Ariya's Path

Ariya: Daughter of Nores

The paleness of winter had begun to breathe down the sky's neck, like a lover yearning to covet the blue for itself and leaving in its wake, a grey blanket so thick its colours poured down upon Nores in snowflakes of delicate artistry. Each crystal as silvery as the queen's locks, each design as unique as the people that dwelled beneath them, yet as fleeting as their days of peace.

Ariya had experienced a tragedy no human should ever have to tell. She had lost her mother at birth, her father in her absence, and a brother she loved more than breath itself. All this pain, only to rule over a people so quick to turn their backs on her when death gave them his exam.

She had executed, maimed, impaled, exiled and buried them in countless numbers, but nothing availed her sorrows, nothing quenched her hate. Over the years, she grew darker, tearing down homes and families with a tyranny unmatched by any monstrosity that walked the earth. She was feared, she was hated, she was despised. This morning, she had executed a man, a woman, and a child with her own hands; the blood stains upon her sword, redder than the devil's horns. An evil that would blend perfectly with her crimson red locks. The trail of blood left in her wake could fill her a river of her own. The white witch had become the devil's bride, the princess of the sun had become the queen of shadows.

Gasp!

Ariya sat up faster than she remembered to breathe. The horrors from the night had left their prints soaked into her bed. She heaved a sigh so deep, she must have survived a drowning. The images in her mind were a stark reminder of the monster she could become. Perhaps this was her in another life, perhaps this was her in the darkness.

Dear reader, have you forgotten to pay attention to all things?

Ariya's hands trembled as she sat at the edge of the bed, her brother's words from the letter echoing in her mind. She knew not what they meant. The weight of his sacrifice settled heavily on her chest, a reminder of the burden she now bore alone.

She could still feel the coldness of his final warning, like a shadow lurking just beyond the horizon, blowing whispers against the the hair at the back of your neck. Yet when you turned around to face it, it wasn't there. A warning she did not understand. The warmth of the room did nothing to dispel the chill that had seeped into her bones. She knew she must be strong, not just for herself, but for the kingdom that had lost its king.

The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, like the promise of a land beyond a parted sea, but this was a promise of unfortunate things. One thing, however, was clear—she could not afford to falter.

She had grieved seven months but ruled justly. All expectations that she would turn to the dark had been dispelled by her actions. She had served her people seven years' worth in just seven months. But Ariya was not satisfied.

Three days after the night her brother had given himself to the river's edge, she had opened his letter to her. The seven-day king's words to his people were read the following morning after his sacrifice. To his people, he said:

"For fairness and a peace well-deserved,

I go to rest in the dark. Weep for this deed,

However great it may seem,

Ends not the disloyalty from which it was wrought

For the soul which ye turned your backs on,

Shall be the soul upon which your salvations be measured

Yet, love I have for you all, that you may yet see the light of days to come

For this reason, I have intervened for your sakes—

Not with my life, but with my love

Yet, know that your king's disappointment dwells with you

And ye must make amends.

A cold cometh, one that will chill even the bloody river."

These words did pierce their hearts for they loved the twins. But they feared what evil might become of the new queen for their disloyalty to the crown.

To Ariya, the queen, he wrote.

"Crystal locks,

My fairest thing,

Beauty to my strength,

Strength to my weakness,

Weep not, for nothing ends forever.

Your heart, you must protect

And from the darkness, stay.

Let all nights end with my life.

Love them as you always have,

Lead them as a mother,

For greater things for concern lie ahead.

A chill breathes up from the nine hells,

A secret known only to kings:

The river must never be obeyed.

When she is fed, she will cease to flow,

But greater terrors will come to life.

Prepare the men and ask for the Ragoi,

The ghosts in men's flesh,

Monsters to the monsters to come.

This cycle has before come,

And with my life, it returns.

A cold cometh, one that will chill even the bloody river."

A boy and his dog, playing in the snow. A girl chasing after, not far behind. The forest, their playground. The boy throws a ball, the dog runs, and there's silence. The dog barks, barks again—silence. The dog whines a heart-rending cry—silence. The twins gaze into the grey.

A darkness growls from the deep—a low, crackling sound like thunder and the rumble of rocks heated by fire. Then from beyond, the shadow grows, swallowing light, breath, and heat until nothing is left to sight. The twins stare into the great nothing, fear embracing them like a mother, kissing from them their breath into icy clouds. Their lips lay divorced, cold and distant, like hateful couples.

And as quickly as it came, the darkness retreats and nothing remains—nothing human but a print in the mud, neither human nor animal. A forest, once thick with snow, now baren of anything white, as if hell itself had walked these woods.

Water drops—one, two, three, a thousand. The clouds bleed, and red paints the trees.

The harbinger had arrived.

Nores had breathed its final peace.

The Ragoi will wake.

...Ariya will return in Tragic Skies.