THREE DARK QUEENS
are born in a glen
SWEET LITTLE TRIPLETS
will never be friends
THREE DARK WITCHES
all fair to be seen
TWO TO DEVOUR
one to be queen
On the island of Fennbirn every generation three triplets are born, all equal heirs to the throne...
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"Sorry for disturbing you madam but the Head of the Black Council has arrived and is demanding an audience," her servant announces, looking terrified as she delivers the surprise news.
Demanding. Not requesting. It makes Cierra's blood boil as she puts down her quill. And this short notice. Must she always bow to the proud Pele Murtra's will and her iron fist?
The warrior already forced Arwen's suitor to go and visit the poisoner brat as a ploy to keep an eye on the Arrons so soon after the assassination attempt and now this? Just in the midst of Arwen finally letting Klaude properly court her, helping her to build the future ties that she will use to fully control Arwen and benefit Fennbirn when she is queen crowned.
Cierra cannot wait for the day she finally seizes power. She'll find one way to be rid of Pele forever. The warrior has always been a thorn in her side. A drain on her power. She doesn't care if Arwen is the first shadow to be part of the island's triplet cycle for eons, she doesn't care what bogus treaties her ancestors signed - she will never willingly relinquish her birthright or her power. Especially that to an unruly warrior like Pele.
Still, Cierra barely has time to prepare before the Head of the Black Council, bursts in with her long stride and bright red cape billowing behind her, a lighter shade than her blood red hair which would've been more appropriate for funerals. So much red. Representing intensity, passion, blood, death and more.
So many polished silver weapons attached to her side, all varying in length and the intricacy of their designs and hilts and as always there is a stern expression of her face.
Cierra is almost nervous. Almost.
But she puts on the mask and bows to Pele, acting like a devoted subject to play the game. In her head she grins. Soon enough she will make Pele bow to her when she rules. How she lusts for that day, how she lusts for power.
"I apologise I haven't prepared a proper meal or refreshments for you and your companions, the guards at the border failed to notify me of your arrival, they will be punished for their insolence I assure you," Cierra says sweetly, venom coating the undertones of every word she uttered.
Pele only gives a smile in return, mimicking Cierra's own, "now now Cierra I know you like your unchecked violence but no need to dish out any punishments for I instructed them not to," she pauses, her green eyes gleaming as she gives Cierra a purposeful look, "I like arriving at my cities unexpectedly, adds a nice element of surprise to everyone's day. I find it's much easier to see how things properly run when I arrive unannounced, there's no time for any treacherous snakes to pull the wool over my eyes shall we say."
Both women note the terminology. The subtle barbs amd insults; and of course the frequent reminders that Umbra belongs to the island now the Goddess has birthed a new shadow queen. It was in the contents of the shadow treaty signed by their ancestors long ago. They likely thought Fennbirn would never see another shadow queen born and that their family would always retain their power. But alas. Fate struck. The Goddess' will. A will that no one can challenge or alter. But Cierra can try.
