Hexe - The Great Exodus

[CH. 0031] - Winterqueen

The Central Council of Magi at Whitestone Palace is a pivotal institution in our Great Continent history. Of all the judges who presided there, Magi Regala Messe stands out. Renowned not for fairness or conventional methods, Regala is famous for his unwavering authority and ability to challenge anyone, regardless of their status or power. This trait, his readiness to confront even the most powerful rulers, makes him a formidable presence in the courtroom. It was due to this unyielding nature that he maintained his position from Fall to Summer, serving as a stark reminder that in his court, power was always to be questioned and scrutinized. ——Between Lore and Legacy: The Mystifying Histories of the Menschen Vol. V by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune

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Veilla found herself in an unfamiliar position within the heart of the court. Where she typically would have been nestled upon her throne, surrounded by her council and a jury of her peers. But today was markedly different. Today, she was the one on trial.

Veilla was still in her nightgown when she was rudely awakened as White Cloaked figures swarmed her quarters. Forty-four mages stood arrayed against her. With the mere flick of her wrist, she could have vanquished each of them effortlessly. Yet, the politics of a wise woman restrained her hand. It was one thing to wield might; it was another to slaughter those sworn to serve her.

As she stood encircled, a sense of betrayal gnawed at her. No accusations were hurled, and no reasons were given for this silent mutiny under the very roof of her palace. What unspeakable crime had she purportedly committed that could justify such a stark uprising from her own people?

So there she was—Veilla Mageschstea, the Herbstdame, the Fallqueen as per humans, the Spiderqueen as per her enemies—seated not on her throne but in a simple, unadorned chair placed conspicuously in the centre of a courtroom. Veilla contemplated her predicament.

She wondered if this turn of events was retribution for how she had dealt with Yeso, for the trust she had shattered, albeit in the name of a 'greater good.' The irony of her current situation was not lost on her.

In the hushed auditorium, a soldier manoeuvred what looked like a large crate towards the centre of the room. It appeared to be a cage taller than him, obscured beneath a cloth, its wheels squeaking eerily, resonating through the silence. And an eerie growl could be heard beneath the fabric.

Veilla rubbed her swollen belly, and the charges against her remained a mystery, but the sight of many Magi donning white cloaks instead of their traditional black robes sent a ripple of anxiety through her. Among the sea of faces, she caught a glimpse of her daughter, Fiona, positioned next to the Judge, who was similarly garbed in a white cloak and mask. Apparel that, in her eyes, was ridiculous as she knew perfectly well who it was, its name and house. But the court loved drama.

Yet, the symbolism of the attire was not lost on Veilla; she understood all too well the undercurrents of a coup d'état. Regardless, as she scanned the room for any semblance of support, she found herself woefully isolated, with only Fiorna in the witness row—likely a strategic move by her twin sister to keep her away from any position of influence. The game was set, and the pieces strategically aligned against her. What was Fiona's plan?

The moment the soldier unveiled the contents of the cage, the room seemed to draw a collective breath. Inside was a woman, or what was left, but not as anyone had known before. She bore six eyes, each filled with a wild, ravenous hunger. She snapped and bit at the bars, her fingers clawing in a desperate attempt to reach beyond her confines.