It's a beautiful lie
It's the perfect denial
Such a beautiful lie to believe in
So beautiful, beautiful it makes me
-30 Seconds to Mars, "A Beautiful Lie"
"She's on her way." Was her announcement, her way of greeting as she strode into the throne room. It did nothing to impress her; a practical throne room the King of Mars had bore little in the way of fanciful displays of wealth. It was instead just another sign that the culture present was war. Just like the palace itself, the room was primarily constructed of black marble and dark granite. Perhaps native materials to the planet but it was beyond her understanding and more importantly, her care. Where there was not black and dark gray, there was an abundance of red. But even the motif of flames was lacking vibrant colors. There were no yellows, or even greens and blues, much less white, that came with fire. The flames themselves were blood red, dark and ominous.
Hardly her concern, but still something she paid attention to. The palace held a fire within, a means to connect and commune with the flames of the planet itself. That was where she spent most of her time, if she wasn't entertaining some thought or fuck with Pyrite. She knew of his plans and honestly didn't care either way. Her skills were unique, a bit more limiting than his in terms of where they could be useful, so it meant she made sure their agreement was mutually beneficial to them both.
From the fires she influenced the planet, poisoning and corrupting it slowly here and there until, like a cyst to lance, it was ready to near burst. The Priestess, his target and prize, had been both exceedingly difficult and yet so ridiculously easy to sway. For all of her desires to protect "her" people, she was easily distracted by this Lunarian emissary that Pyrite had not properly played off for being unimportant.
Whoever this woman was, she was causing the Priestess to rethink herself. It was worrisome to her, for her corruption relied on routine, consistency. That the blonde could so fuck up the schedule of things meant she had to work extra hard, often recklessly, to achieve the results that were so desired. While Pyrite was not on a timetable of having Mars taken over and offered to the Great Queen, so too did he not wish it drug out longer than necessary. The emissary would have to be dealt with, swiftly and soon.
It was why she made the visions especially bad. It was dangerous that; she had planned for a slow and steady process else raise alarm, but that damn fucking blonde was going to ruin it all otherwise. For hours she poured into the flames, forcing the seed of doubt that had been planted to grow quickly even with hesitant roots. Every trick in the book she tried, twisting the possibility of mutual attraction between them to one sided hatred. Where the fucking blonde was teaching her how to fight she forced the student to be better than the teacher.
Pyrite wasn't the only one who knew of manipulation. She had taken some of his suggestions, where he was "training" himself to best this Lunarian, and found the primal force of the planet. Known for warfare, uncontestedly so, it was not too difficult to have the planet offer such suggestions of combat while she turned the Priestess away from her ultimate saving grace. She knew through the meditation how effective it was, how bothered the Priestess had been but also the Lunarian. Surprised did not begin to describe it, but it was the easiest explanation.
The rest had not been as hard. The Priestess already resented the Lunarian in a fashion for arriving and turning her world upside down. She was frustrated by the attraction she felt for her. She was confused for feeling that way about anyone. The blonde was infuriating and acted outside of preconceived boundaries. She was smugly confident, a perfectionist, beautiful, and untamed. The Lunarian seemed both completely aware of what she was doing and at the same time, completely ignorant of it. To the Priestess that demanded, valued, and wanted stability, it was too much for her to handle, much less want or expect to.
What better way than to break up their union than to have the Priestess meet, and then beat, the Lunarian at the games they both played? Sword play, word play, combat… oh it was hardly fair to that fucking bitch certainly, but she did not play fair. Whyever would she, whyever could she? It was impossible to even consider. All it took was planting the seed. The Priestess was a creature of habit that when night fell, she would meditate and from the fires she could reap her harvest, reliving all that the raven haired one had done in her emotional state.
Her lips quirked to the side in a smirk, pleased and satisfied at the results. The fucking blonde had been put in her place, the Priestess had separated from the Lunarian, and had left the monastery with her two pointless guards. They had no destination at first other than away, but that was easy enough to correct with some subtle presses. A need, a draw to the palace meant that Pyrite would have his prize and she would be nearly ready for all of his mind fuckery planned.
That was how she announced her presence as she strode into the throne room. Rare was anyone in it save for Pyrite, but on occasion she would find one or two of his servants lingering about. Most knew how to dismiss themselves without a gesture and did so flawlessly. From the throne Pyrite sat in thought, looking up at the words and arrival. She had more for him though, standing before the throne as though she was here to be judged. Hardly a concern, she related the rest. "She is riding here with the two men; she should be here within a handful of days unless they push."
"And the Lunarian emissary? Does she ride with her?" Smartly he was concerned by that bitch's presence, but she shook her head with a smile.
"No. The Priestess separated herself from her company prior to her departure, likely gaining hours if not an entire day on her." She wouldn't relate just how that came about, otherwise Pyrite may not approve of her means. It was dangerous that, infusing the Priestess with the primal fighting spirit of the planet, but it was the best short-term solution she had when faced with an inept combatant and a masterful one.
He paused to think on that, his face showed he was not immediately pleased by the news but he could handle changes to his plans as well as anyone could. "If this Lunarian is as persistent as it is perceived, she will follow. Likely she will press hard to make up the time… do what you can to encourage the Priestess to arrive here quicker. It shall be my coup de grace, to destroy the emissary. I'll need to think how I want to go about all of it."
"What if she isn't Lunarian?" She blamed this easily on the Priestess' thoughts concerning the blonde. While not exactly the most worldly and knowledgeable woman in the cosmos, it still weighed on her in a fashion. The Priestess had no idea who or what she was. The blonde hadn't dropped any hints that had been easy to decipher through the thoughts the Priestess projected while meditating.
"What?" Dismissively he waved a hand at the notion. "Who cares what the fuck she is. She represents the False Moon; that is reason enough for me to destroy her."
Ever feeling she was far more cautious than Pyrite she pressed the issue. "She could be a representative from Uranus, for example. Even if she has connections to the False Queen, she still ultimately has her loyalties with her home planet. Do you wish for an army of Uranians laying siege to your palace?"
He scowled at her, not quite wanting to admit such a concept. It was not uncommon for others to leave their planets to live elsewhere; he was living proof after all, just as she was. An outside army he had not anticipated; perhaps this emissary had connections still to her home. However he felt confident in knowing that just because she may be, just as she may be Lunarian for that matter, it would still take time for it to be known that the emissary was dead.
She continued on while he thought. "Or perhaps she's Venusian. Blonde hair is not a standardized trait."
With that he snorted out a laugh. "What is she going to do then, fuck me to death? Whoever heard of a Venusian straying from their station of sex to do something worthwhile?"
"She has a falchion…." She did not care to admit it, but there was something dangerous about the blonde, about this Lunarian emissary, that if she did not raise concern over then all of Pyrite's plans would be for nothing.
"And Uranians fight with swords as well. I don't care Melinite; she can be whatever the fuck she wants to be. She will be dead anyway. If she's from Uranus it means she'll at least put up a fight before I kill her. If she's from Venus then I'm amazed she has managed to do something that hasn't involved sex yet. It doesn't matter; she's not important."
Bullshit. Immediately that thought came to mind but she politely and wisely dropped the issue. He was far too riled for his own good right now that to discuss tactics or strategy would be for naught. For someone so normally in control of themselves she mused over the change, eyes flicking before they spotted the spear that was propped up against the throne he still hadn't rose from. It all made sense now; the perfectionist was failing to be perfect.
His gaze followed her own, resting on the spear before his hand grasped it, pulling it into the conversation. "Indeed, its taking longer than I thought it would. Regardless of what she is, how important she is, she is still a representative of the False Queen and the False Moon." Rising then he finally stepped down from the throne, spear in hand, his steps sure and languid. "And I want her to suffer. Death will befall her, but death is far too good for her. I want her to pay, if for no other reason of who she represents, understand?"
The indication was clear, his spear held out before her to take. She had dabbled yes in imbuing items with powers before, but they were minor things. Nothing was lasting, and certainly not something as vicious as this. Warily she accepted the weapon, unable to hide the frown that came to her face.
"I want her to burn alive from the very fires she is so trying to protect. I want her to be consumed from within, until all that is left is naught but ash to blow on the wind. Consider this your test case, do your absolute worst, for I want the False Queen to endure the same, only more so." Gaze narrowing, it pinned her down, arms folding before him once the spear was in her hands. "Do not disappoint me," he ended with, turning to stride away.
Left with the spear she watched his retreating back, subconsciously aware of her hand tightening along the weapon. Oh sure, it would have been easy to lift the weapon and heave it at his back. Save that he already knew she wouldn't. She might not like what he asked of her to do, but both knew there was little reason why she wouldn't. Heaving out a breath instead of the weapon she turned, bringing it with her deeper into the palace.
The mixing of things was not her speciality; she wasn't some apothecary that could alchemically make something by following an old book or using musty supplies. But, given her affinity for corruption and elements, she did have an idea that could work. As Pyrite had a fascination with fire, at least in regards to this planet, it would serve well enough for this project. It perhaps was not as vicious as he would want, but neither did he realize the amount of effort extended on her behalf to accomplish what she did.
The fire was kept within a plain room, surrounded by stone. It was her own creature comforts that had brought a pillow down with her to sit on as she would spend hours before it. From, what she assumed was likely a bottomless hole, the fire roared in a dancing display of symphonic crackles and pops. It had been burning since she had arrived with Pyrite, and as far as she knew never needed fuel. Of course not, the flames were powered by the very essence of the planet; it was one and the same. It wouldn't go out so long as the planet lived.
Of course, Pyrite didn't realize that. His prize he was so dead set on claiming was attuned to the planet itself. Certainly he knew that she was the King's daughter; perhaps the real reason why he wanted her in the first place. But her foresight was tied to the planet and its flames. If they went out, so would that ability more than likely. It was what made this all so dangerous, this rush he wanted to claim her. She shook her head, looking to the spear before she retook her seat back in front of the fires once more.
A sigh later her bleeding finger ran along the spear head, sloppily in appearance leaving swirls and symbols. All necessary to have the fires do something more than just heat treat the metal. It wouldn't tie the weapon to her; hardly the case, but it did serve as the necessary catalyst. Carefully then to the fires she introduced the spear's tip, ensuring that the wood itself that made up the shaft did not catch on fire. What a laugh that would be, having to explain to him that the weapon he was used to was now essentially no more. There the tainted fires licked at the steel, transforming the point to deliver instead its corrupting spread of disease.
After a few moments she withdrew the weapon, giving it a look over. The blood had burned, searing to the metal a promise to burn from within, that the victim's insides would liquify to some infested mass before dying. It wouldn't burn them per say; perhaps they would wish they were being burned alive really, but it would corrupt from the point of origin onward, turning the site to a blistering, puckering mass of red flesh before sharply turning green then black with death. Meanwhile, vomiting would follow, the body's natural reaction to purge itself would just spread the disease that much further within. It was not a graceful way to go, much less a pretty or painless way. But Pyrite seemed to always get what it was that he wanted, and if he so desired this emissary to pay…
She looked at the spear, musing before rising once more. He would want to test it likely; she'd have to warn him not to touch it but part of her wanted to leave the warning off. If he wanted to find out just what the Fires of Mars could accomplish, if he didn't want to respect them… well that certainly was not her problem.
A/N: The disease is based off of "Fire Taint," which is from the Book of Vile Darkness. Of course its not a direct copy, but it's close enough that I like it for the sheer viciousness factor.