After the Desert Rose and Eryx left me on the path alone, I wandered between the trees where at the end I saw a faint glow peeking through some plant life.
Every step I took seemed to grow my confidence in my destination. As I drew near I saw a small, maybe waist-high entrance embedded into a tree from where the crimson light was coming from. There was no doubt that this was the right place to go. I gulped down my anxiety and ducked into the little entrance.
I could only describe the interior as what I'd imagine a fairy's paradise to be. The red glow was coming from larger than life mushrooms that surrounded the perimeter of the space. A small pond filled with fronds was nestled in the center. As I walked closer to it, I saw tiny shadows of fish darting about in the red light.
There was a path of sorts going directly from the small entrance into the pond, leading to the center of the pond where upon a tall stand there was a... A rock. An extremely ordinary looking rock.
I walked along the path, following it to where it entered the pond. I gathered my skirts and stepped into the water, where the water came up to my knees. The rock that looked so ordinary from far away, close up had red gems speckled throughout. I frowned. It looked familiar.
I untied my top and took out the necklace that Awvag had given me. The red gem at the tip was undoubtedly the same material.
"You've finally come," said a voice. I looked up from my examination of the red crystalline rock to see an ethereal figure seemingly descending from the sky. A translucent woman, dressed in flowing blue robes with her hair flowing out behind her, came down. As soon as her toe touched the water of the pond, a flash of light filled my vision. When my vision cleared, the woman was in front of me, now in the flesh.
What shocked me the most, though, was that this woman looked just like me. She was just taller and had a darker complexion. It was almost like I was staring back at myself if I were a beautiful goddess.
Now, I'm here in front of this otherworldly being in shock. "I'm sorry, but, who are you?"
The woman smiles at me. "Re'aila Nuor. Your mother is of my family, and so are you."
I laugh nervously. "We do look like we're related."
"Truth be told, I've been expecting you for a long time. I thought I'd be waiting for longer, but luckily for me your mother didn't marry another weak man like so many other daughters in the family did."
"I don't believe I understand, Lady Nuor."
"It's understandable, so far removed from everything you are. I guess I'll have to start from the very beginning, then." Re'aila walked to the edge of the pond, having a seat on one of the big stones around the pond's edge. As much as she seemed physically present, the water around her form wasn't disturbed.
"Back when I was still alive, I was Gra'marah's queen. I would've been just a little older than you are now. But was I the strongest woman around- well liked, powerful, and everything. I came into the throne as a young woman when my father passed away early and I like to think I did everything right. But as likeable as you are, there are always those who hate you for no reason at all. My opponents thought that I didn't belong anywhere near the throne considering I'm a woman. They also didn't like that I chose not to take a husband who they could manipulate and put on the throne." Her face hardens. "So they staged a coup. One night while-"
"It'll be easier this way," she says, interrupting herself and then beckoning me over. I walk over and sit on the stone next to her as she indicates. She lays her hands over mine, where they feel incredibly frigid. "Close your eyes, Selene."
As soon as I close my eyes, I'm reliving her memories.
Re'aila is alone in her private bathhouse, soaking in the fragrance of the soft and perfumed water. There are lit candles all about the hot bath, with soft moonlight streaming in through an open window illuminating the space.
With a loud bang, the door is flung open. Re'aila looks behind her to see a row of uniformed men standing menacingly at the entrance. "What is the meaning of this?"
The man at the front steps forward. "It's an embarrassment to our proud country that you're in rule. Re'aila Nuor, don't think for one second you can escape the fate of your people."
Re'aila gets up. A foamy sheet of water from the bath follows the movements of her body so that despite being naked, she's as covered as possible. Eyes narrowed, she says, "The fate of my people?"
"Just because the late King Cuno knocked up your whore of a Rebredan mother doesn't mean that you belong to the throne."
The queen stands tall, shimmering with power and indignance in the firelight. "Being of Rebredan blood is nothing to be ashamed of."
"Gra'marah would be better without her trash people, including you," he spits out. He takes another step forward, straight into a patch of moonlight. His face is grizzled and mean, and there's malicious intent etched into its every crease. He looks the queen up and down as if undressing her, as if there was a need to when they decided to ambush her during her time in the bathhouse. "If anything, it's good that she died when she did. They should all be wiped out, rats that don't belong anywhere near the rest of us pure blooded Gra'marians."
Re'aila's hands clench at her sides. It's the anger in her tone that betrays her emotion. "You dirty pigs."
"Don't worry, we have a replacement all set for you," he laughs. His face becomes serious and he growls out, "Get her."
What follows is a horrifying and intense battle. The men have come armed with weapons, but mostly to corner her into submission. They seem to have been instructed not to harm her, which she uses to her full advantage. She blasts the flames from the candles towards the men at the front, the worst victims falling down in screams with blackened and blistered skin. She throws off their aim and movement with the fragrant water, throwing well aimed punches and kicks towards the men who come closest to her.
However, there are too many of them, and in due time they've backed her into a corner. She stands with her fists up and breathing hard, cuts on her nude body streaming blood.
"Surrender, Re'aila. You're outnumbered." The ringleader is panting equally as hard. A large bruise is blossoming on his face where Re'aila's fist had connected with his face.
"I'm your queen and will be addressed at such."
But with all the men that are present, it's only inevitable that Re'aila is soon bound with her forearms completely bound behind her back. Her legs are given a similar treatment, tied so her thighs and calves are flush and when they yank her legs apart her center is completely exposed. As much as she keeps her face stony, the indignance radiates from her, being trussed up in such a way.
She's picked up and taken to the throne room, where she's met by a man sitting in the throne. Her throne.
"Welcome back, Re'aila."
The man who carried her in dumps her unceremoniously on the floor, where she gets up slowly with a groan. Now that time has passed, it seems that her adrenaline has worn off and she's now feeling the effects of her wounds.
"Jahto," she says venemously. "I should've known you were behind this stupid bid for power."
The man laughs condescendingly. He's pretty unremarkable, save for how sinister he looks. "We could've been so good, together. A power couple, as they say. But you couldn't stand the idea of that, could you?"
He walks closer to her, where she kneels on the floor naked and bound. Everything about her positioning speaks to the intense power dynamic between the two, but still she sits tall, refusing to acknowledge Jahto's upper hand. On the other hand, he seems to find pleasure in seeing her posture, thinking that she looks so vulnerable at his feet.
"I was never interested in giving up my body or my heart to you," says Re'aila, looking away.
The man named Jahto crouches down, invading Re'aila's space. He leans forward as Re'aila remains still, refusing to move out of the way. He whispers into her ear. "And look where that got you. You're still sitting naked in front of me. You should've thought twice about overlooking me, you half-Rebredan bitch."
"You didn't let me being a Rebredan bitch bother you when you were begging to fuck me," she said, impassive.
His face hardened. "Well, times change."
She yelps as, in a display of strength and dominance, he yanks her up by the rope on her arms. He roughly carries her over to the throne, putting her down and shoving open her legs. With one hand he's loosening the ties on his clothes.
The lust in his eyes is intense, smoldering as he looks down at the beautiful overthrown queen of Gra'marah. Her face is flushed with all the exhaustion of the night's happenings.
