2412, Varkala 02, Kindreth
April stared out of the balcony of her room, taking a deep breath. The air was fresh, and the rancid traces of the war were nothing but a memory now. Outside, the rest of Lanteglos spread out, giving her a quick look of the territory she had grown to be at peace with despite spending a while torching it down. There was a different kind of beauty to land that's tied to the ground. That kind of permanence was something April craved for a long time.
Without the threat of the Sovereign and the Heiress, Falkirta was safe once more. The spell keeping it floating was forever purged from the island, and for that, April was grateful. She liked things the way they were. Destruction had no room in Umazure, and she was glad she wasn't in the forefront of protecting it. That life's long gone.
This April Sylkrana, despite not having a concrete definition, was the most peaceful she had ever been, and even though things might change for the worse in the future, this moment right here was everything she needed.
She lived, and after being summoned by the Seelie Court for the second time and making it to Edgerift without shot at, she was pulled into a rushed meeting with the rest of the heirs—powerful people from all the territories in the island—and informed they'd all withdraw from the War of Queens the Seelie Court was planning.
June, of course, was provided amnesty when the High Queen's atrocities were brought to light, by none other than him. Murder after murder, June confessed he acted under their mother's bidding, and that a threat to his life and his loved ones' was made if he didn't comply. As for the High Queen's murder, Master Quinxus, the head of the Seelie Court and therefore, the acting Imperial Sovereign, revealed that her death by June's hand was a product of a prophecy—one they tried to circumvent.
April should know. One would never outrun fate as it would come calling. It would always be calling.
And so, even her original notion of avenging her mother fell flat. Whatever Nevrin Sylkrana did so wrong to incur the wrath of the gods was beyond April and the care she was willing to give. She couldn't even find the reason for the events in her life.
A distinct knock rang behind her. She turned away from the balcony to find a familiar woman by the door. "You sure you're not going to close this?" Kymalin, the sly banshee with a distracting smile, stood by the doorway, a hand resting on the handle cast in gold. "There may be unwanted guests."
"That'll be you," April rolled her eyes but didn't fight the slight smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She turned back to the rest of Lanteglos and trained her eyes to the chaos happening below. Behind her, footsteps shuffled until a familiar presence settled beside her.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," came Kymalin's answer as she joined April in leaning their elbows against the marble balustrade of the balcony.
Without another word, they watched two figures tramp into the landscaped grass. The green carpet splotched with pinks, yellows, and purples was largely untouched by the war, save for the visible scorch marks which April didn't want to know the story of.
The first person was none other than Xanthy. Dressed in a simple dress, it's as if her coronation as the Umazure's next High Queen didn't happen yesterday. The other person could only be her brother, going along with Xanthy as she rambled about something. Judging from their facial expressions, they're in the middle of a banter.
Xanthy said something, which prompted June to grab her hand and pull her close to him. Then, he began to fix her position as if he's teaching her to dance the raltz.
"Sucks, doesn't it?" Kymalin's voice spoke April's thoughts before she even manifested them.
April whirled to find the banshee turning away from the scene to crane her neck towards the Imperial Palace's spires. From this height, they didn't seem as eternal as April thought. "What does?" she prodded.
Kymalin snorted. "Nothing," she said.
"Listen, I..." April pursed her lips, swallowing the words fighting to crawl out of her mouth. "Never mind."
The banshee's golden eyes flicked to her for a brief moment. "What is it?"
Should she say it? It's too tacky. "Thanks for..." April rolled her tongue to force it to smooth out the next words. "Thank you for that adventure."
A soft chuckle made her look away from the morning sun and back to Kymalin's face. That laugh...gods, it's sweet. "If you meant blasting through the Ice Capital, then by all means, it's my pleasure," the banshee said. "But I don't think I deserved to be thanked. Especially not for that."
April looked away. "You're right. What was I thinking?" she shook her head. "I can be stupid sometimes, you know? Yet I claim to be wise and all that crap. But...if not for that, we wouldn't have met."
Kymalin answered by sidling next to April again. Their shoulders almost touched, and it took everything in April's system to never point that out. She tuned back to Xanthy and June on the ground.
"I never pegged you to be the sentimental kind," Kymalin said. "What changed?"
April rolled her eyes. "We've just been through a literal war," she said. "You're seriously asking me that?"
"Fair point," Kymalin answered, that lopsided smile showing off her crooked teeth never leaving her face. It's a stark contrast to the frown the banshee wore all the time when they first met.
April inclined her head to one side and returned Kymalin's smile. "So, what did you come here for?" she asked, pushing them off to the terrifying thing she kept on wondering about but too hesitant to venture into. "It can't be because you want to see me."
"Stop selling yourself short," Kymalin replied. "I came here to see you. Invite you to a meal, maybe."
At that, a snort flitted off April's nostrils. "Can't be more direct, can you?"
"I don't like wasting time," came Kymalin's gentle but stern answer.
"Same on that front," April peeled off the balustrade just in time for a squeal to ring from the ground. Xanthy had apparently tripped on her feet in her attempt to learn the raltz or whatever complicated dance June had her on. June caught her too late, sending them sprawling on top of each other on the grass.
Watching felt like a criminal activity now.
"Let's get out of here," April jerked her chin towards the doors thrown wide open. "I fancy a dairycone just now."
She strode into the ornamented corridor, not checking if Kymalin went with her. But, by the gods of Calaris, she hoped so.
April Sylkrana hoped so.
YOU ARE READING
TUW 8: Death in the Empire
FantasyAPRIL SYLKRANA IS DETERMINED TO RISE. After the devastating news of her mother, the Imperial High Queen's, death, she only has one job before she can take what is rightfully hers: kill her half-brother, June. Not only is he elusive and serious about...