Out of the Ashes Ch. 21

"Then you leave me no choice. Believe me when I say my heart breaks upon seeing the weak will you have become, Euridike. But unlike you, I will not forget the oath we once swore and if that means standing up to the daughter of women, I once called my friends, so be it," Theresa said and her daughter drew her sword as Sybilla shot off her seat, ready to draw her hidden sword as well.

Theresa didn't flinch when swords were about to be drawn while she openly committed treason. But once she heard the echo of armoured sabatons behind her she shuddered.

The white-haired lioness turned around and gasped when she saw the single 10ft guard standing at the end of the hall.

"So, you brought your guards. Good, they shall see and hear the shortcomings of the pretender who replaced their king," Theresa hissed angrily over her shoulder, but her eyes kept resting on that one guard, unable to see past the black helmet yet.

The hulking soldier slowly walked closer and appeared to grow taller as she closed in, until she reached an unheard height -- an almost unheard height. And she showed no sign of stopping even when mere feet separated her from the archduchess' family. With each step she took, the cold confidence gracing Theresa's seasoned face, slowly crumbled as she realised what was going on.

"All I see are the shortcomings of one old lioness, archduchess," the armoured giantess whispered as she passed between Theresa and her battle-ready daughter.

The towering warrior's steps were slow, prudent and awaiting the strike that would force her to act. The archduchess' daughter didn't seem to have realised who just gave her a glimpse of death, but it visibly dawned on Theresa and left her in shock.

"Ana?" Theresa muttered but earned no reaction.

"My king," the guard said and bowed down after walking up towards the throne. "It is done."

Margaret felt her chest swell with pride and strength upon hearing those words. She gazed down at the archduchess who looked in horror at the hulking woman kneeling before her king.

There were no words that Margaret could draw from, lines of triumph she had meticulously prepared beforehand, not that any could describe the relief she felt in that moment.

"Rise, my protector. Show yourself to our guest. For she asked for your presence earlier," Margaret said and almost triumphantly wielded her royal sceptre with an elegant swing of her wrist.

Her protector took off a helmet that wasn't hers and certainly not the one she wore as she carved her way into the history books. Nor was the sword dangling from her side a replacement for the two sabres she fielded into countless victories. But the legend of the "black death" wasn't forged by the steel or armour she wielded, but the feats of a warrior that transcended any other. That's how she would echo through eternity and that's the aura she wielded in the present. The admiration of her followers ... and the crippling fear of her opponents.

Kingmother's black strays of hair were turning silver by now, but her fiery green eyes didn't lose any of their frightening determination and made the archduchess and her daughters shake with fear.

"Ana... why are you..." Theresa muttered and only slowly rekindled the composure that made her such a frightening adversary, "what have you done?"

Margaret could only make out the beginning of a terrifying smirk as her mother slowly walked down to the archduchess. Step after step and with the authority of a king, that now wore steel instead of a crown -- and was no longer bound by the rules of kingship.

"You mean 'this', Theresa?" Anastasia said calmly and gently wiped over her pauldrons that connected to her long, golden white cloak with the insignia of the royal guard. "This is me upholding my oath, Theresa. The one you must have forgotten yourself."

The archduchess had regained some of her strength after that initial scare, but both her daughters remained visibly shaken. Lucilla, who must have regretted every second ever since she set foot into these halls, didn't lift her head since she realised that she stood before her former king. Her sister on the other hand, still held her sword with her strong right, but no matter how much strength she possessed she could not stop her arm from shaking as the blade jolted towards Anastasia's direction.

"You have forsaken your duties not I, Ana. What is this madness? Do you not have any respect for the title you held? For the price we have paid so you could sit right there, on that forsaken throne of yours," Theresa hissed with growing frustration.

"There are many ways to serve our people, Theresa. This was the promise we gave to them, not to decide who ruled over them, but that their fates were in steady hands and nothing has changed in that regard and it shall remain so after today's events," Anastasia returned and took her final step closer as she slowly descended the stairs leading up to the throne.

"How handing over your sacred duty into less capable and misguided hands can be considered honouring your oath is beyond me," Theresa growled.

Margaret braced herself for any outcome, one that resulted in noble blood being spilled right before her throne and one that would allow all parties to rekindle their friendship, but she did not expect to see her mother smiling in such dark times.

Anastasia's grin was not one calculated intimidation, no, she shone bright as she turned around and looked at Margaret and Alexia who grew paler throughout that entire exchange, but remained steadfast as always.

"Misguided you say? Your judgement must have gotten worse with age, Theresa. Rarely have I ever seen hands more capable and more unyielding in their morals. The worth of a soul is determined by their actions and their commitment to the virtues they chose to live by. Such souls are indeed worthy for the most important of duties. And if that means turning in a crown for a life of service, to step aside for such enlightened souls, so be it," Anastasia said after bestowing strength upon her king with the smile of a mother.

"You are blinded by your emotions, Ana. By motherhood, by sentimentality. Your sharpness must have been left behind in that cell of yours. Not only did you throw away all your titles, all the stability you could bring to our kingdom, but gave it to those who could not wield such power and those who are no longer allowed to," the archduchess said on the verge of shouting towards Anastasia's broad back, but the 10ft warrior did not even react.

"Again, you are wrong, Theresa. One life was given to the crown and one to those who protect the ones wearing it. Two holy oaths that determined one's fate. A burden we would have to carry through our lives and into our graves," Anastasia said and smiled upon Alexia, who couldn't help but return the warmth herself.

The former highking, steeled in battle and forged in blood, turned around and silenced the archduchess once again as she rested one hand on the handle of her new sword.

"But no promise will be left broken today. One life will be devoted to the people, to every living soul in this kingdom we forged. And one life will assure that this holy duty will be fulfilled and not threatened by anyone opposing the one who was burdened with it. An oath for an oath, Theresa. A life for a life. And both warriors shall remain intact in their honour and dedicated to the greater good."

"You have lost your mind," Theresa hissed between gritted teeth.

"Did I?" Anastasia smiled, but not warmly, not in a way a mother would, but like the warrior that earned her reputation.

Her heavy steps came closer until Theresa's daughter's sword was within her grasp and kept pointing at the hulking soldier, but still Anastasia was the one dominating her opponents with fear.

"Today's course of action wasn't chosen lightly, archduchess. Like you, I don't tend to make such decisions frivolously. 'When preparations meet opportunity greatness arises' you once told me and it holds truth to this very day. And I have come prepared today," Anastasia said and slowly slid her hand around her handle and teased Theresa's daughter without addressing her with a gaze.

"Being a sister of the sword was no exception. And neither was the fact that I would be the only one allowed to wear my arms in these sacred halls. Unlike you and your daughter, who keeps insulting me with her insolence and ignorance just inches away from my face. So, if you cherish her sword arm, order her to sheathe her sword. I won't warn her again," Anastasia said with a voice of ice.

The lioness never looked more toothless. She stood over a foot smaller than kingmother, but she could have been half her size and the difference in their authority would just have been reflected properly. Her cubs didn't fare much better. The brawn of her older daughter paled into comparison to their former king and while her chance of success was already slim would she have faced Sybilla, there was no hope in duelling Anastasia.

"Do... as she says, Adrianna," Theresa said calmly, but fear accompanied her faked composure.

Adrianna obeyed immediately and when she eventually earned a look from Anastasia shivered with all her powerful frame. The strike she expected did not come, but she learned her place and who decided her fate, with or without a fight.

"Your treason would not go unpunished under my reign, Theresa. You know that," Anastasia said with the coldest of threats. And one that even made the archduchess crack under the pressure.

"GUARDS!"

Her voice echoed through the empty hall and escaped the marble throne room past the gate that separated her from her trusted warriors. But no one returned her order.

"GUARDS!" she yelled again. This time with the desperation of a woman who knew she never had to repeat herself.

"No one will answer your call, archduchess," Anastasia said as she towered above an intimidated woman that now looked every bit as old and broken as she made herself out to be. "But my sisters will."

Anastasia whistled louder than the trumpets that usually thundered through those halls when they announced their king. She cast her shadow over the noble family before her as dozens of armoured sabatons and the rattling of plates erupted from the entrance behind Margaret's throne.

By the time that door sprang open, the archduchess' aura of decades of triumph and authority had been shattered. Margaret could tell, just by the way she returned her new king's gaze, that this champion of old acknowledged defeat, but she did not fully grasp the extent by how far she was outplayed yet.

Lyssa, Alexia's successor, entered and brought with her the king's sworn protectors, yet none of them were sisters of her and kingmother yet. They still wore the colours and arms of the archduchess they served mere minutes ago, wrapped into the white coat of the royal band of sisters that they swore loyalty to just now.

Anastasia bowed as her new commander entered and lined up their most recent sisters in two columns each side of the throne's stairs leading up to Margaret who kept her majestic gaze upon the defeated archduchess.

"You turned my own knights against me?" Theresa said in defeat, exhausted and void of any fight.

"No. You turned them against yourself," Anastasia said and pointed at her new sisters. "Each one of them took up their blades to protect the ones that could not defend themselves. Long before they entered your service. This was the fate each warrior chose for themselves. And today they chose to took up the mantle from those who paid the ultimate price for the kingdom they devoted themselves to, Theresa. To serve the highest cause and not serve a woman that made them forget their holiest duties as much as she broke her own oath," Anastasia said.

"I NEVER BROKE ANY OATH I SWORE!" Theresa snapped, surprisingly not in desperation but genuine, untamed fury. "Do not tell me what it means fulfil such a holy promise! I know this better than you!"

"Yet, I have to remind you that you serve your king and not your own interests," Anastasia returned sternly.

"MY OWN INTERESTS?! Do not dishonour me and the sacrifices I made, by rewriting my legacy! I gave you and this kingdom everything! EVERYTHING! A life of sacrifices that you could not even comprehend! I gave my own blood, the blood of my family on the altar of war so you could succeed! UNLIKE YOU I CHOSE THE KINGDOM OVER MY OWN BLOOD! AND I WOULD DO IT AGAIN! NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT, NO PRICE TOO HIGH! YOU CAN TAKE MY PEOPLE, MY FAMILY, EVERYTHING FROM ME, BUT NEVER, NEVER SAY THAT I BROKE MY OATH!"

Never had anyone seen the lioness this rabid or heard any outburst with this much passion from her. Even the most seasoned of warriors, the ones that stood side by side with her for decades were taken aback over such a genuine, heartfelt plead. Margaret herself could not even start to unravel what a life one must have lived to value her honour at such a price. That even her family were expendable for her... and proclaim this right next to her daughters.

The highking a weight on her chest when she noticed that poor Lucilla at last had lifted her head. No humiliation, plotting or intimidation broke her out of her obedient stupor, but hearing her mother's words made her stand defiant. Her grey eyes were filled with sadness and disappointment, even for a woman that was never a true mother to her. Yet, this final abandonment, one that truly came from her mothers' heart, hurt deeper than one could hurt any daughter. Margaret could understand, like few could, but while her mothers proved her wrong today, Lucilla was tossed deeper into despair. Poor Lucilla.

"You brought war and intrigue to your king's feet. A king you swore loyalty to- "Anastasia began and got interrupted.

"I KNOW WHO I SWORE LOYALTY TO! THE KINGDOM... AND YOU! BUT NEVER HER!"

This was the moment her mothers prepared her for, the moment Margaret's victory would be struck.

"Then today this oath will be renewed," Margaret said as she rose from her throne.

All the armoured soldiers around her, kingmother included, fell to their knees as their king walked past them. Even Alexia, who barely managed to stand up straight, showed her king the respect her former title called for, although Margaret wished she would not have, but there was no letting behind this life entirely -- no matter if someone else took her place.

King Margaret laid her hand over kingmother's shoulder while she stood in front of the archduchess and her children. Adrianna, shaken to the core eventually followed Lucilla's example and bowed while their mother stood firm - not fearing death or any other punishment.

"Archduchess. Your honour was never in doubt until today, nor was your commitment to the good of this kingdom. Even now, after hearing you speak, I feel the weight of your words and the love for the world you help my mothers build. I wish not to see your and my mothers' work undone, but to move all our people into a future where they can build on your foundation," Margaret said and handed her royal sceptre to kingmother next to her as she towered before Theresa.

"You were given many gifts. Passion, honour, intellect, all chisels by which you formed the world around you," Margaret said and grabbed Theresa's hands before she could reject. "These hands could help building the future of our people. Too long were they used for war and destruction; it is time to use them to build the wonders of a new age. An age of peace. This is what I wish for my reign. Not bloodshed or war, but to leave such things behind. Your age was one of sacrifices, so that the next generation could prosper, let me honour the price you paid by doing the same. Offer me your hands, and today's events will be forgiven and we will remain two hearts sharing one dream."

Theresa's face was one of confusion and mixed emotion. One that could not comprehend the words she listened to, but wanted to believe them. Her eyes gave her away. She found common soil on her king's dream, but also knew that rejecting such an offer could mean only one outcome -- and it would be enforced by the woman she put on the throne once.

"What do you expect from me," Theresa eventually replied.

"The same commitment to this holy cause and to me, that you once gave to my mother," Margaret said and lifted her right hand, showing the ring that once graced her predecessor's fingers. The insignia of her house, the winged bear and the ring by which their oath would be sealed.

Theresa looked around once more, seeking the gaze of her former knights, but found only servants to their new king and her dream, just like her friends from wars long gone. She took a deep breath and slowly leaned in after kneeling down and recited the oath of many winters ago.

"My loyalty and servitude shall be given to you, my king, until the end of all days and beyond. That I swear by my honour."

"So, it shall be, archduchess. Rise as a friend to the crown and an architect of a new age," Margaret said, knowing that all onlookers would make this oath known to the world.

The archduchess' jaded face was none of joy, but recognised the promise she had given and as much it pained her, she slowly rose and showed no animosity to her new king.

"May I leave for my chamber now? I feel like the north has missed me for too long," she said.

"Then you shall leave, my friend. And return to your home, to regain the strength you are known for. Soon, I will call for your aid," Margaret said calmly.

"As you wish, my king," the archduchesses said softly and after throwing one last gaze upon queenmother and her wife, she turned around for the northern exit, with Adriana by her side.

Only Lucilla remained in the place she stood, her youthful face still drawn to the ground and not meeting the king that towered over a foot and a half above her.

Margaret noticed the archduchess' wait for Lucilla only after she was already halfway down the hall, but her younger daughter did not wish to follow her. The highking could only imagine what was going through her head and how much she must have dreaded their return north.

"My king," Lucilla said softly and bowed down, "I wish to devote my life to your service just like my knights did. I want to help you build this dream of yours."

Margaret almost teared up, knowing this was Lucilla's deciding moment in her life. The moment she parted with a family that never felt like hers, in exchange for a life that would also not be hers either. Yet, she was willing to make this decision and without any remorse. One must have suffered so much to get to this point, Margaret thought and one must have mustered so much bravery to make this last step.

The highking looked over to Theresa, who did not gaze motherly upon Lucilla, but in disgust, in open disappointment, not at a daughter that refused her, but a traitor. The archduchess did not wait for her king's decision and turned around before heading to the exit, leaving behind her second born, no matter Margaret's choice.

"Every heart, especially one so brave and noble, will be welcomed into my palace, Lucilla," Margaret said and took the blonde's hands to make her rise and show her eyes to her king.

The relief and pride radiating from Lucilla washed away any doubts Margaret could have had and brought her to a smile and warmth she almost didn't feel capable of.

"You will have many more sisters soon. Ones that will be worthy of that title, not just in name," Margaret said warmly.

She immediately saw the impact of these words and how much they moved a woman that never felt the sincerity of family. At the day of her mother's biggest humiliation, after denouncing her love for daughter and after turning away from such a mother, she would find an actual family. One could only imagine how much that meant ... but Margaret knew.