Scribed
DAPHNE
It felt like it lasted hours.
The burning.
It ripped me up from my seat, unveiled me and twisted me into the air, spinning me around until I was naught but a sliver of gold, glowing above the throne. Fighting to catch my breath. Talons of molten steel streaked across my back, tearing into my flesh and causing me to weep.
I could see nothing beyond the halogen brightness of starlight that seemed to fill the throne room, but I could hear the chaos below. Hear Klyesque as she shouted for all to get back. For all to lower their weapons. And all I could think upon in that moment was how many times I had been told that my people awaited me.
Was I lied to?
Did they not want their queen?
Once the burning in my back ceased, the magic that held me, gingerly placed me back in my seat. Prim and proper as ever. And just when I thought it was done with me, just as my vision began to clear and I could see that the great hall was now filled with different fae, each of them reaching for me, each of them gazing in wonder… that was when the pulsing began.
A thrumming of hot power right to my chest, causing me to grimace with fear as it felt like my heart might explode.
But as that happened, something else did as well.
The people. My people. They wailed as if burning with their own pain. Crying out mercy and then… with joy as the pulsing ceased and all could breathe again. Even me.
The silence that filled the hall carried a palpable tension as each and every fae, save for Summoner, once again hit their knees.
I sat there breathing horribly, my hands clutching the arms of the throne as my eyes found Klyesque’s and begged for her company.
She was the first to stand, to walk up the dais to my side.
And when she did, the tears in her eyes spoke volumes. Then, as she turned, she said, “What say you now, Summoner?”
He hesitated at first, looking around as if gauging a battle. Wondering if his control remained over the guard, and that alone was troubling. But he answered with, “Forgive me, your majesty. I only sought to protect your throne from usurpers.”
I heard my voice then, loud and unforgiving, as if it was not my own. I said, “Then why do you not take a knee? Did I not tell you, you would bow until the rise of the moons?”
“You did, majesty,” he replied.
“Well then?” I said, with a cock of one eyebrow. “You have my permission to begin.”
His face turned the brightest shade of crimson as he did as I bid him and I smiled rather wickedly, standing from my throne to greet the rest. “Everyone else may rise. Please, leave Summoner to his work and show me where me and my companions can… rest.”
That was awhile ago, and now I stand in my chambers at the end of the third stairwell which takes up an entire floor. I am naked and standing in front of a looking glass as long as I am tall, marveling at the sight before me with a wide open gaze.
Intricate designs now ride across my spine in a shimmer of gold, the track across both of my shoulders and arms to wrap about my wrists like bracelets. They are beautiful and dare I say, so am I.
Something has changed in my appearance. Something other than the scribing. The green of my eyes seems brighter and almost glowing, the luminance of my skin nearly thrums with warmth and my hair… I’ve never seen it shine this way. Like a cascade of chestnut waves, traced in highlights of burnished gold. Like a gilded waterfall.
I feel amazing.
“Are we to gawk at your voluptuous hide all day, Daphne?” Klyesque taunts me from her place seated on one of my balcony chaises, as she swallows yet another grape.
We found a platter filled with fruit and cheese waiting in my rooms after our baths and the very first thing we did was gorge on all that was offered. I hadn’t truly realized how hungry I was until that moment.
The shutters are open, the fresh air teasing in with a whisper of a breeze and the sound of a thousand faeries below greets my ears as they laugh and prepare for a banquet they are throwing in my honor.
I should be happy about this. I should be. But I’m not.
My heart ache for my sister and… for Ash.
How angry will he be when he realizes I’ve left?
Will he hate me for leaving his mother alone?
Will he think that I’ve run off on him and begin to doubt me again?
How close is he to finding Diana and is he keeping his promise to me in avoiding the Winter Queen’s advances?
All of these questions plague me and the fact that there is a feast being prepared feels somewhat careless.
With a heaving sigh I turn toward the beautiful four poster bed that is dressed in frills of white and green and my eyes come to rest on the magnificent gown they’ve laid out for me next to a crown of gilded leaves.
I don’t want to wear them. I want the faerie maille and circlet that I was wearing before my washing.
“Where are our clothes, Klyesque?” I snap as I begin to tug on the soft slip of a gown of earthy browns and golds that the maids left for me.
She laughs, leaping from her seat and joining me at my bedside. She herself is wearing a long green robe that clashes with her skin tone and makes my teeth gnash together in angst.
“They are being laundered, your grace,” she mocks me, leaping out of arm’s reach when I reach out to throttle her.
“I swear to God, Kly-”
“Ah-ah-ah! Forget not where you are, Daphne. There should be no swearing! You are in possession of high magic now. Magic you will soon enough be called to use. Let’s not taint it with idle vows.”
With a long sigh, I finish donning the dress and slippers, but leave the crown resting on the bed. It was said that I need not wear it all the time, and thank the heavens, for I do not intend to. The damn thing is terribly heavy and not altogether comfortable.
“I don’t even know how. I’ve no idea the extent of my powers and when I asked Magda about it, she said training starts tomorrow. And I don’t think I need to tell you how I feel about that!”
Klyesque laughs standing behind me as I survey myself in the looking glass. She is more than a half a head taller than I am and in the robe she is wearing she looks ethereally beautiful.
Like a princess, which I am remembering, she actually is.
“When are we going to talk about your mother and the kingdom you left?” I ask her, turning to retrieve my dragon song from the bedside table - a surface made from the gnarled interior of the elm tree, a darker, more golden wood than the outer white - and placing the necklace over my head to rest against my breast inside the gown.
Klyesque’s eyes sharpen, her lips turning down in a frown. “I’m afraid, Daphne, should I share that particular tale with you, you might think me a coward and I simply will not have it.”
“I would never think you a coward, Klyesque. You are among the bravest souls I have ever known,” I say honestly.
She sighs. “Maybe I will tell you. One day. When I am ready.”
“Deal,” I say, just as my body jolts and my chest thumps with power, an image of the Lost Gate we came through flashing past my eyes.
“What is it, Daphne?” Klyesque asks, scrambling for her sword in her robe.
Horns sound before I am able to answer and a chorus of shouts rise up through the balcony doorway.
“Someone has arrived,” I whisper. “I think… someone has just passed through the gate.”