The Raptor Queen

Anai (Ah-NAH-Eee)

13 years ago…

My father has finally returned from the foreign city known as Prime, his carriage arriving causing a splendor in the new Mecca. My mother told me many stories of the north growing up, and for that I’ve worried every night since he left. The war may be over after fifteen grueling months, but the aftershock of emotion rippled across our country.

My parents warned me not to enter the room where my Uncle is resting, to allow him time reacclimate now that he’s no longer in a prison. Their voices echo in my head as I sneak down the hall where he’s screamed in his sleep for the past four nights. It’s a horrible idea to see for myself, but my curiosity wants to see for itself the devastation of war. Most of the men just didn’t come home. My Uncle and only one other warrior have returned from the clutches of the monstrous north.

It’s early, the sun has barely crest beyond the mountain, allowing little light in the seemingly long hallway. The dust motes flicker and twist away as I pass by them, swallowing hard at the thought of what I might find in that room. I’ve seen blood before, scars and bruises. I’ve seen animals ripped apart by predators numerous times. Nothing I tried to rationalize made me understand why my parents told me not to see him.

With extreme care, I pull down the lever to open the door that leads to him, swiftly closing it once on the other side. He’s still muttering helplessly as I approach his bed, my throat dry from my mouth unknowingly hanging open. The moment my eyes find his face, my heart breaks and I realize why they didn’t want me to see. He was no longer the man I knew growing up, young and vibrant with smooth dark skin. No. This man is a shallow exterior and they removed all his insides. Sunken cheeks. Bulging eyes. Discolored skin. His bones are covered in a skin suit, his muscles having deteriorated immensely. How could this have occurred in such a short period of time? The war was over almost two full moons ago. Did they not feed him?

I drop to my knees to pray to our Gods in hopes they spare him and bring him closer to the living. With my hands over his body, I start to whisper. “May the Gods hear my plea—”

An immense force grips my wrist, forcing my eyes open. I thought it would be my father with how hard it is. It’s my Uncle. His eyes now open, staring at me with vitriol hatred, his hand is clamped down on my wrist so hard I think he’s going to break it. I grunt. “Uncle, it’s Anai. Let me go, you’re hurting me.” His eyes roll back as he mutters something in the old language.

“Not all monsters can be tamed. And diplomacy will not always resolve. Envy and power can be murderous Anai. It is you who will kill us all!”

I scream, not knowing what else to do and alerting the two people who fervently warned me not to come here. With all my might, I attempt to pull away from him, fear he may break my wrist as his grip tightens. The moment my father bursts through the door, the disappointment in his eyes now laced with concern as he witnesses the tears pooled in mine, he approaches his brother and takes hold of his forearm. “Let go brother,” he commands warmly, unease painted throughout. I witness his grip tighten while I struggle to pull away, my Uncle forcing another yelp as his hand clamps down further. “You leave me no choice brother.” My fathers tone darkens as he swiftly whips out the poniard from its holster, releasing me from the death grip my uncle had on me and hurdling me into the nearest wall.

I start screaming louder as my mother enters the room only to witness my Uncle’s hand still attached to my wrist, sparse blood dripping from it. She rushes over to comfort me before looking over to my father. A kindness to him as he wraps fabric around his brothers handless wrist. “What happened?” She cries, finally pulling the vice of his fingertips from my wrist and revealing the violaceous imprint he’s left on me.

“Dearest daughter,” my father’s deep benevolent tone echoes through my whimpers. “Your mother and I told you not to venture into this room. Why did you disobey us?”

My mother stares at me with concern as she wraps cloth around my wrist. I bite my lip, still crying. “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to pray over him, father. I see how broken you are since you’ve returned with him. I thought it would help. Y-You said how you always thought the Gods pay special attention to me.” My gaze shifts from my mother to him continuously, returning to her as she tightens the bandage. “Why would the north do this to him?”

My father takes a deep audible breath before pivoting toward us, his brother no longer muttering. Come to think of it, in my own agony I didn’t once hear my Uncle even grunt after my father chopped his hand off. He kneels down in front of me, my mother frowning. “What did he say to you?”

I glance at my mother before answering. “Nothing.”

“Anai, don’t lie to me.” His eyes meet mine and I’m terrified. My father has never appeared so scary.

I hastily shake my head and repeat, “N-nothing father. He didn’t say anything.”

It was the first and only time I ever lied to them. War changed him. I hate the North for taking such a large piece of him away from me. As my mother takes me into the other room for ointments to soothe the injury, I make a promise to myself. The north will feel the pain they’ve caused me, the torment they’ve put my people through. Blood for blood. One day I will avenge my Uncle. One day, I will avenge them all.

As I gaze across the beauty and wonder of this years harvest, memories of my uncle weigh heavier on my heart. That day haunts me. Despite never having spoke of it again, I replay it in my mind like it was yesterday. When he took my wrist, I saw it. Sowtans in chains. Sound of whips cracking through the air. The blood of my people splayed on the ground. Their dead eyes staring at me. Those images replay in my mind with his voice. It is you who will kill us all. That’s my incentive to train harder. Be smarter. Deadlier. Notwithstanding peace for thirteen years, our time was coming. This harmony tax has slowly become a bigger burden than my father cares to admit. I will not allow my Uncle’s augury to come to light. We have to rid ourselves of the northern threat soon, or this tax will become the death of us.

Rumor has it a new King may venture south in lieu of the one who brought war to our land. Here in person to collect his taxes within the coming week. Their demands disgust me and it’s painful to watch my father bend to their every whim. I refuse to do that once I take the helm of caring for the Sowtan people. It’s bad enough that the only warrior I see left in him is when he’s training others. Or when he’s training me. ‘Better to die gloriously, than live hopelessly’ has always been my father’s mantra, but the shell of his fighter doesn’t believe that in his heart anymore.

Perhaps the Gods knew what would befall my people. The only way for them to spare my father was to give him a daughter to care for him as he aged and spare his youngest brother. Yet ashes of the fallen all around the continent created what’s now known as Colonos and it’s crushing him. Posed with a difficult decision, peace or annihilation, he gave up a piece of himself to spare the rest of us and ensure we have a future. To ensure I have a future. Him choosing to train me was merely a means of curbing my anger at first. But he quickly realized it would never be enough as my raptors gave me a confidence he didn’t like. My Uncle’s condition only further tortured him from the inside. Throughout my training, I witnessed both regret and anger had taken root in my father’s soul. His death only stoked the flame of a fire that he tried so hard to smother. The exuberant father I once knew also lost to the war.

Revenge plagues me, like a siren beckoning me, the threat of crashing an entire dynasty into the jagged rocks as long as it meant our enemies went too. Perhaps it’ll finally free my father’s soul from its torment. I’m close. If only I work hard enough. If only there are enough of us. He reassured me, begged me not to worry. That one day vengeance would be ours. I can not allow my emotions to drive my decisions. Necessity of negotiation and sacrifice for the greater good is essential, that reading ones adversary is vital. Blood for blood is the only solution.

Patience.

Tame the urge to be reckless andequip me with enough skill that helps me respect the security my raptor provides. After that night with my uncle, I refuse to be the reason for our downfall. Now at twenty and six and my father’s health having declined over the past few years, it won’t be long before I’ll be crowned PaDaoness. Pending espousal. Whomever joins me in union must be in the same headspace for me to accomplish my ultimate goal and set my father free. Though I’ve learned patience and kindness in the name of peace, revenge is a carefully crafted plot that requires intricate planning and tactful choices in order to be successful. Sowtan is still the largest settled lands; making up over one third of the continent, and nearly a fourth of the claimed regions. With my father the competing royalty, I will soon implement the long awaited plan and lead my people into a new future. One of true freedom and without ridiculous taxes. This new King will be surprised when he ventures to collect this year, because it’s almost time Colonos piss off for good.