Sybil had never felt such terror.
Not even as she watched Levana rot away from the pestilence, not even as she stumbled into countless corpses in the palace catacombs.
(no don't look at me you're scary let me out let me out let me out)
The picture was much too vivid to be a dream. She could hear every scream and plea for help, and could feel warm blood trickling down her throat. She was tied to what seemed like a stake, her parents and brothers lying dead around her, their organs and limbs sprawled around like confetti. A faceless figure stood before her, forcing a goblet full of her family's blood to her lips. The taste of iron was the most vile thing that had ever assaulted her tongue, even worse than Aimery's cooking.
(oh god it's so thick so hot so gross I think I'm gonna be sick please help me please stop oh god)
She couldn't see anything outside of her mind's eye, nothing in reality. She couldn't see Levana's face, as white as a sheet as she twisted Sybil's mind deeper into the nightmare, with no remorse. Levana had never envisioned such a feeling—absolute control, absolute power. She watched with glee as Sybil writhed on the floor, gripping her hair at the root, as if she were about to tear it out.
(oh yes it hurts doesn't it scream for me I want to hear your pain doesn't it hurt)
Having grown bored, Levana released the thaumaturge's mind. Sybil immediately curled up on herself, her sobs dwindling to whimpers. Her skin was feverish and her body trembled, beads of sweat running down the nape of her neck.
"Now, Sybil, what do you say when I ask you who is the most beautiful?"
"You, Your Highness," Sybil managed to croak, brushing back her damp hair.
"Your Majesty," Levana corrected, her bloodstained cheeks flushing with anger. "I am the queen now; you shall address me as such, and I advise that you tell your comrades to do the same."
Sybil whimpered, wrapping her arms around her chest. "My Queen…"
Levana smiled. "That's much better." Her gaze spanned around the guard's room, at Evret's corpse, at the remains of the mirror on the floor.
(you're so ugly you're hideous you monster you demon you MURDERER)
"Have this room blocked off from the rest of the guard and get rid of the body as soon as possible," Levana spat, gripping Sybil's mind and forcing her to her feet. The thaumaturge moaned. "And see to it that Sir Westerguard is upgraded to captain."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Sybil rasped, cringing in pain.
Levana picked up a tiny piece of the mirror's broken glass, her lips curling in disgust. Tears nearly welled in her eyes, but she managed to stamp them down.
(oh so disgusting how can you stand yourself you're so ugly you should just die)
"I want every single mirror in the palace destroyed. Smash them, throw them in the lake, in the catacombs―I don't care, just get them out of my sight. I want every mirror in Artemisia gone, do you hear me? Every. Single. One." She threw the shard away, her eyes mad and wild and feral. "Have all the windows and glass replaced with non-reflective material. I don't ever want to see my reflection!" she roared, her nostrils flaring.
Sybil wiped her tears away on her sleeve. "Is that…is that even possible?"
Levana cocked her head again, like a wooden puppet. "I don't care if it isn't possible―make it possible."
"And if it can't be done?"
Levana smirked, a sick grin that made Sybil's stomach twist in knots. "Then my palace shall have no windows or balconies at all."
"Your Majesty, if I may, you've been quite absent from this week's meetings," Thaumaturge Marles said, standing in the doorway of what was now Levana's study. The windows were indeed replaced with the same non-reflective material that the domes were made of. All the portraits were gone, the white wallpaper replaced with a violet print.
The regent sat at her new desk, made of polished mahogany instead of glass. "Oh, let the court fret all they want. I'm still on sick leave."
The thaumaturge cleared his throat, the black sleeves of his coat billowing around his wrists. "They insist that you attend today, and that would be most wise―they are becoming quite agitated."
Levana sighed. "Of course they are."
The meeting was held in throne room, per usual. Nothing had really changed―the chandeliers still sparkled, the court still looked grotesque in their multicoloured hairdos and excessively lavish outfits. They looked like aliens straight from Mars. Levana had always hated them. The marble throne was much comfier than Levana had imagined, fit for a lunar queen. It made the court's inane chatter just a little more bearable.
"I'm afraid that your sister's excessive spending has depleted a lot of Artemisia's finances," Hermann Lofter said, standing before the regent, sharp in a grey suit and black mantle. "The city council is in fits, Your Majesty. Should the public find out about this, the results could be disastrous." He cleared his throat. "And as you know, both Luna's economical and political stability are hanging in the balance."
Levana leaned back, her gloved hands folded in her lap. "I am well aware of the council's concerns. Do the outer sectors have any complaints?"
"No, at least for the moment―Elathia has been helping with their food and water supply. Duchess Gwendolyn is pressed for funds, though. She has been awaiting your orders."
"Well, until we manage to scrape up the money, she'll have to wait," Levana said. "I propose that we establish some new taxes―the citizens of Artemisia can certainly afford it."
"But even with tax revenue, the other city-states would be suffering," Hermann continued. "They would only be able to sustain themselves for a decade or so before people start to starve. That's why the majority of us support Queen Channary's search for an earthen alliance."
Levana arched an eyebrow. "An earthen alliance."
"Yes." The majority of the court nodded at Hermann's reply. "There are many possibilities, of course―Emperor Rikan of the Eastern Commonwealth would very much like your signature of the treaty of Bremen."
"You've spoken to him?"
"Just last night, Your Majesty."
She smiled. "And what did he say?"
"He is willing to speak to you over a video-link."
Levana stood, gripping the arm of the throne―her throne. "Tell him that I would love to discuss an alliance with him." She crossed her arms over her chest. "But I refuse to go over vid-link. If he wants to speak to me, it's going to have to be face-to-face."
The trip had taken two days.
Try as she may, Levana couldn't conceal her jitters as the ship blasted through space, closer and closer to the blue planet. She had never left the moon. She had never left home. It was a whole new experience; a whole new world. She knew that she should've been happy―this was her dream, she had always wanted to come, it was finally happening.
(oh so beautiful it glows so much and look at all the trees the air's so clean oh my)
But she didn't. She didn't feel happy. She didn't feel elated. If anything, she was afraid. Afraid of all these new people, people that she didn't know how to control. She supposed that their minds were the same as her kind's―Saito's had felt the same as any other that Levana had encountered. But maybe he was different. Maybe the people of Earth knew of her coming, and they were waiting for her at the landing pad with torches and pitchforks. Maybe they would be so many, so far between, that controlling them was impossible. Maybe they would go and trample her like a herd of cattle.
The only thing that calmed her nerves was the assurance that her visit was unknown to the public. They had no idea that she was coming. They had no idea that the queen of their enemies was setting foot on their soil. Emperor Rikan had insisted on keeping their rendezvous a secret. Levana couldn't help but comply.
When Sybil had popped her head into the regent's quarters at half-past noon, Levana felt like her heart was going to tear its way out of her chest. They had arrived. The ship's engine had been cut off, the faint daylight pouring in through Levana's drawn curtains. Her crew was in fits at the prospect of seeing the planet for the themselves, hardly paying any attention to their nervous ruler. Levana stood at the helm of the ship, counting down the seconds until the hatch would open and she would take her first gulp of real air.
(ah so cold so crisp I love it)
Impatience clawed at her spine as the ramp descended slowly, so slow, as if to infuriate her. Sybil stood in front with her own guard, both frozen like statues. Levana wished her own body into stillness.
Finally, Sybil and the guard glided down the ramp, seeming completely unfazed by the new world around them. Levana quickly followed, gripping the ramp's rail as if it were a lifeline, afraid that even the slightest thing would make her trip and fall.
(keep it still keep it steady it's just a ramp you'll be fine don't be a klutz)
The first thing that she saw was a ball of light, so bright, burning her irises. Her left hand covered her eyes instantly. She let out a little whimper; even behind the darkness, they stung. It took her a moment to recover, and she took a deep breath before uncovering her face, bringing her gloved hand back to her side. It was a little better this time―she blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust to the bright daylight.
"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" a second thaumaturge asked, coming up behind her.
"Yes, I'm fine," she croaked. "Just give me a minute."
The thaumaturge nodded, a silent agreement. Levana's gaze spanned the landing pad and the gardens surrounding it as she walked down the rest of the way. A quaint little pond sparkled at the bottom of the terrace's steps, across from the ship. Levana imagined wading in it, wetting her hair, cooling her skin―until the cold autumn air blew down her neck, making her shiver. A lake-swim would have to wait until summertime.
Sybil took her hand and dipped to one knee, bringing Levana's knuckle to her forehead. "Does this meet your expectations, My Queen? Does the Earth please you?"
Levana cocked her head, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she stared at the rustling willow tree, the branches cast downwards like wept tears. "It's beautiful." She diverted her attention back to Sybil, smiling. "Shall we go meet the emperor?"
Sybil kept her gaze on the ground. "I do whatever you desire, My Queen."
"Your Majesty, this meeting cannot be taken lightly at all," Torin said, speaking to Rikan's back. "This is the first time in over a century that a lunar sovereign sets foot on earthen soil. Please, for the love of all things holy, at least try to keep face in her presence."
Rikan sunk lower into his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "Torin, I am well aware of the circumstances; this is an essential part of the plan. I just," he let out a groan of frustration, "I just don't know if I can do this! First Channary, and now her! Is it ever going to end?"
"The sooner we get Levana's signature on the peace treaty, the safer we'll be. Of course, that'll mean more connections with Luna, and therefore, its queen," said Torin.
Rikan crinkled his nose. "Don't remind me."
"Your Majesty?"
Both Torin and the emperor turned to the servant standing in the doorway, who was looking rather pale and concerned. "Her Highness requests an immediate an immediate audience with you," he stammered.
Rikan sighed. "Give us a minute," he replied.
"If I may, Your Majesty, the princess is rather demanding that you see her." The servant pulled at his collar.
Rikan groaned in exasperation. Torin sent him a curt glare, prompting the young emperor to compose himself.
"Of course. Send her in," he said, barely masking his contempt.
The air around them seemed to thicken as soon as Levana entered the room, her footsteps nothing more than a soft patter. Behind her was her entourage; Sybil Mira, and a second thaumaturge that he didn't recognize. They were both flanked by a guard each, one man and one woman, who both moved like puppets rather than people.
Rikan stared down at the couch, wishing he could just disappear. "If I may, Torin..."
"Of course." The advisor nodded. "I'm sure that you and Her Highness would like some privacy."
Levana glared at him.
"I mean, Her Majesty," Torin quickly corrected himself, apologetic.
Levana's lips tightened against her teeth. "Indeed." She looked over at her entourage. "Sybil, same thing for you."
The head thaumaturge nodded, motioning the rest of the guard out with her. "We'll be right outside, My Queen."
Only after the soft clicking of the door could be heard did Rikan look up, bracing himself. The sight of Levana made his stomach lurch.
She was just as exquisite as he remembered―more, even. The young regent's face was a vision of peaceful serenity, an innocent beauty that surpassed even his beloved Empress An. She was a divine goddess, a radiant gem in an otherwise bland and grey world.
For the briefest of moments, Rikan could almost see how Saito had fallen for her.
He jabbed his fingernails into his palms as hard as he could, nearly yelping from the pain. He would not be like his brother. He would not fall for her mind games. He would not fall under her spell.
No, no, no.
Levana could feel his resistance, his efforts to keep his mind and heart out of her grasp. She barely held back a haughty smirk. His stubbornness, as annoying as it was, amused her.
She smiled. "What a pleasure it is to see you again, Your Majesty. It is such a shame that our time together was cut short at my sister's coronation. I was looking forward to get to know my future brother-in-law."
Rikan narrowed his eyes. "Brother-in-law?" he asked skeptically,
Levana's lips turned into a playful pout. "Oh, Saito never told you?" she mused, twirling an auburn curl around her finger. "I thought he confided more in you, his brother, but I guess I was wrong." She cocked her head. "But then again, you would've been against the whole thing, so maybe that's why he neglected to inform you of our engagement."
"Engagement?!" Rikan managed to choke, a look akin to horror on his face.
Levana held a gloved hand in front of him, a lone ring on her finger. Her eyes bore into his, a persistent warmth behind her gaze. "Lovely gem, isn't it?"
A surge of fury rooted the emperor to the spot, his teeth clenched. "That's...that's Grandmama's ring..." he said, his voice soft and wavering.
"It is?" Levana replied, feigning ignorance. "Well, your grandmother had excellent taste, then."
"Give that back to me!" Rikan shouted, swiping at her. Levana quickly moved back, stumbling like a small bird.
"It's mine now," she sneered, holding her hand to her chest, cradling it protectively. "Your brother gave it to me; it's mine to keep."
"My brother took it from the treasury without consulting anyone. That ring is property of the commonwealth."
Levana scowled. "Do you really want to start war over a ring? I assure you, I have an army waiting back on Luna, ready to attack at my beck and call."
Rikan crossed his arms over his chest, breathing deeply. "I don't want to fight with you."
"Well, then, drop the ring business, and everything will be fine," Levana said, perching herself delicately upon a chair.
The emperor balled his hands into angry fists, lest he accidentally reach out and strangle her.
"Believe me, this meeting is no more pleasant to me as it is to you. Why don't we just play nice and get this over with?"
Rikan sat down at his desk, gripping his netscreen with white knuckles. "Sign the treaty."
Levana clucked her tongue. "I would love to, young emperor, but I'm not going to just sign something all willy-nilly." She leaned back, crossing her legs. "What good would it do me?"
"Don't you want peace?"
"Of course," Levana said. "But that will require further compensation on your part."
Rikan crossed his arms over his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. "What is it that you'd like, then? Resources? Technology?"
Levana looked at him dead in the eyes, sending a shiver down the emperor's spine. It felt like she was embracing him, cradling him, without even lifting a finger. "Well, to begin, you could drop your repugnant attitude." She folded her hands demurely in her lap. "For there to be an alliance, you must be polite." Her gaze softened. "There must be trust."
Blood rushed to Rikan's head, his body trembling. "Why on earth should I trust you? It's your fault that my brother is dead!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the desk.
Levana looked taken aback, her eyes wide like a doe. Within an instant, though, they narrowed, her hands gripping the silk of her skirt. "My fault? How is it my fault?" she spat, anger rolling off her in waves.
"Oh, don't give me that," Rikan sneered, standing so fast that his chair screeched back. "You're the one who stuck those bullets in his brain!"
The regent's face contorted with rage, her pale cheeks pooling with red from anger, or embarrassment, perhaps. "I never did that. It was Channary. All of this is Channary."
"Yes, that's what my wife said, but you know what, Levana? I don't bestow mercy upon any of your kind. You're guilty. It's all your fault."
"No, it's not, I―"
"YES IT IS!" Rikan roared, making Levana jump. "If you had just stayed away from him, with your evil witch powers, he would still be alive! Channary wouldn't have even thought of killing him! All you wanted was to be empress, anyway, just like your sister! You're so SELFISH!"
Levana sniffed, visibly upset. "You're wrong, Rikan. I loved him. I still do," she said, trembling.
"Don't make me laugh, Levana. Creatures like you aren't even capable of love," he sneered.
At his words, Levana's patience snapped, and with a twitch of her fingers, Rikan dropped to his knees, bowing. He let out a strangled gasp.
"You will show proper respect when addressing the queen of Luna," she said, her gaze growing darker by the second. She stood, sauntering gracefully to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder.
It took a moment for the emperor to recover from his shock. "Might I remind you that you're not yet queen," Rikan sneered.
Levana felt a twitch developing in her right eye. She did not allow him to stand or even raise his head from its lowered, respectful position. "And," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, running a fingernail down his chin, "you do not wish to try my patience, Your Majesty."
She let go of his mind and he slapped her hand away immediately, his anger bubbling up inside him. He rose to his full height, trying to make himself as imposing as possible. "Oh, I do wish to try your patience, Levana. I know about your plans; you're the same as your sister, your father before you. If my wife or son are harmed in any way, I swear by my own name, you will never again see the light of your own moon the next time you set foot on my soil."
Levana tilted her head back so she could peer down her nose at him, even though he was taller than she was. "Your threats are empty and meaningless to me, since you could not possibly carry them out. I suggest that you take the time to stamp out your temper and reassess the situation you're in, because anyone can see that I hold all the cards, that I currently have the upper hand."
"Witch," Rikan grumbled. He regretted the word as soon as it left his lips, half expecting the woman to force a knife in his hand and make him cut out his own tongue.
However, Levana just pursed her lips and walked away from him, her violet dress swaying like a breeze over her hips. "Thank you so very much for your time," she said, gripping the handle of the door, her stare as sharp as needles.
Sybil and the rest of her entourage were waiting eagerly outside, eyeing the queen as she slammed the door shut, gliding away, quick as a hare. "Sybil."
"Yes, My Queen?" Sybil said, following posthaste.
"Have the ship prepared to leave within the hour; I don't want to stay on this planet any longer than I have to."
Sybil stopped, the entourage copying her movements. "Of course." She turned around, facing the others. "Come on, you heard her. Fetch the crew."
"You too, Sybil," Levana said, her hands bunched into fists at her side. "I would like a moment alone."
The thaumaturge nodded. "Your wish is my command, Your Majesty." With a curt bow, she followed the rest of her peers, glancing over at the regent with concern.
Once her entourage disappeared around the corner, Levana released a guttural scream, pounding her fists against the wall. Her body thrashed and bucked, as if she were having a seizure. The cool of the marble helped soothe her burning skin as she rested her forehead against it, trying to soothe her ragged breathing.
A sudden flash of colour burst in her vision, making her head snap up and whip around. Her searing gaze set on a little person standing beside her, his eyes wide as saucers.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice small and afraid.
Levana scrunched her nose, taking in the sight of the little boy, dressed in a red jacket and black pants, clutching a wooden spinning top in his small hands. She recognized the child as Prince Kai, heir to the Eastern Commonwealth. Rikan's son.
"What are you doing here?" he asked again.
Levana took a step forward, making him back away in response. She probed his mind, the glimmer of his bioelectricity calling to her like chocolate. His weak little mind was easy to grasp and bend; it was perfect.
"My name is..." she looked up at the ceiling, "...Firecracker. Yes, Firecracker." She smiled.
"Firecracker?" Kai said, perplexed. "That's not a name. That's a thing that goes bang." He waved a hand around, mimicking the little bombs. "They go off at the festival each year. I love them."
"Your uncle loved them too."
The prince blinked. "My uncle? I don't have an uncle."
Levana was perplexed for a moment. Of course, Saito had died when the prince was just a baby, so he had no memory of his uncle. Rikan must've never told him anything about his brother. Levana felt a slight ache in her heart. It seemed wrong somehow, as if the emperor were wiping away Saito's existence. Levana fingered her ring. "You don't? I must be mistaken, then."
The boy's eyes narrowed, suspicious. Levana's tender smile made him feel uneasy. "Are you the monster?"
Levana's smile faltered. "What monster?"
"The queen. Queen Leva or something. Papa said that she's a pretty lady from the moon, and that she eats little boys like me." Kai shrunk back, afraid. "Are you going to eat me?"
Levana's eyes smouldered, the familiar rage clawing at her spine, like a tiger in a cage. But even then, with the anger smeared over her face, she was stunning. Her beauty wasn't lost on Kai, who continued to stare at her even though he was shaking in his boots.
"He says that she's a...witch..." Kai trailed off, his eyes wide with wonder.
Levana fluttered her fingers, the motion graceful yet menacing. She gripped his mind, his waves, twisting them with ease. "Why don't you go back to your mommy?"
Kai nodded slowly, his shaggy black hair flopping with every shift of his head. "Yeah. She's waiting for me. We're going to read stories together."
Levana smiled kindly as she watched the child waddle away, in a stupor. Once he disappeared from sight and his footsteps faded away, her motherly mask tore away, her fingers itching to strangle someone. "Witch..." she sneered, her blood boiling. "What the hell does he know?!"
In her anger, she bunched the skirt of her dress in clenched fists, tearing down the halls with long strides. She had to leave. She couldn't stand another minute on Earth, in that palace. She paused once she reached the frosted glass doors to the landing pad, where her ship was waiting. The glass gave no hint at her reflection. Her brow furrowed. "You've messed with the wrong lunar," she whispered, glancing up at the statues on the ceiling, looking down at her with prying eyes. "I promise you, Rikan―you're going to regret this day forever."
She fiddled with her left wrist, until she gripped the portscreen tied around it. With a flick, the tiny device came to life, the screen hovering like a hologram. "Establish voicelink with Dr. Amaryely, head of pharmaceuticals," she commanded.
The screen pinged, a spinning globe lighting up the display. "Dr. Amaryely speaking," a voice said, light and lyrical. "How may I help you, My Queen?"
"It's time." Levana grinned. "Launch operation 65789; Codename: Letumosis."
She heard a slight gulp on the other end. "The operation 65789? Your father's plan?"
"What else?"
A few clicking sounds. "Of course, Your Majesty. Consider it done."
With a slight giggle, Levana disconnected the link, tucking her portscreen back into her sleeve. Her laughter soon turned to full-out cackling. Cackling, cackling, the sight of Rikan, of his son, his wife―all dying―filling her mind. All of his people. All of Earth's people. All their blood shed.
They wouldn't even have time to beg for mercy. Her father's creation would bring them all to
their knees, while she would enjoy their suffering over wine and chocolate.
It was coming for them; the world's newest, most deadly pestilence.