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Author’s Note: For this prompt, ‘Charge’, I’ve toyed with the idea of writing an evil queen character arc set in ancient Japan. Charge is the metaphor for the price the main character must pay in order to use her magic, even if for ill intentions. I wrote this in a writing slump / depression, it’s not my best work. This is a theme I’d like to rewrite as a novella in the future.
Synopsis: Dahlia is reeling from the loss of her husband almost decade ago. As Empress she blames her people for his death and makes their life a misery. One day a spritely girl stands up for her people and Dahlia makes an example of her. Will Dahlia regain the trust of her people or does destiny have a crueller fate in mind?276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjfRWo6g3BJ
"All magic comes at a price."
The words spoken by the gilded mirror that haunted Dahlia, yet she couldn't deny its wise words. Not once had the decoration steered her wrong in the last decade. A decade since her husband gave his life to save his people. A decade she'd hidden herself in isolation, torturing the people of Shirakawa from afar, for their contribution to his death.
That fateful day hadn't just stolen her beloved husband, it'd robbed her of her beauty. A thin veil draped across her face, hiding the vicious scars she'd sustained from the fire, an obsidian crown rested on top. Dahlia rarely stepped foot outside the doors, unless accompanied by the royal army, a creation of soulless bloodstone golems.
Dahlia turned to her mirror, admiring her now beautiful reflection, 'I'm aware of the costs,' she said sternly. 'But I need a dozen of my soldiers animated.'
'As you wish,' the mirror replied.
In an instant, the silent sentry formed before her, their heads bowed, awaiting further commands. Dahlia cascaded down the steps, turning away from her beloved mirror and towards the crimson warriors.
'All magic comes with a price,' the mirror repeated, as the wisp departed.
Dahlia pursed her lips, she didn't need the constant reminder of her magic's limitations. She peered down at her pale hand, a deep set scar appeared on her palm. A painful reminder of her accident, and the toll using magic had on her. Soon she'd need to find a permanent solution to restoring her reserves, but was yet to find a cure.
The empress arrived in the centre of town, within the hour, on horseback. Her stalactite army marched behind on foot. Their soulless eyes haunting every villager as they passed. The townspeople knew what her arrival meant. Taxes were due. Families rushed into their homes counting and collecting their purses before hurrying to the town square. A marble statue carved to resemble the late emperor stood like a sentinel watching over his people. Half a dozen of the townspeople bowed before him, making peaceful offerings in his honour.
Dahlia dismounted her horse, handing the reins to one soldier. 'I trust you know why I stand before you today,' she announced to her people. There were a few mumbles in the crowd. She raised her arm towards the heavens and clicked her fingers once. Her soldiers descended on the townspeople, ripping the coin purses from their hands. Stealing what little they had amongst them. The empress didn't need their coin but it was an effective power trip that kept them in line after her husband's death.
'You can't do this,' a voice called out from the crowd. A voice that attracted Dahlia's attention, her brows knitted together. She turned her focus to a young girl, cradling an older civilian, a frail old woman sobbed into her shoulder. A pair of bloodstone soldiers towered over the pair, their katanas drawn. 'We can't afford your taxes, this is all we have. Leave us alone,' the girl continued to beg, shielding the old woman.
'Raven, don't,' the elder cried, begging her granddaughter to stop her quarry.
Dahlia scowled, making her way over to the outburst, 'Now, this won't do,' she said, folding her arms across her chest. 'You know the rules, pay or face the consequences.' She met the girl's eyes, determination and bravery stared her down like daggers.
Why is she not intimidated like the rest? Dahlia thought to herself.
The situation unnerved the empress, never in the last decade had someone stood up against her. The girl ushered the older woman inside their home before standing off against the bloodstone soldiers.
'You can't keep doing this,' the girl said sternly. 'You've taken every last coin from us, you've strung us out of our homes. Our farmlands are dying, the crops are withering, and yet you've increased the taxes with little benefit for our people while you sit in your palace living a life of luxury.'
At this point the townspeople began to swarm at the scene, a chorus of chatter erupted, questioning the Empress and her motives. Dahlia growled, she couldn't have them disobeying her. She needed to make an example of the girl swiftly.
Dahlia narrowed her eyes, 'Seize her,' she ordered the soldiers, flicking her wrist in the girl's direction and returning to her horse. As she stormed through the townspeople scattered like insects, scurrying away to their homes.
Raven's wrists were clamped in iron shackles and hauled behind the Empress by the bloodstone soldiers until they reached the ruby palace. Her clothes were in tatters and her feet dirtied by the time they entered the throne room. The young girl gasped for breath as she tumbled to the marble, forced to kneel before the tyrant.
Dahlia stood at the top of her steps, admiring her glamoured reflection in her gilded mirror. 'Take me to the dungeons,' she ordered, not willing to make eye contact as the girl was carted off.
'Why are you doing this?' Raven cried, 'The Emperor wouldn't allow his people to be treated this way.
Something within Dahlia erupted, 'How dare you!' she bellowed, tearing herself away from the mirror, her golden eyes aflame. 'The Emperor is dead. I rule this land now. Remember your place.'
The girl didn't reply, she merely scoffed at the notion, smug she'd hit a nerve. Raven finally understood why the Empress denied her people their personal pleasures. She'd been a babe in arms when the fire consumed her home and stole both her parents. The Emperor had been the one to save her life, even if it meant giving up his own.
Dahlia watched her leave, her brows knitted together. She turned back to her mirror, 'Why does the girl feel familiar?' she queried, unable to place her face.
The wisp in the mirror materialised into view, 'She was the babe the Emperor saved, his life was taken in exchange, so that she might live,' it claimed.
The Empress snarled, 'She's the reason my husband is dead?'
'All magic comes with a price,' the wisp chanted.
'What must I do to be rid of her?' Dahlia asked, desperation clung in her throat.
'You wish to restore your magic and be free of the girl,' the wisp said, 'Kill the girl and consume her heart and you will fulfil your desires.'
A grim smile appeared on Dahlia's lips, 'Simple enough,' she replied, waving her hand over the mirror, dismissing the wisp. She cascaded down the steps and snapped her fingers to summon a single soldier. He stormed through the double doors and bowed before the Empress.
'Take the girl from the dungeon and to the forbidden woods on the edge of town,' Dahlia ordered. 'Do not return until you've carved her beating heart out of her chest.' She flicked her wrist, a crimson chest materialised in her palm, she handed it to the soldier. 'Do not return until you've completed this task.'
The soldier bowed his head and accepted his task. The Empress dismissed him cruelly, slinking back to her mirror gazing longingly at her own beautiful reflection. He marched out of the throne room and down to the dungeons in the basement of the palace.
Raven was huddled in the corner of her cell, her clothes torn to rags and her flesh caked in dirt. Shackles gripped her wrists and ankles, not a single drop of water nor a slice of bread had passed her lips despite being unfairly captive for several hours. She heard the dungeon door open, the fate crack of light pouring in, like freedom called out to her. But her hopes were shattered when the bloodstone soldier marched in, his face devoid of any emotion. No telltale sign of the Empress's plan for her.
As the soldier reached her cell, every fibre in Raven's body froze. A chill spider-climbed down her spine. She wondered if this is where she'd met her end, wondering why she hadn't listened to her grandmother. Why did she feel the need to prove herself against the tyrant Empress? A single girl couldn't measure up to her wrath. The townspeople were suffering, just like her grandmother, struggling to work and earn the coin with her illness and for what? So the Empress could build another luxury palace while her people starved.
To Raven's surprise, the soldier unlocked her cell. She stared up at him with dark orbs that threatened to water. She didn't want to die for a stupid mistake, but her mind drifted, wondering how many of the townspeople had found themselves in her situation beforehand. This cruel cycle had to end, the sooner the better. The soldier stepped into the cell and hauled her up by her chains. She stumbled onto her feet, her soles still sore from her last walk.
'Where are you taking me?' Raven asked, her body catching a slight chill. The bloodstone golem didn't acknowledge her words, he simply yanked her from the cell, dragging the girl behind him as he walked out of the dungeons and into the cold open air.
The breeze refreshed Raven, her lungs gasping for clear air after being trapped in a stifling environment. She didn't care where they were going and followed in silence as the soldier walked her like cattle, down a winding stone path and to the edge of an eerie looking forward.
Skeleton trees lined the road, their bark black like ash. A murder of crows sat on the withered branches, cawing to each other. The forest was devoid of humanity, nothing grew in its wild snare. Bare bones picked to death hugged the tree trunks, wisps of weeds sprouting amongst them.
Fear instilled inside Raven's heart. While she'd received her wish of freedom, she didn't believe it would last much longer. This eerie woodland was to be her tomb, never to see her beloved grandmother again. So this was what the Empress did to those who disobeyed her, to those who questioned her motives. She'd earnt this fate, and she wouldn't be the last to suffer from it.
The soldier kept tugging on the shackles, hauling the young girl further into the darkness. Raven tried to keep her eyes shut, unwilling to stare at the horrors that had befell those before her. Under foot the soil scratched her soles, dry and coarse, shards of stone cutting her flesh. The crows caws filled her ears, paired with the trudging of the soldier's boots filled her with dread. She wondered if her death would be quick and painless, or would he leave her to rot instead.
His boots stopped as they reached the centre of the eerie forest. Raven couldn't decipher which way was out even if she'd taken the time to look. The soldier fastened the shackles to a nearby tree, rendering her powerless to struggle.
'Please don't do this,' she pleaded, but the soldier's mind had been made up long before they'd stepped into the forest. He rose a dagger from his hip, his vacant gaze staring deep inside her soul. He paused, watching the girl shiver under his knife, but instead of driving it through his heart he sliced through her binds.
Raven waited for him to raise the dagger once more, but he just turned away from her, granting her freedom. She seized it, running for her life through the unknown territory, hunting for the exit. She stole a glance behind her, witnessing the soldier carve a heart from a wild animal and disappearing into the darkness. Raven retrained her focus, following the caws of crows that taunted her by the entrance, they were her saving grace to freedom. She continued to run until her feet blistered, unknowingly running out of the forest and collapsing as she reached the edge of her hometown.
'Help, someone bring water,' a citizen shouted. Half a dozen people rallied around the fallen girl. One helped her sit, while another helped her drink.
'It's Opal's girl.' another called.
Raven's grandmother hurried to her side, 'My poor sweet girl, what has happened to you?' she asked, but the girl could barely speak. 'She did this. That wretched woman has stolen enough of our happiness, enough of our freedom. This cannot continue.' she spoke to the small crowd huddled around the pair. Urging her neighbours to fight. They joined her plea, rallying together for anything that could be used as a weapon before they stormed the Empress's lair.
Back inside the ruby palace, the bloodstone soldier returned from his mission. The box he'd been given, beating with a low hum.
'I trust it has been done?' Dahlia glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge his presence. The soldier bowed his head and raised the box up towards her. She cascaded her steps, opening the lid to see a crimson heart beating before her. A sly smile graced her lips as she lifted the organ to her mouth like an apple and devoured it as she moved back to the mirror.
'Well, is it done?' she asked, wiping the crimson liquid from her lips.
The wisp materialised in the mirror, 'What you consumed was not the heart of the girl, but the heart of an animal,' it said bluntly.
Dahlia gripped the gilded frame, anger swelled within her. She flew to her bloodstone soldier, 'What have you done?' she demanded an answer, but in the image she'd created, he did not utter a reply. His vacant face only stared back at her. Dahlia drew his katana, slicing it through the crystal. The soldier shattered into tiny rubies, scattering across the marble tiles. She returned to her beloved mirror, noting her reflection altered. Her glamour was fading faster than before.
'What is happening to me?'
'All magic comes at a price,' the wisp in the mirror replied. 'You have not heeded my warnings and now you are powerless.'
'No,' Dahlia screamed, tearing the mirror from the wall and smashing it against the marble. Her question was answered, within minutes the double doors flung open. The army of townspeople marched into the throne room wielding pitchforks and lit torches. A chorus of angry screams erupted.
Dahlia snarled, 'How dare you enter my palace.' She stood, raising her hands to the ceiling, the last dozen of her bloodstone soldiers dropped to the floor, standing as a barrier between the Empress and her people.
But the people didn't buckle as they did before, instead they held strong, slamming their makeshift weapons into the stone. Without Dahlia's magic they were nothing but brittle statues. Nothing stood between her and the people.
They threw the torches, encasing Dahlia in a prison of flames. There was no hope for her, instead she accepted her fate. Her screams echoing throughout the hall, the townspeople scuttered away, choosing their lives over hers.
'All magic comes with a price.' She whispered to herself. In her final moment, Dahlia saw her husband one final time, his smiling face calling her to the afterlife. 276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtoWU0QlOS2
