In Memory of Fox, Not Costello

Two

Rura Cole

Malka was asleep when the Concord caught on fire. Well, everyone thought she was, and it was dark, but she wasn't.

Malka, Queen of Rura Cole, could not sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her caged bed for hours in the nighttime, but even an inkling of sleep could not manage to fall in her eyes. Shadows danced behind her eyelids, so she did not shut them. Instead, she woke and stood and walked to her mirror, looking at her disheveled state. Her hair was in knots on top of her head and her makeup was smeared into clown-like tears below her eyes.

Perhaps she was still energetic from the fights in the arena that afternoon. After Blade and Ambrose had fought, and Blade had been released, two more fought, this time a man, who was arrested for assault, and a woman, who was arrested for stealing food. After almost an hour of enticing fighting, the woman won, effectively suffocating the man, and earning her freedom. And as much the queen loved blood and death and violence, there was something else. A lingering taste of the future in her unease. Something was going to happen.

It was as if someone was trying to tell her something. Malka looked into her reflection. The Eclipse was in three days. Three. And the ball in two. What was she doing thinking of nonsense? The people were fine, she needn't worry about them. And she wasn't, but she still reassured herself, if only to ensure she didn't worry about them.

She walked to her window, pulling the curtains back, too lazy to call and wait for the help to wake and do it. The moonlight streamed through the glass panes, lighting the floor in a blue haze. From her palace in North Amekitus, she got a perfect view of the Concord, inside it, Asteria, in her melancholy angelic glory.

Malka turned, shuffling to her vanity, where there sat a small egg-blue teacup. Starting to fall asleep, she carelessly tossed a Tea Dart into the porcelain cup, watching it expand and liquify into a steaming cup of tea. Palming the cup, she wandered back to the window, slowly lowering herself onto her pillow seat, admiring the moon.

If Malka was finally feeling tired, the bright flash of red in the center of the Concord surely woke her back up. It flashed again before disappearing. It flared a third time before finally lighting up the monument in the fire. Flames enveloped the pillars, setting everything ablaze. All but Asteria. In the center of the fire, she stood, her face eerily lit up into a frightening frown.

Malka smiled. She hadn't committed this crime, but whoever did, she honored them. They finally took a risk she was too proud to take. Burned Asteria down. Her people were so obsessed with the dead woman, and now, the fire would kill her a second time. It would kill her memory.

Perfectly timed, a single drop of rain fell from the sky and onto her eye, running down her cheek.

Malka smiled again.

Burn, baby, burn.