Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  “What are you waiting for?” Admiral Roapes called out to the guards as he came to his senses. “We're in the middle of a barren desert, she’s powerless here, take her now!”

  The guards had barely moved when Queen Forsythia’s cloak came to life. Long strands of roses and thorns whipped out in all directions, wrapping themselves around the guards and their weapons and pinning them to the concrete walls. It happened so quickly that Nicole barely had time to blink.

  “I see that you do not intend to honor the old ways,” Queen Forsythia observed icily as she rested her gloved hands in a courtly fashion atop her staff.

  Admiral Roapes ground his teeth in frustration and turned to Nicole. “I thought you said their Queen was in a coma or dead or something.”

  “Old trees fall, new trees grow to replace them, but the forest remains,” Queen Forsythia explicated. “The Queen is the voice of the forest. So long as the forest lives, so does its voice.”

  “You're not quite as tall as the last one,” the Admiral snorted.

  If Queen Forsythia took any offense at the insult, she didn’t show it. Her face remained calm and gracious. “I believe you are misinterpreting the strength of your position here, Admiral. If I had used Cruisao seeds during that last volley, you and every invader on this island would be dead by now.”

  Admiral Roapes straightened his uniform. “I see, so you intentionally threw duds as a warning.”

  “You may interpret it as you wish, of course,” she granted coldly.

  “So why didn’t you just kill us?” Nicole asked, scratching the back of her hands.

  “Because killing you is not my goal. I spared your lives to give you an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity for what?” Admiral Roapes spat.

  Queen Forsythia tilted her head, as if the answer should have been completely obvious. “To join us, of course. Help me save our islands. Help me save our people.”

  Rachael squeaked oddly and ran out of the bunker. The Queen made no attempt to stop her.

  “You are still stuck on that?” Admiral Roapes denounced.

  A strand of thorns and roses began snaking up his leg and body, tearing the fabric of his uniform as it went.

  “My mother showed you mercy, even as you fatally wounded her. You destroyed our forest, and she let you leave with your lives. You murdered our children, and yet she returned your captured soldiers to you, their wounds mended and their bellies full. She held out offers of peace and alliance, even as you spat in her face.”

  Admiral Roapes was now wrapped in thorns up to his neck.

  “And after all that, this is how you chose to repay her kindness?” Queen Forsythia chastised. “You murder even more of our people and blight our lands so that nothing may ever grow there again? How can you even sleep at night knowing the evils you have committed?”

  Nicole turned her face away. “We can’t,” she admitted.

  Admiral Roapes choked against the thorns pressing into his throat. “You are just like she was. You try to make me personally responsible, when all I am doing is following orders.”

  Queen Forsythia released him and he fell to the ground. “But you do have a choice, Admiral. You always had a choice. You chose which side to be on, and you chose the side with evil and wicked leaders giving immoral and contemptible orders. You are absolutely responsible for that choice.”

  “What would you have us do?” Admiral Roapes coughed as he came to his feet.

  “Do what is right. Join our cause. Help us stop the Stone Council.”

  Nicole looked up with sadness and fear in her eyes. “Would you even have us, after all we have done to you?” she asked weakly.

  Queen Forsythia turned to Nicole, her eyes like ice. “I am not your confessor, I cannot offer you absolution for what you have done.”

  Nicole’s eyes fell in despair.

  The Queen stepped forward and placed a delicate hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “But I am here to offer you mercy one last time. To do any less would dishonor the memory of my mother and what she lived for.”

  Nicole looked up into the Queen’s eyes.

  Everyone in the bunker looked at each other in amazement. None of them had ever seen an enemy act this way before, with such restraint and clemency. It almost seemed unreal to them.

  The thorns released the guards but not their weapons.

  “My offer is to every man and woman in your invasion force,” Queen Forsythia announced. “Come, join us.”

  Admiral Roapes scoffed, tugging nervously on his well waxed goatee. The rest of the bunker was speechless.

  The silence was broken by a tearing noise. Everyone looked around for the source, then found Nicole pulling and yanking at the Navy badge on her uniform. Little by little it gave, then finally tore away. She threw it to the ground and ran her fingers over the bald spot left behind. The badge was gone, but a bleached mark in the fabric remained where it had been.

  “Nicole, what are you doing?” Admiral Roapes asked in amazement.

  Nicole crossed the room and stood by Queen Forsythia. “What I should have done months ago. I hereby resign my commission. I am joining the island of Wysteria in defense of my homeland.”

  Nicole turned to The Queen. “That is, if you will have me.”

  Queen Forsythia nodded charitably.

  “You're a traitor!” Admiral Roapes screamed, forgetting all decorum.

  “Oh, what the heck,” Jessica said as she also reached up and tore off her badge. She strutted over to join Nicole.

  “This is mutiny! That’s what this is,” Admiral Roapes spat.

  Three more of Admiral Roapes’ staff tore off their badges as well, as did two of the guards. They stood resolutely before Admiral Roapes and his remaining staff, now outnumbering them.

  “This dishonor will be upon the heads of your children, and your children’s children, up to the seventh generation!” Admiral Roapes screamed.

  “Please tell your subordinates that my offer is extended to each person in this fleet,” Queen Forsythia said to the remaining staff officers.

  “No one will tell them anything!” Admiral Roapes bellowed.

  “Then I will tell them,” Nicole announced, straightening herself up. “The Admiral doesn’t know any of the encryption cyphers anyway. I’m the one who does it all.”

  Nicole turned to The Queen. “Just get me to a prism stream and I'll make sure every man and women in the fleet knows.”

  “Nicole turned back to Admiral Roapes. “And I'll make sure they know what happened in here as well.”

  “Nicole...”

  Rachael ran back into the bunker as best she could in her high heels and short skirt, a hastily packed suitcase carried in her hands. “Wait, I’m coming too,” she giggled, mincing up to the others.

  “Rachael, you too?” Admiral Roapes huffed between breaths. “Why?”

  Rachael spat out her gum and kicked off her heels. “Because I’m sick and tired of pretending to be an air-head trophy for you,” she said. Her voice was now much lower then before, the bubbliness gone from her demeanor. “I graduated top of my class at the academy, for crying out loud, and all you want me to do is feed you candy and pour your wine, you lecherous old fart!”

  “Old fart?” Admiral Roapes repeated, his voice stunned.

  The Queen reached out and handed the Admiral a small potted plant.

  He took it and looked at it in confusion. “What is this?”

  “Why, the antidote, of course.”

  “To what?”

  “To the DeathCap spores you and your soldiers are breathing. The only cure is to ingest large amounts of this herb. I'll warn you right now, though, Quillwort is a very picky breed. Without a Treesinger it will only grow in a few isolated places. I recommend the Islet of Notorn.”

  “That’s on the other side of the world.”

  Queen Forsythia nodded graciously. “Yes, it is, and it will take you quite some time to grow enough herb to cure all your soldiers.”

/>   The Queen handed him a small bound book.

  “What is this?”

  “A book on how to farm. I suggest you read it on the way.”

  Another portal opened up behind Queen Forsythia and she stepped through, followed by Rachael and the others. As Nicole stepped through, she looked back for one moment as Admiral Roapes stood there, a broken man.

  “Nicole...”

  Nicole shook her head. “It’s Nikki now.”

  Nikki stepped through the portal and it closed behind her. She was now standing with the others on top of the mesa overlooking the blightlands below. The men and Treesingers standing the defenses looked very surprised to see them all.

  “Who are all these people?” Privet asked, loading another cannonball. The sun glistening off his tanned, rippling back.

  “The first of many,” Queen Forsythia explained dispassionately. “See that they are tended to, I want no harm to come to them.”

  “Yes, my Queen,” one of the Treesingers said as she lead them away.

  “And permit Nikki the use of a prism stream as soon as practicable.”

  “Right away.”

  As they were led away, Queen Forsythia looked up to Setsuna, where she sat on the edge of a rampart, kicking her feet innocently.

  “I thank you for the use of your gates,” the Queen said kindly. “They have been most useful.”

  “No problem,” Setsuna mumbled, a stick of candy in her mouth.

  “I would like to ask you to lend me your skills a while longer. I need more precision than our trees can offer. I want you to use your gates to attach spores to every other ship only.”

  “Why every other ship, lass?” Captain Evere asked as he shoved a quadrant into a cannon muzzel to check its elevation.

  Queen Forsythia turned to look out at the airship fleet. “Because if we infect them all, they will leave.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Privet asked.

  Queen Forsythia slowly shook her head. “No, we want them to stay. Their morale is cracking, we must allow it to break completely.”

  Setsuna pulled the candy out of her mouth and dropped down to the ground, balancing on one toe. “I'll help you, but I have a condition.”

  “What is it?” Queen Forsythia asked detachedly.

  Setsuna pointed a green painted fingernail at Privet. “He has to take me on a date.”

  Privet snickered. “She'd never going to agree to that, don’t you remember how she...”

  “Agreed,” the Queen said coldly.

  “Agreed?” Privet repeated. “Why would you...?”

  “Because the forest requires it,” came the icy response.

  Privet took a step back, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But...you promised that...look, you can’t just agree to a date like this on my behalf.”

  “I believe I just did.”

  “Yay!” Setsuna jumped up and down and waved her arms around happily. “You're gon’ buy me ice cream, and I want to go to the top of one of those tree-city things, and you have to introduce me to your family so they can meet their new daughter-in-law!”

  Privet was almost too stunned to respond. “You changed...I followed you back and you changed...”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  As Spirea slowly came to consciousness, she had the distinct sensation of walking down a hallway. It felt like dying in reverse. Everything she was, every memory, every decision. Everything that had been scattered to the wind had slowly coalesced again, drawing nearer and nearer to each other, until finally all of the diverse parts that made up the sum of who she was began interacting once again.

  Where am I?

  The last thing she could clearly recall was lying on the stone altar in the vaults beneath Thesda. The day she had been dreading all of her life had arrived. The day that the demon inhabiting her grandmother took her as its new host. She had been unmade, her very being torn out whole and replaced with something else. There was no cure. There was no hope. That should have been the end, but here she was.

  Is this the afterlife? Have I been reincarnated?

  Spirea’s eyes were already open. She could not close them. Tapestries and banners printed in a language she did not understand passed by her. Decorative sheets of water trickled down over the stone of the walls, falling into a sump along the baseboard.

  I can’t move my eyes, they are moving without me.

  “Has Lord Hinsekis arrived yet?” Spirea asked, looking over the armored figure before her.

  Who said that?

  “He awaits your beckon, Duchess,” a guard answered as he opened the doors to let her pass.

  Spirea could feel her bare feet touching the cold marble of the royal hall, she could feel the touch of the fine fabrics of her black dress against her skin. She could feel the weight of the silver scepter in her hand, but she could not make her body move.

  It’s like I’m being worn. Something is wearing me like I’m a suit!

  Spirea walked up and arrogantly sat herself down upon the golden throne in the center of the hall. Even through the fabric of her dress the metal surface felt cool. To her right, stood six men. Their clothes were of the finest material, yet their faces were troubled. They bowed with a mixture of fear and admiration. To her left, an oversized pitcher plant, twice as tall as a man. Like a partially opened blossom, it sat facing upwards in its pot, its pitcher filled with digestive juices. Spirea could feel its satisfaction and hunger emanating off of it.

  The doors at the far end swung open. A squad of palace guards wearing black uniforms brought in a pair of bewildered men.

  “Lord Hinsekis, Lord Ewjell, thank for for coming to see me at this late hour.” Spirea smirked.

  “This is an outrage!” Minister Ewjell barked, straightening his robes.

  Minister Hinsekis kept a cooler head. Straightening his dark, oiled hair, he looked around at the other Ministers. “Why are they all here? Is this a cabinet meeting?” he asked.

  Spirea shook her head and accepted a goblet of wine from a cowering servant. “No, this is just between you and me. They are here because they know which side they are on.”

  I know that voice. It’s my grandmother’s voice. So, I’m not dead, this is just her body now, but why am I still here?

  “And why are we here?” Lord Ewjell huffed, his thick mustache twitching back and forth.

  Spirea took her time draining the contents of the goblet.

  I can feel it running down her throat.

  “You are here to make a decision,” Spirea explained. “To decide which side you are on.” To emphasize the point, she tossed the bronze goblet into the air. It fell down inside the pitcher plant, giving off a horrible hissing sound as the digestive juices fizzled the goblet away to nothing.

  “When the Queen hears about this...”

  Spirea stood up before her throne. “The Queen is a peasant!” Her words echoed powerfully though the hall. “When the Queen speaks, everyone checks the law books and judicial records. Do you know why they double check? They verify because those dead pieces of paper mean more to them than her words do. The power to rule over others does not come from some chair or scepter. The divine right to rule is something you must be born with, and she doesn’t have it!”

  I remember hearing my grandmother speak like this before. It always scared me.

  As Spirea looked down on Lord Ewjell and Hinsekis, they visibly withered before her. Her black eyes bore them down to nothing. So overwhelming was her presence that without being bade, they dropped down to one knee before her.

  Spirea smiled cruelly.

  I can feel her excitement. I can feel her satisfaction. It’s being forced into me. I can’t shut it out.

  “You have made your choice,” Spirea announced. “Take your place with the others.”

  The two cowed men rose up and walked towards the other Ministers. “May I ask what happened to Lord Uncan and Acklew?” Lord Hinsekis asked, his voice now deferential.

  Spire
a at back down on the throne. “They made their choice as well.”

  The pitcher plant gave out a rumbling burp.

  The door to the hall opened at the far end. “What’s going on in here, where are the regular guards?” The woman who entered carried a scepter like the one in Spirea’s hand, and a silver crown on her head. In dress, they were nearly copies of one another.

  “All hail Erin Strelan, Queen of Stretis,” Spirea taunted.

  Stretis, is that where we are?

  “What is the meaning of this? Why have the Agnita Kaito been reassigned to posts all over the League?” Queen Strelan demanded.

  Spirea rested her cheek on her hand. “Surely the meaning is plain. The Agnita Kaito were too loyal to you to keep together in one body, but too useful to eliminate.”

  “Guards, get in here!” Queen Strenlan called out, but none came to her aid. She looked around in fear, suddenly looking very small and alone in the middle of the hall. She tried to make eye contact with the Ministers, but they all avoided her gaze.

  “The game is over, Erin. You have lost,” Spirea taunted.

  I’m being controlled. And it is not just my body, either. My heart feels...

  “The people will never...”

  “The people can’t stand you,” Spirea bellowed powerfully, the tapestries flapping as she stood up from her throne. “You are an embarrassment to this people, barely worth a historical footnote.”

  Queen Strelan looked around fearfully. “But the new assault on Wysteria was your plan...”