Epilogue
PRINCESS PRESTIRA TIADOA
Being a Highland princess was a lonely ordeal. Though my mother was a "free spirit" and encouraged me to make friends outside of the castle, I couldn't bring myself to do it. A princess had her place, and it was not with the commoners on the street. That was why my only friend was my cousin, Adrianna Straltaira. Adri's mom was a really busy woman, being the ambassador to Alkandra, so Adri spent most of her time living with her grandma, Great-Aunt Lydia, just a few doors down from my bedroom. Adri was never allowed to leave the castle, and I never wanted to, so it was perfect. We were like sisters. I didn't find it weird that her skin was dark, one of her eyes was black, and her hair was half black and half blonde. She had pointy ears and one blue eye, and so she was just like me as far as I was concerned. It wasn't until later that our differences became more important.
When Adri turned twelve, she moved in with her mother at Alkandra. I didn't know why at the time, but I got the feeling it had something to do with the way Adri was starting to look at me. That didn't matter to a younger me. All that mattered was that my best and only friend had been taken away from me. From that point on, we only saw each other once or twice a year, and each time she felt more and more like a stranger to me. She got tattoos that frightened me, told stories that disgusted me, and acted with such a blithe attitude that I wondered if she cared about anything at all besides sex and drugs. What had that place done to her?! As if I needed more reasons to hate Alkandra. Mother was always galled that I harbored such ill-will to the nation of monsters, though she was very private about her opinions. I understood that she was afraid of some of her advisors, mostly the mages that always seemed to be lurking around the corners. It galled me equally that she didn't hold our enemy with as much contempt as I did, but I supposed it made sense considering her...
complicated
past.
It had been twenty years since the end of the second Alkandran War. I was an astute student of history; I knew that such an end was no ending at all. Mother always told me that the Highland Kingdom and the Dark Queen could not coexist, and she was right, of course. The Dark Queen (or as I knew her, Aunt Leveria) had finally broken the back of the Highland economy, and Mother had no choice but to raise the army, and march east. Many feared that the soldiers were marching to their end, but that fear bore more hope in it than Bentius had felt for decades. A pervading sense of doom had infested every nook and cranny of my beloved city. It wasn't until it was lifted during the first days of the war, that I realized its existence. For the first time in my life, I saw the people of the Highlands raise their heads in pride and pound their chests, and I couldn't help but be swept up in the national fervor. Something was finally happening!
Mother had always been a bubbly and cheerful woman. When I was a child, I thought she was the best person in the world, but as a teenager and a young adult, I came to see her more and more as a ditzy fool. I sometimes doubted the stories Auntie had told me. How could
Mom
possibly do all those things?! She was... well, she was
Mom.
This was the woman who had been successfully harried and cornered by a mouse during a diplomatic meeting with the Drastin representatives. This was the woman who got drunk off of one glass of wine, then tried to play strip-poker with me—her own daughter! This was the woman who used the throne room as an archery range because 'well, it's not like I'm using it for governing!' No, I could simply not believe the stories I'd heard about her. The doomsday-bringer from hell who singlehandedly took Castle Thorum, vaporized the Mid Fort causeway, and brought the Highlands to its knees was not...
Mom.
But then I saw her give a speech on the balcony of the castle. Never in my life had I seen her engulfed in such passion. She roused the crowd with proclamations of our greatness, invigorated them with premonitions of victory, and awed them with a display of magic I never thought possible from her. Fire wreathed her head, telekinetic shockwaves shot from her chest, and her voice resonated in everyone's minds, speaking with such confidence and strength. I was on my feet and applauding with the rest of Bentius, so assured in our victory against the Alkandrans that I was ready to pick up a sword myself.
"Mom, that was amazing!" I cried as she stepped from the balcony.
She winked back at me. "I told you I was a badass. Now," she walked past me, and fumbled through her purse, "where is my ass-kissing lipstick... ah, there it is. Prestira, be a dear and leave the room."
"What? Why?"
"Because Mommy has grown-up things to do."
"I'm eighteen!"
"And I'm thirty-nine, so I win. Nana-nana-boo-boo, stick your head in dog doo. Now get out."
"No."
She turned around, and glared at me. "Prestira, I'm not fucking around. Get out, or I'll make you get out."
"We're about to
go to war, Mom!
If you can't treat me like an adult now, when can you?!"
Her features softened somewhat, and she sighed. "Fine," she smiled, "I guess it was selfish of me to enjoy the one time you haven't been ashamed of me in the last ten years."
"Don't be like that."
She shook her head, and turned toward the mirror. "Try not to judge me too harshly for this, Prestira." She reached out, and touched the glass. A second later, the Dark Queen's wicked portrait swam into view.
"Well, well, well..." Aunt Leveria chuckled sardonically, "just like old times, eh, sis? Ah, and I see you already put on your ass-kissing lipstick."
"Yeah?!" I yelled, "Well, you better put on your ass-
kicking
lipstick, because we are going to kick your ass!"
Aunt Leveria blinked. "Prestira, baby, that was so terrible. Yavara, why is she here?"
Mom held out her hands helplessly. "I couldn't get her to leave. What was I supposed to do, throw her out?"
"Yes, you weak little woman."
"Not all of us are 'strong' enough to execute our own daughters."
"When you fertilize a thousand fields, a few bad seeds are inevitable. Now, shall we get down to business?"
"Sure." Mom said, waving like she didn't care.
Aunt Leveria paged through her notes, and hummed contemplatively. "My army outnumbers yours fifty to one. They are better equipped, better trained, and better supported. Five of your generals have been paid to switch sides the moment the battle starts, and your field marshal is a drunk. Need I say more?"
"No." Mom grumbled.
"So... are we still doing this then?"
"Might as well tear the band-aid off."
"Cool." Aunt Leveria touched her mirror a few times, then fished around her desk, and pulled out a hand mirror. She watched it for a few minutes, then put it down. "Your army was just surrounded. Your men have laid down their arms, and your field marshal tried to kill himself. The vampires got to him before he could bleed out."
"Oh, good." Mom sighed, "So, no losses?"
"Looks like one of your men died of typhoid in the barracks, but no casualties on the field. A bloodless engagement discounting the field marshal's attempt."
"Poor Krakis," Mom muttered, "I hope he gets the help he needs. Alright, so now what?"
"WHAT?!" I screamed. I'd been in such disbelief of what I was hearing that I couldn't summon my mouth to form words before.
Mom turned around and scowled at me. "Prestira, we're in the middle of something, could you not interrupt?" She turned back to Aunt Leveria, "How shall we proceed then?"
"Ambassador Straltaira will be teleported to you shortly. She'll fill you in on the details." Aunt Leveria quirked her lips, "She fought very hard on your behalf, Yavara. I wanted you to surrender to me in the arena, but she negotiated it down to just the throne room."
"
WHAT?!
" I shrieked.
Aunt Leveria smirked at me. "I always told your mother she sheltered you too much. She wanted to raise you like how our mother raised us, but perhaps she should've raised you like how our father raised me."
"The thought crossed my mind a few times," Mom muttered, "mostly when I was drunk."
Aunt Leveria giggled. "I love how disgusting you are. I can't wait to see you, little sis." She palmed the mirror, and her image disappeared.
I flitted my eyes from the mirror, to my mom. "Mom, what is going on?!"
Mom turned around, a rueful smile on her face. "Wars are won or lost decades before they are fought. We lost this war twenty years ago, Prestira. Aunt Leveria has been biding her time, countering my every move until my only option was to attack her. She knew this. I knew this. It had to be done this way, for the Highlands would never surrender until surrender was the only course left. Now, finally, we can have peace."
Before I could even think of how to respond to that, there was a flash of green light, and two figures appeared in the portal. Though they were twenty years apart in age, they looked like they could've been sisters. Though one of them had streaks of black in her blonde hair while the other was pure platinum, both their skin-tones were a caramelly bronze, and both their bodies were sleek and athletic, displayed like trophies in their scanty clothes. Each of them were tattooed all the way to their chins in tribal designs, but I still thought of them as more elf than beast. Auntie Elena, and her daughter and my cousin, Adri.
"Auntie! Adri!" I yelled, and ran to them. They took me into their arms and embraced me, and I vented into their shoulders. "Auntie, what is going on?!" I sniffled, "Mom talked to Aunt Leveria, and she s-s-s-said that the army had s-s-s-surrendered a-a-a-and that y-y-y-you were coming here t-t-t-to—"
"Shh, Prestira." Auntie said reassuringly, holding me tightly, "It'll all make sense soon. You'll be OK. Everything will be OK." She kissed me atop the head, then released me, leaving me with Adri.
"Adri, what's happening?" I hissed.
Adri held me at arm's length, and looked me over. "God, when was the last time we saw each other?" She gasped.
"I don't know. Two years ago?"
She beamed at me. "When did you get so fucking
