Five soldiers rode across the plains,
At a cave they arrived.
Green light shone from far within,
So sought it, the brave five.
A pulsing power, a stone half-buried,
Beckoned, taunted, coaxed.
Til five brave men, in unison did,
Touch left hand to olden rock.
Bring. Take. Raise. Change. See.
Three princes, each, shall come to thee.
Monsters to guide kings to thrones,
To keep real monsters chained with blood and bone.
Your immortal burden cold and lonely,
Hear! Rule until the bloody finish.
For the mighty never stirred at dawn,
They burst forth at dusk,
into toothed beast’s yawn.
In the 1200 years since The End, fifty mothers in my line have passed the truth to their daughters. They passed truths of how the world was, of how the world changed, and even mythical stories of powerful romances that sparked great tragedy and war.
Those romances are dead and gone, and as the fiftieth daughter, I am determined the truths of my ancestors will die with me too.
I will be the last daughter to bury her withered mother.
But ancients pull back the bloodied curtain without warning, and I cannot unsee the hidden world revealed beyond. Sinister impossibilities lurk in this walled city. They have always existed—dusk immortals who battle and prowl, filled with menace and conflicting purpose. And they, even the dark creature I blind with my presence, must decide the fate of all.
Yet fifty mothers prepared for nightfall. They knew five kings could not win.
Now the fiftieth daughter will walk into the toothed beast’s yawn.
For the mighty never stirred at dawn… and I’m about to inherit something more monstrous than the truth.
I hooked my dirt-coated fingers on the ledge and pulled up, clawing my filthy feet into the sides of the grave that suddenly felt more like mine. I rolled across the cobblestones above and gazed at the first twinkling stars. I didn’t know much of stars, really, but from my first memories, I’d wondered why no one spoke of the darkness between them. There was so much more of it, and the stars wouldn’t be noticeable without the contrast. No one ever seemed to give the inky canvas a thought. Maybe they didn’t realize that every light was possible because of a darkness.
&
“I’ll deliver your letter now,” Toil announced. “Just remember that I’ll return with Sigil and Hex later to capture you.”
I dipped my head. “I’ll remember. Thanks for the warning.”
&
“There is no tiara fit for your head, and there is no dress that could compete. Only moonlight might dress you as you deserve if it were to touch your naked skin.”
“Why do you speak such words to me?” I whispered.
He did not answer, and as he tended to do this, I’d assumed an answer wasn’t coming and had turned to leave when King See deigned to reply. “I find myself powerless not to,” he told me.
&
"Can I help you with something? I might be late for a ball.”
He grimaced. “Yes, lady. That is exactly what I wished to speak with you about. You see, my liege… is… put out.”
“Put out where?”
“His emotions are put out. He’s upset.”
“Oh.” I nibbled on my bottom stitch. “What’s saddened him?”
“He’s less sad, Lady Patch, and more very, very extremely furious. Very extremely furious.”
&
“She blinds me, and yet I know she is my possibility.”
&
“But to be most clear, I do not seek acquaintance with you, mistress.”
“No, but that is what you will have.”
“Kings do not get told what they will have.”
...
“Kings do get told when it comes to me.”
&
“You are not a new monster, but you are a young monster sometimes,” King See said when he was as close as he dared. “Magnificent in every stitch and wonderfully wonderful. Articulate and intriguing, delightful and well-rounded, yet not monster enough to tell a king he is confined to acquaintance. Rid yourself of the notion. We are not meant for such.”
I found my voice again. “I am certainly more ancient this evening, but I will hear what you believe we are meant for, sir.” My heart thumped faster as the words left my uneven lips.
“You feel what we are meant for, Perantiqua. Soon, you will admit it to yourself. But this is what I believe—clinging to the cliff has lost its appeal since you blinded me.”
I frowned. Whatever did he mean? “So you’ll fall to your death?”
“Or fly, mistress. I will fall to my death or fly. And you will fall to your death or fly with me.”
&
“I am weary, sir. That is what I know.”
“You are mine. That is what I know. Ancients designed us for one another.”
They surely had.
“Fate doesn’t obey ancients, King See.”
He replied, “And you try to say that you are young. You are mine. Tell me I am wrong.”
“You are not wrong, sir. We are for one another. Yet part of me rejoices over any reason to deny our destiny. I should not silence that part of myself until my decision is made.”
@Jacquie Stolz
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