The Ruler's Rift

Gold Mining

"You've prepared everything?" Celeste asked.

Nova tapped her chin, tail flicking. "I believe so," she answered. "But are you sure you don't need more time to...adjust?"

Celeste nearly twitched, wanting to smack the fox for presuming she'd ever be ill-prepared. "I'm sure," she clarified whilst examining the dim lights of her followers' underground hideout. It creaked like an abandoned mine; shabby, but Celeste supposed it served its purpose well enough.

"Then I'll take you to the altar. I have what you need for the ritual, too." Nova said, to which Celeste quietly scoffed at. As if she'd need any help with rituals.

Nova produced a pristine skull; that of a bird, to be exact. She placed it in Celeste's hand. It stared up at her with its gaping, black sockets. Memories flushed Celeste's mind. This brooch and her mother were never apart; where Violet loomed menacingly, the skull accompanied her. Celeste gently squeezed it in her palm. "Will this be enough?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

"Of course - it's the one and only," Nova explained.

"The ritual calls for my blood and an object tied to Violet," Celeste clarified.

Nova's ear flicked and she paused momentarily. Her eyes searched the room before she said, "It was her prized possession. It will suffice, your majesty."

But the sorceress wasn't convinced. True as Nova's words may be, the brooch had no magical connection to the deceased witch and wouldn't make for a mystically potent turnout. Celeste pocketed the skull and said no more on the subject. "I'm surprised you'd remove anything from her person," she muttered.

"I wouldn't do such a thing," Nova snapped, brow tight. She flicked her wrist as if in disgust. "I had to wrestle it away from Queen Violet's sister if you can believe it!"

Icy eyes narrowed. "Amber's alive, then?" Celeste rasped.

"She's immortal and ran off into hiding, so I suppose nothing's killed her yet."

"Yet," Celeste repeated. Vengeance crusted the soft surface of her brain with rough, jagged intentions. "Before you show me to the altar, I want to pay her a visit."

Nova tilted her head.

"It will be quick. I have something to say to her," Celeste assured. "Now, tell me where she is."

Celeste killed Nova's hesitation with her relentless gaze. "An unassuming planet called Lonlerion," surrendered the fox. She lowered her head. "Amber's in the northern caves."

"Perfect, I can find her with that." Celeste focused and teleported.

Under the light rain, she traversed the northern quarry with her hood up. Her heightened senses led her to her target, yet she took the long way to clear her head. Lonlerion was a dark, cloudy world whose surface seemed ravaged yet not dead. Rain and scarce, variegated flora promised life however hidden. Charcoal-colored clouds sealed the sky, and the demon couldn't decide if it was night or simply stormy; perhaps both.

Somewhere, deep among the faraway thunder, hiding behind the shadow of lightning, or echoing between raindrops, cried the distant screams of a little girl. They contained notes of fear and pain, but Celeste made out their hateful undertones, too. She knew them well, after all - they were her own wails from an era long gone. She remembered them as if she'd never forgotten, and she recalled the weakness of her tiny hands, her unruly magic, the confusion and the horror of wondering if her mother would save her. She remembered the splintering floorboards, the thin air, and the dirt caking her porcelain skin.

But Celeste was not that weak child anymore. Her hands and claws were powerful, her magic obedient to her every will. Each step closer to the cavern, she grew angrier at her tormentor and her hunger for revenge flourished. Aunt or not, remorseful or unrepentant, Amber would pay her debt.

Celeste rounded a large boulder, soaked in rain, and beheld the gaping entrance of a cave. Lightning flashed as if mocking her, outlining the stone mouth that housed Amber somewhere in its throat.

Quiet as a predator, the demon moved toward the cave. As she approached, a dim light appeared within; probably from a weak lantern. Her steps splashed despite her efforts to stalk in silence and a stern voice called, "Nova? I told you to stay away!"

Celeste marched into the arch of the cave's maw. Out of the rain, she pulled off her hood. "Nova's not here," she hissed at the golden-haired woman before her. She stood by some shabby, wooden furnishings and held the dimmest of lanterns which barely shed any light.

Apparently it shed enough to reveal Celeste's face, for Amber stared with eyes that bore terror and awe. Thunder roared as the demon approached. "You haven't changed a bit," Celeste noted, eyeing Amber's appearance.

"And you've grown," the assassin sighed. Her gaze wouldn't meet her niece's. "You're very pretty."

"I didn't come for small talk," Celeste rasped. The dying glow of the lamp cast a tall, horned shadow upon the cavern wall. "I remember everything you've done to me."

The lamp struck the tabletop with force. Amber folded her arms. "I can already tell by your demeanor that you have," she said. "But there is something I don't know..."

"What's that?" Celeste moved closer to her aunt, backing her against the gnarled table. She stood a breath away from her, an inch or two taller than the assassin who was no dwarf in her own right. Celeste stared her down. "Well?"

Amber paused, then finally met her chocolate eyes with Celeste's blue ones. "Is your magic black like your mother's?"

Celeste's frown carved further into her face. Wrath, innate and deep, leaked into her voice. "You insult me..." she growled. "As if I would need that poison to surpass her!" Fuschia energy boiled from her sclera and she pinned Amber to the table by her throat.

Amber's eyes widened as Celeste's free hand raised, fingers curled and claws glistening in the lightning flashes. "I bet your face would look wonderful with scratches like your daughter's," she hissed.

With what slivers of air she could manage, Amber gagged, "Your cousin defended you...you'd talk about her in vain?"

"Oh, please. She could've saved me but she didn't," snapped the demon. "And just like then, there's no one here to help me. So go ahead, Amber. Whip me. Strike me. Chain me up and use my magic for your benefit..."

The assassin struggled in her vampiric niece's grip, plastering a playful smirk onto black lips. "What are you waiting for?" Celeste taunted.

Amber choked out words at last. "What are...you waiting for?" She jerked her eyes towards Celeste's raised hand.

Blue eyes drifted to the sharp claws which could tear into Amber's face at any moment. Celeste lowered her hand. "At first, I wanted to hurt you. And I just lost my temper a bit," she explained. "But on my way here, I thought up the best revenge...and it doesn't involve you bearing a scratch."

Finally, Celeste freed Amber's throat. She gasped, "Do whatever you want to me. Anything you could do I've already suffered one thousand fold from your mother."

"I'm not as short-sighted as she was," Celeste growled. Then, she smiled. "My mind goes beyond violence as a means."

"So did you only come to mock me?" Amber stood and coughed, rubbing her neck. "Just go. I don't want to hear it."

"I wanted to share the news about my coronation tonight. Figured my aunt might want to attend," Celeste snarked. "But don't worry, I despise the way your sister ruled. I'll be a far better queen so you don't need to go torturing children this time."

Amber scoffed, "Rule however you want, Celeste. I signed off a long time ago."

Celeste's eyebrow twitched, unsure if it should furrow in rage or raise in confusion. Amber's apathy managed to be unimaginably infuriating. "You really are pathetic..." Celeste growled. She put up her hood and went out into the rain.