In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I center my breathing as I stand regally in the throne room, luscious cape draped around my feet. I drank it all in.

At last I was free; set loose from the figurative and literal chains that once bound me. Always mentally unsure and unstable, I’d been locked in that dungeon for six years before I finally got out.

The means necessary to escape the rocky prison were rather gruesome, but I knew there had been no alternative. In the onslaught that accompanied my rebellion, my best friend had been slain. She and I had been down in that stinking hole together, all those years.

Through hunger and torture and darkness we prevailed, always together. Slowly I’d devised a sinister plan of escape, one that would put me in a position of power and control. Leadership. Respect……..but at what cost?

I’d weighed every other alternative, anxious to think of some version where there were no casualties. “But how can a queen rise, except on the backs of others?” I told myself.

There was every reason why Aura should be still alive. Why she should be with me now. But we’d gotten separated and both captured. I’d carried out my end of the plan by revealing one of the queen’s most loyal henchmen to be a traitor. He wasn’t, of course, but she didn’t know that. I’d spent days- months even- putting little pieces of this intricate puzzle together until I had it mastered perfectly.

She thanked me with all the graciousness of one truly indebted and ridiculous, and I was as humble as could be. She of course offered to grant me anything I wanted, and I of course wanted the crown. In a moment of weakness she allowed herself to be without her castle guards and I sprang in, ending her life in three seconds.

The guards returned to find the traitor dead on the floor next to their queen, with me sobbing in a heap on the sidelines. I explained what had happened: she’d given him a chance to redeem his honor like the compassionate person she was, and he’d sprung at her. There was nothing I could do but end his life afterwards in protection of my queen.

With what great bravery I’d shown, it was only natural that they’d want me to take her place. I reluctantly accepted, and immediately assumed my duties.

Aura had been captured however, and they threw her before me a month later. Recognition flickered over her and anxiety flooded me. She was going to tell them who I was. What had really happened. She opened her mouth and in a moment of sheer panic and desperation I motioned to the guards.

“Take her away,” I cried, “do with her what you will.”

I closed my eyes against her screams as they dragged her down the hall. It had to be done. It was necessary. It was for the best.

Three years later here I am today.

Every month the citizens from each town come to shower me with their gifts of gratitude for avenging their former ruler. And every month I laugh at their foolishness for being so easily misled, so easily manipulated into loving me as they had her. But also every month, someone would get a little too wise and I’d have to quietly arrange a little accident for them…

But one afternoon, a new figure presented itself in court. I was arrayed in my finest, seated on the magnificent golden throne in the center of the room. The girl was covered in a hooded cloak, and I could glimpse nothing but two golden braids that had fallen into view.

“Do you wish to offer a tribute?” I inquired kindly, and I praised myself inwardly for my charm.

“No.”

The reply was simple and short, but the voice in which it was spoken gave me chills. Dry and hollow it was, with no hint of emotion to break the monotony. I shivered slightly, pulling the cape tighter around my shoulders.

“Perhaps you wish to make a plea?”

This question was rewarded with a laugh. Her laugh echoed across the room, reverberating through the arched hallways and making me want to cover my ears. Then it stopped.

“Yes, I wish to make a plea,” she said lowly, gone laced with venom. “I wish to offer a riddle to our great queen.”

Though the last line may sound reverent and respectful, the malice with which it was uttered made my skin crawl.

“Then speak, and leave me,” I snapped, tempted to usher this strange personage from my court without listening.

“Metal, dirt, blood,” she begins, pacing towards the right side of my throne in slow, measured steps, “these three join in one. A chime of freedom snatched away, stabbed to death in the night.”

She fell silent, and I stared coldly at her.

“What does my Queen have to say about this?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” I responded irritably, thrown off by the gruesome undertones of her supposed “riddle”.

“Then perhaps I may rephrase my question,” the woman whispered, and she began again in a low tone. “What do you get when you cut off a prisoner’s chains and then stab them in the back?” Her voice grew louder, rising with every word until by the end of it all she was screaming at me. “What do you get…when you build an empire with from the bones of your best friends….and use their blood to paint the castle walls. What do you get…when you betray your best friend….AND LEAVE HERE TO BE CUT UP AND TORTURED AND SCRAPED UNTIL SHES HALF DEAD AND YOU THROW HER OUT SO THE BIRDS CAN PICK HER APART LIKE A PIECE OF ROTTING FLESH!?!?!?”

By this time I was terrified, my hands clutching the sides of my throne and I shrank away from the person before me.

When she came to stand in directly front of me, I recoiled as she threw back the hood. Now revealed was a face so mangled and scarred and burned that it was barely a face at all. Half of it was missing or seemingly all melted together, and I sucked in a sharp breath when recognition hit me before I could even pause to think about the words that had just been screamed at me.

Aura.