Side Story: Death, and the End of Dreams, Part III
63 0 3
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Three months later, in the Hall of Fleeting Moonlight…

Tonight, the elven merchants princes and gang lords of the City of Dreams were here to partake in decadent festivities, once again. Music, food, drink, and the steps of a waltz. This time, they were loyal to her and only her, Lucid II, the newly-crowned Caliph of Oasis, and ever-faithful Archon to the living god Elicia whose great Empire encompassed the entirety of the known realms, ascendent in the ashes of the Alyssian Empire of old. The Prince, and the death knights, relics of the past in this age of humanity’s ascendence, now that she, their new ruler arisen from the old order, had claimed these golden sands of eternal night in Elicia’s name.

In quiet contemplation, dressed to the nines in scarlet and without her Death Knight mask, Lucid II sipped slowly at her glass of champagne in hand, spiked with blood. The streets were still paved with fallen rose petals left in her wake, scattered from up high when she made the long walk from the city gates to the Chandra Mahal as part of the coronation ceremony, adorned and immaculate in the red plate of her Death Knight armour. And perhaps in some kind of ironic echo to memories best left forgotten, this reception in the Palace of the Moon where she was now the master of the house when she had once been but a mere guardian, was another formality – a belated celebration of a war already won.

Now, it was just pleasantries. Congratulations, adulations, praise, promises, and gifts, lavished upon her by everyone in attendance to the point of inundation. And she had done her best to reply in kind, as the Caliph of Oasis was wont to do, ever the benevolent tyrant no different from her fellow Archons, who had taken over the rest of Melodia in their own dominions far past the eternal night and the desert sands. It was all rather tiring, to say the least of it, for she knew herself best to be a warrior at heart, rather than some kind of monarch. She wanted very much to feel that same joy within her, when a party of such grandeur had been thrown in her honour, in a time that now felt so much to her like a bygone era. But she could not, and she had excused herself. If only, for a brief respite from all the pomp and circumstance.

With a sigh, Lucid II emptied her glass and placed it nonchalantly upon a gilded tray held out by a nearby servant. Elicia, her divine mistress to whom she had bent the knee, had already left the City of Dreams with the Ecclesiarch and the Lord General, alongside the armies of the Lightsworn Guard and the Black Legion. Only Nhaka Mezalune, the Eye of Elicia, had stayed behind. The Beholder was in attendance with her bodyguard, what Nhaka had referred to as her ‘Vizier’ – a tall, red-haired nymph with hollowed out eyes, armoured in what looked very much like corruption manifest upon the living world despite bearing the aura of the Keeper of the Forest said to have perished in the Corruption, her expression clearly sour and annoyed at the decadence unfolding around her. Regardless, this creature had thankfully gone off to the palace gardens, to be alone in her solitude.

It was at this point, now that she had a brief moment all to herself, that she, still the newly-crowned Caliph and lady of the hour, thought of returning to her fellow Archon and newly self-professed ‘best friend’, who could be seen over at the buffet tables helping herself to the lavish spread of food and drink prepared by the palace kitchens for this party. Nhaka was indeed a rather interesting creature, and what she had initially dismissed as a mutant of a little human girl with far too many eyes, was in fact one of the Hellbourne – a Beholder, ancient even in the years of the Alyssian Empire’s twilight, who had been at Elicia’s side for more than a century. If anything, if not to just pass the time, she did want to know more about the Hellbourne, and the nature of her new appointment.

“Your Majesty…”

The servant’s words were brief when they were whispered into her ear, precise and to the point in the way that the deceased Prince had ordained them to be for all servants in this household that was now hers. In truth, she had not caught every single word, but what she had heard was enough to get her moving as briskly as she could to the other end of the hall, despite the length of her scarlet gown and uncomfortableness of her high-heeled shoes.

When made her way past the guests and towards the lounge in the corner of the hall, she had hoped the servant was joking, even if making up something like this would surely warrant a severe punishment of some kind. Alas, he was not. Her beloved Athena, unmasked and in an evening gown of black and golden silk, lay slumped upon an armchair, her brown eyes gazing lazily and dreamily at nothing as she giggled to herself, all alone. Flowers petals from the flowers in the vase set upon a nearby table lay upon her clothes and around her feet, the stalks they had once belonged to chewed and plucked bare. Everyone else in attendance, it seemed, had done well to give her a wide berth.

“Why do you have to ruin this occasion?” Lucid II asked with her voice little more than a tired whisper as the tips of her elvish ears drooped, unable to suppress the weariness and annoyance welling up within her. “Why?”

There was no response from Athena, who continued chewing absentmindedly at a fresh stalk of flowers, and Lucid II frowned as she sat herself down upon an adjacent armchair, staring dead ahead of herself.

“That Hellbourne scamp. Nhaka Mezalune, isn’t it?” Athena remarked out loud, as she spat out a stray petal. “She’s the most powerful person in the Dread Expanse.”

Lucid II frowned. Try as she might, she could not bear to look upon her beloved, whose brown eyes once shone with the warmth and joy that she loved with all of her undead heart and accursed soul combined. Her beloved had changed, ever since that night. It had only gotten worse, when she learned what had to be done in Elicia’s name.

“Isn’t she, ‘Your Majesty’…?” Athena added, slurring her words as she pointed lazily in the general direction of the buffet table far ahead, where a crowd of finely dressed nobles had gathered around the Eye of Elicia. “Look at them… all so eager to curry her favour... even you had to ask her for permission before you could kill him…”

“What are you talking about, Athena?” Lucid II demanded, her pink eyes staring straight ahead of herself as she adamantly refused to look at where Athena was pointing. “I am in control here. I am the Caliph of Oasis. I am an Archon of Elicia.”

Athena covered her mouth and giggled with the fervour of a little girl, her elvish ears twitching erratically as she laughed. It was a mocking laughter, that soon enough, turned to bitter dryness. Then, silence ensued between the both of them. It hurt.

“We should have perished there,” Athena stated quietly after a while, her voice suddenly cold and deadly serious. “In the killing fields… you and me…”

“What I have done,” Lucid II answered. “I have done for you and only you, Athena.” “For our sake…”

A dry smirk formed upon Athena’s lips.

“You speak only for yourself, ‘Your Majesty’.”

“That is not true, Athena. And please stop calling me that.”

“Is it not?” Athena asked rhetorically. “You’ve changed, ever since that night.”

Wordlessly, Lucid II frowned.

“You killed them all, ‘Your Majesty’. Remember? For your new mistress, our brothers and sisters that remained…”

“I did not expect any of us to survive that battle…” Lucid II answered as tears formed in her pink eyes, rolling down her cheeks and down upon her scarlet regalia. “They would not listen… they were in my way, and I had to, for…”

“For me, you say?”

“Yes! For you, I will do anything.”

Tearfully, Lucid II glared at Athena, who returned her gaze with emotionless curiosity. Despite her expressionlessness, there were tears forming in her brown eyes.

“Then why do you not make love to me anymore?”

“Because…” Lucid II answered, quivering as she rose from her seat. “Because all we do now… is fight… and argue. I do not want any of this… I only want…”

“Show me, Lucid…” Athena whispered to Lucid II, having arisen from her seat as well, stepping forward to place her hands gently upon her beloved’s shoulders, before leaning in close. “Show me…”

It was then, that a sudden sense of dread took hold of Lucid II. Within the longing and pain-stricken gaze of Athena’s brown eyes, she envisioned the Prince’s corpse, and those of her fallen brothers and sisters who had been in her way when the deed was done. It was enough that she flinched and backed away, no longer able to look her beloved in the eye. 

“You’re ashamed, now…” Athena remarked quietly. “I see how it is. Truly, you’ve changed.”

“You are mistaken…” Lucid II answered, her voice a tearful whisper. “I do not know what came over me. Maybe, we can… I…”

Athena grimaced bitterly.

“Oh, yes of course. You’re an ‘Archon’ now, aren’t you?”

Lucid II nodded.

“I promise I will make it up to you! After this ceremony, Elicia has invited me to the Holy See of Arcadia alongside the other Archons. They will build a great Ancient Cathedral there in her honour, and I have to be in attendance. We can go together, and…”

“Don’t ever worry about that, ‘Your Majesty’,” Athena answered, coldly. “I’ll NEVER go to the Holy See of Arcadia.”

“Then go to your room.”

Lucid II waited for a response. Anything, but nothing ever came. In silence, she watched as Athena walked away from her, only to stop just a few steps ahead to swipe a glass of champagne from a tray held out by a nearby servant in waiting. And then, she turned around, a bitter grimace upon her lips as she looked the Caliph in the eye.

“Long live Her Majesty!” Athena declared loudly, offering her glass up high as a toast to Lucid II. “May she reign for a thousand years!”

“Yes, a thousand years for Her Majesty!”

Quietly, and tearfully, with everyone else cheering and offering their compliments in a seemingly endless stream of adulations, Lucid II’s gaze remained solely upon Athena. Her beloved had already turned her back on her, vanishing into the crowd that continued to adore and praise their newly-crowned Caliph while party favours and streamers fell from up high, blanketing the floor amidst the great fanfare made in her honour.

In light of it all, she, now the lord of a thousand years, could do naught but watch on and listen.

3