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The Forgotten Queen

Page 1

by Matt Glicksman




  The Forgotten Queen

  by Matt Glicksman

  Chapter 1

  It was good to finally be home. Prima Mashira sat before the mirror and slowly brushed her long golden hair. She had spent the last five days in Royal Oak, helping the new head archdon maintain order. The city had suffered greatly at the hands of the Devil's demon lord. Every day, Mashira had walked to the edge of the city, redefined by the demon's purge. She stared across the vast emptiness of scorched earth and remembered those who had died on the battlefield. She considered it lucky the demons hadn't attacked again while the city was so vulnerable. In fact, there had been no reported sightings of the demon lord or the giant demon wolves anywhere in the kingdom. They were staying away from the cities, but why?

  A sharp knock came at the door and before Mashira responded, Advisor Razza Merona entered. "Your Luminescence, the king has arrived. We're ready when you are."

  The Prima used the mirror to nod to her advisor. "Thank you, Razza. I'll just be a few more minutes."

  The door closed, and Mashira was alone once again. Her brushing gradually came to a stop, and a sense of familiarity overcame her. She had used this room many times during her tenure as Prima, but there had been only one other time when she stood before this many people. Much had changed. A different king sat on the throne. Sixteen years had passed, and yet she barely looked a day older, thanks to the Talisman of Zavi. It was only when she had relinquished the artifact to Batar that she had begun to age again. And though Batar now appeared to be as old as Mashira, he had been just a boy back then. She closed her eyes and relived the day of her Illumination ceremony.

  "Don Mashira, King Cato and the royal family have arrived. We're ready when you are."

  The young priest smiled in the mirror at the messenger. "Thank you, I believe we're almost done, right?"

  "Yes, Don," said the woman styling her hair. "Just a few more minutes."

  After the messenger left, Mashira glanced at her brother sitting off to the side. "What?"

  "I was thinking that was probably the last time anyone will refer to you as 'Don.'" Archdon Mortis was seven years older than his sister and had looked after her for much of her life.

  "I still can't believe it."

  "Well, no one can say you don't deserve it. Primus Ayristark and his advisors were pretty relentless with testing all the candidates, and you came out on top. I couldn't be prouder of you. Mom and Dad would be too."

  "Thanks." Mashira's heart throbbed. "I wish they were here to see it."

  Mortis approached his sister and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I know. I miss them too. And who knows? Maybe they are watching, wherever they are."

  "I'd like to think so."

  It had been nearly thirteen years since their parents had been attacked on the road to North Refuge. And though their murders had never been solved, Mashira believed the Brotherhood was responsible.

  "All done," the hairstylist said.

  Mashira admired the ornate braids. "It's beautiful."

  "You certainly are." Mortis clasped his hands. "I guess that's my cue. I better take my place. See you out there. Good luck."

  "Thanks." As her brother departed, Mashira's eyes fell to her gleaming white robe, a stark contrast to the brown one she had grown accustomed to wearing. In a matter of minutes, she would be standing before thousands of people and accepting one of the most powerful titles in the kingdom. There was so much to absorb, and she didn't want to forget a moment of it. She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

  Mashira exited the room. Two guardians escorted her down the long corridor toward the main hall of the Sanctuary, the rectory in Light's Haven. The rectory's massive size was a testament to the influence held by the priest guild. Mashira waited patiently at the entrance to the main hall and watched as Primus Ayristark addressed the audience.

  "My fellow citizens, I welcome you to this most glorious occasion. As is tradition within Candelux, the title of Primus or Prima is passed on every twenty years. I know I speak for my advisors as well when I say it has been an honor serving the people of this fine kingdom these past two decades. We are winning this war against the demons. While Verago hides in the Depths, his minions are vanquished on the Surface. It's been years since any real threat has emerged. Even the greater iymed are scattered and afraid to fight us. And that is why it was so important for us, the Council, to select the best candidate to take over as the leader of Candelux. I now call forward Don Mashira."

  The audience was silent as Mashira crossed the floor. The walk seemed to take forever. Was the main hall always this large? She tried to steady her breathing as her heart attempted to break free. When she reached the Primus, she knelt before him.

  Ayristark smiled. "Don Mashira, you are called here today to partake in the most sacred of our ceremonies. We, the Council, have determined that your wisdom, determination, and bravery will make you an excellent Prima. By accepting this role and participating in this ceremony, you are becoming part of a noble tradition. You are accepting the leadership of this guild and the responsibility to defend and provide aid to the people of this kingdom. You are accepting the power to decide the fate of this guild and those within it. And most importantly, you are dedicating your life to seeking out and destroying Verago. Do you understand all that I've said and accept the role of Prima?"

  "I do," she answered forcefully, and her voice echoed throughout the hall.

  "Please, extend your dominant hand."

  Mashira held out her right hand. Ayristark removed the Talisman of Zavi from around his neck. The four-pointed star glowed as he placed it in her palm and covered it with his hand. As Ayristark closed his eyes, the light of the star shone brightly and forced Mashira to close her eyes as well.

  A soothing warmth engulfed her hand, spiraled down her arm, and reached her heart. Suddenly, her hand felt as if it were being held over an open flame. Mashira winced as the burning sensation followed the same path down her arm and past her shoulder. It spread like an untamed fire across her chest and up her neck. Her mind wanted to scream as the energy invaded her thoughts, but her body wouldn't allow it. Eventually, she lost all sense of the world around her. The pain, the anxiety, it all vanished. She was at peace within her own mind. Air filled her lungs, and she calmly exhaled.

  A single voice brought her back. "And by the power of the angels, I conclude this Blessing of Illumination."

  Mashira opened her eyes to see the glow of the Talisman fade away.

  Ayristark gripped the red scarf draped over his white robe. He lifted it over his head and placed it on Mashira's shoulders. "It is with great pleasure that I present Her Luminescence, Prima Mashira."

  The new Prima got to her feet and hung the Talisman around her neck. She had never felt so much power coursing through her body. As she faced the public, the audience erupted in applause. Her eyes were drawn to the royal family in the front row: King Cato, Queen Zenda, the two teenage princes—Altheus and Batar—and nine-year-old Princess Sereyna.

  Ayristark came alongside Mashira. "Over the next month, you'll have the opportunity to select your advisors. As you know, it's tradition that an invitation is extended to the exiting Primus or Prima to join the new Council. It is by no means a requirement, but I would be honored if you chose to continue that tradition. Until that time, the current Council will offer its assistance to you in any way you deem necessary."

  Mashira grinned. "Thank you."

  Ayristark stepped aside and invited the new Prima to take her rightful place on the Candelux throne. But before she could move, shouts came from the entrance of the great hall. The applause died down, and the words became clear.

  "Out of the way! We must see the Primus immediately!"

 
Murmurs rippled through the audience as the crowd divided in half and allowed the new arrivals through. The man leading the small group was large and muscular. The scars on his arms and torso were proof he was no stranger to battle. His white beard and long hair tied into a tail revealed his age, but not his strength. A massive double-sided ax rested on his shoulders. Sir Jak, Champion of the Light and guild master of the Paladin Order, offered a quick bow, and when he spoke, his deep voice resounded within the main hall of the Sanctuary. "Primus Ayristark, I humbly apologize for the interruption, but your attention is required immediately."

  Ayristark tightened his lips and looked to the Prima.

  Mashira realized he was respecting her new authority and motioned for him to address the leader of the Paladin Order.

  Ayristark cleared his throat. "Sir Jak, I'm afraid you just missed the Illumination ceremony. As you can see, Prima Mashira wears the Talisman. I suggest you address whatever your concerns may be to Her Luminescence."

  The aged paladin leader scowled. "My apologies, Your Luminescence." He knelt and lowered his weapon to the floor. His regiment did the same.

  Mashira stepped forward. "It's all right. That's not necessary. Please, tell us what requires attention so urgently."

  Jak stood. "Darkness is approaching the city. I've felt it, as have many of my bloodseekers. An enormous demon army is descending upon us from all directions."

  "How long before they reach our gates?"

  "Difficult to say. A few hours, maybe. We believe some of the auras are being masked, but something large is coming. We've been receiving reports of demon movement toward Light's Haven. Last known sightings for the greater iymed, at least the ones we can detect, follow the same pattern. This will be the largest gathering of demons we've ever witnessed."

  Mashira was silent as panic set in. She wasn't even one minute into her potential twenty-year term, and she already had to deal with what sounded like the greatest threat the kingdom had ever known. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted King Cato rise from his chair.

  "Sir Jak. Prima Mashira. I suggest we adjourn to Thoris Castle after the ceremony. There with the Summa Arcana leaders, we can form a plan for the battle ahead."

  "Of course, Your Majesty," Mashira said.

  "Agreed, but if you'll forgive me for saying so, we should end this ceremony and go immediately," Jak added.

  "It's still morning. Demons always wait until nightfall to attack." No sooner had the words left her mouth than Mashira had felt a pit in her stomach. Behind the battle-hardened face of the paladin guild master, she had spotted something unexpected in his eyes: fear.

  "With the army that's coming," Jak had explained, "they won't have to wait until nightfall."

  Mashira opened her eyes and studied her reflection. She had been challenged from the first day she wore the red scarf. What had started as a joyous occasion sixteen years ago had turned into the worst attack in the history of the demon conflict. But in spite of all those who were lost that day, the humans had persevered. And they would do the same against the demon lord, Erynion.

  There were three rapid knocks at the door, and Razza Merona burst into the room.

  Mashira stood up. "I know, I know. I'm coming."

  "It's not that." Razza's smile was ear to ear.

  "What is it then?"

  "You won't believe who just walked into the Sanctuary."

  Chapter 2

  At the edge of the woods, the demon lord observed Light's Haven from a safe distance. On the other side of those walls resided King Batar, his brother and sole purpose for being on the Surface. Only by killing Batar could Erynion return to his human life and his family. For the last five days, the demon lord had held Don Millan, a Candelux priest, as a prisoner. The brown robe and black scarf had become a familiar sight. However, the time had come for the next step in their arrangement, and so the priest had entered the city some time ago.

  As he withdrew into the forest, Erynion rippled his shoulders to adjust the chains wrapped around his body. The restraints, which the priest had toiled over during captivity, glowed softly. They had no effect on the demon lord until dusk. Erynion examined his hands. They appeared human, as they normally did while the sun was up. He growled, noting the missing fingers he had lost during the battle at Royal Oak. But with the priest gone, the demon lord could finally figure out how to regenerate.

  "Nogizi?" asked a voice from the treetops.

  "Yes, it's safe to come out," Erynion answered in Kisejjad, the demon language.

  Flinch dropped to the ground and walked alongside the demon lord. "Thank the Devil. I don't know if I could've gone much longer without killing him."

  "Well, I appreciate your restraint. I know it must've been hard on you."

  "Yeah." The jester iymed scratched his head, missing his precious hat with bells. "I still don't understand why you let him go."

  "We've been over this. Keeping these chains lit is the highest priority, at least until I learn how to control my power. And according to Millan, Archdon Feranis can give me a much stronger enchantment. Now, he just needs to convince his superiors this course of action is in their best interest."

  "Why don't we just stroll up to Nolka and demand the archdon does it? Or else."

  "Some people don't respond well to threats. I'd like to avoid another fight, if possible. I need to learn my spells."

  "And what happens if Millan can't convince his superiors?" Flinch asked.

  Erynion snorted. "Then I suppose we'll have to stroll up to Nolka and demand the archdon does it."

  As the pair hiked through the forest together, the demon lord inspected his clothing. He still wore the bloodstained pants and the altered nightgown he received as a gift on his first night. He could only see out of his left eye due to the white cloth wrapped around his head. Ever since Prima Mashira had gazed into his Devil's Eye on the shore of Lake Ivorus, he thought it prudent to keep the eye covered. While Erynion's clothes were quite plain, Flinch's were made up of vibrant colors. His tattered purple-and-yellow shirt swayed in the breeze. The jester was also considerably shorter than the demon lord. The top of his head barely reached Erynion's ribs.

  Flinch gazed up at the demon lord. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Is this about Millan again?"

  "Maybe. I'm just curious. Hypothetically, let's say his enchantment was strong enough, and you didn't need the help from that archdon. You would’ve let me kill him, right?"

  Erynion sighed. "Look, I know you blame him for what happened to Sonojj, but—"

  "'But'? There's no 'but.' You didn't see what that monster did. You should've let me put that clown in brown in the ground."

  "You know why I had to let him go."

  "Yeah, but…but…" Flinch growled. "I'm going to get him one day, so help me Verago."

  "Calm yourself. He's just one priest. Don't you think you're a little obsessed?"

  "You make it sound like it’s unusual for a demon to kill a human. They're our enemy, after all."

  "Your enemy, perhaps," the demon lord said. "I have nothing against humanity."

  "You do realize that priest was trying to kill you at Royal Oak, right?"

  "It’s not the same. That's his purpose, and rightly so. As for me, there's only one person who needs to die by my hand."

  "Ah, yes, Batar." Flinch chuckled. "The clown with the crown who rules the towns."

  "What? So, now everyone's a clown?"

  "More or less, if it rhymes."

  "What about you?"

  "That's easy. I'm the most renowned clown around, obviously."

  "Hmph. What about me?"

  Flinch stroked his chin. "Hmm. I guess you'd be the clown with the frown hunting your brother down."

  The demon lord halted. His true identity was supposed to be a closely guarded secret. It was the key to his strength. He racked his brain to figure out how the jester knew. "That's right. I told you at the lake, didn't I? And if you know I'm Batar's brother, then you kno
w my identity."

  "I do." Flinch stepped forward and bowed. "I am at your service, Prince Altheus."

  Erynion groaned. "You are never to speak that name again, nor mention Batar is my brother. Altheus is who I was. Erynion is who I am now."

  "You’ll have no trouble from me."

  As the pair resumed their journey, Erynion changed the subject. "So, where are the Denhauli? I noticed they didn’t stick around after the first night."

  "Yeah, they're not too keen on hanging around with priests. Something about them being demons, and priests out to kill demons. I'm not really too sure."

  "Hilarious," Erynion said dryly. "I thought Verago sent them to be my protectors."

  "Well, sure. That's why they're scouting the area between here and Nolka to make sure it's safe. They ordered me to stay with you in case the priest tried anything funny. I believe Ojjuk's exact words were, 'If anything happens to Erynion, we'll rip you to shreds.' Or was it 'shred you to pieces'?"

  "Ojjuk's the black wolf, right? Male voice?"

  Flinch nodded. "Kind of a jerk. Eyzora's much nicer."

  "It's strange hearing their voices in my head. So disorienting. Does it bother you?"

  "Not really. You'll get used to it."

  "I wanted to ask before they ran off but never got the chance. Why can't they speak like the rest of us?" the demon lord asked.

  "Well, because they're animals. Their mouths and tongues can't form the words. Even shape-shifters can't speak in their animal forms."

  "But they're not shape-shifters. They're actual wolves?"

  "Yup," Flinch said.

  "How odd. I've never heard of demon animals."

  "Probably because they're the only ones that exist. And if I'm not mistaken, they're likely the only ones that will ever exist."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Sonojj told me about them long before you came to the Surface. He overheard Serey—" Flinch sharply sucked in air, as if he were trying to reclaim his words.

  Erynion clenched his jaw. The Seductress had killed his sister, Sereyna, and stolen her name for the last sixteen years. What sort of vile creature murders an innocent nine-year-old girl? The demon lord shuddered as he considered how close the Seductress had come to enslaving him just a week ago. But instead, he had crushed her throat and returned her to the Depths. She wouldn't be bothering him anytime soon.

 

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