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Hey Chamber Mates! Hope you had a great week. Here is another chapter for you!




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Ants. Nothing but ants, that is what they are, toiling in their daily lives believing that their efforts will make a difference in their fate, underneath the crushing weight of a boot.

 Ants are meant to be ruled by a queen and she was their queen.

Turning away, in a swirl of regal grandeur and flowing fabrics, from her tower view of the milling crowds below, Alysa acknowledged the silent figure standing amongst the shadows of the room.

“You have returned.” Alysa spoke as she made her way over to the vanity and took a seat at the table and considered her reflection in the mirror.

“Yes, my Lady.” The figure spoke separating himself from the shadows. The late evening sun that spilled in through the tower window glistened amongst his fair locks and illuminated his pale skin; his steps across the room where measured and soundless as he took his place behind Alysa before continuing. “I have returned.”

“What news do you bring me, Phalan?”    

Phalan’s silence, in response to her question drew her eyes away from her face in the mirror with a piqued interest. It was unlike him to be hesitant. Alysa could feel the nervous energy that radiated from his body from where he stood behind her, waiting.

 Catching his gaze within the reflection before her, Alysa extended her mind and touched at his thoughts. A sudden smile stretched across her at the flinch he could not suppress at her sudden intrusion. Alysa watched through the mirror, as Phalan took a steadying breath his fists clenching at his sides, and she slipped further into his mind space and combed through his mind, seeking.       

Images shrouded in the darkness; warranted by its secretiveness and urgency, flittered though her vision, of the journey he had taken. Alysa scanned through them with a practiced eye. Her mental probe was flooded with his feelings of frustration, disappointment and ultimately-- fear at his apparent failure which only served to anger her.

Phalan knew that there would be hell to pay from Alysa. It was right there in his mind along with his resolve to bear the punishment. Alysa so hated to disappoint but there were more important things to see to first. As a creature of insurmountable power, she was not used to having her desires unmet. This once, she told herself, she would delay her pleasure.

Bidding him a momentary reprieve, Alysa withdrew from Phalan’s mind space and stood. As she turned towards the young man, Phalan quickly dropped to his knees before her.         

“It would seem that you mean to tell me that my most skilled warriors could not manage to bring me one doddering old man?” The soft rustling of the hem of gown against the cold marble floor marked her movement across the floor as she continued to speak. “Is that what you would have me believe, Phalan?”

“The Hermit must have been warned of our arrival, my lady, we searched the villages but no one has seen him for some time. It is as though he had turned into air.”

“Into air, has he?” Alysa asked, more to herself than to the young man as she made her way across the cavernous room to a gilded cabinet tucked discreetly into the northern most corner.  

Reaching the cabinet, Alysa placed the palm of her slender hand upon the face of the piece and spoke softly in a language long forgotten. A soft click and a release of pressure within the air was all that preceded the opening of the cabinet. Shelves lined with an assortment of glasses and vials was all that Phalan could see of the interior of the cabinet before Alysa stepped closer into the opened closet, blocking his view with her lithe body.

The tinkling of glass and whispered words reached him where he knelt before Alysa’s armoire. Sorcery, Phalan was almost certain of it, although he didn’t dare let the thought cross his mind or worst yet his lips whenever he was in her vicinity. He was not unaware of the whispers that abounded about the strange happenings in the southern tower since he had arrived, a mere boy, in the Citadel.

Those outside of the walls of the Citadel would never know the strange circumstances by which people lived within. The secretive comings and goings of men, women, and children that they never dared speak of. Those who were foolish enough to voice their questions aloud were often never seen again, although screams could frequently be heard from the lower levels in the dark of night. One learned that it would be best to remain unseen and unheard; they toiled day and night under the watchful eye of some unseen power.

 No one had seen her before, the Queen, not even during formal occasions when King addressed the people was she ever seen. Her identity shrouded in mystery. Some believed that the King so weary of lusty eyes falling on his beautiful bride kept her hidden away within the southern tower. Others thought that she had gone mad and in a fit of rage locked herself away denying all admittance and had probably died within the tower sometime ago. But no one dared enter the place.

 It had been his ability to move amongst the shadows that had drawn her attention to him all those years ago; when youthful bravado had led him into the southern tower and to the room at the top of the spiraling stairs. That is where he had first seen her to a young boy born beneath the city in the dark sewers that carried waste and abandoned to eaten by rats. She had been a vision of celestial grace and a heavily veiled timeless beauty; a veritable angel on earth that reached out a hand to him and saved him from a life as a vassal.

Never would he forget that hand that reached out to him and the soft voice that spoke to him. She had promised to make him a king. So he would keep her secrets if only to repay his debt. But he could feel the tension that had been growing with her. It was more than just finding the Hermit for his annual reading, she was searching for something. Some news. Someone.

“The Eastern Woods, Phalan. Send word to Hammel and his horde to search the woods there. I want the Hermit found!” At her sudden vehemence Phalan dared to look up at Alysa, who now stood before him once more having soundlessly approached him during his musings. What she had learned from her toilings at the closet he knew better than to wonder at, the tight set of her jaw was enough to ensure him that it was indeed unpleasant.

“What would you have me do my lady?” he asked meekly bowing lowly hoping she had not noticed his distraction.

“You have other work to do, Phalan.” She spoke menace dripping from her voice as she reached out and lifted his face back to hers with a firm grip on his chin. “Do not fail me again.”

“No, my lady.”

Releasing his chin and returning to her height, Alysa turned away from him to once again fix her gaze on her reflection in the glass.

“Go for now and speak with him. It seems I have another visitor waiting.”

A firm knock sounded at the door into the grand room, Phalan quickly regained his feet and slunk back into the shadows and out of the room as soundlessly as he had entered.

 With the final flutter of the curtain back into stillness Alysa, drew the sheer ceiling to floor veil that separated her inner sanctum from the main receiving room and the door at which the knock sounded, before taking a seat behind the veil and called out regally, “Enter.”

  

 

His Royal Highness King Edrick of Myrthza, was not a mere man subject to the whims of others. Lands had been reclaimed through blood, force, and coercion and scheming during his reign. He ruled with an iron fist and the land hand flourished under his watch.

Long live the King and may his reign last forever.

That is what they believed of him, his subjects, that is what he wanted—needed them to believe. Because the alternative would destroy everything he had toiled these long years for.

The truth had always been overrated by the lesser of men, the masses cried out for justice and peace but they were not ready to learn at what cost it would come. If they knew who he was and the events that had brought him, and them, to this point; power, desire, and revenge, there was no accounting for the fall out that it would result in.

It was for those reasons that he climbed the grand spiraled staircase to see her, Alysa. To the world outside of these walls she was his young and beautiful Queen that out of jealousy he had secreted away in this remote tower.

 If only that were the truth.

 If only this need for secrecy could be explained away so easily.

Edrick stood at the uppermost landing of the southern tower, his breathe slightly labored by the journey and gathered his senses about him emptying his mind and stilling his rapid breath. When at last he felt he was ready to face Alysa he lifted his large hand and firmly rapped on the door.    

At her call of admittance, Edrick pushed the massive door forward and stepped into the room. The heavy clunk of his boots on the marble floor reverberated through the cavernous room as he made his further into the interior. The sight of Alysa’s elegantly clad back as she sat at her vanity stopped Edrick’s footsteps before the veil and he sunk into a deep bow before speaking.

“My Lady, I have come.”

“Oh, you are here.” Alysa said nonchalantly over her shoulder.

Edrick stood erect in the middle of the floor his gaze remained lowered to the ornate floor. Ancient runes peppered the circular design marking the four points of the wind.  With the largest of the symbols surrounded by, what he could assume, scripted words that continued to the outer larger rings, under his feet. At the back of his mind, Edrick noted that this was not the only addition to the room; pieces of furniture he had never seen before now littered the front area as well as this veil that had been erected.

Edrick’s eyes surveyed what they could of, the area behind the thin veil skimming over Alysa’s seated figure and taking in the gentle fluttering of a sheer curtain in a more distant window. In the corner beyond the window Edrick espied the cabinet; with its worn wooden doors and etchings that matched those that now decorated the floor beneath his feet, it was a token of his long history with Alysa that he recognized it and the oddities he knew lay within.

It was all very strange, Edrick thought to himself as an overwhelming feeling of an impending shift washed over him. All these, otherwise small and inconsequential changes, did not necessarily mean anything but with her, Edrick had learned never to ignore the smallest of details. It was, that sixth sense he had developed in his dealings with Alysa that took spoke to him that it was as if the room was in preparation for a new mistress but he knew that Alysa would never give up her place and the power it afforded her.

What are you conspiring now?  The question rang through his mind unbidden before he could intercept it. Alysa’s soft chuckle drew his eyes back to her. The slight upward tilt of her pert mouth spoke to her knowledge of the trend of his thoughts. Edrick could not help the straightening of his spine, that was his automatic response, in preparation for the rebuke he was sure she would met out. He hated giving her the pleasure.

“Whatever brings the all mighty King of Myrthza to my humble tower?” she asked her tone more than slightly mocking and gleeful.

“I await your word my lady—on that matter we spoke of before.”

“And what matter would that have been? Hmm?”

“As you have said, the lands to the North and West have all been won through flames and force and they have sent envoys to pledge their arms and allegiance to Myrthza, but as for our neighbors to the East-”

“What of them?”

“They have proven formidable.” Edrick eked out lowly.

“What is this?” Alysa exclaimed loudly in a burst of laughter and disbelief, “Do you mean to tell me that not even King Edrick purveyor of the lands and great conqueror of Myrthza can defeat a mere township of farmers?”

“They are more than mere farmers my lady, it is rumored that they fight to protect their ancient faith and way of life. It makes them more persistent and foolhardy”

“Yes such devoutness in men does often makes them more difficult to squash. What is it that you ask of me Edrick? I find I grow tired of your endless prattiling.”

“I ask only for the needed strength to conquer my enemies, my Lady.”

“You ask only do you?” Alysa spoke again chuckling softly before continuing, “I have heard your request and will grant you as such but will collect a small boon from you in return.”

“My lady?” A sudden chill skirted across his skin raising the hairs along exposed arms and the nape of his neck at her words.

“Would you deny me, Edrick, after everything?”

The air within the chamber became heavy; the weight of it bowed Edrick low before Alysa. His words rushed from his mouth on short pants as he revisited the added pressure. “I would never deny my Lady. You have but only to ask it of me, all that I have is yours.”

“Yes Edrick, it is.”






Chapter End Notes:

As always thank you for reading and I love hearing form you guys so feel free to comment and or ask questions! Until Next Week!







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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.