Chapter 1: Fisk (By: kittyvonkat)
I sat in a magnificently jeweled throne, 12 years old, yet anything but 12 years old. In front of me sat a banquet fit for royalty. But then again, I was royalty. I thought back to the beginning, the very beginning. The start of the tale of how I reached this mark. For a moment, I felt sorry for Avi. After all, we are twins. Anyways, the heart of it all begins with our birth.
It was the middle of winter. Two twins, a boy and a girl, bawled noisily as nursemaids tended to them. Their mother, the Queen, sat in front of a cozy fire. Her face was lined as though she hadn't slept for days. In her hands were two long knitting needles.
The baby girl stopped crying as she fell asleep. She was me. My name was Fisk. I know, I know, not much of a girl name. My twin brother was older by minutes. His name was Avi. From the moment I could walk, talk, use my hands, all that rubbish, I knew he was a weakling.
"Avi!" I called out one midsummer evening. "Let's be elite warriors!" He had agreed and we found some sticks to use as imaginary swords. To my surprise, I had soon disarmed him with some swift strokes of my stick. That was the moment I consciously realized how much better I was at everything. I found I could no longer blind my eyes to his incompetence.
Soon, we were almost 400. It was almost time to start our warrior training. I was beside myself with exuberance. Avi, meanwhile, could hardly be less indifferent. And so we began.
One night, exhausted from training, I had a strange dream. And yet, at the same time, I felt it was a sort of vision. I was skipping through a beautiful meadow. Flowers littered the ground and the grass was fresh. I laid down and stared happily at the light blue sky. Suddenly frost bit at my tentacles. The sky was a rapidly darkening shade of gray. I stood up and saw snow around the imprint of my body. In the dim light, I could just make out where my head, neck tentacles, tentacle arms, body, and tentacle legs/feet had lain just moments ago.
The sudden noise of a breaking twig made me spin around. In front of me was an aged snake-like thing. It had faded blood-red scales and the body of a serpent. I would have thought it a basilisk I had not seen the arms. When he spoke, it was like the scraping of two wooden blocks.
"In two there will be three.
Within one the enemy.
Within one one of our own.
Within one a spirit we've never known.
Both must live to oppose the other
And neither must take the throne."
At this, I woke up, drenched in cold sweat. A prophecy? About Avi and me? But we weren't special in any way! Or...were we?
Hurriedly, I dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. Today was sausage, toast, bagel, bacon, and pancakes. I wolfed down the food in the beginning, but eventually I slowed and enjoyed the meal. I excused myself and prepared to tell Avi. I spotted him walking down one of the castle hallways.
"Avi! Avi!" I called after him. "I have something to tell you." He listened raptly as I described the snake thing and what it had said. Then he spoke, "I had a similar dream! Instead of that monster, it was a pretty two-legged creature. It had tiny tentacles on the end of a long one!" We exchanged little bits of information on our dream creatures. Then the midmorning bells tolled and we rushed off to our seperate training lessons.
I shall skip over details of the many sessions I endured. The clearest part of the torment is my confusion. Confusion about Sepretranians, or Serpentine. Morunga, my mentor, taught me they were formidable fighters. They loved bloodshed and often times killed each other for fun.
"But," I asked one day. "Why are they blamed for everything?" Morunga said it was because they were evil demons. He showed me a sketch of one. I recognized it as the creature from my dream and burst out crying. Morunga tried to comfort me, to no avail, and ended up sending me to my room for rest. That was the last discussion I had about the mysterious Serpentine with Morunga.
I wondered what the Sepretranians were like. Did they train young ones, as we, the Omacronians, did? Or were they all born with that special fighting talent? I immersed myself in books from the library whenever I had spare time. Soon I had learned about all sorts of battles fought with them, how they mourned their dead, their ways of killing, and more. Yet none of these books had what I was looking for. I wanted a non-biased book about the Sepretranians. My obsession with them became noticeable to Avi. I often told him that the books I found and believed, at first sight, to be treasure, "should have been put to folly long ago". Through my studies of the Serpentine, I found my calling.
I realized I didn't have to be a warrior princess. Only Avi was required to become a warrior because he was the successor to the throne. Slowly, I saw that Avi's life was somewhat that of a caged animal's. I felt sorry for him, but brushed that aside in favor of the upcoming event: a hearing with the Supreme Zelafarous Council of Omacron. This was because I wished to become a diplomat.
Flaga, leader of the Zelafarous Ones, faced me. He had the looks of an old man, albeit a kind looking one. "Fisk, are you sure about this? Do you know what it means to follow the path of a diplomat?"
"To follow the path of a diplomat," I said sarcastically. Flaga seemed both amused and disapproving. Avi, sitting in the stands, gave me a thumbs-up gesture. Flaga saw I was not to be swayed at once. Nonetheless, he continued with the hearing.
"Are you, Fisk, willing to forfeit all your warrior training, weapons, and uniform for those of a diplomat? Ready to become a mage of words and speeches rather than a tiger on the battlefield?"
"Yes." I hoped desperately that none of them would ask me why. Flaga gave me a searching look, then nodded to his fellow Council members.
"Fisk of the Royal Family is hereby a diplomat!" Flaga declared. The hearing was over. I was a diplomat. Soon, I would know everything about the Sepretranians.
Centuries passed. Things had been peaceful. Avi and I had adjusted to our lives, ignorant of the approaching threat. I had never spoken with the Serpentine because they rarely consorted with us. That was a bit of a disappointment, but at least I had the people and Avi to be there.
There was a sharp knock at my bedroom door. A moment later, it burst open. In the doorway stood an out-of-breath girl. At a glance, I figured she was a messenger.
"Your Majesty," she panted. "Avi sends news of war between the Serpentine and us." The girl handed me a note from him and left. I flicked open the note and read, "The Sepretranians will be most difficult to beat. But if we work together, we can do it."
Avi wished us to fight the Sepretranians very much. He thought we could do it and that it was the only way.
I paced around my study. What should I do? Take up arms against a race I admired and feared with Avi's group, the Avi Society, or surrender? Surrender was no option. Nor was fighting. I steeled myself for what I had known I would do the moment I read Avi's plea for help. I would create an alliance.
I dressed in black clothes and pulled a cowl low over my face. As an extra precaution, I smudged soot and ash over my cheeks. I snuck out to the stable with no difficulty and mounted a sturdy battlehorse by the name of Shadow. He was black, which can only be taken as a bonus.
We reached the Sepretranian settlement without any incident. I dismounted and tied Shadow. On foot, I journeyed the last ten miles and came confidently up to the sentry.
"I wish to speak with your leader." I tried to make myself sound haughty and important. The Serpentine gave me a suspicious look. "No."
"Oh, so lowlife rankers like you make decisions now?" I pushed past into the camp and made myself heard. "I want to speak to the leader of this pathetic place, now, and I wish to have a private place to speak!"
The shocked Serpentine ushered me into their leader, Zakuru,'s tent. Zakuru was a silvery blue snake with muscular arms and long, pointed fangs.
"Welcome," he hissed. I nodded in return. "What did you come here for? You Omacroniansssss alwayssss have sssssome demand or another."
"I wish to negotiate an alliance," I said briskly. "Between myself and you. Don't hurt any Omacronians and I promise many things. For starters, I'm royalty. I could get you all an estate as large as ten of the nobles' put together." Zakuru narrowed his eyes. "What else do you assssk of ussss? That isss no sssssmall matter." I shrugged noncommitally. "Work for me. That's it. Send word tomorrow."
With that, I turned on my heel and left.
My idea was a success. I ordered them to look like they were retreating and hide. Then, I thought about the offers I made them. To fulfill those, I needed to be the Queen. I had to dispose of Avi, no matter what. My best chance was to poison him. I took out my fanciest pink paper and pasted on jewels, ribbons, and other unnecessary things. Then I wrote the invitation and sent it.
Avi arrived on time and he actually believed this was a get together party. The idiot. I ordered my servant, Malleta, to fetch the mango juice. On the pretense of pouring Avi a glass of mango juice, I slipped in three drops of the poison. Avi was definitely dead.
He lifted the glass to his lips. The liquid inched closer and closer to his throat.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" An ear-splitting scream cut across my eardrums. Avi dropped the glass, where it shattered into dust on the floor. I myself nearly choked on my dinner. Glancing up, I saw Malleta faint and the shriek vanished instantly. The traitor! I excused myself and paced the room, thinking. I went to bed soon after.
The next day, Malleta was found dead. No one knew how or why she had been killed, but it seemed like an accident. Avi and Flaga went for a chat over tea. When I heard about it, I prepared myself. I raced down to where they were having tea with a few other lords and ladies.
"Why did you do it?" I said to Avi, making my voice break in a distraught way.
"Are you feeling okay, Fisk?" he confusedly asked. I let out a sob. "Why did you kill poor Malleta?" Everyone was staring at him.
"Execute him!" cried Lady Manara. "This is a crime worthy of death!"
"No, please!" I begged. "Don't kill him!" Flaga spoke.
"Avi will be banished for this crime then." Lords Silana, Filex, and Landon muttered a bit but did not object.
I kept on a gloomy expression. Avi came over and gave me a hug. The fool. "You're not alone," he whispered. Avi then pulled away. Flaga murmured an incantation, and Avi was gone.
Soon after, I was officially crowned Queen Fisk. I had much spare time in my hands, so I decided to work on something I had almost forgotten. The prophecy.
In two there will be three. Well the two was Avi and me. The three must be the spirits. Within one the enemy. Sepretranians, obviously. I felt a sudden chill go down my back. I seemed to like the Serpentine more then I should. Within one one of our own. An Omacronian spirit. But who had it? Within one a spirit we've never known. I gave up on that one. Both must live to oppose each other. What if I had succeeded in killing Avi? What then? And neither must take the throne. Too late. Maybe the prophecy did not refer to us. Maybe it was one that did not have to be fulfilled. I pushed it to the back of my mind and went to bed.
I ordered the Serpentine to find the Fountain of Youth. They did, and I was most pleased with my fresh new body. It was strong, agile, and nothing like the bag of bones I was before. It was time to reveal my alliance. Time for me to rule both Omacron and Sepretrania, where the Sepretranians lived. My empire began.
Now, I wonder if I should not have done those things. I know the full prophecy now. I am the one with two. Sepretranian and Omacronian. Avi had a human in him. I let the Sepretranian inside of me take over the moment I allied with them. A possesion. That is what I think, at least. Whatever it is, I would see Avi again to face him. A beacon in the darkness threatening to engulf me.
I would see Avi again.
Chapter 2: Avi (By:cylontealc)
I sit in a shabby, broken armchair, twelve years old yet anything but twelve years old. Sitting here, peaceful and human, I can almost forget 660 million years of betrayal, mistrust and treachery. 660 million years ago- the day that Fisk and I were born-comes to mind, though I remember little if not none of my early years.
It was the darkest night of winter. Two babies were born into the royal family, the lineage of the throne of the planet Omacron. I was one, and Fisk, my sister, was the other. Memories of those reckless playtimes make me long for the peaceful nothingness that one feels when too young to think for oneself. Although she won every play-warrior game, Fisk seemed envious of my being first born and the fact that one day, I would seize control because of the Omacronian tradition of the son taking the throne.
Time passed in a haze. The warm tentacles of our parent hugged us tight throughout childhood. Thousands of seasons passed by in a blur, until finally a day of importance arose. All of a sudden, strong memories emerged from those weak ones of my young years. Childish fantasies became vivid, real adventures the day I began to train. Fisk and I, naturally, both chose the path of a warrior.
Settling into sleep after my first session of training, I drifted into a calm dream. Lying in a serene meadow, I felt compelled to play among its tall grass, to chase leaves like a child. But before I could move a tentacle, a smooth voice sweet as honey filled my ears.
"In two there will be three. Within one, the enemy. Within one, a strong spirit of one of our own. In one, a spirit we've never known. Both must live to oppose the other and neither must take the throne." I stared at the speaker. She was beautiful, like the gold-flecked leaves of autumn, and her hair was golden and vibrant as the sun. She walked and two feet and had milky pale skin. Then I woke.
"Avi!" An all-too-familiar voice called me to consciousness. Fisk's eyes were wide with wonder. For a moment, I could see the meadow reflecting in those black eyes. "I had such a dream Avi!" Fisk whispered in awe. Fisk explained the exact same dream: the meadow, the urge to play, and the "prophecy," as she called it. The only difference was the speaker. In her dream, a Sepreterranian had come to her. The Sepreterranians were and still are the ancient serpentine enemies of the Omacronian race.
More time passed, in which Fisk and I swarmed the library constantly, researching the origins of our dream. However, Fisk was soon distracted by books and scrolls and even old news articles about the Sepreterranians. She often spoke of "putting to folly" the general suspicion of the Sepreterranians from our species. She even spoke of wishing to speak with them, to make diplomatic negotiations, to work out our differences. I urged her otherwise. Yet one day, she chose to stand before the Supreme Zelafarous Court and change her path to a diplomat.
Loyal as I was, I went to watch.
"Do you know what it means to follow the path of a diplomat?" a tall, balding Omacronian of the Zelafarous Court asked, whom I later later learned his name was Flaga.
Fisk glared in rebellion "To follow him home?" She smirked
"You are not helping your case, Miss Fisk,"
Fisk seemed lost for words, but then she replied defiantly, "Am I not royalty?"
Ever since Fisk exchanged her flowy, pale warrior's skirts for a stiff, blue, uniform diplomat's jacket, the two of us trained and trained. I became a full warrior years before Fisk became a diplomat. Once again, years passed, years which I thought were exciting but were nothing compared to the grim future.
One day the Sepreterranians came, and there was war. It was brutal. Hostile Sepreterranians threatened to seize the throne. I was ushered back, restlessly protected and constantly checked for wounds, of course, being the heir to the throne. We won the first battle, but the war was clearly lost. Unless...
We were a meager few, barely twenty of us total. Our motives were well planned and executed. We would tell everyone, every Sepreterranian, every living creature in the galaxy how omnipotent and indomitable the Omacronians are. Our lies were loyal, for no creature would dare challenge the bringers of destruction- the harbingers of doom.
A Serpentine patrol loomed ahead. My teammates trembled with fear. My tentacles clenched.
"Go away. You are outnumbered."
"We are indestructible." rasped an army green Sepreterranian with metallic scales.
"Really? Why not ask the Deivren. They'll tell you." The Deivren were a vicious species the Sepreterranians had warred with before- and lost. A few years ago, their sun had expanded and consumed their planet. In truth, the Omacronians had done all they could to help the Deivren. They recoiled. "Yep, a formidable enemy. It took us several battles to defeat them." I continued, more confident.
"Liessss," The green Sepreterranian hissed.
"It's true!" His comerade exclaimed "That planet was destroyed years ago!"
"You outnumber us for now, but we'll be back." rasped the green Serpentine. The patrol retreated rather quickly, leaving us panting.
It lasted over a quarter of a lifetime, but suddenly, the war was over.
I was welcomed warmly back into the palace, but Fisk never spoke to me once. But one day, I received a letter studded with jewels and pale pink bows inviting me to a banquet. That was typical Fisk, always over-the-top.
As the sun set that afternoon, I entered the dining hall, which was decorated with fine jewels and ribbons. Accepting a glass of mango juice from Fisk, I shared friendly conversation with Flaga. But just as the sweet taste was abot to meet my lips, a hash shriek sliced the air. Shards of my glass littered the floor. Mango juice oozed like blood. Fisk stood up and excused herself. Malletta, the servant that had cried out, seemed on the verge of tears. The next day, Malletta was found dead.
"Avi!" Fisk screamed.
"Are you alright Fisk?" I was utterly befuddled
"You killed poor Malletta!" Her shrill cry echoed and the room became silent.
Lady Manara cleared her throaght."I suggest execution."
"Please-don't kill him!" Fisk begged.
"You're not alone," I whispered.
So, decided by the Supreme Zelafarous Court, I was banished. White light surrounded and then I was gone.
Now, many an Omacronian wonder what it is like to be banished. In truth, it's rather dull. I walk on two legs now, never to be a true Omacronian again. Wars passed,meaningless human civil wars. Realizations dawned on me. It was was Fisk the whole time. I thought she was watching my back, but it was her I should have been watching out for. My last words on Omacron were "You're not alone." What a fool I was.
Suddenly, the prophecy came to mind. In two there will be three. That must mean me and Fisk. Within one, the enemy. The enemy must be the Sepreterranians. And Fisk had always sympathized with them. Maybe she has the spirit of a Sepreterranian. Within one, a strong spirit of one of our own. Perhaps that is Fisk as well, seeing as she has al the power and is the Omacronian at current time. Within one, a spirit we've never known. I pondered this awhile, when I realized that this must mean the two legs-the humans!
I am a human.
I am the "spirit we've never known"
I must face Fisk, if I die trying.
Neither of us can rule Omacron.
I must face FIsk.