Queens & Liars-Sequel to Three Broken Kingdoms (Completed)

Chapter Nineteen: Mother & Daughter

The battle raged on for hours. Myra never tired; for five years she had been cooped up and helpless and all the rage and waiting and energy of those five years surged through her. At last, though, they called for a ceasefire. The Kallians needed to readjust to the situation and the valkyries simply needed to collapse and rest if just for a moment.

Myra had given them that rest, at least. Earned them that sweet, momen-tary relief with all the blood she had spilled and the long hours of battle.

Too exhausted to move, most of their makeshift army settled in the very places they'd been fighting, maybe moving out a few metres to give themselves some room. Myra waded through the crowd, searching for one face amongst the hundreds-

She stopped short, catching sight of a black-haired blue-eyed girl.

Kestra looked so different. Changed. The years between twelve and seventeen were always monumental and life-changing but suddenly Myra felt as though she were staring at a different person from her twelve-year-old daughter.

As though this girl merely bore resemblance to the little Kestrel, whom she had known five and five hundred years ago.

Kestra stilled. The moment was suspended in time as mother and daughter stared at each other from across a chasm of a few metres.

"Kestrel," she said softly, the words slipping from her mouth unheeded. Her voice cracked and her knees nearly gave away.

"Myra-Kat," Kestra replied. Just like that, they slipped into their old habits and the frozen moment snapped. The two rushed towards each other and all that mattered was the daughter she'd been separated from for five-almost six-years. All that mattered was the tears streaming down both their cheeks as they embraced.

"My little StarSoul," she whispered into her ear. Kestrel muttered Myra's true Name, the Name she'd given her just before she went to war, and Myra muttered her daughter's true Name back to her.

But neither name seemed to fit who they were now.

"You're different," Myra said softly when they finally pulled apart. "You've changed so much, Kestrel." That childhood name seemed wrong now. Like an old shirt that no longer fit the person her daughter had become.

"As have you," her daughter replied.

"I know," she said. And not for the better. Before she had been a brightly burning flame. Now something about her had darkened. Sharpened around the edges, grown harsher and colder with the death of her friends, the betrayal of Jasper and her five terrible years in Dorgon.

Once, she had been a creature of bravery and love and defence. Now she was vengeance and pain and anger. The Myra of before had been a warrior of justice and truth, now she was something darker, something tainted: a creature of and rage.

But she was, as always, first and foremost, a mother.

"I'm so, so proud of you, Kestrel." She said softly. "You've grown up-and what a great woman you've become. Better than me."

She meant it, too. The girl she'd seen mere glimpses of was strong. Unfaltering. Unbreakable. A brightly burning candle against the darkness. A true Queen. A young girl who had walked through darkness that had broken so many--including Myra herself-and come out stronger than ever. Belle had chosen well.

"I wish I'd gotten to see you for the past five years," she continued, a single hot and furious tear rushing down her cheek. "I've missed so much, little one. I'd have liked to see you become the person you are."

"I kept on believing you were alive," Kestra said fiercely. "I never gave up. You promised me that you'd always come back to me, remember?"

Myra did. Kestra's words took her back to a night an eternity ago, before she went to war, when she and her daughter had slept side by side and she had promised Kestrel that death would never keep them apart.

"I am never going to leave you again," Myra swore. "Never again,

StarSoul."

"Never again," Kestra promised. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, little one."

----------------

"General," Nala inclined her head as she entered the war tent.

"Your Majesty," Lilith said, and shot an ugly look at the Chancellor. "The War Queen now."

"Thank you, Lilith. You are Rose's Second, I take it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"A particularly stupid move. Sending your best warrior into the mountains, but oh well."

"Rose does as she likes, Your Majesty."

"I'm assuming you'll take command of the valkyries, now, Myra?" Nala interrupted. Myra nodded.

"Brief me on the situation, Chancellor. And if you wouldn't mind, brief me on what on earth you were thinking when you abandoned the valkyries -just like your nephew-to die five years ago?" Lilith and Nala exchanged a glance at the reference to Jasper and mouthed not yet, but honestly, she couldn't care less right now.

Nala didn't so much as flinch under her gaze, a gaze to which many the impertinent soldier had collapsed under.

"I made the best move possible for my people and the future of resistance in the Kallian Empire. I did it with a heavy heart, and I regret to this day that my people could not stand and fight beside yours.

"I looked upon the removal of our forces with a heavy heart. I did what I believed was necessary, however. Because of it, I have been able to go on to help in the effort to free the valkyries and all peoples of the Lost Continent from the Empress' grip."

"All the same reasons that deserters give for abandoning their people in times of hardship." Myra hissed, not bothering to hide behind diplomacy and false smiles.

"I know. I betrayed your people. But I have been doing everything I can over the past half decade to remedy that. What I did is similar to the path of action Rose choose. It lies heavily on both our hearts, but we did it for the greater good. If you can forgive her, you must be able to forgive me."

"You left without a word of warning. At least Rose left so discreetly for a decent reason. We wouldn't have stopped you if you had left."

"I know. We should have warned you."

"No explanation? No honeyed words?"

"No. It was a mistake, and we regret it. But we are all about to die, so I ask we move onto the matter at hand."

Myra gritted her teeth and nodded.

"Lysandra wanted me to give this to you," she said and passed over the crumpled note. Nala snatched it eagerly and smiled as her eyes flicked over the words.

"What does it say?" Myra demanded.

"You should have read it while you could," Nala snapped. "It's nothing important to the rebellion, don't worry." Myra let out a grunt, her eyes still fixed on the note. She cursed herself for not reading it earlier. Whatever it was it was almost certainly important to the rebellion.

"To give a summary of our circumstances: we entered with five hundred valkyries, we lost fifty today." Nala declared.

She sucked in a breath. That was bad.

"We entered with two MindWeavers; they remain. We have a scattering of Tarua Teris; most of them still live. And of course, we have you."

"There's no way we win this," Myra said, taking in the statistics within seconds. "There's no way we get out alive."

The rest crumpled. They had known of course, but perhaps the coming of the Dragon had given them hope where no hope should be. The slightest belief that perhaps-perhaps-the legends of Myra Isidore were true.

Myra held a single finger, gesturing for silence and patience.

"Unless..." she turned to Chancellor Nala, who held onto her every word. "How strong are the MindWeavers, Chancellor?"

"Strong," she replied uncertainly.

"Could they make a perfect duplicate of this army? Keep it going for a few hours?"

"I don't know," Nala said.

"We could," the twin elves pronounced. "But it would kill us."