubilant crowd, towering above them at least double her actual height and not surrounded by armed militiamen worrying about her safety. Margaret IV would be remembered with her with sword in hand, dressed in truly royal ermine fur and in front of burning houses with the palace looming on the horizon. The legend of the "phoenix" princess rising out of the ashes would be born that day and soon spread into the most remote corners of the kingdom and beyond.

Only few knew, that what the townsfolk experienced that day was no bigger than life figure gracing their streets with a fiery speech burning for eternity. It was a young, scared woman, ill fitted and poorly dressed trying to convince herself and the world that she was ready for what was about to come. A hermaphrodite mourning the life she could have had; wouldn't it have been for her royal heritage. A princess standing up to her mother and promising to stop her because it was right ... and because she had craved it for years. A girl becoming the woman she was meant to be.

Margaret regained her breath and watched over the citizen's, her eyes seeking out familiar faces at every corner, now that she wasn't exclusively focusing on her speech anymore. She spotted Gretchen smiling back at her in the distance and could have sworn that she even saw a hooded Remy somewhere in the crowd ... but her gaze rested on the horizon of houses in front of her.

She took in the familiar sight of the ocean of roofs extending all the way to the darker and poorer districts where proper maintained roofs vanished in a barely distinguishable shade of burned black or moldy grey. Even that sad fact didn't interest the princess in that moment. She just wanted to see her new home one last time in the distance, but Margaret was denied to catch that final glimpse.

The blonde sighed and begrudgingly accepted that she already had her final goodbye when she left the inn this time. While this realisation disgruntled the imposing princess, she didn't allow it to drag her down and she regained some strength when she saw how the masses of people turned from a hurricane, ready to tear everyone and everything apart into mild breeze.

"Thank you all. I will never forget you," she said one last time before turning around and stepping down from the podium. It would never be used again.

The first face she was greeted with when stepping down was Manuel's. The innkeeper was always a man of few words and at times an enigma she had to make sense of on her own, but the way he just calmly nodded and smirked was all she needed.

The royal heir returned the smile and rested her arm on his shoulder, just long enough to let him know that this fragile spark of hope was also his achievement.

Manuel fought the urge to cry but his eyes gave him away. He shivered, the trembling of his chin was barely under control but he smiled and kept nodding as he moved to the site.

Words would have failed to touch him on such a deep level Margaret thought and then found herself standing before Alexia, still leaning onto Ricky. The way she looked at the blonde had changed, just like Agatha, Ricky and Manuel over the last few days. She started to see more than the friend, even the lover she knew - the princess living up to her rank.

"That was a good speech," Lexi said. "Although a bit emotional towards the end."

The princess' face brightened up as soon as she heard her partner's dry humour. Thankfully not all had changed.

Ricky chuckled as well but almost like he was scared to laugh at Margaret stopped laughing as soon as her blue eyes rested upon him.

"My rhetoric tutors probably wouldn't be amused either," Margaret mused and walked closer to the duo and Agatha next to them.

"I will take it from here, Ricky. Thank you," she said and he, almost frighteningly obedient, let go of Alexia.

Margaret showed no visible reaction, but the way her friends started to perceive her now, send shivers down her spine and angered her more than she even expected.

"Let's get this over with," Margaret said.

"Wait," Alexia groaned while leaning onto her partner to reach her lips and continued after their kiss. "Now... let's do this... together."

"Together," Margaret replied, her arm once more around her partner's shoulder and tugging onto her waist.

The princess led the way towards the militia and the silenced mass of citizens. As soon as the two reached the human wall of shields and swords the formation opened up for them, followed by the civilians also clearing a way for the hermaphrodites to take. Their path laid before them, as clear as their final goodbye awaiting them. The end of the paved plaza signalled the outmost border of the town and the beginning of the king's personal domain.

Margaret and Alexia collectively turned around again, her new family all standing closest and spearheading a seemingly endless stream of people behind them. The princess spent hours on thinking about their last words to them, but nothing more needed to be said. Their farewell was a slow, creeping process over the last few days and loomed over every conversation they had. All what they wanted to say had been said already - one way or another.

The duo just smiled warmly and nodded at them as Manuel stepped forward and before the two could speak up or react, he wrapped around the two hermaphrodites' waists and pulled them close.

"Farewell, my children," he muttered timidly before giving into his emotion.

Alexia immediately burst out in tears as soon as he heard his words but Margaret kept her composed expression and gently ruffled through his last remaining hairs.

"We will be back. And we shall return victorious, my friend," she said and Ricky and Agatha also piled onto this last hug.

Would there be one moment in her life she could keep hold of and never let go, this would be the one. Still, like all things it was just a short gift to adore and grasp before it would be taken away by the unrelenting wrath of time.

"Thank you all, everyone," the emotional soldier cried and for a moment didn't notice the gaping hole in her side, even when Ricky was pulled straight onto it.

And with that the moment was gone as soon as it arose. The time for farewells was over and the time of action had just begun.

The two walked alone, but the eyes of all citizens, the militia and their friends were with them as Margaret and Alexia walked up the hill to the point where the path parted. One leading to the mighty fortress of stone above them and the other to the beaten path leading to the beach they originally came from.

"Why are we stopping?" Alexia asked.

"There is one last thing I need to show you."

The determination in her voice silently worried Alexia but didn't make her courage waver, she would follow her girlfriend nevertheless - even to the bitter end if that was their destiny.

The path took them back to the beach, but soon led them to a place the former commander didn't remember from when they arrived. A makeshift fence claimed a square in the sand and the reflections of metal within pierced through the hot summer sun.

Alexia's eyes widened when she was close enough to see what this unceremonious place resembled.

It was supposed to be a cemetery. With swords as tombstones. The swords of the royal guard.

Alexia immediately recognized every single member by their personal sword rammed into the ground. 28 swords with Cassandra's leading the line found their resting place on that beach. Over half of the royal guard.

"How... did you order them to..." Alexia muttered.

"No. Manuel just managed that their bodies would be brought here. I buried them... and made sure they would find peace with dignity and the respect they deserved."

The black-haired hermaphrodite let go of Margaret's side and tried to slowly push herself away.

"What are you..."

"I want to go closer," Alexia pointed at the sword with an ebony grip, with strays of a dark red fabric wrapped around it and a round golden pommel. Beth's sword.

Margaret also knew who this particular sword once belonged to and led Alexia closer until the two were standing right before it. She expected that Alexia would want to say a few last words or express her sorrow of having to kill her friend, but instead she groaned and gripped the sword with her left and started pulling.

"Stop, Lexi!" Margaret gasped, equally surprised and angered.

"Help me pull!" Alexia hissed and glanced at Margaret in an expression somewhere between pure rage and deepest regret.

"Lexi! Let her rest, please. You don't need to torture yourself," Margaret said.

"It's not about torture, Maggie. Beth's story ended too soon, but her swords story didn't come to an end."

"I don't understand," Margaret shook her head.

"I killed her, Maggie. I will have to live with that. I won't be able to ever change that, but the very least I can do is to honour her memory. I will take that sword and will continue its legacy for her... and one day, if the gods may allow that, I will return it. But only when I have proofed myself worthy to finish Beth's story. She would have understood that."

The princess' confusion vanished and with a swift pull released the ornamented blade from the ground.

"I am sure she would have appreciated that," she said and handed the blade to Alexia.

"She would have."

Alexia was barely able to hold the sword with her free hand, but both noticed the immediate effect this sword had on her. It gave her strength, strength she believed lost and made her push forward with the intention to make the very most of her life past this day, instead of silently accepting defeat beforehand.

"Maggie," she said calmly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For burying them. I will never forget that. Let's do them proud," she said equally as determined as Margaret before her - ready to live up to her duty and beyond.

Margaret guided her back onto the path and noticed how her girlfriend's newly gained strength dwindle as the two slowly scaled the hill - but not her determination. The red stain on Alexia's shirt grew bigger and damper but she pushed on just like the truly royal princess holding her and eventually ran into the inevitable.

A squad of scouts, all fully geared and ready to engage, spotted the duo on their way towards the palace and ordered them to hold.

"You two! Stop right there! By the order of your highking I demand you to stop!" the young voice shouted from under her lowered visor as the troop approached the two.

Five hermaphrodites, basic infantry, not one of the elite soldiers at the palace, circled Margaret and Alexia, their hands greedily clenching around the grips of their swords in anticipation for a proper fight.

"They are not one of us, aren't they?" one asked.

"She got a sword, captain," the smallest said.

"Where are you two going? Who are you?" the leader asked complacently and turned towards Margaret after she took a good, long look at the blooded black-haired woman.

"I am Margaret, daughter of Anastasia and Euridike and by the order of your princess you will lead me to my mothers, soldier."