Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  The Queen nodded. “Trust me, there will be celebrations, but first we must take the time to heal and honor those who have passed. Their spirits may have rejoined the Great Mother, but that does not make us miss them any less.”

  “Of course, my Queen,” she agreed as she turned to walk away.

  When the living wood closed behind her, the throne room was empty except for Alder and Bunni, both of them looking resplendent in their palace formal wear.

  “My Queen,” Alder stated formally between fits of coughing. His face was pale and weak, but his eyes were full of relief. “Our advanced scouts confirm that the Navy has completely left Wysterian airspace. Already we are beginning to set up diplomatic connections with the islands that have pledged to join us. Their airships will be arriving within the week to help us protect and patrol our own airspace and keep it safe.”

  “Thank you for the report,” Queen Forsythia said icily.

  Alder bowed and turned away. Bunni curtsied and scampered off after him. As he reached the door, Alder was surprised when he heard the clatter of wood. He turned around and saw the Queen’s staff lying on the ground. Her face was fallen into her hands, and she was sobbing quietly to herself.

  Alder looked around, making sure they were alone. “Athi, what is wrong?” he asked as he came closer. “This is a joyous occasion. Your leadership saved the forest. Now we can begin preparations to stop the Stone Council and remove the curse on the seas.”

  “Don’t you see?” Athel cried. “I don’t want to be an expert at manipulating people. I don’t want to be skilled at sophistry. A butcher of hearts, a master of pain, who would want to have such talents?”

  Bunni scooted closer, her held tilted, trying to understand. Alder knelt before her and took her hands in his. “But, Athi, who have you ever...”

  “Everyone!” Athel screamed. “My mother and I, it was our plan from the beginning,” Athel sobbed. “We knew the war could not be won through battle, it was instantly obvious to both of us. We knew we would have to turn the hearts of the people in the League against The Stone Council. That’s why we robbed the treasury, because we knew it would force the Stone Council to be cruel in order to replace the losses. That is why we infected the Navy with a plague, because we knew it would force The Stone Council to be heartless towards them. The whole point was to enrage the people enough towards their leaders to change sides.”

  Athel looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks. “All the while, we played the role of the saint, she and I. Being kind and merciful at every opportunity, but it was all a ruse. We caused the suffering to begin with, it is our fault...it is...my fault.”

  Alder stood up and took her in his arms. Her frame shook and trembled as though it would shatter. “Athi, a cruel person would not shed tears like this. The fact that you care so much, even for your enemies, is proof of the strength of your heart.”

  Athel wept again. “Even after my mother collapsed, I carried on the plan. I knew exactly what to do, because I am just like her. Do you know how angry that makes me? I am exactly like she is. And it is my fault. I let them do this. I let them hammer away at me until I became this pathetic little copy of her.”

  “You did what was right,” Alder affirmed.

  Athel looked at her hands hatefully. “Every time I look into the mirror all I see is her looking back at me! Her!”

  Athel tore off her circlet and threw it to the ground. “That face in the mirror! Her face. I can’t stand it!”

  Athel wrenched at her braids, trying to yank them out. “I hate this, I hate myself! All of it!”

  Athel yanked and pulled on her hair, screaming at loud as she could. The sound seemed to rattle the very roots of the forest. She screamed so loud and long her voice became hoarse. Finally she slumped forward, numb with pain. Tears smeared her makeup, her braids were frayed and knotted. Snot dribbled pitifully from her nose. She whimpered quietly as she breathed, her mighty heart broken.

  Alder cried as well, out of sympathy. He took out his handkerchief and cleaned up her face. “Athi, you did what a great leader does, what all truly good leaders do. You minimized death and suffering wherever you could. There were so many times when you could have chosen an easier path, a path that would have killed so many more people. But, you never did, you always refused it and looked for another way. And now, thanks to you, so many of those men and women who were our enemies are now our allies. What you did is remarkable; I only wish you could see that.”

  Athel raised her trembling hands and looked at them. “You don’t understand. I know what it feels like when a people suffer. I have felt every ounce of pain through the link since I took the throne. All those sick Wysterians out there right now, I can feel it as if it were happening to me personally. I feel eighty-two thousand one-hundred and seventy five sick and suffering bodies simultaneously, and it is all my fault. They are sick from those spores because of me. I did this to them! Even the Navy people, I can feel their pain through the trees. I caused it all. Me, I did this. I've become a monster.”

  Athel leaned forward and fell on Alder’s shoulder, sniveling.

  “But that is not all you feel, right?” Alder said, running his hand over her head. “You also feel their gratitude, their esteem for you, their relief that the forest was saved. You feel their trust in your decisions, and their willingness to follow you.”

  Athel sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I know what you are saying, and I understand it here,” she said, tapping on her temple. “But, it still hurts here,” she said, tapping on her heart. “It hurts so bad I feel like I could die from it.”

  Slowly, Bunni inched forward and tugged furtively on the hem of Athel’s royal gown. “I like you,” Bunni said sweetly.

  Athel laughed out loud, sniffed, then laughed again.

  “Thanks Bunni,” she said, wiping tears from her face.

  From outside the hall there was a heavy banging sound, as if something metal was being beaten against it. The wood gave way, and Privet fell down into the room holding a sledgehammer.

  “What are you guys doing in here?” he asked as he came to his feet. “No one could open the door.”

  Queen Forsythia squeaked in embarrassment and tried to compose herself, wiping her face and straightening her braids as best she could.

  “Really, you must knock before entering the throne room,” Alder scolded as he snatched up her circlet and brought it back over.

  “May I ask what you are doing in here?” Queen Athel asked, smoothing out her gown and trying to sound as dignified as she could.

  Privet rolled his eyes. “Pick up your staff, you dummy. The whole forest is alive with it. Deutzia is having your baby!”

  Athel and Alder rode the palace stallions as fast as they could, out to the edge of the forest where the blighted land began, the spot where Deutzia was planted.

  Already, a small group of men and woman had gathered to witness the event. Through the trees, Queen Forsythia could sense the entire island listening in, bubbling with excitement.

  It felt right to everyone, in a poetic kind of way, that the first daughter born after the end of the conflict would be the Queen’s. As Queen Forsythia gracefully lowered herself off her stallion, a gate opened up within the crowd and the crew of the Dreadnaught joined the audience.

  Just in time.

  They all joined the procession just as the High Priestess began the ceremony.

  Does this daughter have a mother?” the High Priestess asked.

  “She does,” Queen Forsythia answered as she stepped forward, her powerful voice carrying across the crowd.

  “Does this daughter have a father?” the High Priestess asked.

  “She does,” Alder answered as he stepped forward, his voice trembling and weak.

  “Does this daughter have Maar'i ota'a ann'i?”

  “Yes, Mina Duvare, and Allister Evere,” Queen Forsythia announced.

  Captain Evere and Mina looked around nervously as they were escorted up
to the front of the procession. The crowd placed their hands over their hearts and bowed.

  “Is it just me, or is everyone acting like they know us?” Captain Evere whispered.

  “What is that?” Mina asked quietly.

  “Maar'i ota'a ann'i, or spirit parents,” Alder translated. “Responsible for nurture and upbringing.”

  “You will help us raise the child as if it were your own,” Queen Athel explained. “Expect to do a lot of babysitting.”

  “Oh, that is so sweet!” Mina placed her hands over her heart, her lavender eyes filling with tears.

  “And you think they rest of them will be okay with this?” Captain Evere asked, looking around.

  “They know what you have done for me,” Queen Athel assured him.

  With the four parents present, Deutzia lowered her branch, presenting the ripened fruit to them. Alder prepared with silken swaddling cloth and fresh spring water.

  “What will be the first given name to this firstborn daughter of the forest?” the High Priestess asked, her voice carried on the wind.

  “Arolla,” Queen Forsythia answered.

  “Will there be a second name?”

  “There will.”

  “And what will be the second given name to this firstborn daughter of the forest?”

  “Cherxie-Diryl,” Queen Forsythia answered, the faintest smile crossing her lips.

  “Then join us, daughter of the forest, Arolla Cherxie-Diryl Forsythia, firstborn of the Queen, and heir to the throne.”

  The thick rind of the fruit split open and a wave of joy passed through the forest for all to experience. Even Mina and Captain Evere felt it pass over them. Alder began his part of the ceremony, but he was having some difficulty separating the layers of membranes that protected the baby. His hands were shaking. At first Athel assumed it was nerves, because she was also so nervous she could scarcely breathe, but then she realized it was something else.

  Is he feeling all right?

  Peeling back the final layer, Alder reached within and first pulled out the large seed that would grow into their daughter’s Ma’iltri’ia. Athel and Deutzia shared a glance and smiled to each other.

  Next, Alder reached in and with unbelievable gentleness, removed a small, wriggling newborn, placing her in Athel’s waiting arms as he began to clean her off and purify her with spring water.

  Looking into the perfect little face, Athel could not believe how much she loved this baby. Her whole world changed in an instant. In a way, she had only just met this person, and yet she loved her completely, effortlessly, with every particle of her being. Athel’s heart felt like singing out for joy, so much so that she was having difficulty keeping her face calm and distinguished.

  Then the cold reality came over Athel, and it nearly made her drop the baby. If Wysteria was to survive, it would need a Queen, and while Athel was still very young, she would not live forever. Someday, someone would have to replace her, and that person would need to be prepared to take on the mantle. The simple logic of it made her feel as if she were being strangled. She tried to breathe, but her body would not obey.

  Her daughter would have to be groomed, educated, trained. Everything that had been inflicted on Athel, she would have to inflict upon her daughter, for the good of the forest, for the survival of their people. It was the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

  Her heart, which had been so full of joy, now felt like breaking. She realized that while she loved their perfect little daughter with all her heart, this tiny person would one day grow up to resent and hate and despise her as much as Athel had resented and hated and despised her own mother.

  Athel drew the child in close to her, nuzzling it against her bosom.

  I love you, but one day you will grow to hate me, and you will be right to do so. I am so sorry, Arolla. I am so sorry.

  Alder finished cleaning the child and Athel swallowed her feelings as best she could, trying not to make a scene or let her conflict spread into the forest. Breaking decorum, she reached around Alder’s waist and drew him in close so the three of them could embrace as a family.

  I just want a moment, while it is still pure. Before it is sullied by reality. Before necessity and duty make this an ugly thing. Please let me have that. Please, I beg you, Milia.

  Mina and Captain Evere joined them, and they all embraced together. For the first time in her reign, Athel cried without tears. Those looking on saw only the Queen’s regal dignity.

  “Um,” Alder began, obviously trying to point out the break in ceremony. Athel ignored the rebuke and hugged him and her daughter even tighter.

  “Athi,” Adler wheezed again.

  Athel slowly released him. “What is it?”

  Alder pointed down.

  Athel looked the child over, and her eyes grew wide.

  It’s a boy?!

  Epilogue

  It’s a terrible thing to have a dream, Dev’in thought to himself as he sloshed through the shallow pool of black shakes, his skin bubbling where it touched the unholy ichor. He held up his torch to a large crystal. Entombed within the glassy surface was a lizard-skinned Tirrakian, a look of terror on his scaly face.

  “The island of Tirrak, they are the masters of light.” Dev'in said softly in a hoarse voice as he walked on.

  It alters who you are, changes you into something you weren’t before,he thought, holding up his torch to the next crystal. Inside, was a horrified woman in long robes, frozen in place.

  “The island of Madaringa, masters of time bending, but even they cannot reverse it.”

  Makes you do things you never thought you'd ever do, makes you say things you never thought you'd say,he thought, moving onto the next crystal. A thick-skinned man with a shell for a back stared back from within.

  “Chidd, masters of illusion.”

  After a time you look in the mirror, and you don’t even recognize what you see anymore,he thought, tapping his torch against the next crystal. The long spider-like limbs of the man trapped within did not move in the slightest.

  “Kirdish, masters of fear.”

  To have a dream, is to be alone,he thought, running his fingers along the surface of the new crystal, which contained a terrified Treesinger within.

  “Wysteria, masters of plant life.”

  In the end you wish you never had the dream to begin with, so as to be spared your grief.

  Dev’in raised his torch, illuminating the enormous ring of crystals that followed the edge of the pit.

  “Seventy-eight in all, and when combined using the magic of the void, you restore the light of creation that was shattered so long ago,” he said to himself. He glanced over to an empty spot in the circle.

  But I am not doing this for myself.

  “It won’t be long now, my love,” he cackled as he moved over towards her. He splashed over to the center of the pit, where a stone chair sat in the tar, a woman resting idly in it. “You look so beautiful, my love,” he praised as he reached out his hand and ran his fingers through her hair. “We have all the sacrifices we need. You and I will be together forever.”

  Blair stepped out from behind a crystal. He took a moment to scratch his sharp nose. “But Father, Wysteria lives, the Federal Navy is a shadow of its former self, and fully a third of the League has betrayed us to join the Wysterian Alliance.”

  Dev'in nodded and stroked her hair again with the back of his hand. “Yes, it seems I have an opponent far more dangerous than I had anticipated. She and I played an enormous gamble this year, with the fate of the world in the balance. We wagered everything on two key moves. I wagered that using an iron fist to force the islands to pay the emergency taxes would cow them into submission, while she wagered that it would stoke the fires of revolution. I bet that the plague inflicted on our soldiers would inspire them to take out their anger on the people of Wysteria, while she bet that the additional suffering would break their morale and encourage them to switch sides.


  “In both cases, I gambled big and lost. She gambled big and won.”

  Blair smiled. “But luck is no longer a factor in this fight, is it?”

  Dev'in shook his head slowly. “The rubric on the ocean waters is nearly complete. My Stonemasters will be able to control the waters of the sea as the water tribe was able to in ages past. All we need now are enough souls to power the ceremony. Then at last, we will take back the power of creation from the gods, and we will use it to make a new world. A world without hate, a world without conflict. A world of peace.” Dev’in reached out to the stone throne and stroked her hair again. “A world for us, my love.”

  The door at the far end of the room flung open. Marc hopped in, his bright feathers ruffled, his beak grinding in frustration. “I just received word, our ziggurat at Iso is gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  Marc flicked his wings. “I mean gone, destroyed. The stockpiles, the crucibles, everything.”

  “Who could have done this?” Dev'in whispered, his torch falling out of his hands.

  “Who even knew it was there?” Blair added.

  Dev'in clenched his fists, his long nails digging into the palms of his hands. Drops of black blood dripped into the tar below him, sizzling as they hit the surface.

  “Decades of work...gone,” Marc said, devastated.

  “We'd practically be starting from scratch,” Blair appraised, sticking his fingers into the shallow layer of tar.

  Dev'in waved his hand and some of the black shakes was pulled up by unseen hands, forming itself into a prism stream. The device flickered to life, and an image appeared of a raven-haired woman reclining upon a throne, absentmindedly fingering the necklace that hung around her neck.

  “I have a new assignment for you,” Dev'in roared, black spittle falling from his lips. “I want you to kill Athel Forsythia!”

  Spirea’s eyes lit up, and a wicked smile crossed her lips.

  To Be Continued in Isle of Wysteria: The Lost City...

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