by Paris Hansch
Mina
Eleven years ago — Year 2150 of the Fey Dynasty
Mina swung her open palm, sending an onslaught of water in her cousin’s face. “Take that!” she cried.
Yukiya grinned, returning the favor. His striking white hair was plastered against his cheeks and down his back, his sky-blue eyes glistening in the moonlight. They stood knee-deep in the great lake, poised to attack. His older brother, Yuno, stood with his arms folded on the banks.
“Princess, you shouldn’t be playing around in the lake!”
Mina stuck her tongue out at him. He always acted so high and mighty.
Her father, Emperor Masaru, came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Yuno turned with a start. She looked at them together. He wasn’t Yuno’s father, but they looked shockingly similar.
“Your Highness—”
“Let them be young, lord.” Her father smiled, patting his head. “What have you done to your hair?”
Yuno scrunched his face, looking away. His locks, once long like his brother’s and every male descendant before him, were now jagged and short, sticking close to his head.
“Cut it.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Mina flicked water at them both, giggling as Yuno flinched. “I said it didn’t suit him like it does Yukiya. His face is too stern. But it looks better now, doesn’t it, Papa?”
Her father frowned, leaning toward him. “The men of the imperial Fey family have always kept their hair long. You should take more pride in your family inheritance.”
Yuno glanced at Mina, his eyes lingering for a moment too long. “I do.”
“Now, go play while you can.” Her father gave him a little push into the water as he left. Yuno grimaced, peeling off his now wet slippers and tossing them away.
Mina rolled her eyes, tightening the belt of her soaked robes.
“Afraid of a little water?”
He tilted his chin upward and strode into the water, stopping in front of her.
“No.”
She splashed him. “Then, you’re it!”
The three of them chased each other around in circles, laughing until they ran out of breath. Then, the two boys held out their hands to her as she leaned, panting, against her knees.
“That’s quite enough. Come, I’ll walk you to your room,” said Yuno.
Yukiya shook his head. “But the stars are out now. Come dance with me.”
Mina glanced between the two of them. They couldn’t be any more different from each other. Yuno, the arrogant firstborn, and Yukiya, the gentle second. But the only reason they associated with each other was because of her—and her status. She didn’t want to cause a rift between them, yet she was the only reason they stayed together.
Mina peered into the water, adjusting her golden circlet, the intricate details dangling through her hair. Although she was only young, this was the first truth she had been taught. As the last heir of the original bloodline, she must marry one of the males from the branch family that would inherit her father’s dragon spirit. She was lucky that it was only the two of them; her ancestors had had dozens of potential suitors. Not that she had any choice in the matter. The dragon would choose.
“I’m not ready to sleep yet,” she said, putting her hand in Yukiya’s. She was led through the water before his brother could protest, and Yukiya settled his arm around her waist. He spun her in the shallows with ease, and her leg swept a graceful arc of water through the air. The stars reflected on the surface, the pinpricks of light creating a beautiful stage.
“Can you hear it?” whispered Yukiya, gazing at her. There was no music, but the rhythm was engraved in their spirits.
The Aria of the Gods.
Mina smiled. “Yes.”
Then, a distant scream caught their attention, followed quickly by another, this time much closer. Yukiya pulled her close. Attendants ran toward the sound, sending the imperial gardens into an immediate uproar.
Mina was knocked off her feet, the sudden impact stealing her breath, and Yukiya hit the water beside her. She clawed at her chest as the pain burned its way through. Her mouth opened, but the water muffled her scream as the surface drifted farther away.
Darkness.
Mina clutched her head as another wave of pain racked her body. She was suddenly in her mother’s body, driving a blade through her stomach and dragging it upward. The weight of the golden bracelets encircling her wrists grew unbearably heavy. Her chest was tight, despair suffocating her being. Through her blurry vision, she saw her husband run through the imperial gardens, unable to reach her before he, too, collapsed. Spirits tore at them, the searing heat severing the bonds. Then, freedom at last.
Then, she saw herself as her grandmother, staring at the blood that pooled in her hands from the arrow in her chest. Acceptance flooded through her as she died. Then, she was her mother before that. And before that. And so on.
The scenes flickered further and further back, imbedding themselves into her young mind. The memories of all of those before her, bound together by blood and spirit.
A great war, the massacre. A deep satisfaction. Eyes that burned through her, searching for what was no longer hers to give. A jealous, twisted desire that had been festering since the dawn of time. A silvery tongue, echoing three words over and over.
Is it you?
Then, silence. Everything fell into place. Her mind was still, her spirit in slumber at the beginning of time. Awakened. Her tail wrapped against another, and she rose her massive head with her teeth bared. The ritual couldn’t be stopped, but she ran alongside him. A desperate roar. Heartbeats synced, eternally joined.
Dawn had broken.
Mina was dragged onto dry land, and she coughed violently. The world refocused around her. It was the same as she had left it but, somehow, entirely different. There was so much more.
Yuno caught his breath beside her, his arm on hers. His lips moved, but she didn’t hear him. Her eyes were drawn to the figure on the other side of him. Yukiya sat up as she did, his mouth slightly agape.
She moved to a crouch, her muscles bunched. A sudden rage simmered to the surface, almost clouding her vision.
End this now.
Ethereal talons extended from Mina’s hands, and she lunged for Yukiya. She didn’t want to. But she had to.
She was thrown sideways as a heavy form barreled into her, but her talons still met flesh. Blood blossomed above her, dripping onto her cheek. She blinked, and the pounding in her ears subsided after a few moments.
“Kakeru?”
Her mentor grimaced, still pinning her to the ground. She pushed against him, and Kakeru was tossed across the garden like a ragdoll. Mina stared at her hands.
Yuno stood between her and his brother, shaking him by the collar. “What did you do? Get out of here already!”
Kakeru rolled to his feet, cradling his stomach. “That’s no way to talk to your new prince.”
Yuno pointed at his brother. “Prince? Him? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m—”
“He was chosen, not you.”
Yuno didn’t respond as the attendants rushed to the scene. They attempted to usher Yukiya away, but he brushed them away, kneeling beside Kakeru and placing his hands over the wound. A surge of light pulsed from his palm, and the skin closed over almost instantly, leaving behind only a few faint scars.
Yukiya smiled. “I’m afraid this is the only thing I can fix for you, old friend.”
As Yukiya was led away, Mina could only stare at their retreating figures. Everything fell into sharp focus. The scratch in the wooden roofing beam, the soft sound of a petal falling to the ground, the metallic smell of blood. Spirit lights glowed all around her, the mark of the living—and those that weren’t quite alive. The rough earth between her fingertips, the cool air caressing her skin, the fire dancing in the torches, the still water behind her—she was home.
A voice pulled her attention back to the people around her. “My lord—”
“I told you, I’m fine,” said Yuno, his voice eerily calm. His young servant, Lyra, had her head bowed before him. He pushed her out of the way and pulled Mina to her feet.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Mina drew her shoulders back, yanking her hand from his. The force pulled him face-first into the ground, and Lyra was quickly by his side. Ignoring him, Mina neared her mentor, who was tenderly touching his newly formed scars.
“I’m sorry.”
Kakeru shook his head. “It’s not your fault. Are you…” He pitied her; she could see it plastered across his face.
Mina turned away. “Yes. It’s still me.”
“You… should go see your father,” he said. “Tell him why—”
“No.” Her voice held a resounding finality. Her father still had traces of his presence still lingering within him. The one she was forced to despise.
Kakeru followed, stopping in front of her. “You know he’ll only last a few months at most, now that… the successors are chosen.”
“I know.”
It was just like every other time. The death of one was the death of the other. And now, her life was bound in the same way—to Yukiya.
“I don’t want you to lose them both,” said Kakeru.
Mina moved around him. “That was my mother’s decision.” She had been weak, unable to wait to pass on the curse until her only daughter could grow up. Selfish enough to choose freedom for herself through death, condemning those who she claimed to love to this. A life of shackles.
“And a poor decision, that, but you could at least—”
She whirled around. “What’s done cannot be undone. If anyone should see him, it should be you.”
Kakeru’s footsteps halted as he stopped following her. The servants knelt as she passed, her presence bringing them to their knees. The wooden flooring cracked behind her.
No one approached her. Not now.
The cycle began again, but she would make sure that this was the end.
As the months passed, Emperor Masaru locked himself in his room, unable to leave his bed. Mina didn’t visit, but she knew that her father’s sky-blue eyes would soon fade to a milky gray, sunken in their sockets. His hair would recede, the brittle white strands giving him the appearance of age well beyond his actual years. His human spirit would leave him soon, just as the dragon’s had—she could feel it.
It was probably the last opportunity she would have with him, if only she could stomach his presence. Even though only faint whispers of the dragon spirit remained, he felt too much like the prince. Mina shuddered as she wandered by his room, waving away the guards and leaning against the heavy door. There was someone with him.
Kakeru’s low voice echoed, their conversation inaudible to anyone but her. “Why have you summoned me now, after so many years?” It was strained.
“My daughter won’t see me… but she trusts you,” her father replied, the words crawling out of his throat with great effort.
“Do you trust me, Your Highness?”
“I wouldn’t have summoned you otherwise.”
A dull thump. “What did I do wrong? You said you valued our friendship. I thought…”
There was a long pause. “My Minako wasn’t strong enough. I always knew she would choose to… I didn’t want to put you in the same position.”
“Let me get this straight. Knowing you’d die at any time, you thought to put me under the princess’ care to somehow save me the pain?”
“Yes.”
Kakeru’s volume rose. “You’re such a fool Masaru! I’d rather have my closest friend for a week than endure years of silence. I could have been beside you all this time.”
“I thought… you would have moved on.”
“Moved on? What on earth are you talking about?”
“I hoped you’d forget me.”
Kakeru let out a long exhale. “How could I possibly forget someone as stubborn and ridiculous as you? I mean, what was with that decision last month to allow that pompous sculptor to put a statue of you, in your underclothes, dancing with a tree, in the middle of the town square?”
Mina raised her eyebrows. It had been an odd thing to do, and she considered having it removed when she took power.
Laughter filled the room, her father’s turning into a wheezing cough. “All right, it wasn’t my most informed decision.” He paused. “I’m sorry. I thought it was right to push you away… then again, I haven’t been able to make good decisions lately.”
“I just wish you hadn’t insisted on being alone.” A few minutes of silence passed before Kakeru spoke again. “I’ve noticed something. It’s taken them no effort at all to summon their spirit swords.”
“I know. Their bonds are seamless. The children are nothing short of perfect vessels this time, as though they were the original dragons themselves.”
“I fear she will lose herself.”
“Watch over her. Don’t… fail her as I have.” Her father’s voice grew weaker. “Say, Kakeru, did you ever confess to that girl?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Kakeru snapped. “I told you, it’s not like that.”
Her father chuckled lightly.
Mina turned her eyes toward the room. Her father’s light was almost out, the ethereal violet of his spirit fading. And because of her, there was nowhere for them to go. Would their spirits disappear? Or would they forever wander the earth in search of a home? She didn’t know.
“Minako, my love… I finally come to join you.” Her father’s words were barely a whisper as he took his final breath.
She closed her eyes, her fist balling against the door. There was only one heartbeat in the room now.
“Be at peace, my friend,” whispered Kakeru.
Mina slipped away before he left the room. A few drops rolled down her cheek, but there was no point in mourning. It had only been a matter of time, after all.
Nine years had passed without a reigning imperial couple, and the empire slowly descended into turmoil. Neither the prince nor the princess could overturn the ancient law. Bound together, they must rule together. As Mina’s coming of age neared—her sixteenth birthday—their people breathed a collective sigh of relief. The last remaining blood heir could finally take the throne as empress, and they would once more have an imperial couple.
Mina rested against the low pavilion railing in the vast palace gardens. The roar of the waterfall beside her drowned out her unnecessary thoughts. She traced the ornate carvings on the smooth wood with her thumb. Every aspect of the palace had been crafted down to the tiniest detail.
She would be forced to face him again, and soon, for their coronation. They hadn’t seen each other in person for the last nine years. Only that woman—Mistress Marionette—had forced their cooperation, by correspondence of course, during that incident in Anadrieth. Worse, still, were the certain expectations that came with their wedding night.
“Not in the mood for celebrations?” Lord Yuno approached her, a cup in each hand. He’d decided to keep his hair short, a look that suited his muscular form. He leaned against the railing, offering her a drink.
Mina took it, and it was gone in a single swallow. “There’s nothing to celebrate.” She held out the cup for him to take. “Although, I suppose congratulations are in order, supreme commander.”
It was a consolation prize for the failed firstborn, both an insult and a blessing, but it was a smart move on Prince Yukiya’s suggestion. It would somewhat placate their people, who would understand why Lord Yuno was not becoming emperor, and it would keep him close to the palace. Still, he deserved the position, more or less.
Yuno gave her a tight smile. “Thank you.” He snapped his fingers.
Lyra trotted over to refill their cups, but Mina shook her head. The servant girl’s eyes lingered on her for a moment too long.
“How is the situation between Calvera and Lysanthir?” Mina asked.
“A culprit was arrested, but Calvera won’t release the da
m. The Lysanthians don’t have more than a few years of water stored up.”
Mina sighed. “And we can’t overrule a region’s decision unless it’s by imperial decree.”
Yuno smirked. “Don’t worry, my brother will be back soon. He’s not going to miss the most important night of his life for a little regional spat.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
He slid closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. She frowned.
“I want nothing more than to free you from this obligation.” Yuno wrapped an arm around her, and she stiffened.
“I don’t think you understand the reality of this curse.”
He smiled. “My dear, I’m quite certain I can handle it one way or another.”
Mina bristled. “Your… overconfidence is a breath of fresh air.” She blinked, and dots began to cloud her vision. Had she been getting enough sleep?
“Would you rather spend the night with him?” Yuno’s hand glided down her back, speaking low into her ear. “Are you willing to let him do this?”
She shoved him back, only managing human force as the weighty fatigue settled in. “Don’t be… crude.” Her tongue was slow, her speech beginning to slur. “I’m not in… the mood… for your games.”
Her eyelids were struggling to stay open, and her legs collapsed beneath her, falling into his grip. She’d caught on, but she was too late to stop it. Her blood would neutralize whatever he had put in her cup, but it would take time.
“There, there, it will be over soon,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb across her cheek.
Mina jerked to the side as Yuno thrust a well-concealed dagger into her chest, narrowly missing her heart. She staggered back, grabbing onto the rail. He was such a fool. The curse couldn’t be broken this way; he didn’t understand how it worked. Her body was convulsing, her strength failing her. Vythorn. It had to be vythorn in that cup—the deadliest poison in the empire.
Yuno knew how she fought, how she moved, her reaction time. She wouldn’t be able to dodge him in this state. As Mina coughed, a trickle of blood escaped her lips. She didn’t have the energy to summon her swords.