Dust to Dust
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Demande never thought this was the way things would turn out. Never in his long life. He should have never followed the Queen in. But she stood there with her child, their prime targets, by the entrance of the Crystal Palace, beckoning him like a mouth to a flame. And foolishly he chased after them right into the Queens grasp.
Now his hands were bound beneath the crystal floor and prostrated on his knees. He could do nothing more than lift his head to fearfully stare at a dark lustrous throne.
His compatriots of this rebellion were behind him, their steady breaths the only sound the resounded in the dull incandescent circular room.
What would happen to them?
Then, Demande heard it, from behind, distant bit distinct. The slow clicking of heels heading down towards them.
Click. Click.
Hheat rose beneath his knees and trapped hands from the once cold floor, his brows farrowed at this new rising sensation.
'She's coming!' whimpered Kaon.
What would she look like, this monster the King had wed? A gorgon? A succubus? So many names for a woman who never showered her face, who never left the protection of the palace. The Pale Lady. The White Witch-Queen.
Click. Click.
He had heard stories of this woman. Stories of how the grass wilted, the trees cracking and the mountains crumbling where ever this woman went. She seemed to burn the world she walked upon.
Click. Click.
And he could feel it. Oh, how he could it! The floor grew bright and hot -blistering his trapped hands and scorching his clothed knees and feet. Sweat began dripped from his brow and trailed into his eyes. Demande breathed laboriously as the air turned heavy and every gulp was fire. He found he do nothing but focus his breaths.
Click. Click.
The swish of a dragging gown strolled past him. As suddenly as the pain started, it ended, with nothing but his sweat dripping onto the floor to remind him of what had just transpired.
"I apologise, there is little I can do to for those who possess lesser starseeds."
Such a gentle voice. His brows drew together. This was not her, was it? No evil cackle, no gleeful monologue. With his hair plastered to his wet cheeks and brow he rose his head. And his breath was taken away.
Sitting on the lonely crystal throne was—
"You must be Demande?" the woman asked softly. The room that was dark was now lit. The walls and floors were kindled brightly. The throne now solid white as the woman who sat on it.
Skin so pale, hair whiter than snow, eyes –he saw the heavens through them.
"Y-you can't be the Queen!" stuttered his brother behind him.
She hummed in response, her slender fingers hiding her smile. "What were you expecting as Queen?"
"Do want you want with us! The people will never give up." His brother continued.
"Saffir!" Demande hissed.
Her laugh was light and lilting –Demande found himself unable to resist turning his eyes back to the Queen.
No. A Goddess.
Their King was wedded to a God! No wonder the King hid the Queen within crystal towers.
She tutted, still smiling at their prostrated forms. "And what crime have I done to deserve everyone's ire?"
Saffir struggled with his words till he finally spilled "Wiseman told us of your evil! You keep us alive to keep your youth! Enthral and brainwashed us with delusions!"
"Wiseman?"
"Yes! Wiseman! He promised us power and freedom—"
"Saffir be silent." He growled.
"Do you know who your Wiseman is." The Queen cut in. "A man who died trying to become a true Star." With a flick of her wrist Wiseman's crystal ball perched on her fingers. She let roll off her fingers where it landed with a dense thud and it rolled slowly towards him.
"Did you not know who your Wiseman was?" she asked. The crystal ball, dense and black, stopped heavily against his knee, pressing painfully. The weight of the Wiseman crystal ball was so much more than it seemed "Your Wiseman was nothing more than a lich, a star that refused to die, a phantom."
Her voice turned and Demande dared to look up. The Queens heavenly blue eyes were gone, replaced by nothing but white. "Tell me—" the Queen began as the room rippled with her power "—what should I do with you? Millions of lives were lost from so very few who were enthralled by a dead mans words to suck this very being to extend his life."
"I apologise for your extended lives. I had no idea the by-product of my powers have brought such dismay and suffering to the people of my King." The Queen stood from her throne -the room dimmed to twilight, the throne dark as night- and the pain returned in full.
Hands burned, body ablaze. Demande heard his companions wails before his ears curled and bled as the Queen approached his prone form. His own screams were silent to him, but the Queens voice boomed clearly within his mind. "Stars that are gluttonous for power always burn out quickly! And as punishment they must return what they had stolen. Wiseman has defied the Laws of Order for Chaos and has paid for his crimes. And if it is death you all wish, then so be it."
Agony centred through Demende's back as something emerged that should not.
"It is only befitting that you return the lives you have stolen, however. A lenient punishment for lesser starseed holders."
Demande felt himself lifted, the pain turned to nothing. He could not feel himself. No sound, no breaths, no beats of his heart. All except for the flutter of delicate wings as he felt the compulsion to head towards the immense star ahead of him.
No not a star. The Queen.
They were dust compared to her bright light. She burned brighter than any other light Demande could see, or any he had ever seen.
Soon Demande forgot his name, he forgot his life, his body. He burned in her light as she broke him apart, one piece at a time, one atom at a time.
After all, stars are the building blocks of life.
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No Beta!
One-shot at an impulse.