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Smoke and Mirrors (50)


Fifty

Fall of the Rebel Queen


 

I was wide awake that night, laying in bed when I saw Adrian. The room changed quickly, forming walls of wood instead of the marble they once were. I knew instantly I was having a vision.


Adrian sat in a meeting room instead of my bedroom, talking to a man. I couldn't hear them, but I could see them as clearly as if I was there. The man spoke with a snake's forked tongue, and his eyes were dark. Cruel. A silent warning crept down my spine with the legs of a spider. His hair was grey.


The man patted Adrian reassuringly on the back, then stood and pointed at a map. The scene focused on a map of Pyronoth, buried down in the crook of the southern kingdoms. It was marked by its signature flame symbol.


The room changed suddenly. I saw Seraphina chained to a chair. Her head was draped over her shoulder, dark hair pouring down her face in messy, unkempt waves. Her thick, black lashes fanned gently over her cheeks. A Pyronite guard tilted her head back, forcing a vial of glowing Mermaid’s tears past her lips. She seemed lifeless. Powerless.


My breath caught in my chest.


The scene faded out and I saw the walls of stone turn into a building. She was held in a room in an old tower, marked distinctly by the crooked tilt of its structure and red shingles.


—Then it was over. I was back in my room, my blankets tucked securely around my legs, staring blankly at the wall.


I stumbled out of the grasp of my bed and searched for a pen and paper to write the vision with. My hands fumbled with the drawer as I jerked it open.


I snatched a pen and hurriedly scrawled out a drawing of the tower, as well as where on the map I'd seen the man point to.


I saw Seraphina's face over and over again in my mind. Her skin had been so pale—so ashen. The natural glow of her cheeks had been sucked out of her. She was a dying candle.


Was this why the Fates had been so adamant that I not let Seraphina leave? Did they know what would happen?


This strong, rigid, crazy aunt of mine had pulled some stunts in her life. . . But I loved her. I didn't realise until that moment that I really, truly did.


Looking back, I wonder if realizing that love a little sooner would have changed things.


I folded the paper and hurried into the hallway, still dressed in my pajamas. Shoe-box sized containers occupied spots on a few walls. With less urgent visions, we were to drop our descriptions in the boxes with our names written on them and wait for someone to go through the week's visions to find it. But this was urgent, so I ignored the vision boxes and hurried straight to Marissa's office.


As I entered, she looked up from a stack of papers. "Tessa—what are you doing awake?"


I firmly planted the paper on her desk and looked her in the eye. "Seraphina's in trouble. I saw her. She's being held captive somewhere."


She stared at me in confusion for a moment and then groaned. "Doesn't that woman listen to a word anyone tells her?" She shook her head. "Of course she doesn't. She's Seraphina. Why would she?" She lifted a small lightning bug from beneath her desk and looked at it very seriously. "Tell Allryn to call an emergency meeting." The lightning bug's tail flashed and it flew away.


Soon, members of the Fates slowly began to fill the room. We moved to the main office to make room for everyone. Glaring marble walls stared at me as I recited my vision, making sure to describe the crooked tower I saw in full detail.


One of the Fates, a man with a fluffy white beard, said, "That sounds like the People's Tower in the capital of Pyronoth."


I tilted my head. "What's that?"


Marissa jumped in, "A memorial dedicated to the people. It's used for shelter, gatherings, celebrations, and anything else you can think of."


A wave of quiet murmurings descended over the room. The People's Tower. Riot. Seraphina.


"What's wrong?" I asked.


Marissa looked at me. "If her Majesty is in the People's Tower, this could very likely be a different group holding her hostage." She glanced at the Fates at her side. "There’s a possibility that she’s being held hostage by her own people."


I raised my hands questioningly. "And? What does that have to do with anything?"


"If it is her own people who have her, us interfering will start a riot," she explained softly. Her words dropped like glass, shattering across the atmosphere and piercing my heart.


I stared at her, dumbfounded. "So we're not going to do anything? We're just—going to leave her there and let her die?!"


She shook her head and glanced around the room nervously. "Of course not. We'll get her back, okay? We just have to be wise about this. The people of Pyronoth are responsible for mining most of the minerals needed to run our machines, and a lot of other things. If we force workers to riot or go on strike, things might not end well for us. This is bigger than Queen Seraphina and Prince Adrian."


A new voice cut in. It was a man I didn't know with a dark mustache and grey hair. "I promise we will get her back. She has information on your mother's society and her son was taken on our watch. We owe it to her."


Hope dared to creep into my heart, but trailing behind it was a sneaking suspicion that this would be a hard promise to keep.


***


That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, I crept down the stairs and found myself searching the library.


I knew exactly what I was looking for, the problem was, I didn't know where such a book would be or what it would be called.


My fingers whispered against the dusty spines of history books. A chill was in the air that night, creeping in past the window panes and seeping into my bones. Moonlight seemed to shine on one book in particular, and the title caught my attention.


A History of the People's Tower.


I scooped it up immediately, plopped on the floor, crossed my legs and flipped it open.


I read for hours. Information pulled me into a swirling world of history and chaos, loss and victory. This tower wasn’t just a building, it was a symbol; a beacon of hope for the people of Pyronoth—Hope that they would never again be ruled by an uncaring tyrant.


—And now it was a prison for Seraphina.


It seemed to me that there were two options for who was keeping her prisoner: The Guardians, or her own people.


My mother’s group wanted her for her power. Her own people wanted to put an end to a queen they thought was a villain who stole the very order of the kingdoms. If Marissa was right and it was her own people keeping her prisoner, then she likely didn’t have long before they tried to execute her.


My heart started to race and panic shouted inside my head, quickly. Quickly. Save her. Now. Doubt circled after it, building into a crescendo of confusion.


It sure would be nice if readers were good for something more than just reading. I really wish you had a way to tell me what I should do. It sure would make things easier.


Rising to my feet, I closed the book and returned to my room.


The Fates knew everything I knew and likely more about this situation. I told them my vision. What more would it take to get them to save Seraphina? I knew they were trying, but she didn’t have time to wait.


What if you saved her yourself? a thought whispered.


My fingers froze on the cover of my bed.


No way. Not again. Not after Adrian. I almost killed us both that time, and I wasn’t even fully recovered yet.


Still, the thought lingered—a monster that had bit into my brain and refused to leave. If I hadn’t rescued Adrian myself, he would have died. And I would be up against regular people, not the strategic elitists that made up my mom’s group.


Suddenly, the scene changed before me. I was watching Sterling. Darkness hung around him in the form of a midnight sky, and it tugged at his soul. I could feel it, cold and harsh. He led an army that surrounded the People’s Tower.


I swallowed.


“End this,” he said. “End it all.” His silver eyes were intense, dark. Filled with hatred for—for what? The woman locked inside this tower? But why? Sterling hadn’t hated her before. What changed?


My death? The thought was sudden, but it made my heart skip a beat. It lined up with the prophecy. I had died, and he was going insane.


The cost would be his kingdom.


From what I’d heard, his kingdom was already crumbling. He had moved his soldiers from the wars at the borders to focus on the search for the Guardians.


But why? He hated me. Why did he care about my death? He wanted me dead. He had tried to take my life with his own hands. What was different now?


He likes me. I sucked in a breath as the realisation hit me. He cared. He had to, or he wouldn’t care so much about defeating the Guardians.


But then what about the people in the tower? Why was he leading an army there? They weren’t the Guardians, they were Seraphina’s people. Why did he want them dead?


None of this made sense.


The vision left me alone in my room, standing near my bed. A chill shot down my back as the scene played out on repeat in my head. Before I knew it, I was stumbling out my door and reaching for my necklace. A warm sensation surrounded me, followed by a dark tunnel that the necklace had opened. My thoughts were focused on Pyronoth. On the tower.


When the darkness faded I was standing outside of the People’s Tower.


There was a rocky, orange desert around the tower, wrapped in a band of the burnt skeletons of trees.


I didn’t see Sterling. In fact, I didn’t see a single soul. The land looked empty and barren. Grass and trees were dead and gnarled, and the air was parched and hot. The sky was a dark shade of rust.


Caution pricked my skin like needles. I crept up to the tower and paced the edge of it before I found a single door at its base.


I stood in the shadows, watching. Waiting.


Suddenly, I heard voices coming from behind the tower. My eyes widened and I quickly looked for a place to hide, but there was nothing. Nothing but sand, dead trees, and rocks.


I squeezed my eyes shut and reached for my necklace. I had to get out of here. I needed to go home.


Panic hit me when I opened my eyes and I still stood in front of the tower.


Come on necklace, I need you to work!


The talking grew clearer as the men came closer to where I stood.


I pressed my back into the wall until no space was left between it and me.


“. . . executing her this evening.”


Words from the conversation filtered through my panic and snagged my attention. Executing who? Seraphina?


Suddenly the voices were walking past me. Two men dressed in suits that only a royal Pyronoth guard would wear.


Her own men had turned against her.


The men wore fire guns strapped to their waists, just like the one Adrian kept on him when he was guarding me through the shadow forest. That felt like an eternity ago.


My heart raced as one of the men stared directly at me. His face was unreadable, unchanging. Nothing about his demeanor gave away that he’d even seen me, but he had. How could he not?


I held my breath, afraid of what was about to happen. Why was this stupid necklace not getting me out of here?


They didn’t even pause as they walked. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t do anything.


I looked down at my hand, still wrapped around the necklace. It was transparent.


I held back a gasp and released my necklace, then fanned out my fingers and turned my hand over. It was dark, shadowy, and entirely transparent. Like a shadow.


They didn’t notice me because I was a shadow.


I pressed myself against the wall, but the wall gave way and suddenly I was being sucked past the bricks and into a room. I was traveling through the shadows.


A gasp parted my lips as the walls became solid again and my skin returned to normal.


The room around me was dimly-lit. A hallway.


The walls were brick and the floor was wood. I recognized it from the pictures in the Fate’s library book. This hallway led to rooms made for people who needed shelter.


I tried to repeat the same sensation that had coursed through my body when I turned to shadow. Nothing felt different at first, but after a moment, I noticed a certain weightlessness that I felt when walking. Ice burned within my chest; a hollowness that consumed me.


I touched the wall, but my skin climbed the bricks in ribbons of darkness.


It took me a moment to collect myself. When I did, I shook my head and hurried down the hallway.


This Talent wasn’t one to be excited about. It wasn’t mine—I’d stolen it. It cost me a man’s life. My skin pricked at the memory.


As I hurried, I stumbled over my own foot. My head slammed into the wall, but instead of crashing into the bricks, my face went past the wall. I could see through the wall.


I pushed myself up and tried peering through the walls again. Empty bedrooms lined these hallways. They all looked similar to the dungeon that held Seraphina in my vision, but with beds and soft blankets rather than chains and nothingness.


I walked like that until I found Seraphina’s room.


Seraphina was shackled to the wall, her eyes sealed shut. She looked exactly like I’d seen just earlier, but I couldn’t help the shock that still filled me at seeing her so lifeless.


I slipped into the room, but was startled to find that someone else was already there.


I held my breath and stayed perfectly still.


The stranger wore a dark cloak. Their back was to me as they stared down at Seraphina.


“Things could have been so different.” The voice was a whisper—a thought that silence tried to consume. I wasn’t sure who said it—the stranger, or me.


A knock came from the door and the stranger tensed. I did, too.


“Come in,” said the stranger. I could tell now that it was a man.


The door screamed into the silence as it creaked open, then spat out a man. The man was tall, with grey hair—the man from my vision. His eyes were not black, but they sent shivers down my spine regardless. “You’re not rethinking the execution, are you?”


The stranger shook his head at Seraphina and turned away. “No, definitely not. Not after all she’s done.”


“Good. The people are waiting for your command.”


The cloaked man nodded, then with a strike of his boot against the floor, turned and began to leave the room.


Now, I bet you’re thinking that being practically invisible is easy. No one sees you, which means you must never get caught. Right?


Wrong.


Being practically invisible means people can’t see when you’re standing in their way.


He marched straight into me, and in a moment of panic, I stumbled back. I could feel something inside me let go as my cover disappeared.


The other stranger—the grey-headed one—looked sharply at me with piercing eyes.


“You—how did you get in here?! You’re supposed to be dead!” he exclaimed.


I sat up and scrambled to my feet, skin paling.


The hooded stranger looked at me for the first time and my eyes widened. So did his.


I knew this person.


Suddenly, the grey-headed man raised his hand towards me and I felt the air being pulled from my lungs. I gasped and began to claw at my throat, trying to break free of whatever was taking my air.


“What are you doing?!” Adrian demanded, throwing back his hood as he turned to the grey-headed man.


“She’s on her side,” the man spat. “She’s an enemy to the kingdoms.”


Adrian rushed towards the man and grasped his shoulder. “Redrik, stop this. She is royalty.”


“And a traitor,” the man replied.


I made an effort to disappear into the shadows. For a moment, my skin flickered like a broken lightbulb. Adrenaline was pulsing too quickly to allow me to keep it up, and I continued to lay there, choking.


Suddenly the air returned to my lungs like normal, and the man stared at me, shocked.


“No,” he whispered. The word tumbled from his lips like a feather, floating aimlessly around the room until it settled on the floor. “You can’t be.” He turned quickly then and marched to Seraphina’s side. His long, skeletal fingers fisted her chin like a claw. “Is your niece like you?”


Her eyes twitched for a moment—not enough to open, just enough to let me know she was alive.


Answer me!” he shouted. His voice echoed like an executioner’s drum. Her skin paled where his fingers bit into her jaw.


I sucked in a breath and scrambled to my feet. “Let go of her!”


He let go, but stared at me, a smile growing at the corners of his lips like a thistle. “You are like her, aren’t you? A water talent doesn’t turn to shadow.”


I swallowed, eyes flicking to Adrian.


His brows were drawn together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”


The man turned to Adrian. “Your cousin is very special.” His eyes found mine. “Very special indeed.”


I shivered. He knew. Now the Guardians would try to take me like they had Seraphina, and I would become their slave.


Sometimes I really missed my old life. The days where the biggest villains in my life were my landlord and pesky neighbors.


“What are you talking about, Redrik? Let’s just get this over with. Put her in the dungeons or something for now, but don’t hurt her.” Adrian’s tone held warning to it, which was only slightly comforting given the fact that he was ordering me to be sent to the dungeons.


“Yes, of course, your Majesty,” Redrik said suddenly, bowing his head to Adrian.


Majesty? Since when? Rage welled within me. Seraphina was still the rightful ruler, not Adrian.


Redrik walked to my side and firmly grabbed my arm. “Don’t struggle. You’re not the only one with Talents they weren’t born with.”


My eyes widened, but of course, I didn’t listen. I never was good at that, it seemed.


I lit my skin on fire and let it rage until I couldn’t grow it any more. The man shouted and backed away, but suddenly ice began to fill the room, which made it harder to keep burning.


I sucked in a breath. Suddenly the air was gone again.


I tried to focus my frustration on the man. If I could take his powers like I’d taken the shadow bandit’s, maybe I’d actually have a chance at surviving this. The problem was, I didn’t remember how I stole the bandit’s powers. I did something though, because he allowed me to breathe again.


“Stop this,” Adrian demanded. “I’m having you put in the dungeons for your safety, Fire Squid.” His hands were out, as if trying to calm a wild animal.


The use of his nickname for me pierced me as if he’d stabbed me.


“No, you stop this. Why are you holding your own mom hostage?!” I demanded breathlessly. “She trusted you. She thought you were in danger and she ignored her own safety to find you. This is how you repay her?!”


“She doesn’t care about me. She left me to rot with your mother’s group.”


I didn’t,” Seraphina whispered. It was a hoarse, broken whisper, but it was there.


I turned to her. She was awake, but her eyes had lost all color. They were dark and dull, now empty of that golden glow that they used to hold.


“Sera—I’ll get you out,” I promised. I wasn’t sure who I was saying that to, but I meant it.


“No, you won’t,” she replied. “You shouldn’t.” Her voice broke. For a moment, the room was quiet. Deathly quiet. I heard the silent crescendo of bells and cellos and violins all gather to a painful note as the silence rang on.


Then something shattered it.


Shouting. Gunshots. The crackling of fire. A shout, “Invaders! Invaders approaching!”


The man looked sharply at me, then at Adrian. “The people are waiting. Let’s get this over with now!” He looked at me again. “You want to get her out? Let’s leave, then.”


In an instant, mirrors began to pool from his hands. It felt wrong seeing something so beautiful coming from this man. The mirrors attached themselves to Seraphina, unlocked her chains and pulled her into the mirror realm. She disappeared with a scream that pierced my soul. Adrian and I were next. I was a prisoner of mirror. This wasn’t an unfamiliar situation.


We reappeared outside of the people’s tower. People gasped and began to chatter when we appeared. I saw rows of Seraphina’s guards lined up around us. Crowds of Pyronoth villagers whispered and shouted,


“Death to the Rebel Queen!”


“Death to the Rebel Queen!”


“Death to the Rebel Queen!”


The chant rose up around us like a poem written by death itself.


You want the death of your queen?!” Adrian shouted. His voice tore the sky. He spat the question. “I’ll give it to you. I am starting a new era!” The statement rang out as he circled Seraphina, who sat quietly on the ground, her dress flowing around her like a river. “An era not built on rebelion, but on a change in the tides. We are a new generation, and we are taking back the freedom that is rightfully ours! Tyranny ends tonight! Our destiny is what we make it.”


The crowd cheered. It startled me to see how much they despised her.


Death to the Rebel Queen!”


Redrik smiled behind Adrian—beside me.


Suddenly, Seraphina stood. The action seemed to physically pain her, but somehow, she was standing.


I felt her eyes on me.


Suddenly, an intense fire came over me. Warmth began to leave my core and was replaced with a hollow chill. The chill left me shaking.


With a whisper of wind, I collapsed to the ground.


Redrik stood over me and seemed puzzled, then turned to Seraphina. “What did you do to her?”


Seraphina closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, her gaze was bright; shining with fire and gold. “I’m not letting you use her like you used me.” Iron entered her voice.


The man stared at her for a moment and then a growl tore its way out of his throat. He turned to Adrian. “End her!”


After that, everything seemed to blur. Something had been ripped away from me and it burned like a wound. Noise sounded like water. The ground pricked me like knives. Every sensation seemed stronger and worse than it had before.


“How could you do this!” Redrik shouted at Seraphina. Anger stained his face with red. In an instant, his claw–like hands were raised towards her. She began to choke as he sucked the air from her.


I couldn’t do anything but lay there, powerless and miserable.


“Stop!” Adrian shouted. “We’ll do it formally, not like this.”


The man turned to Adrian. “Fine. Formally.”


I tried to scream. I tried to move. I tried to save her.


I couldn’t. I was parallyzed, frozen on the ground as I stared up at the sky, who watched on in silence.


Adrian shook his head, eyes closed, and turned to his men. “Lady Seraphina,” he threw the title like a sword, “you are paying the price of treason with your life. What do you say?”


She looked at me. She looked beautiful, her raven hair blowing in the wind and her stance proud, in spite of her predicament. “How many people does it take to capture a world?”


I couldn’t respond.


She answered for me. “Just one. Don’t let them fool you.”


“Is that all you have to say?” Adrian asked. For a moment, his voice wavered.


She didn’t look at him. She didn’t reply. She just stood there, accepting her fate.


Maybe she’d accepted it long before this moment. Looking back, I think she’d waited for death for a long time.


“Fire at will,” Adrian said.


No, stop this! I thought, but couldn’t gather the strength to scream. She’s not the villain here!


Seraphina’s soldiers didn’t hesitate.


The sound of bullets rang through the air.


Seraphina collapsed.


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Greetings From The Planet Writing Daisies!

I am a Christian Teen writer who enjoys reading, art, bad puns, and music--especially Ukulele!

I started writing when I was nine years old. I told stories to my siblings daily, so it only made sense to take the next step up, and I love it! I hope you enjoy some of the things I've decided to share from my own experiences!

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