Canna Imperial Castle
Present
This was the third time Yumi was bringing her lean fingers to the perfectly structured necklace on her neck.
It was a subtle reminder that she was exactly where she needed to be. But if she had a choice, she would have chosen otherwise.
She was seated on one of the chairs at the head of the long table with the kind of composure that made the whole chamber bend around her.
The council elders spoke in turns, their aged voices filling the hall in a tiresome stream of opinions.
They wagged their tongues with the confidence of men who had mistaken years for wisdom.
She was already getting a headache from their torturous voice, yet she allowed them to continue; there was discipline in her silence.
One of the members made a comment that caught her attention, and the corner of her mouth tightened by the smallest degree. It was a subtle thing, almost easy to miss.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes flickering ahead to the empty chair across the table.
Seated right there should be her husband Gotham, yet he was nowhere to be found.
Not truly lost, but simply ignorant, leaving all the burden for her to shoulder while he withered away under the bodies of women.
Her face was dead cold; it was almost impossible to make out her thoughts just by looking at her.
Just then a maid scurried into the room like a scared rat, her face pale, her feet moving towards Yumi's side.
Her head was bowed low as she crossed the chamber, careful not to disturb the solemnity of the gathering.
When she got to where Yumi was seated, she lowered her mouth to Yumi's ears and then whispered some words before bowing and quickly taking her leave.
For a brief moment, something almost weary passed over Yumi's features, something humane.
Then it vanished as swiftly as it came; she readjusted the countenance of her face.
She pressed her lips together, then drew in a deep breath, her fingers curled inwards, and with a voice loud enough to command soldiers, she said,
"Silence!
The elders, so eager moments ago, fell into the hush they should have kept from the start.
She finally leaned forward, and every wandering gaze in that hall returned to her.
"Lord Fedrich, do well to remind me of the pending petitions, and I will see to it that they are taken care of."
She said, pushing the chair she was seated on backwards before rising to her feet. The blue gown she was wearing pooled heavily at her feet.
"This gathering is therefore dismissed."
She didn't wait for any of them to comment before turning around to leave.
"But, Your Grace…you have not said a word…"
Yumi's steps faltered; she tilted her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, and the rest of his words died in his throat.
"If I were you, Lord Galden, I would desist from bartering words with your queen."
She replied coldly and watched as he pressed his lips together, already feeling embarrassed.
She turned away, her dark hair swaying with that motion. The sound of her shoes echoed in the serene room until she exited through the door.
In Canna, women were not cast aside in matters of state, and Yumi had long since proven herself no mere ornament of the crown.
In all her years beside Gotham, she had shown herself to be a queen of rare intellect and formidable resolve. Many kingdoms looked upon Canna with caution, not only because of its armies but also because Yumi sat upon its throne as the queen.
The queen of vengeance, that was what she was called. She never had mercy for her enemies, always sweet-talking her husband towards waging war against their nemesis.
Once she was away from prying eyes, the stern countenance on Yumi's face faltered.
The maid that had walked into the room a few moments ago found herself beside Yumi, her eyes lowered to the ground.
"Are you certain of what you say, Mira?"
She asked, but already she dreaded the answer to that question.
"I am certain, Your Grace." Mira replied before hurrying forward; Yumi was walking at a fast pace.
"And Kaal?"
She asked about taking a turn towards a lonely pathway, rarely used by others.
"He has fallen into a trance once more, Your Grace. The girl is convulsing, and he says nothing about it, except that it is the will of the gods."
Yumi's face fell.
They walked through dim corridors until at last they passed through a hidden door concealed behind old stonework.
Beyond it lay a forgotten tunnel that descended deep beneath the castle, winding downward in cold spiral steps.
Few knew of that passage. Only three souls in all the castle knew of it, and it shouldn't come as a surprise that Yumi's husband wasn't in any way among the three souls who held this secret.
When at last they entered an inner chamber, Yumi's heart nearly stopped.
Upon the bed was a young woman, jerking violently. Her eyes had turned ghastly white, the blue pupils in her eyes had vanished, and her limbs trembled against the sheets.
Yumi stumbled to the side of the bed, crossing the room effortlessly.
"Good gods, when shall this suffering end?"
She was deeply pained, her hands clutched at the folds of her gown as she watched, unable to do a thing.
"The day you acknowledge her fate, the suffering shall cease," came an aged voice from the shadows. "And every sin demanded of it will come to an end."
Yumi turned at once just in time to see Priest Kaal stepping forward from the dim corner where he had stood unseen.
His face was marred with deep wrinkles; he had an aquiline nose, and his eyes were hollow and sunken.
Around his neck hung an ancient necklace, and his fingers moved over it endlessly, caressing it as though his life depended on it.
"Priest Kaal," Yumi said, her voice breaking, "save her. I beg you, save my daughter. She is dying."
Tears stung her eyes as she sat beside the bed, her eyes shifting to the child she had fought so long to keep.
For twenty years she had carried this secret.
Twenty years of silence. Twenty years of dread. Twenty years of watching fate circle ever nearer.
"Save her," Yumi whispered again, wiping the tears streaming down her face.
"Nothing can be done," Kaal said coldly. "I warned you long ago. It was to be her life, or Katie's. You would not listen. Your stubbornness has brought this ruin upon your household."
His voice grew with rage, and his eyes darkened as he gazed at the girl on the bed before looking away.
"The gods were clear, Yumi. You heard the prophecy as I did."
Then, with dreadful calm, he drew forth a knife.
Its blade caught the dim light in the room, coming from a single candle.
"Kill her," he said. "End this at last."
Yumi stared at the weapon as though it were some monstrous object.
"No…" she whimpered, shaking her head violently from side to side.
"I will double the offerings to your temple," she said, rising halfway from the bed. "I will raise new shrines in your name. Your bloodline shall know wealth for generations. Only do not let Joya die. I beg you."
Kaal's expression did not soften.
"It is beyond gold," he said. "Beyond temples. Beyond wealth, herbs and all the things riches can offer. You were there, Yumi. You remember."
And she did remember.
She remembered that cursed night with terrible clarity.
She had labored for hours, suspended between life and death, only to be told at last that one of her daughters was destined to die for the other to live.
"One child must die so that the other might live. Their fates are bound together."
Those were his very words the night he was brought in by Simon, as per Yumi's request.
Twins too close by blood and spirit. Such a bond was not a blessing but a curse in the eyes of the gods.
If both were allowed to live, one would one day suffer for the other. In the end, only one could remain.
Yumi had refused him.
Refused the gods. Refused the prophecy. Refused to place a blade on her own child.
Instead, she had summoned Mira in secret. She had heard the story of Mira from her guard, a woman who was abandoned by her husband because she was barren.
"Take this baby," she had said, placing one of the newborn girls into Mira's arms, the sick one.
"When we return to the castle, you will say she is yours. No one must know she has a twin. My husband will be told I bore him a child, a daughter. From today on, she is your responsibility; she is your daughter as she is mine. Do you accept this?"
Without doubt Mira was overjoyed, a child to call her own. She took the baby from Yumi's hands and made her Joya.
From that night onward, Mira became not merely a midwife but one of Yumi's closest attendants. To seek Kaal's consultation, she had him brought with them to the castle.
He was the reason why they won so many battles. Before Canna waged any war, she always consulted him about the thoughts of the gods, whether or not they would be victorious.
Kaal was the shield backing her up, and she grew more bold with every enemy she slaughtered.
For years, the secret slept.
But as Joya grew, her health began to fail in strange and awful ways. There were days when all color drained from her face, days when she would not eat, nights when fever wrung the strength from her limbs.
In all this she never remembered it was a cycle that repeated itself; whenever she woke up, she always had no memory of herself or anyone for that matter.
That was the only blessing that had accompanied the curse; she would never remember her suffering once she closed her eyes to sleep.
It was an ailment no physician could name and no remedy could cure. And all the while, Yumi knew.
"If she survives, Katie dies," Kaal said now, taking another step forward, his voice low and brutal. "How many more years must pass before you cease warring against fate?"
Before Yumi could answer, the convulsions ceased.
Joya's body became still.
Her breathing, which had been broken and ragged, suddenly eased.
Yumi exhaled shakily, overcome with relief.
Bending close, she pressed a trembling kiss to the girl's forehead.
"My lady, the king has requested your presence at once."
Mira appeared once more at her side before flashing a glance at Joya.
Dapping the tears on her cheeks with the handkerchief she drew out from her bosom, she slowly rose from the bed.
Before leaving, she cast one last glance over her shoulder towards Joya, then Mira.
Then she turned around and made her way back through the staircase.
By the time she reached the great hall again, she had schooled her face into a fierce and cold countenance.
"My lord," she said upon entering the throne room, where Gotham was; out of custom, she did a low courtesy.
Gotham was seated at ease on a throne, with a cup of wine in his hand, his gaze lowered to a scroll.
"What was so urgent," he began unbothered, "that it could not wait until the meeting ended?"
Yumi did not hesitate to answer his question.
"There was unrest among the women of the concubines' court. I went to settle it."
It was a flawless lie. She had long mastered the art of false serenity. She had worn it through years of marriage. Worn it in counsel. Worn it even while he made love to her.
She did not love her husband. She was certain of that.
Before more could be said, a guard rushed into the chamber, breathless from haste.
"Your Majesties," he said, bowing low, "a gift has arrived from Decreash."
That caught both their attention.
Gotham and Yumi exchanged a glance.
"Bring it to the throne room," Gotham commanded. With a puzzled look, he turned to steal a glance at his wife, but she looked just as clueless as he was.
When the gift was brought in, even the guards strained beneath the weight of the box.
It took five men to drag the massive box across the hall.
Gotham looked pleased; he took a sip from his wine before going ahead to say,
"I told you that giving Katie to Ragaleon was a wise decision."
He boasted, but Yumi said nothing; her eyes were fixed on the gift, which in a way was confined in what looked like a coffin.
"Open it," Gotham ordered.
The guards knelt and set to work with the key that had accompanied the gift.
The lock gave way immediately when the key was inserted, and slowly the lid was lifted.
Then silence fell.
The guards froze.
Whatever they saw inside robbed the color from their faces. Fear descended among them like frost.
Yumi frowned.
"What is it?" she demanded. "What lies in the box?"
No one answered.
At last, the guards tipped the chest, and something fell from within. A body
It rolled from the coffin down to the floor, and a pungent smell escaped the coffin, lingering in the atmosphere.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
Gotham rose from his throne, his face as white as winter ash. He descended the steps leading to the throne at a slow, disbelieving pace. Then faster and faster until he reached the body lying on the floor.
He refused to touch it, but suddenly a hand from beside him shot forward, then turned the body over; it was Yumi.
A scream tore from her throat when she caught a glimpse of the face of the corpse, and her hand flew to her mouth as she turned away almost immediately.
"No…" Yumi choked. "No… Katie…"
She darted her gaze back to the body before dropping to the floor, and then she gathered the corpse into her arms.
"My daughter, who…who did this to you? Who!
She sobbed, cradling the lifeless form against her lap. Gotham was forced to look away for a splitting moment.
For a long while he said nothing. When he turned towards the direction of the corpse, he could only watch his wife weep over the daughter he had handed away like tribute.
"My sweet child, speak to me… speak to me now…"
Yumi's eyes gathered tears, but she refused to shed them; eventually the tears trickled down her cheeks.
When she lifted her tear-streaked face to her husband, she was filled with grief.
"Look at what you have done!" she cried.
"This is your doing. You caused this, Gotham; you have killed our daughter!
She screamed over the body again, then let out a terrifying shout.
"Katie!"
Gotham was forced to draw Yumi up from the floor. She tried to resist him, but he held her to himself, refusing to let go.
"I told you, didn't I? Not to give her away to the Scorpion King. I warned you not to give her away to Ragaleon as a wife, but you didn't listen to me." She said, hitting her fist against his hard chest, again and again, but he did not flinch.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her against him.
"Take the body away," he ordered, his voice cold as steel.
"No!" Yumi fought against his grasp, but he held her in place, one hand stroking her hair with a chilling tenderness.
Then, with her face buried against his chest, her voice changed.
The grief remained, but beneath something had awakened.
"Avenge her," she said with bloodshot eyes.
"Avenge our daughter, Gotham."
........
Far below, in the hidden chamber, Priest Kaal stood beside the bed, his fingers moving over the ancient necklace at his throat.
His eyes were closed, but suddenly they fluttered open, and his eyes moved towards the young woman lying on the bed.
Then suddenly, the body jerked upright.
For the first time in many years, the eyes of the woman lying on the bed opened, revealing vibrant crystal blue eyeballs, clear and bright with life.
Kaal shook his head from side to side pitifully. He already knew what this meant: the other twin was dead.
"For many years I have awaited this hour," he murmured.
He looked upon the awakened girl with grave certainty.
"At last," he continued with a heavy breath, "the prophecy has been fulfilled.