Queen Yavara Ch. 50

I brushed her hair behind her ear, and drew my finger across the earlobe. She shuddered a little, and I smiled knowingly. "You feel pleasure here."

"Yes."

"Then that is where I would start." I whispered, pinching the lobe lightly, "I would be gentle at first. You might even enjoy it. Then, I would make it hurt just a little but more. Then a little bit more, then a little bit more, then a little bit more." Eva whimpered as I pinched harder and harder, "Increment after increment, I will increase the pain, knowing how you will react, playing you like music until you finally—"

"Stop!" she cried.

I released her ear, and smiled. "I deal in pain the same way I deal in pleasure. That is what it means to be like me. The forbidden line is dealing in horror. You see, I won't stop even after you beg. I won't stop until I've reached the pinnacle, and then... what? What do you do when a person can no longer feel any more pain? Well, you remove both pain and pleasure from them." I made a scissors motions with my fingers, and clamped it on Eva's ear, "Then, they are less than they were a second ago. Then, they know horror. That is the ultimate control. You are God to them, and they bow and break to your every motion." I planted a loving kiss on Eva's parted lips. "So," I whispered, "do you really think you're like me?"

"No," she whispered back, her breath shuddering, "not yet."

"Not ever, Eva." I sighed, and rolled over. "You're a good girl with a bad side. You have no idea who I am."

"Maybe I just need someone to push me that extra step."

"No one's watching us right now. You could gag me, tie me down, and do as you please." I looked over my shoulder at her, "If I were you, and you were me, I wouldn't have to think twice. I'd start with your cock, then move to your pussy, then your nipples, then your fingers and toes. I'd keep your eyes so that you could see what was being done to you. I would only blind you after I'd removed your nose, ears and lips, so that the mutilation of your face was the last thing you ever saw."

"Just talk."

"Believe what you wish, Eva Alecia. You mean nothing to me." I yawned, and snuggled into my sheets, "You were easy to beat today. Such a disappointment."

It wasn't anger that crossed her face, but a strange rejection. She fiddled insecurely with her leather gloves, like she felt like an imposter with them on. Then her expression flattened, a contemplative look forming across it. A broad grin slowly crept upon her lips. She looked at me, her teal eyes twinkling. "You are a master indeed, Leveria Tiadoa." She said appraisingly, "I should've respected you more; now I realize that I've waltzed foolishly into the lioness's cage." She laughed, and looked dotingly upon me, "I've never met a more dangerous woman than you. I would say that Yavara should kill you right now, but it wouldn't make any difference, would it?"

"No."

Eva nodded, and backed away. "What's coming for us, Leveria?"

"Death."

"Just talk."

I smiled at her. This time, she did not smile back. She closed the cell door, and left in a hurry. In her wake, there was only silence. My smile faded. I turned to the ceiling, and snuggled into my bedsheets. I would think of Elena tonight. She helped me get to sleep.

ELENA

I'd met with more artists, musicians, playwrights and thespians than I'd ever wanted to. It was clear that Lady Jonias delighted in their company, and they obviously reveled in her generous patronage, but I found them all to be very boring. The artists were all clinically depressed, the musicians were all drug addicts, the playwrights were all drunks, and the thespians were all sluts. There wasn't a single one of them that didn't fill a cliché. Or perhaps I was just jaded. In retrospect, they were all very kind to me, and eager to show their support. Maybe I was bothered because they were so enamored with the high-elf noble I was presented as, and not the woman I truly was. I had stopped pretending to be someone different ever since Yavara had changed me, and I'd forgotten how terrible it was to wear a mask over my own soul. Even in the Noble Court I hadn't needed the mask. It was only with Mother that I'd worn it.

I'd spent the whole day ruminating on the things I'd said to her, and wishing I hadn't. I loved my mother, truly I did, and I knew she loved me despite all that I wasn't. I could've just left the relationship stay comfortably as it was, but I had to go and wreck it for my own self-centered satisfaction. I wasn't sure if I could look at her again.

It was well-past dark by the time Lady Jonias wheeled me into the great hall of her manor. She illuminated the room with a quick spell, and the vast staircase shown before me.

"Well?" She asked teasingly, "Didn't you promise me you'd climb up the stairs by six tonight? It's eleven, so I'm sure the added rest will make it that much easier."

I was too exhausted to play the game. I raised my hands in surrender, and slouched back in my chair.

Lady Jonias laughed musically. "Making grand promises you can't keep. You're already halfway to being a proper queen. Now, you just have to find a minority group to blame for your failures."

"Or she can fulfill her promises," came an all-too familiar voice from the alcove. I turned my head to see Mother leaning against the archway, watching me with her steely eyes.

"What are you doing?" I sighed.

"My house was burned down, Elena." Mother said, walking toward us, "I don't have a place to stay in Bentius. Lady Jonias was kind enough to offer me one of her guest rooms." She stopped on my right side, and smiled to our host. "I can take it from here, my lady. Thank you."

I groaned. "Mom, I meant what the hell are you doing?"

She looked down at me, her face set in a grim frown. "Being your mother." She took me by the hand, and with surprising strength, she hoisted me out of the chair. I cried out, the pain lancing up me from my feet to my neck, every inch of me rigid with misfiring signals. I pitched forward, but Mother held me upright, bracing me against her shoulder. "One step at a time, Elena," she said, throwing my arm across her back, "it might seem impossible, but that's only because you haven't started yet."

"Let me go!" I growled.

"No." She said simply, and hauled me forward. I dragged my feet against the carpet and slouched in her embrace, but she kept her back rigid and her shoulders high even with my weight bearing upon her. She carried me to the landing, then began ascending the steps. "One step at a time," she grunted, sweat shimmering on her forehead, "I know the first step is the hardest, Elena. Take it whenever you're ready." She heaved forward with each ascending footfall, her breath puffing from her chest, her face flushing with exertion, but still she moved onward.

"You think this means something to me?!" I snarled.

"It means something to me," she said with a heave, and stumbled forward. She caught herself on her hand, straining to keep me upright. With a lurch, she hoisted me back into position, and recommenced the climb. "Whenever you're ready, Elena," she gasped, "take the first step."

"Fuck you."

"Whenever..." she growled, her entire body shaking with the effort, "you're..." she fell to one knee, and the shock of the impact moved through her, and into me. She cried out, blood staining her dress, but she just planted her foot beneath her, and pushed us up one more step. "...ready!"

I lifted my leg, and plopped my foot before me. With the utmost effort, I shifted my mass forward, and daintily place weight upon the appendage. Mother still carried most of me, and my leg shook with the strain of it, but I managed to keep myself balanced atop my right foot. Mother heaved us up another step, and I raised my left leg, and slammed my foot awkwardly in front of the other. One step. Mother heaved again, and I took another, this time, adding more weight to the leg. Mother heaved a third time, and again, I flopped my foot before me, and added weight. For twenty more steps I did this, until I was nearly walking all by myself on the last one. When we got to the landing at the top, I pitched forward in exhaustion, and Mother couldn't stop herself from falling with me. We collapsed in a heap, our clothes plastered to our bodies, our hair hanging in disheveled strands.

"Lady Jonias?" Mother called weakly.

"Yes?" She responded, her high-heels appearing in my vision. She stood above us, looking both perplexed and amused.

"Please help me up."

Jonias struggled to get Mother to her feet, then Mother did the same for me. She hoisted my arm across her shoulders, and I moaned an objection.

"Oh, shut up." Mother grumbled, and waddled with me into the guest bedroom. Jonias followed in afterward, but Mother graciously refused her help. I was too tired to complain anymore anyway. Mother dropped me on the bed, and I went unconscious the moment my face hit the pillow.

ADRIANNA

The wind howled off the Western Sea, and the wolves howled from the east. They were far away, maybe ten miles. If I could hear them, it meant I was within their hunting range, and the brethren they called for would not answer if they were stalking prey. I knew I had been followed. The sun was setting over the ocean, though it was impossible to see behind the mist. Only the grey dusk light hinted at its position. It was the moon that illuminated the world now, bathing the snow, the blanketed pines, and the sky in pale monochromatic blues. My breath fogged from me. The air burned my flesh with cold. I pulled my hood up, and tightened the drawstring. I dismounted my horse. My boots crunched in the snow. The sound carried across the rolling hills, and disappeared behind the ridgeline.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. An answering sound came. My horse shifted nervously, its eyes wide, the panic rising in them. Crunch, crunch, crunch. My horse stomped into the snow, its hindlegs bucking, its hindquarters twitching. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The silhouette of a great hunched back appeared over the ridgeline. The moonlight caught it, shimmering its fur in silver, glinting from its ivory fangs. The light twinkled in its red eyes which had no pupils nor irises, only intensified centers that were focused on me. My horse screamed, and bolted. Its gallop sounded for five strides before there was a horrific roar, and a gurgling screech. I didn't bother to look behind me. I knew I was surrounded.

There were five of them, three of them bearing orc riders. The jockeys snickered and giggled to each other as they approached, but I didn't heed their taunts. My mind was only focused on my breathing. One breath, then another. My hands closed around the grips of my daggers. One breath, then another. The wargs circled me, their red eyes glinting with hunger, their great maws exposed behind their snarling lips. One breath, then another. Their teeth were each longer than my stretched hand, and sharp enough to punch through steel. One breath, then another. Flesh hung from their black gums, women and children turned to rotten meat. One breath, then another. The air fogged like smoke from them, the stench of their lungs coming closer, and closer. One breath, then another. Their paws tensed. Their backends dropped. One breath, then another. Their legs flexed. One breath, then another. They charged. One breath, then another.

I fell to my back as the beasts collided over me, their paws scraping at the space I used to be in. I rolled beneath one, stuck my blade in its belly, and sheared across. His guts opened, his tearing flesh sounding like rent clothing, his shriek sounding like a crow's bale. I rolled out from beneath his dropping awful, and jammed my knife into the forepaw of another beast. Before he could swipe at me, I'd ducked under his chest, shoved my blade into his throat, and slashed him from jaw to chest. Hot blood sprayed black upon the snow, and I jumped out from beneath the collapsing beast just in time to run head-first into another. Great jaws snapped at me, a finger's breadth from taking off my nose. I repaid her by shoving both blades into her eyes, and rolling atop her rearing head.

The rider was very confused when I popped up in front of him, but his confusion didn't last long. His head rolled off his shoulders, and I jumped from the dying steed's back to a summersault into the snow. I came up from my roll into a leap, and soared clean over the fourth warg's snapping jaws to tackle his rider. One slash across the throat splattered me with his blood, and before he even knew what had happened, I was gone. I leapt from the back of the warg, flew through the air, and landed before the final wolf and rider.

"Highland bitch!" The orc roared, pulling on his beast's reins. The great wolf reared onto its hind paws, standing twelve feet high, blocking the moon with its behemoth profile. The other surviving wolf circled behind me, her great paws crunching over the symphony of gurgled wails sounding from her dying pack. Crunch, crunch, crunch. She was only a stride away. Crunch, crunch, crunch. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck. Crunch, crunch, crunch. I pulled off my hood, and turned around.

The warg stared back at me. She had a scar on her face that ran from a notch in her ear, to a line in her jaw. It blinded her in one eye, but the other was a glimmering red, its center alight and intelligent. It was kindred. It was Alkandran. I knew this beast better than I'd known my own mother. I extended my hand, and placed it upon her massive forehead. She snarled for a second, then bowed. I dared to slide my hand down her snout. She opened her mouth, displaying the scores of daggers she had for teeth, the rotten elf-flesh still strung between them. She licked the back of my hand, whimpered, and dropped to her belly in submission.

"I am no Highlander." I said to the orc, not bothering to look at him.

The orc stuttered for five seconds before he managed to utter, "A-a-a-a-a-hyrbrid?!"

I turned then, but I didn't look at the rider; I looked at the great male warg he clumsily mounted. It was comical, really. It was like watching a mastiff begrudgingly bear a toddler upon its back, wondering how long it would have to wait before he could shake it off. The woeful expression on his fearsome face bespoke years of mistreatment from a hand that did not understand. And so, all it took was a simple extension of my fingers, and the warg shook his rider off like the nuisance he was, and lumbered over to me. One scratch behind the ear put him on his back, and one stroke across his great belly caused his tail to wag.

"I wish I could've spared the others," I muttered, "but to truly gain the respect of a hunter, you must prove yourself worthy." I looked at the orc for the first time, "You never earned the right to ride him. You broke him when he was young, and made a slave."

The orc blinked at me, then looked at the warg. "Ripjaw?" He asked dumbfoundedly.

"His name isn't 'Ripjaw.'" I said, running my fingers through the thick fur, "He has no name; none that you can speak, anyway, but the closest translation in our tongue is 'Jala.'" I glanced back at the orc, "And what is your name?"

"Ferjok."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Of course," he whispered reverently, "one of the nine matrons. Furia the Just, Eva the Punisher, Soraya the Punished, Alexa the Builder, Faltia the Commander, Brianna the Merry, Kiera the Gentle, Adrianna the Wise, and Elena the Lost."

I raised my brows. "They call me wise?"

His jaw dropped. "You are Adrianna? You are the governess of Alkandra?!"

I beckoned the beasts to rise, and hopped on the back of the female. I paused for a moment, in awe of the power the beast so easily harnessed. Every motion sent ripples up the muscles in her shoulders, the rises in tension moving me with ease. I looked over the side, and marveled at how high I was off the ground. I raked my fingers through her mane, and had to suppress a gasp when she purred. The vibrations rolled through her like an earthquake, and rumbled between my straddling legs. Oh, I understood now why the dark-elves of old rode these things. They were more than magnificent.

"Sasha is not her name, but it is the closest thing to it in this tongue." I murmured, stroking her mane, "And she is mine." I gestured to the male beside her, "Jala is not yours, Ferjok; not any longer. If he lets you ride him, it will be by his choice. If you try to force yourself upon him, it will be the last mistake you ever make."

Ferjok looked from me, to the warg beside me. He took one step forward, and the wolf swiped without a care, and tore Ferjok clean in half. The top half of the orc flew screeching into a snow bank, and the bottom half took one more step forward, before stumbling to a stop.

"Come, Sasha. Come, Jala." I said to the female and male before they could feast, "We have better prey to catch."

ZANDER

I washed my face in the basin. The cold moon was high in the window behind me, illuminating my chambers in pale light. Arbor lay in my bed; her plump mauve body concealed in a feathery shell of wings. There was a flash of shadow, and a moment later, Drake Titus was standing behind me in my reflection.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I asked bemusedly, "It doesn't work when I literally saw you coming miles away."

"Have you ever turned your back on a cat?" He asked with a feline smile, "They can't help but stalk."

I grunted a humorless laugh, and turned around. "Well?" I asked, "Did you bring me answers?"

Titus's smile faded. "I did, but first, I have questions."

"You already know too much."

"I have a question about you, specifically, Zander." Titus said, and gestured for me to sit.

"I'll stand."

He nodded. "Yavara is a... well she was a good woman, at least. She's at least a kind-hearted woman when it comes to most people, but she's... fragile. You once told me that Yavara wasn't like the other incarnations, and you thought that was a good thing. Do you still feel that way?"

I looked out at the full moon, and considered my words very carefully. "Yavara isn't fragile. She's strong like an oak. Her spirit can take a great burden, but it cannot bend, and when it reaches the breaking point, it snaps violently. Yavara is a good woman, until she isn't. Alkandi was never a good woman, but she was always flexible. Her spirit bent easily, but it never broke. She could stretch herself indefinitely. If you were to ask me four days ago who I thought would be a better Dark Queen, I would've told you Yavara."

"But now...?"

"Just tell me what your mother found, Drake."

Titus held up two vials of blood. One was marked with a 'Y' to indicate Yavara, and the other was marked with a question mark. "It took Mother only a sniff to identify Alkandi's spirit in Yavara. She wasn't sure why I had brought her a sample of the Dark Queen's blood. Then I showed her the other vial. She drank it, and ruminated for a tortuously long time. She then asked me for Yavara's sample again. After tasting it, she concluded that I must've mishandled the samples."

"Explain." I muttered, dreading the inevitable answer.

"She immediately could tell that the other sample was Leveria's; siblings are easy to detect. What confused her, was why Yavara's blood tasted like two different people. This was a distinction I could not taste myself, so I asked her what she meant. She said the sample I'd given her tasted like Alkandi at first, but when she studied the spiritual undertones on her palate, there were two flavors." Titus paused for a moment, then said, "She then asked me if I had accidentally contaminated Yavara's sample with her sister's, for the spiritual flavor of Alkandi was exactly that of Leveria's."