Chapter 24 The Crazy Queen

Chapter 24 The Crazy Queen
The Witch Queen's POV
The portal exploded open in the center of the throne room.
A violent wave of magic tore through the chamber, sending curtains flying and extinguishing every candle in its path. The witches gathered inside the hall stumbled backward in alarm as several bodies came crashing out of the swirling darkness.
The first body struck the black marble floor hard enough to crack it.
For a brief moment, complete silence descended upon the room.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
No one dared.
Because the person lying on the floor was the last individual anyone expected to see in such a state.
Their Queen.
The ruler of the Witch Kingdom slowly pushed herself upright.
Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.
Her robes were torn.
One sleeve had been burned away entirely.
A long scratch marked her cheek.
The sight alone was enough to send waves of fear through everyone present.
The Witch Queen had ruled for centuries.
She had crushed rebellions before they even began.
Destroyed enemies without mercy.
Built an empire on fear and power.
Nobody had ever seen her injured.
Nobody.
Her dark eyes swept across the room.
Every witch immediately lowered their gaze.
Then suddenly she laughed.
The sound echoed throughout the throne room.
At first it was soft.
Then louder.
And louder.
Soon the laughter filled every corner of the palace.
It was not the laughter of someone amused.
It was the laughter of someone standing on the edge of madness.
The witches exchanged nervous glances.
The Queen continued laughing until tears gathered in her eyes.
A nineteen-year-old girl.
A girl.
A child.
A child had tricked her.
The thought made her laugh even harder.
Her shoulders shook.
Her chest heaved.
The witches standing nearby looked utterly terrified.
Then the laughter stopped.
Just like that.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
The Queen slowly rose to her feet.
Her eyes glowed with dangerous power.
"Get out."
Nobody hesitated.
Within seconds the throne room emptied.
The Queen stood alone.
Her hands clenched into fists.
Magic crackled around her.
The marble beneath her feet shattered.
"Aurora..."
The name rolled off her tongue like poison.
For the first time in centuries, she felt humiliated.
Not defeated.
Humiliation was worse.
Far worse.
Because she had underestimated the girl.
She had expected fear.
Panic.
Desperation.
Instead Aurora had stood before her and outsmarted her.
The memory made rage surge through her veins.
The Queen threw her hand forward.
A nearby pillar exploded instantly.
Stone rained across the hall.
Still it wasn't enough.
The anger remained.
The image of Aurora sitting upon that strange winged horse replayed again and again inside her mind.
Those golden eyes.
That strange power.
That confidence.
None of it made sense.
Aurora should not exist.
A witch raised in hiding should not possess such abilities.
The Queen had spent centuries studying magic.
Centuries hunting power.
Centuries gathering forbidden knowledge.
Yet what she witnessed during that battle felt unfamiliar.
Wrong.
Ancient.
She closed her eyes.
Replaying every moment.
Every spell.
Every movement.
Every fluctuation of energy.
Aurora had gathered power directly from her surroundings.
Not from a wand.
Not from an artifact.
Not even from herself.
The environment had responded to her.
As if the world itself obeyed her commands.
The Queen's eyes snapped open.
A cold feeling settled in her stomach.
There was only one place in existence where such stories originated.
One place buried beneath myth and forgotten history.
One place she had spent centuries trying to find.
Veritas.
The name alone was enough to send a chill through her.
"No."
She immediately shook her head.
It was impossible.
Veritas was a legend.
A fairy tale.
A story told to children.
Yet the more she thought about it, the less certain she became.
The Queen turned sharply and strode toward the rear of the palace.
Guards immediately stepped aside.
Nobody dared stop her.
She moved quickly through long corridors and winding staircases.
Past the royal chambers.
Past the underground archives.
Past the prison cells.
Further.
Deeper.
Far beneath the palace itself.
The air grew colder with every step.
Eventually she reached an ancient iron door.
The door was covered in strange runes.
Thousands of them.
Each one pulsing faintly with power.
The Queen pressed her hand against the center.
The runes glowed.
The door slowly opened.
A dark chamber revealed itself.
The room contained only one object.
A mirror.
It stood nearly fifteen feet tall.
Its frame appeared to be forged from black metal unlike anything found in the world.
Ancient symbols covered every inch of its surface.
The glass itself wasn't truly glass.
It resembled liquid darkness.
The Witch Queen stopped before it.
For the first time that day, uncertainty appeared in her eyes.
Even after all these years, the mirror unsettled her.
She feared nothing.
Except perhaps this.
Because the mirror had never lied.
Not once.
It had shown her where powerful artifacts were hidden.
It had revealed future threats.
It had guided her rise to power.
Without it, she would never have become what she was today.
Slowly she raised a hand.
The dark surface rippled.
Like black water disturbed by a stone.
"Mirror."
Her voice echoed softly.
The surface shimmered.
Awake.
Listening.
Waiting.
The Queen inhaled deeply.
Then asked the question.
"Who is the most powerful being alive?"
The answer came instantly.
The mirror brightened.
An image appeared.
Aurora.
The Queen stared.
Her expression remained unreadable.
Deep down she had expected this.
The girl's power had already exceeded reason.
Still, seeing it confirmed made her jaw tighten.
Aurora's image slowly faded.
The Queen stepped closer.
"How do I obtain her power?"
Silence.
The mirror became still.
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
A minute.
Two.
Three.
The Queen frowned.
This had never happened before.
"Answer me."
The mirror remained silent.
Suddenly words began appearing across its surface.
Not answers.
A warning.
The Queen's eyes narrowed as she read.
Power cannot be stolen from the rightful ruler.
The chamber grew colder.
"What ruler?"
The mirror remained silent.
The Queen's heart began beating faster.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She had spent centuries chasing power.
Yet this felt different.
The mirror was withholding information.
For the first time ever.
A feeling she hadn't experienced in hundreds of years began creeping into her chest.
Fear.
"No."
Her voice hardened.
"Show me."
The mirror rippled once more.
"Show me the truth."
The darkness within the mirror deepened.
The room began shaking.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
The Queen took a step backward.
Even the mirror itself seemed reluctant.
Then slowly another image appeared.
The Witch Queen froze.
A woman stood within the darkness.
Long silver hair flowed down her back.
A white dress shimmered softly around her.
Golden eyes stared directly outward.
Calm.
Peaceful.
Powerful.
The Queen's breath caught.
She knew that face.
Impossible.
Her entire body went rigid.
"No..."
The image remained.
Unchanging.
Watching.
The Queen stumbled backward.
Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.
The woman should have been dead.
She should have vanished long ago.
Every record said so.
Every prophecy.
Every ancient text.
All of them.
Yet there she stood.
Alive.
The Queen's hands trembled.
For centuries she had searched for answers.
For centuries she had searched for Veritas.
And now suddenly everything was beginning to fit together.
Aurora.
The strange power.
The winged horse.
The impossible magic.
The mirror's refusal.
Veritas.
The silver-haired woman.
The realization struck her like lightning.
Aurora had found it.
Not only found it.
Claimed it.
The Queen felt sick.
All her plans.
All her ambitions.
Everything she had worked toward suddenly felt threatened.
Because if Aurora truly possessed Veritas...
Then the balance of the entire world would change.
The mirror flickered once.
The woman's image vanished.
Darkness returned.
The chamber fell silent.
The Witch Queen stood motionless.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
For the first time in centuries, she genuinely felt afraid.
Not of death.
Not of defeat.
But of losing.
Losing everything she had spent her life building.
Slowly her fear began transforming.
Twisting.
Darkening.
Becoming something else entirely.
Obsession.
If Aurora possessed Veritas...
Then Aurora must die.
It was that simple.
The Queen straightened.
Her trembling stopped.
The fear disappeared beneath layers of cold determination.
A cruel smile spread across her lips.
"No matter where you hide, little girl..."
Her voice echoed softly through the chamber.
"No matter which kingdom shelters you."
Her eyes gleamed dangerously.
"No matter what ancient power protects you."
The smile widened.
"I will find you."
The darkness around her stirred.
Magic pulsed through the room.
The Queen turned and began walking toward the exit.
Her footsteps echoed behind her.
Slow.
Measured.
Certain.
A war was coming.
She could feel it.
And before it ended...
One of them would fall.
As she reached the doorway, she paused.
Just once.
Looking back toward the mirror.
Toward the place where the silver-haired woman had appeared.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Then she whispered words she never imagined she would say.
"Celesta..."
The name lingered in the darkness.
And for the first time in hundreds of years...
The Witch Queen prayed she was wrong.