Nychta - The Bloodrose Kingdom

Chapter 13 - Let The Show Begin

It was true that I was finally walking to the path of the unknown. It was true that I was now going through a fate that will either give the best or the worst.

But I felt like a queen as I descended down the library’s solid steps. My black heels thumping loudly as I collected every ounce of strength I had. I was Machiavellian of the Raven, after all.

I walked through the pavements, the guards on my side now behind me. Rosemary was at my back, ready to escort me.

From afar, the carriage looked dark and scary. But near it, it looked majestic and beautiful, carvings of ravens like the ones in the library in it. It was circular in form, like a huge nest of metal ravens and red velvet cushions. The horses drawing it had metal plates on their backs and sides, of course, with the same design as the carriage itself. The carriage of the future queen.

I looked at my back and looked at Rosemary, who was beaming beside me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she says, her tone proud. I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. I was jumping in joy deep inside, the light of a thousand embers screaming to burst from within me. But I need to maintain that regal and cold aura, and so I showed barely the hint of a smile, and walked towards the carriage.

The trees which enclosed the library and its garden, its tall and old branches high above me rustled as the wind blew coolly. The sun was now creeping near the middle, hinting noon. The yellow and blue skies were in favor of the parade, it seems.

I took a seat inside the carriage, with Rosemary following suit. She held my hand as we entered, giving me a feeling of safety.

“Show them what you’ve got,” she finally reminds me, her gaze fully on me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In an instant, the sound of the whip hitting the side of the horse, its neigh following after rang through the quiet fields. This was my home for three weeks, and so I said a little goodbye to it through my mind. The quiet yet rich lands of the books stood silently in response, as the view in the carriage’s window moved, signifying the start of our travel.

I knew that we were reaching Bloodrose’s town center when the trees gradually decreased in my view. Replacing it were small big cottages scattered all around, life thrumming from it, with filled with gardens and smoking chimneys. All of them had people in front of them, waving at the carriages slowly passing through the road. They all had big smiles and bigger bellies, a luxury only the rich here in the capital city can afford. I wondered about what the people of Silverfang were now doing, if they were holding a ceremony of their own as they read the names of the contestants for the Divination instead, which we did every time it started. They all placed bets and choose who to support, seeing the most powerful out of us. I hoped they didn’t recognize me.

In my hands were two things: a rectangular ebony leather pouch of a heavy weight and a crystal ball with black fumes inside it. Rosemary explained that the pouch contained my necklace, with a raven symbol inside. She told me that I should wear it when I introduce myself and to give emphasis that I chose the queendom’s symbol itself as to signify my want to rule it. The black orb, she explained, was to be crushed with my hands above my hand at my introduction too. She didn’t explain what it was supposed to do, only that I needed to it to gain attention. I followed anyways.

Rosemary was now at number twelve of her reminders.

“Never ever look at anybody too long. You don’t want them to assume that you’re begging for help or wanting to get out of the parade, right?” she asks without asking for a reply.

“Actually, I would like to”

I was cut by her sharp stare, telling me to follow her. I rolled my eyes in reply.

“No rolling of eyes except for actual confrontations with other contestants!” she quickly reminded, making it her thirteenth.

I held her by her left shoulder.

“Madame, do not worry about me. I… I will try my best to act regal, and to be cool, and dark, and everything you want me to be. These manners, they won’t just come out of me in an instant, okay?”

At that, she bites her lips, unsure if she should follow me.

“And besides, I haven’t even heard half of what you’re saying,” I offered with a laugh. She smiles back, but then knots her eyebrows as she remembers, “but do not forget to never smile, okay?”

After some minutes, when the crowd grew in size at my view, their foreheads shimmering with power as the sun hit it, I realized that we were now at our destination. They wore robes of varying designs and colors, mostly in the hues of red and brown. They were cheering, choosing their own candidates from the design of the carriage. I tried my best not to look at them, to maintain my façade of cool composure.

When the carriage finally stopped, I held Rosemary’s hands tightly. She answers with a tight squeeze.

In an instant, she turns at me with her full body, an important message written in her wide eyes.

“Do what it takes to win the Divination. But here’s what you have to remember: do not trust anyone in there. Everyone has their own agendas, their own purpose in joining it,” she says gravely.

I looked at her for a long while. I collected my guts as I told her, “do we have an agenda for joining the Divination?”

She purses her lips. “I have plans… for you,” her only reply. I was shocked, and was about to pry more from her, to finally uncover the mystery she held every time we spoke, but then a loud knock from the side of the carriage rattled me.

“That’s the guard telling you to come out now,” Rosemary says, as she puts her hands to my sides and assists me outside. I tried to talk to her, but the panic from finally being revealed to the crowd knocked my words deep inside my throat, ice cold panic replacing it instead.

My heart beat loudly when the door was finally open. In an instant, cool, humid air entered the carriage.

My eyes widened at what I saw.

Before me was a long, sprawling path of a red carpet, its designs filled with golden-inked floral swirls and vines. It was aligned with twelve others, each of them having the same design. Our carriage were next eleven others, with mine placed at the end. All of the carriages varied in design too, from pure white with paints of gold, to designs of red velvet adorned with black spikes, to a flashy, glass carriage, and a lot of other colorful and unique designs. All of these represented us, like dollhouses caging raging monsters.

But the biggest surprise was the arena.

I was told that I we were going to be presented in the town’s center yard, where people met for occasional small town-to-town announcements and festivities. But this, this was different. This was a part of Bloodrose I didn’t know existed, but it was a massive arena of tall white pillars, with metallic silver linings. The main seats were made with the same white rock, but also with the linings and raven carvings encrusted as designs. It thrummed with life and death at the same time, the contrast between dark silver and white giving me a sense of terror.

The people I saw from earlier? They weren’t only single rows of lined people. Gone were the large cottages and trees. Huge crowds of tens of thousands of people now swarmed all around us, dressed in their best robes and clothes. They were cheering, some of them holding purple wines in their hands, while some had cloth banners waving. They all held different town symbols, with only a little of them having Silverfang’s crest.

I looked around the arena and found many others seated in the round-designed seats, their sounds formerly muted inside the carriage. They now seemed like tiny moving ants, each of them wearing different colors and shouting different names.

The harsh ray of the spring sun set the energetic mood of the people.

My boots crunched through the flat, yellow land, my steps uneven as I fully descended down the carriage. It seemed to go on for miles, bare hints of grasses scattered all around it.

The walls that were just below the people’s seats were designed with the raven and vine design, carvings placed all over it.

Right in front of us, the final destination after following the path of the red carpet, was a gigantic stage of black stone and pillars, beautiful adorations of dark silver and metal sprawled all over it. At the center was a huge gem, of a thousand colors, changing every second. It shone as the sun hit it.

But the real attraction was the man standing behind it. It was none other than Faeric of the Gems himself.

He was beautiful in all aspects, his face another adoration in the stage, with fine lines and curves defining each and every part of it. His long, auburn hair streaked with blue lines rested on his shoulders, giving him a mane-like appearance. He was wearing a robe far more elegant than the Illuminae, for his was designed with an over-all purple color, lines of vines and gems lining along the bottom. His long sleeves covered muscled and finely-toned arms. He was holding his chin high, a mischievous smirk present in his lips. He looked like a prince, and yet, also of a higher and divine position. Like one turned into a god.

“People of Bloodrose, I present you, the contestants for the Divination!” his voice said, with it being rang loud across the whole arena, which echoed loud screams and cheers in return. It was magic, pure magic, as to how he managed to amplify his voice. It was in the gem with the ever-changing colors. A brilliant invention from Faeric himself, who prided himself with his knowledge and infinite capacity to yield gemstones to his disposal. To where he got the gemstones and to how he was born with such a power, no one knew.

The attention of the people shifted to us, our shining outfits and attires cheered on by the people. We were glamorous. It felt like we were gems ourselves.

I didn’t dare look at the other contestants, my cool façade of unchanging emotions not to be taken down by the other ones. I can that some of their gazes were on me, with the attention-seeking quill blown mildly by the wind. Act like a queen, become the queen, I repeated to myself.

“These powerful women came from all over the queendom, presenting exemplary abilities and skills. One of these girls will be our future queen, and so let us give them the stage as they present themselves!” Faeric continued, earning more cheers from the crowd. He was born for the stage, charismatic and composed.

This was the part where I didn’t know what do. I was going to observe the other contestants instead, eager to see about what will happen. I was as clueless as a child joined in a contest for adults, and probably, that was really the case for me. I stood firmly instead, eager to wear that mask of a dark, composed queen.

I felt a ringing in my ear as the magic that amplified Faeric’s voice made its way towards us. In an instant, our breathings and every moment was to be heard around the arena.

“s**t,” a rather raspy voice said from among us. I didn’t dare look at it, but slightly smirked at a voice that didn’t sound too regal, just like from where I came from.

Aquamearn was the town first called. This was known when its citizens brought our banners of their creast, aquablue dye seen throughout the crowd. It was designed with a huge shark in the middle, a dangerous beast only they have tamed and used for aquatic battles. They have gained the reputation of being the queendom’s vacation spot, moonlight summers being their proudest attraction. Now that the sun finally graced its warm rays upon us, the economy of the town will definitely grow richer.

The first girl, the farthest from me, finally made her way to the carpet.

She was dressed in a snow-blue silken dress, with glittery designs representing snowflakes covering her body. The rays of the sun made it stand out even more, paired with the cool movement of the blonde girl.

She was tall and favorable in figure, as beautiful as fresh snow. Her pale cheeks were given attention asshe walked the carpets confidently, a light aura enveloping her.

But from a distance, I found a certain shadow lingering beneath her.

It was of a different form, a masculine one, spiky hair and thick leather shaping off from it. It moved quickly, moving from the ice girl’s shadow to another’s. I was obviously shaken, but I managed to maintain myself.

Maybe it was a product of hallucination. Or maybe it wasn’t.

The tall girl made her way to the top of the stage, her mere presence invoking sweet cheers from the crowds. Their cheers matched her aura, which was confident and yet, likeable. The people from Aquamearn swayed their banners, proud of their contestant.

“My name is Judith of the Frost. I have come from the lands of Aquamearn. I will prove myself worthy of the seat, for the power of the ice guides me,” she says, her voice as sweet as her poise.

Faeric masked his pretty face with a fashionable smile, his lips hung in the right places.

To further impress the crowd, Judith brought out her ball, the same as mines but only with a white-blue color. It was swirling, power contained deep within it.

And just as instructed, she took the ball above her head and crushed it with her right hand.

I wasn’t expecting fireworks. I wasn’t expecting our powers to overflow. I first thought about it being an act to use as a bomb in case of a disastrous event.

But it was everything I did not think of.

For the moment the ball was crushed, heavy fumes of white came off from it, gaining size by the moment. It was a huge blizzard, of immense winds and snow, except that it didn’t feel cold at all. It felt like nothing, like a mere display. That was what it probably was. A sneak peek to our abilities. An instant image-maker for people to know us better.

I was unsure about what mine will be.

The next girl was Margaret of the River, her blue-green gown swaying as she walks through the carpet carelessly. Her hair was barely kept on a proper braid, strands having life on their own. She carried herself with such an impatient and uncaring manner.

The shadow followed her path. It seems that nobody else saw it, for the crowd still continued to cheer for the contestants of Aquamearn. Faeric raised his right eyebrow, a smirk forming from his lips. His lips silent said, “Sassy.”

The river girl made her way to the stage, and with a rather rough and low voice, she said her speech. “Margaret of the River, folks,” a thick accent present in her voice. Her toothy mouth grinned at the cheers that followed, as she waved her left arm.

And then she grabbed her ball, throwing the ball first in the air. In an instant, a hand-like substance came out from her hand, as her gem lightened up, signifying the use of power. It was river water given form, and it crushed the ball with a delightful sound.

Margaret snaps her finger, starting the attraction.

When blizzard was used by Judith, Margaret instead flooded the whole arena.

It was if everyone was underwater, the peak of her newly-made river reaching the top of the arena. The children from the crowd waved their arms uncontrollably, in delight with her splendid performance.

But for all its entertainment value, it also served a deadly message: she could drown us all in the same green waters, but in deadlier forms.

Margaret smiles one more time at the crowd and bows, making her way back to the carriages, claps and compliments coming from the people.

The third girl was the last of Aquamearn. She wore a revealing royal blue gown, her back completely exposed, showing tribal tattoos that depicted waves and moon cycles. She was quiet, her voice lacking the impact from the first two contestants.

“E-Emeline of the T-tides…” she says weakly. Her fingers were shaking terribly at her sides, her pure blue eyes risking tears.

But she still managed to crack her ball, with her accidentally dropping it.

The crowd laughed at the terrible display of the contestant, their respect obviously dropping in an instant.

Her display was a huge dolphin made of water, its interior filled with corals, seashells and schools. It was pretty at most, but lacked the impact of the earlier ones. It swam through the air, making its way around the whole arena before disappearing within a second, leaving real seashells for the audiences in its wake. Cute, but not terrifying. This would’ve worked for a performance, but for one of a future queen, it wasn’t convincing in the least.

Fawnvuille was the second town called. It was the lands where the mountains reached the highest peaks, snow covering it for eternity. It was unlivable at first, but the strongest of the people thrived and hade made a living on it. They say that the best warriors of the palace comes from the town, for its harsh survival conditions. Fighters were born out of that place.

And to give a proper image to the place, the first girl proved the point.

Dressed in a hybrid of armors and gown, a silk and metal studded tall girl, her toned arms shown from the lack of sleeves walked the carpet. She had short hair, her skin the purest of white. Her eyes had a gray color, adding a mysterious and creepy appeal to her. She gave sturdy face at the crowd, which raised the banners of the Fawnvuille in return. Their banners had a large bear imprinted in it.

She carried herself with a warrior’s steady and no-nonsense aura.

“I am Millicent of the War. I had come here to take the throne,” her booming voice said, hoarse from giving commands to countless armies and troopers. A large, sword scar was present in her left cheek, from a battle I had yet to know. If she leaded soldiers at such a young age, then she was definitely not an easy contender.

Her ball, after erupted with her strong fists, caused quite the commotion.

Weapons of shining steel and sharpness whirled around her in a deadly manner, a killer rose to be exact. It had layers and layers all rotating in a dizzying and rapidly dangerous form, calling goosebumps down my back. She was terrifying, an instant contender to be a champion. To be a queen, one must have an iron grip on the people. She had more than that right now.

With a simple nod, she exits the stage with the cheers of the people.

But as she walks through the carpet, the shadow begins to grow larger in size. The masculine form now looked like a real one. It was making its way through Millicent’s shadow, a dagger in its hand. It was running fast and quick, but it still managed to blend it with the shadows properly.

But for all its amazing skill and speed, what terrified me the most was its direction. Which was towards mine.

The quick steps of the shadow pounced through every candidate, no one bothering to look at their shadows in anticipation for their turn. The fifth girl, Adelaide of the Woods, now made her way to the stage. Dressed in an all-green gown, vine designs dangling from it, she walked with graced. I could tell from my position that she used the trees of the forest to her will, as various brown trinkets and bracelets cuffed her hands.

But the shadow still continued its path. I wasn’t able to move, for any movement from me was to be observed by the crowd. They can use it against me, if I played my cards wrong.

I willed myself to be steady as Adelaide lets go of the illusion inside her ball and calls for imaginary roots deep within the yellow ground of the arena. They grew quickly, full grown trees to be seen in a matter of thirty seconds. They towered all around the arena.

The shadow used this to its opportunity, using the shade to roam freely around the grounds. I set my left feet a little bit to my back, readying to put myself into a fighting stance. I quickly regretted the tight fabric in the lower side of the dress, for it restrained me greatly. My fists curled by my sides.

The shadow danced in a dizzying manner, picking darkest places from the illusionary tree’s shades. As the people marveled at the trees’ heights, its canopy going beyond the arena’s height, the shadow continued its path, finally making its way towards me.

As it ran towards my direction, I bit my lip in anticipation.

In a flash, I felt the shadow going behind my back. I was shaken by the surprise, but I did not dare let my firm mask of an unfeeling girl slip away.

I was about to turn behind me, just as when the trees finally disappeared. With a bow, Adelaide leaves the stage, a smirk in her mouth. I wondered if I would get the same reactions too, if I would come as a victor even with illusions.

A voice rang through my head, the shadow talking to me.

“Machiavellian of the Raven, quite a pretty name,” the husky voice said. It had a familiar tone to it, inked with years of hardships and roughness. Although it became like that, it still had a tinge of familiarity and optimism with that. A voice that shone along the darkness of Silverfang and continued to be with me through the years.

Eman.