oppositum [a (maybe) Nikolai Lantsov story] (currently being reviewed)

III*

This chapter may be a bit disturbing for some people, as I have described a corpse. Read with caution!

Nix was awakened by the faint rays of sunlight in the room. She closed her eyes and concentrated on trying to make out the heat patterns in the room. Through this exercise, Nix could see that a servant had prepared a basin for her to wash in and that the water must be boiling.

Yawning, Nix stretched and prepared to take her bath with a heavy step, when suddenly the door to the room swung open.

She turned to scold the person who had dared to disturb her awakening, but stopped short when she recognized her brother and saw how alarmed he was. His whole face screamed panic and Nix felt a strange feeling of dread in her stomach.

"Rasmus, what is the meaning of this early morning visit?

She managed to hide her panic with a smile, but the silence her younger brother took to catch his breath did not help her to remain calm. Rasmus took one of his sister's hands in his and bowed his head. He didn't say a word until his sister raised her face to his and met his tearful gaze.

"You can't let me down, brother. What's troubling you so much?

-I have bad news, Nix.

-Says

-My sister... Father died last night."

That was the end of the calm Nix. With a half cry of horror, she dropped her brother's hands and fell to the ground. Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks, and her brother joined her on the floor before taking her in his arms.

They stood there crying, arms around each other, for several minutes before Nix's croaking voice broke the silence with her sobs and sniffles.

"How? How did he die? Why?"

As the words came out of her mouth, Nix's voice grew weaker and weaker, and the last syllable she spoke was a whisper. Rasmus didn't answer her and the six-year-old helped his older sister to her feet. They looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds before Nix gave her brother a poor smile.

"Do you know if we can go and see him? Mother must be worried sick about not seeing us."

She took her brother's hand and they left the room without a sound. There was no one in the corridors and an unaccustomed silence reigned on their way to the royal suite.

When they reached the door of their parents' room, Nix took a deep breath and squeezed her brother's hand even harder, as if to reassure him and herself at the same time.

In the room were a dozen or so men in white, doctors circling the King's body like vultures around a piece of meat. Nix and Rasmus went first to their mother, collapsed on the silk sofa. When she saw the two children coming, she stood up and took her son in her arms. Nix noticed that she had not cried. Her eyes were as dry as the desert but her clothes were crumpled, as if hastily put on. The young child brushed this observation from her mind and turned away from the mother and son to speak to the royal physician who was sitting in a chair nearby.

The man had a haggard look on his face and it took Nix several minutes to get his attention.

"Tell me what happened. How my father died."

The man ran his hand over his face and hesitated to tell the seven-year-old the reason for the king's death. But Nix's determined look convinced him.

"Your father, Princess, died because of his allergy."

-An allergy? Which one?" Nix asked curiously, her father had none that she knew of, and this new information surprised her.

"You see, the late king was allergic to the aura the Grishas gave off when they used their powers. His body stored this aura and ate your father up from the inside. According to my colleague's analysis, he had been seeing a Grisha for two years."

The princess had become mute and her eyes were lost in an infinite blur. The doctor put a hand on the girl's shoulder to try to give her some comfort. But Nix pulled away from the touch and rushed to the bed where her father's body still lay.

Before she could reach him, a soldier stopped her, and just as he was about to open his mouth to forbid her to approach the remains, Nix put a hand on the man's arm and looked up into his eyes. The young man shuddered as he met the princess's gaze. Her eyes were almost glassy. Lifeless. No flame to animate them.

"Let me go."

Her voice had a gravity that didn't suit her small body and her tone exuded authority. The soldier felt a drop of cold sweat run down his spine but did not move. He gave the girl a sympathetic look before answering.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but I can't let you through. These are my orders."

A disdainful, false smile played across Nix's lips and the voice that rose was full of contempt.

"Queen. I am your Queen soldier. And I order you to get the hell out."

The man suddenly realized his mistake. The King was dead. Nix was not only a Princess now. But a Queen. Stammering an inaudible apology, he dropped to his knees in front of the seven-year-old girl. Seeing one of their own kneeling before Nix, the other three soldiers understood the situation and in one movement bowed down to the young child. Quickly, the doctors bowed their heads in respect and the few maids in the room melted into deep curtsies.

Without a glance at her mother or brother, Nix passed the soldier and slowly continued on her way to her father's bed. When she reached the bed, she took the shroud covering his face and withdrew it with a quick movement. At the sight of the body, the seven-year-old girl gagged and put her hand to her mouth.

The skin on her father's face looked as if it had been drained of blood and the muscles in his face had probably melted, because his skin was falling off, like melted plastic or rubber that had been forgotten to stick to his skull. But it was the smell. The smell of death and decay filled the room. Nix gently placed the cloth back over her father's face before turning, glancing around the room and without another word, leaving.

The corridors were cold. Lifeless. Like her father. He was dead. Cold. Lifeless.

Nix ran, not wanting to stay in the castle another minute. Her nightgown carried the smell of death. The smell of her father's corpse. Going outside, the morning cold ruffled the fuzz on her arms, but that wasn't what she was interested in. Her skin. Her skin smelled of death. Getting rid of it was her only goal. As the bells of the ancient clock chimed to announce the death of the king, Nix began to rub her arm on the trunk of the Sacred Tree. Her skin turned red and peeled off. Blood flowed. But the smell was replaced. Death no longer floated around the child. Only the memory of her father's body haunted her thoughts.

Nix looked up at the branches of the tree and suddenly dropped to her knees in front of it.

"What have I done?" Tears began to flow down her cheeks, reddened by the cold. "I killed my father... His blood is on my hands." The girl looked down at her hands, stained by her own blood that kept dripping from her wounds. "I swear to you, Djel, that I will never use this cursed power again. And I will exterminate all those who wish to harm my family." A glint of madness lit up Nix's eyes. "Those Grisha bastards... I am a monster, but thanks to my country, I will kill them all and then I will kill myself!"

She stood up and placed her forehead and a hand on the tree trunk. In a whisper, she promised her god: "I will serve you after I remove my power, Djel. I will become a drüskelle."

No sooner had she said her promise than her name was called out by a voice behind her. Nix cut off any contact she had with Djel and turned towards the voice. But before her everything was a blur. She had lost far too much blood and her head began to spin. The person who had called her gave a cry of distress and rushed towards the young child. Nix, on the other hand, had a smile on her lips and dropped down with a final gasp.

"Let my cure begin."

rewritten the 29/04/2023