Prologue
Queen Umbra stood by the banks of the divine river which was also a portal between the Realms of Nawia, Swaróg, and Mrutiman. Her long dark hair swayed at the mercy of the strong winds as she pressed the young prince, the future King of Nawia to her bosom.
“Come thee, the rulers of the Realms!” she screamed as the rain poured down, washing away her tears and her long black tunic that still held the blood of her King whom she had lost just hours ago. Her plump red lips quivered as she bit back the surge of emotions that she was feeling. Her world had come crashing down in a matter of hours and yet here she was, performing her duty as a monarch, rather than being able to mourn the loss of the only one she ever truly loved.
Lightning struck, followed by a loud roar of thunder. The cold silver eyes that feared nobody, today stood at the mercy of her late King’s kin. As the second lightning struck, emerged the strikingly beautiful King of Swaróg with his long white hair, icy blue eyes, and cloak that was sewn from the clouds. From the shadow that formed under the King that had emerged out of thin air, also emerged the King of Mrutiman. With warm green eyes and a tanned, but toned physique. His cloak rustled like it hid creatures within and he smirked as he looked at the young woman’s plight.
“To what do we owe this invite, Queen Umbra?” asked the bearer of the icy blue eyes, cold and numb, “and why do you bring your heir to this wretched place?”
Fury danced in the young Queen’s eyes as she eyed the nonchalance in the demeanor of the two Kings in front of her. Had they thought of her as a fool? Pushing the prince further into her skin, the Queen stepped forward. The two Kings stood their ground, almost amused at the grief this fragile woman was radiating through her eyes.
With the fire of vengeance burning in her heart that had just been broken and bruised, she dug deep into her tunic and in a flash pulled out the dagger of death. The Kings staggered back at the unexpected move. One fell back as the water from the river engulfed him and the other burnt down to the ground. The dagger of death… her husband’s last gift to her, the new ruler of the Realm of Nawia.
“Your greed killed my husband,” she proclaimed to the divine powers witnessing the death of the two Kings, succumbing to the wrath of a fragile woman, or so they thought, “so my vengeance shall be the end of you!”
As the Vantablack waters of the river carried the remains of the two dead Kings, the sky turned dark and the ground went barren. The universe was in mourning as it had lost all three of its sons in one single day. Queen Umbra laughed as she let the fire in her heart flow through her veins. What had being a filial brother done to her husband? It had gotten him slain by the very brothers he so revered. Looking down at the tiny face that napped peacefully in her shaking arms, the Queen kissed the crown of the little prince whose future was in her hands now.
“I name you Baladan, the future King of Nawia and the fruit of my love that I shared with your father,” her eyes danced with unshed tears, “you will grow up with fire in your veins, the same fire of rage that I carry within me from this moment on.”
With that pledge, the Queen turned around in one swift motion and followed the river to her realm. The same realm that her husband had built from his own two hands. Today, he had left it to her. She would rule it with an iron fist and a golden tongue. She would make it so that her realm was richer in both wealth and beasts than the other wretched realms that had brought this day to her. She lost her world and in return, she sinned by taking away the sons from the divine powers. She knew she would be punished, but her rage blinded her.
As the Queen of Nawia walked away, out came the divine deity of the oracle. Old and dying, he had one last duty to perform before he joined his sons in the fields of the afterlife. His eyes were dull and his heart had shrunk. As his mouth opened, a greyish-black liquid oozed out as it mixed with the rain and joined the black river that would now carry it. This was his last prophecy and also his curse that his grandsons would bear. Will it be their boon or their bane… only the mortal born to fulfill the prophecy can tell.
The Queen of Swaróg stood by the banks of the divine river as she caressed her bump. The remains of the late King of this realm washed up by her feet as she rejoiced at his death. This was her husband, her tormentor, her curse and he was gone. She laughed as she thanked the wrath of Umbra who had freed her of her cage. But just as a laugh bubbled up her chest, a burning piece of paper with a divine white glow flew into her hands.
“A prophecy?” the Queen almost dropped the divine edict as fear slapped her right in the face.
Shaking, she opened the folded piece of paper, knowing that two identical copies of the same were now in the hands of the two other Queens, now widowed. She blinked twice before she read the contents aloud:
As the princes ascend to the cursed thrones,
Their fates will be bound
Their mothers sinned and so they pay with the crown
A mortal queen will decide
What happens to the realms that govern
Her choice shall bear the fruit
Of the invincible heir that marks the end
Of its father’s nemeses.
As understanding dawned upon her, Swaróg trembled. The throne that was now hers, dimmed in light as she walked up to it in haste. She cradled her bump that now carried the future King, already cursed by the politics that his predecessors had played.
“It is my fault,” cried the Queen as she fell to her knees in front of the dimmed throne, “It is all my fault.”
Out came her daughter, witnessing her mother’s plight. Princess Astra fell to her knees as she cradled her mother’s face with her small hands. Her bright silver eyes scanned her surroundings and as they landed on the remains of her stepfather, all color left her youthful eyes. If he was dead, did this mean her mother was the new ruler?
The divine light faded out of the paper that her mother held close to her chest. The princess reached out to it with trembling arms but flinched when the paper burnt her fingers. After all, she wasn’t born of divine blood. Hence, she wasn’t worthy of holding the divine edict.
“What does it say?” she asked as her mother looked up at her with defeat.
“It’s a prophecy,” the Queen mumbled almost to herself, “the future King of Swaróg is cursed and it is all my fault.”
As the Queen broke down in tears, the princess pulled her into a comforting embrace. For all the sins the sons of the divinity had committed, why were innocent lives being punished? Was the divinity really that divine? Or was it a joke, orchestrated by the patriarchy that they lived in, that allowed them to commit grave crimes in the name of their blood right? Princess Astra was furious and she wasn’t the only one.
Meanwhile, in Mrutiman, their Queen mocked the divinity as rain soaked her tunic and grass died under her feet.
“For all the men that wreaked havoc and ruined the lives of the women in their lives, it is quite the irony that you’d let a woman’s choice decide these heir’s rights!”
The divine paper in her hand fizzled out of the divine light. The Queen ripped it into shreds and threw it.
“May the realms be doomed,” she said as she looked over at the little toddler that lay in his cradle.
The queen fetched a dagger from her boots as she slit her throat.
“I’m sorry, my young prince, but I will not live to watch your life be ruined like your father’s.”
A cowardly act indeed, but the Queen killed herself. Knowing that her son would be well taken care of by her handmaiden… the one woman she truly loved.
