Queen Yavara Ch. 56

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed what was left of my friend, and dashed past the window. The paw smashed through it again, missing me and my mother by a hair. We raced past the second broken window, and the paw slammed a second later, tearing the carpet into ribbons with its great claws. I stopped just short of the third window in time to see the shadow cross its beams of light. I set Huntiata down, grabbed another body, and threw into the pale luminance. The black paw came down again, and I came after it with a fury. My sword arced down, and cut through bone like butter. There was a hellish shriek on the other side, and the sound of claw scraping on stone. The beast's scream faded as it crashed upon the rock, and then ended when it thudded onto the beach a hundred feet below.

I turned back to Huntiata. The pale light illuminated the side of his face, sparkling off his teeth from the hole in his cheek. He showed me the rest of his bloody teeth with a grim smile. "We had some fun, didn't we?" he mouthed, barely any sound coming from him.

"Yes." I whispered, kneeling to his level.

"That's what it's all about." He laughed, not heeding the blood that ran freely from his nose and mouth, "That's all life is. Just a bit of fun, eh?" The smile faded from his lips, and his eyes went dull.

I took his bald head in my hands, and touched our brows. "I'm sorry, Sherman." I hissed between my tears.

Mom put her hand on my shoulder, and pulled me back from the corpse. "Elena, we have to keep moving."

We walked silently down the royal halls. The deeper we got into the castle, the more the bodies piled up. By the time we got to the throne room's entrance, we could hardly walk without stepping on the dead. Only here, the fallen enemies outnumbered the elves. Great iron bolts were imbedded into the bodies of at least twenty wargs. The wolves had been struck with such force that their flesh had been split by the shock of it, cleaving them all the way through. The iron ballistae bolts stuck from the stone walls like rebar, twisted and deformed by the energy of their impact. We ducked beneath the hazardous debris, and moved carefully through the long claws and fangs of the dead wolves. I expected at any moment that their eyes would open, and they'd rip into my leg with one snap of their jaws, but all laid perfectly dead on the plush red carpet, their blood adding to the color.

We summited the final dead wolf, and the light of the throne room shined onto us. And there, sitting at the very end of the long hall, was King Lucas Ternias. Two ballistae flanked his throne, but the crews who had operated them were all dead. Their bodies were piled up right before the throne, lying atop the corpse of the one wolf who had slipped through the crossfire.

"And so, the mystery is solved!" Ternias laughed when he saw me. "I was wondering why all those posters of you were showing up in the lower wards. I actually thought it was due to your mother—not your mother's doing, mind you, but because of her. But where are my manners? Welcome, the Ladies Straltaira." He gestured for us to come in. Mom and I looked at each other, then peeked around the corners. There had been an ambush set up there, but the ambushers were dead, along with two wolves. Carefully, I slid off the belly of the warg, and entered the throne room.

Mom and I walked side-by-side down the red carpet, looking every-which way for a royal mage or an archer. We found them; all of them were dead on the way to the throne. I could see the bloody path the wolf had made through them, and could trace its moves nearly verbatim by the orientation of gore on the walls and floor.

"It occurred to me last night that there would be an attempt on my life today." Ternias said as we walked toward him, "Lady Jonias, Lord Huntiata and Lord Feractian had all been conspicuously silent, and with all the posters of you popping up, I guessed that someone was likely going to use your mother as a tool to legitimize their claim to the throne." He laughed as if realizing the punchline to a joke, "Never in a million years did I guess that you'd survived that fall."

"I didn't."

He gave me a bemused smile. "I'm sure. Anyway, I spent all of last night meticulously running through every scenario that would result in my defeat, and I enacted my plan. It was a perfect plan given the resources at my disposal, though it appears I underestimated you, Elena Straltaira—though of course, I didn't know it was you I was underestimating." He kicked the dead warg in front of him, and laughed, "I guess all that mumbo-jumbo about peace was just hot air after all! Well played!"

"This wasn't me!" I snarled.

He laughed harder. "You can drop the act! I'm already very impressed!"

"Lucas!" Mom snapped, "Do you really think I would ever even consider a plan like this?!"

He shrugged. "What can I say, Lydia? I can only see the world through my eyes, and I know very-well what I am capable of."

A chorus of screams came from the corridor. The familiar snarls followed, then the wails of agony, then silence. I watched the entrance of the throne room, and waited, clutching my sword with white knuckles. There was an explosion of gore, and a single warg burst through the remains of its brethren, and charged right for me. I pushed Mom out of the way, drew my sword, and dove forward. The beast leapt at the same time, and while we moved on our trajectories, I twisted in the air, slid beneath its swiping paw, and jammed my sword into its chest. The blade split cleanly through muscle and fat, opening a bloodless line from sternum to crotch as it passed over me. We fell on opposite sides. I hit the floor with a thud, and the beast hit the floor with a splat. Its insides plopped out of its dissected midsection, and the blood began to pump after it. I groaned, and threw myself upright, anticipating another attack from the entrance. Stepping backwards, I grabbed Mom by the hand, and made my way to the throne.

"Ah, I see." Ternias muttered when we arrived. His pants were soaked in piss, but otherwise, he seemed quite calm. "So, you knew nothing of this?"

"No!" I growled.

He just stared at the dead warg in the middle of the hall, and chewed on his lip. "Are you going to kill me then?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For Leveria." I growled, and leveled my sword under his chin.

He laughed. "Leveria has already enacted her vengeance, Elena. That magnificent cunt played us all even after her death. She truly was the best of us."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He held up a hand mirror that had been resting on the arm of his throne. "I got a call from Field Marshal Shordian this morning. He informed me that he and the entire army had just returned to South Fort. 'Why have you disobeyed my orders?' I'd asked him. Because Cavalry Commander Krakis had already massacred the Alkandran horde three days ago under the delayed orders of the ousted Leveria Tiadoa, and Shordian's army had turned around to rendezvous at South Fort to begin invasion preparations."

"WHAT?!" Mom and I exclaimed.

"That was my reaction exactly. I was, understandably, quite horrified that I'd just started another war with the Dark Queen. Even with her horde gone, her citizenry is more than ferocious enough to wage war, and she herself has deific powers we haven't seen on Tenvalia since the time of the Creators. Then Field Marshal Shordian informed me that the Lowland Fleet is precisely one nautical day away from entering the Alkandran Bay. Alkandra is doomed." Ternias sighed, the echoes of mirth still in his voice, "And as fate would have it—or as Leveria would have it, I suppose—we are all doomed as well. I really should have married that woman, you know. I should've got on one knee when I had the chance, and professed my undying admiration for her. Instead, I destroyed her. I can practically hear her laughing from hell." He looked up at me with a rueful smile, and inclined his head slightly. "You can kill me now, Elena Straltaira."

"No." I whispered.

"No?" He asked, surprised, "Why not?"

"Elena?" Mom asked.

I shook my head, tears running down my cheeks. I pulled my sword away, and sat on the steps of the throne. "Look around us, Mom." I muttered, dropping my head into my arms, "Look at what I've done."

"You didn't do this."

"I did." I whispered, "Five months ago, Yavara revealed herself to me. I was sitting in a chair in Prestira Rasloraca's bar, and she was straddled across my lap. I had my knife against her throat. Not even Zander could've saved her if I had done what needed to be done, but instead, I fucked her." I wiped my eyes, "If I had just done what I was supposed to do, what I'd been trained to do, none of this would've happened."

"This wasn't Yavara. You heard that orc."

"She didn't order the attack, but she's the reason it happened. She didn't start the war, but she's the reason it was waged. Leveria tried to tell me so many times why Yavara was such a threat, but I didn't listen. I didn't understand, but now I get it." I gestured around the room, "This is what our forefathers were terrified of. This is why the rangers were created. The power of the Dark Queen isn't her magic; it's her ability to unify beasts that hate each other, and point them at something they hate even more. Yavara didn't get the Ten to follow her until she attacked Castle Thorum. She couldn't build a nation until she built a horde. She couldn't be a queen until she won a battle."

"How many times did you say that Yavara wanted peace?"

I smiled bitterly. "She wanted a peaceful war, if you can understand that contradiction. She thought she could control the uncontrollable. She didn't give Gorlok the order, but she aimed him right at us." I looked up at Mom through a film of tears, "Leveria told me so many times that Alkandra and the Highlands could never coexist, that the hatred was too great. I was such a fool, Mom. I didn't listen to her. Well, I won't stand in her way this time." I looked at Ternias, and narrowed my eyes at him, "But I won't be the one who wears the crown when Alkandra burns."

"That's terribly noble of you, Lady Straltaira," Ternias said, rolling his eyes, "but it doesn't really matter, because we're all going to die anyway."

"No, we're not." I growled, and thrusted my thumb at the ballista behind me, "It takes a three-man crew to run one of those, and I was trained at Castle Thorum. Since all the other rangers are dead or gone, I'm the best fucking ballista commander in the Highlands."

"I would beg to differ," said a voice I recognized all-too well.

YAVARA

I opened my eyes. The world was black. No, there was a faint orange glow on the horizon. Was I dead? Perhaps. I was in a place of impermanence. I'd been here before.

"What the fuck?" someone gasped next to me. I looked to my left to see Leveria lying naked on the astral floor. She looked this way and that, then her eyes fell upon me. They widened for a moment, then settled back into their usual imperious glare. "Feeling... different, Yavara?"

I was, actually. First off, I was quite sure I was in the last hallucinogenic stages of dying. Secondly, I felt a terribly-familiar... emptiness in me. I didn't realize what it was until I looked at my hands. They were porcelain, the same color as the rest of me, and the hair that draped from my shoulders was platinum blonde. I knew what the feeling was then. I had felt it only once before, when my dichotomy had separated in the astral plane. I was just me. Though I was not cold, I was shivering. Though I was not in pain, every discomfort was acute. Though I was not in danger, I was terrified. The very idea of standing up seemed daunting, for standing would make me easier to see, and I didn't want to be seen. I wanted to curl into a ball and find a warm safe place to hide forever. I looked at Leveria, and cowered when she made eye-contact with me. How was it possible to look into another's eyes like that? It was like staring at the sun! Her gaze seemed to pierce right through me, see everything within, and know every weakness there was. Of course, it was quite easy for her to see my weakness, for there was no strength to be found. She chuckled lowly, and it was if the devil herself were laughing sardonically at my quailing soul.

"Zander promised me a moment like this." Leveria said softly, "So, this is the real you. Pathetic. Less than pathetic. You can't even look at me!" She giggled, "I can't believe it actually happened!"

Nothing has happened yet, came another voice. Leveria's smile faded. A child-like horror crawled across her face. Alkandi was coming. The orange glow on the horizon grew brighter, silhouetting thirty figures—one more than last time. I recognized Alkandi's angular features instantly, and beside her, I saw... me. It was like looking at a different person. She had the same profile as I did, but she moved in a way that was so sinuous and confident that it seemed alien. Was that how I moved? She had the same proud jaw and chiseled features as I did, but they were set in an expression of such power and arrogance that she seemed to claim ownership of everything her eyes rested upon. Was this how people had seen me? All of the incarnations walked in tandem with the original Dark Queen, every motion mirrored to perfection, but Yavara—Dark Yavara—seemed to walk with autonomy. Energy radiated from all of them, but shown most brightly from the two figures at the front, and my figure outshined Alkandi's like the sun does the moon. They all stopped five paces away, and looked down at me. It felt like I'd been flayed and pinned to the floor. I couldn't curl myself into a small enough ball. Alkandi stepped forward, and my incarnation followed.

Yavara, Alkandi cooed, extending her hand to me, come back to me. Come back to us.

"Objection!" Leveria squeaked, her voice pitched high with terror.

Alkandi and my incarnation ignored my sister, and knelt beside my resting form. I was too terrified to flee, and could only curl deeper into my fetal ball. There's no need for doubt, Alkandi said gently, rebecome us, and feel no fear.

"W-w-w-why are w-w-w-we n-n-not o-o-ne?" I stuttered.

Don't concern yourself with it. It doesn't matter.

"I'd say it fucking does!" Leveria squeaked again.

I turned to my ethereal projection, and immediately quailed under her gaze. "W-w-who a-a-are y-y-you?" I hissed.

She can't speak, Yavara, Alkandi said, putting her hand on Dark Yavara's muscled shoulder.

"W-w-w-why n-n-n-not?"

Because she's no one now. All these women you see are just the shells left behind by those who died. I cannot occupy them, but I shepherd them. This woman needs you right now, but not nearly as much as you need her. Alkandi extended her hand toward me, and I cringed away. She smiled compassionately, and brushed my hair away from my face. I loved Elena Straltaira. I befriended Prestira Rasloraca. I forgave Adrianna. I wept when I felt alone. I laughed when I felt belonging. Didn't you as well? Every emotion and thought you have had; I have had. There was no you and I. There was only us. She looked at Dark Yavara, This was us. This was you. This was 'I.' I have told you, Yavara, that you and I are but two halves of a whole. She gazed reverently upon my dark face, And look at what we become together. A god.

"Excuse me!" Leveria's shrill voice interrupted, "Alkandi! Hey! Over here!"

Alkandi pointedly ignored my sister, and instead focused her gaze on me. I can see your terror, Yavara. I can smell your self-doubt, your insecurity, your anxiety. Have you ever felt these things so vividly before? No. I gave us our boldness. I gave us our bravery. I was the one who charged into the fray without a second thought. I was the one who never feared another man or woman. You can't even look me in the eye. She took me by the chin, and guided our gazes together. Her orange eyes glowed in the astral darkness, alighting the highlights of her angular face. You are nothing without me, and I am nothing without you. Rebecome us.

"Hey, bitch!" Leveria shouted, "You can't keep pretending I'm not here!" She marched toward us, and Alkandi's thirty incarnations all shifted as one, turning so suddenly that it seemed they blinked into place. They moved between Leveria and I, and took one ferocious step toward her. Leveria squealed, and scampered away. Alkandi herself never broke eye-contact with me.

Yavara, there is no reason to feel doubt now, she whispered.

"Then why am I here?" I asked quietly, not stuttering for the first time.

A mistake, nothing more.

"Whose mistake?"

Alkandi pondered me for an excruciating moment. There are some things that do not need to be known.

"What are kindred spirits?"

Alkandi's frown turned dangerous. It doesn't matter. Didn't I tell you that already?

"Answer the question, bitch!" Leveria yelled, then scuttled away with a screech when the incarnations took another unified step toward her.

Alkandi held out her hand. Come, Yavara.

I looked over at Leveria. Though she was obviously terrified, she was resilient in the face of that terror. How? Terror was overwhelming. It washed over me, pricked every nerve, and poured panic into my mind. If I didn't take Alkandi's hand, then there would be no shield for this naked terror. If I didn't take her hand, then she would be angry with me, and heaven only knew what she would do to me! She was the Dark Queen for god's sake!

"Yavara!" Leveria yelled, "you rejected her before! You can do it again!"

I looked from Leveria, to Alkandi, to Leveria again. When I next looked at Alkandi, her face was set in rage. She grabbed me by the throat, pulled me up, then slammed me down on my back. Pain shot through me, a concussive bell droned in my head, and I blinked stupidly until Alkandi's snarling visage was clear above me.

Do not even think of it, you sniveling whore! Alkandi growled, If I have to rape you into submission again, I'll fucking do it!

"I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry!" I managed to sputter out.

Her face suddenly softened into a loving smile. The transition was so abrupt that I wondered if I'd missed something. Do you remember how good I made you feel? She cooed, I just want you to feel good, Yavara. I don't want to hurt you. Please don't make me hurt you.

"I w-w-w-won't!"

I know you won't, Alkandi whispered, brushing my disheveled hair from my face. You're just confused and scared, but I'll make it all better. I've got you, Yavara. You're safe with me. Let me love you.

Her fingers moved on my body. Sliding up the flat of my tummy, they painted a path of tingles. She watched me with her orange eyes ablaze, their depths wrought with both tender love and avarice. When her hands gently cupped my breasts, I was no longer afraid to meet her gaze. Alkandi would keep me safe. Alkandi would make the fear go away. Alkandi would give me pleasure. Her delicate fingers barely brushed the domed mammary flesh, but the graze had such an effect on me that my nipples were achingly stiff by the time she reached them. She played her fingertips across each of the nodes, brushing them so tenderly, making them bounce subtly across each pad. One of her hands stayed on my chest to draw a tortuous path around the prickled dark flesh of my left areola, and the other snaked up my collar, up my throat, and slid smoothly behind my head. Her wonderful little fingers snaked through the roots of my hair, and her palm widened around the base of my skull until she cradled my head entirely in her hand. Lassitude suffused my trapezius muscles, and with a whimper, I wilted into her hold, becoming limp and wanting, receptive and ready. She leaned down, her black hair falling around my face, tickling my chin and cheeks, curtaining us so that we were the only people in the world. Her orange eyes never broke our gaze as she moved upon me, and touched our lips.