Rolanth, the Elementals City.
Mirabella snarled, her black hair fanning around her, a complete and utter mess. Sara Westwood seemed to shrink in size, watching the indescribable power that the young girl possessed. The Castle seemed to shake, the earth trembling. The girl still showed no signs of failure. Sara remembered the last elemental queen, kindly and shy. Mira was the exact opposite. Blasphemy. It's Blasphemy. No Queen should have this strong a reaction to being separated from her sisters; it only indicated love. And love was an emotion a queen should not feel.
"Queen Mirabella," Sara began calmly, thinking of the coolness of the elements to protect her. The girl turned to her, a strange look on her face. "Queen. Would you like to meet my daughter? She would like to meet you." She squeaked, gesturing towards the door behind them. The Older woman hated to admit it, but she was afraid of this girls raw power. And she was confident. Confident that the next Queen on the throne would be an elemental.
She is like a different girl. She laughs and plays with her, seeming like a child and not an enraged queen. Sara suspects that it is in fact an escape for her, an escape from the pain of losing her siblings. Though she should not feel sympathy, she cannot help it. They are family, and they will always be family.
It is clear that she is not cruel, or unkind. Mirabella possesses power, but she doesn't see herself as inferior, as some Queens did. Like Camille. Like all the poisoner queens. The Arron Family tainted the throne, made it bitter and unfair.
They have reigned for hundreds of years.
It is time for a new era.
A new world.
Wolf Spring, the Naturalist's city.
Katharine bundled her rags tightly, silent tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Caragh Milone looked at her with a pitiful expression, but said nothing. A girl clutched the woman's hands, a beautiful girl with two different coloured eyes; haunting and alluring. She gave Katharine cold looks every now and again, seemingly agitated by her crying. The Queen sniffed, hiding herself with her ebony hair. Just having it was a reminder of her sisters. Her whole appearence was just a reflection of them.
Oh, her sisters! How she didn't understand, didn't care why they had been separated! She just needed them; Arsinoes unwavering loyalty, Mirabellas clammy hands.
It was twilight. The young queen stared at the darkness rapidly approaching the house, the quaint little cottage on the beach. She had no words, and had no thoughts. Her eyes just blurred, from the tears or from something else, she didn't know.
"Queen Katharine." A voice echoed out through the quiet room, steady and clear. Katharine blinked, tugging her blanket more tightly over her. There was a chill in the air, something that couldn't be replicated by an Elemental. Something that she wished she didn't have to feel.
"Queen Katharine," She repeated, now sounding a little more human. "Do you know my name?" The girl asked, clambering out of her bed.
"You're Jullienn-"
"No!" She grimaced, memories edging into her head. "I'm Jules. That's my name."
Katharine nodded slowly, ashamed to admit that this girl intimidated her with her fierce energy. But she wasn't mean. She wasn't cruel.
Maybe she could be my friend.
Greavesdrake Manor, the Arron's home.
Arsinoe studies her new home with wide eyes, taking in the finery and expensive furniture. It is so unlike the cottage that she was in until a couple of hours ago, and she cannot decide whether it is better than it or not. She refuses to think about her sisters, about what they're doing. I'll see them again. Willa said so. The woman, Natalia, takes her to her bedroom. She tells her of her gift, of the beauty of resisting death when others cannot. That she is powerful, and that she will sit on the throne. The throne? I thought we all did.
Later that night, she is taken to a dark chamber. It is haunted by screams of torment, and drunken ramblings. Things that a child should not have to hear. Arsinoe keeps a blank face, but inside, a flower of fear is blossoming.
"Your gift has come, Queen Arsinoe. You can ingest and resist poisons. The midwife told me that." She hands the girl a glass of something extremely pungent- a deep, crimson red. "Drink. I want to know she's not lying." Her voice was bitter, tinged with cruelty. Reluctantly, she took the glass of acrid liquid and tilted it, swallowing immediately. Natalia looked pleased, as much as she could. The only background noise was a incessant humming, clearly coming from some half mad lunatic. They could have been standing there for ten minutes or an hour, but eventually, the Arron smiled. "So your gift has come." She gently reached out, touching a lock of dark hair. Arsinoe frowned, but let her do so. She wasn't an idiot; she knew the woman had gave her poison. But she also knew that it wouldn't kill her or harm her.
"You're a poisoner." Natalia whispered in the dirty air that surrounded them. She leaned in close to the young girls ear, dangerously close. "Poisoners poison." Arsinoe shivers, a feeling of being engulfed in pure ice overwhelming her for a second. This woman- Natalia- is not a kindly person, is the mirror opposite to Willa. She does not feel safe, does not comfort her, does not hold her hand. She doesn't hurt her either. Her energy, her very aura is cold and stiff, infecting her eerie beauty. Maybe that is what enhances it.
The screams worsen. They turn gargled, throats full with blood and phglem. A nightmare. Though she does not cower or whimper, Arsinoe finds herself moving slowly towards Natalia, like a magnet gravitating towards metal.
They stop, and the screaming stops too. There is light here, tinged red. It casts a sinister shadow on the faded walls and the rusty bars, on the still figures keeled over, muttering over and over and over. Natalia smiles, a horrible, enchanting smile, and withdraws a key. In a second, they are inside a cramped room, the stench of death lingering everywhere. A man, ragged and dirty, lays on the floor, clearly bruised. Arsinoe stares with wide eyes, the sight of violence unbearablely new to her. All around them are jars and vials, full to the brim with colourful powders and concoctions. It is oddly beautiful, these instruments of suffering. Natalia walks silently to a drawer, her heels the only sound in the room. She takes something out that the Queen cannot see, and then walks back over. Her steps are regal, her body poised and elegant. She really is the height of sophistication.
"You know what you are here for, don't you?" She hisses, her eyes fixed on the man. He shakes, but says nothing. This seems to please her. Slowly and excruciatingly, she pulls the cap off of the object in her hand, letting it gleam and shimmer.
Poison. It's poison.
Arsinoe watches in shock, the whole room swaying, as the Arron tilts the prisoners head back. Pours the vile looking mixture down his throat. Watches him choke and convulse and cry, and groan, and scream...
I am a poisoner.
I poison.
