Stone walls, draped with tapestries depicting a Dark Queen summoning evil spirits, loomed over me. A cot lay in the corner, covered in a few blankets. A silver framed mirror hung over a small basin of water, and the room was extremely well lit. I’d been knocked out, with a light touch from the Dark Queen, and woke in here. My cuts were bandaged, and a thin paste covered all of my bruises. A goblet, smoking slightly, had been left for me, though I refused to touch it. I didn’t trust anything here. I lay on the cot, dressed in a simple smock, made from rough fabric. I’d counted the tiles on the ceiling, the stitches in the tapestries, and the number of torches, when an idea struck me. The Dark Queen looked sufficiently dark, and I sincerely doubted that it was her True Form. I needed a Queen identity for myself as well. I stood, slowly, my joints cracking and popping in protest, and strode over the mirror.
I made myself taller, first. That was important, to be tall, and fear invoking. When I loomed over people, I imagined them cowering in fear, and it brought a fierce smile to my lips.
Next, the eyes. People never looked a royal in the eyes, but mine would demand attention. After shifting many times, I finally settled on my eyes. A burnt reddish color, with flecks of gold that caught the flickering candlelight, and I found that when I lowered my lids halfway, and looked up through my long lashes, it looked rather seductive. I grew fangs, naturally, and adopted high cheekbones, and a pronounced jaw. Long, dark hair grew from my scalp, and my skin paled, so that the darkness was even more pronounced. My horns spiraled upwards into a frightening, cruel point. A dark monkey’s tail sprouted, and I flared my wings. Now, focus. I zeroed my concentration on the cloth that incased my body, and I Imagined. When I opened my eyes, I was dressed in a silken gown that was wound tightly around my torso, before falling loosely into a flowing skirt and sleeves. Gold flickered throughout the black fabric when I moved, and when I walked, shadows rippled around my form. I drew myself up, and turned to face the mirror. I almost jumped out of my skin.
In the mirror stood the Dark Queen, the new one. She was majestic, and beautiful in a mysterious way. She looked like someone who could capture your heart, and then crush it without a second thought. She was dangerous, lost, and if you looked into her eyes, you saw her emotions. She was scared, and her fear turned her into someone who’d lash out at anything. Her gaze was hard, she was an animal, she was the one, the only Dark Queen of Zacononia.
“Holy shit.” said the Dark Queen, and a delighted snarl dominated her features.
“I’m the Dark Queen.” I growled.
YOU ARE READING
Queens Don't Cry
Fantasy"I was ashamed of myself, when I felt the first hot tear slide down my face. Another soon came, until I was sobbing, my shoulders shaking, blood dripping onto the tile from the cuts in my face, my wings wrapped around my beaten and battered body. I...
