Empress Seline

“Oh, get up already!”

Empress Seline ran to Lavenza and dragged her up with one arm. The empress did not look like someone with a lot of arm strength. Slim arms. Tall legs. Thin shoulders. She possessed a lanky build, or maybe she was just pampered too much as a child. Only her flaxen hair and chest possessed any semblance of body.

“Haven’t I told you before to stop calling me by my formal title?” Empress Seline puffed out her rosy cheeks. “It’s just Seline to you.”

“I have news to report Empress—”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you do. Come, Lavenza. I’ll have tea brewing within a minute.”

The empress pulled Lavenza along behind her. There stood a shack nearby, close to the tulips that Seline was tending to. There was more space inside than what its tight wooden exterior suggested. Inside was an abundance of seed bags and gardening tools. Potted plants hung from steel hooks on the walls. There was a lone mattress rolled out in a damp corner of the room.

At the center of the shack was a fireplace dug out of the ground. A boiling kettle hung over a crane. Next to it was a low table and a pair of seat cushions that hugged the floor.

“Sit here,” the empress ordered. “You’ve always liked jasmine, yes? I have jasmine.”

Empress Seline moved more like a housewife than a pristine member of the royal family. She swiped away glass bottles that did not strike her fancy and plucked from the cupboards a cylindrical canister that twisted open with a pop. She spilled scrunched up dry leaves, into a ceramic pot.

“Empress—“

“One more word out of line and I’ll have the guards escort you out,” Seline snapped. “Wait for your tea, Lavenza.”

Lavenza scowled but acquiesced. She said nothing more until Empress Seline poured hot water into her ceramic pot, waited several minutes for the tea leaves to steep, then finally poured Lavenza’s share into a porcelain glass. The empress poured her own cup, then smiled upon the first waft of tea.

“Now,” the empress crossed her legs. “Tell me, Lavenza. How have you been?”

“The Grixys—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Seline raised her hand. “That wasn’t what I asked. What did I ask?”

“…I’ve been well.”

“Lavenza. You know that’s not good enough.”

Lavenza sighed. There was no chance an apostate could defy the empress.

“It’s been three months since we set out for Pelagia,” she said. “The winter there was brutal, moreso than in the north. The south was devastated by permafrost, but most of its people have either fled here already or made way for the The Opposing Shore on their own.”

“They were building ships in the south?” Seline asked.

“They tried,” Lavenza nodded. “The rumors were that Centa Muis did not have enough ships to ferry everyone in Aparthia. The southern cities along the coast built long ships to weather the blizzards.”

“And did any of them return?”

“No,” Lavenza shook her head. “Not while I was there.”

“What about the Pelagia Ley Line?”

Lavenza held out her hand. Unlike the reddish hue of Grixys or the blue luminance of Aphelion, a gentle grass green crystal spawned from her palm. It twirled then hopped between the apostate’s fingers.

“Captured,” she muttered.

“Wonderful,” the empress smiled. “Now, if your earlier outbursts are to be believed, the Grixys line is also yours, and they tell me the mages of the Abish Royal Academy are abandoning their posts en masse. Many are traveling as we speak towards Centa Muis. You took the Aphelion line too?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Your Royal Highness asked for the mages to create a replica to replace the Endire,” Lavenza explained. “The archmage instead was conjuring an elaborate illusion. I deemed that the academy had failed in its task and acted accordingly.”

“Failed,” the empress murmured.

Empress Seline’s aloof expression sobered into a graceful stare. She stood up and walked to the entrance of the shack, where she gazed at the twin moons above the glass dome. For the first time since the start of their conversation, Seline’s face possessed a distinct royal quality, a thoughtful ponder that can only occur when one weighs millions of lives in their hands.

“You know, I was actually hoping that they’d somehow succeed,” the empress bit her lip, “but I suppose we both knew that they weren’t going to. Could they have succeeded, Lavenza?”

“Perhaps,” Lavenza shrugged. “Now, we’ll never know.”

“Well, with Pelagia, Grixys, and Aphelion,” Empress Seline muttered, “that’s all of the ley lines in the kingdom depleted. Should I be concerned about our mages?”

“They can still cast magic if that’s what you’re asking,” Lavenza replied. “But the ley lines channel raw mana from the Endire and are required to perform more complex feats. Miracles, for instance.”

The empress seemed satisfied by Lavenza’s answer. She walked back inside the shack and poured herself another cup of tea.

“You’ve done well, Lavenza,” Seline muttered. “Very well. I couldn’t have asked for more from you.”

“I’m honored, Your Highness.”

“Lavenza you can stop,” Seline whispered. “No one else is here right now.”

“I’m aware, Highness.”

“Then call me Seline,” she smiled. “Or even Sel, just like you used to long ago. Is it truly that painful to see me again that you can’t even call me by my name?”

“Yes,” Lavenza clenched her jaw, then added. “Highness.”

The empress reached out to her. Nimble fingers drifted over her hand. But unlike before, Lavenza recoiled at the touch and slapped the hand away. When the empress’s eyes met Lavenza’s, she spied there a remarkable blend of terror and passion, stricken, stretched eyes pinned to the red mark on the back of her hand. Her cheeks, however, flushed with a similar deep vivid red. Lavenza held her own hands to her chest, clutched them tight and leaned as far away as she could.

“Forgive me,” Lavenza breathed.

“Why does my touch scare you so much?” Seline leaned forward. “What is there even left to fear? The world has diminished to a remainder of finite sunrises and sunsets, and you and I are the only ones who know the whole truth.”

“You’re just playing with me,” Lavenza frowned. “It’s just like always.”

“Of course I’m just playing with you,” the empress laughed. “But deep down, you don’t hate it. You even crave it. I would know. I made you this way. That’s why you and I are so alike. You’re the only one who understands me, Lavenza. And I’m the only one who understands you. That’s why you’re here tonight and not anywhere else, because you and I are both broken, and there is no solace to be found in this world save in death or the warmth of our bodies, and it is not yet time for you to die.”

Seline crawled towards her. Lavenza recognized this moment. She had seen it so many times in her dreams, in years past. Night would fall, and the fireplace remained the sole source of light. But the flames dwindled. Seline had not added firewood for some time. It grew colder, and with each passing moment, the twinkling embers darkened more and more of the empress’s face and body, until all that remained were two gleaming round blue jewel eyes that pressed closer to her.

There was no mage, no person that could disarm Lavenza the way Seline could. The empress raised her hand to Lavenza again. This time, there was no defense, no instinctual rebuke. This time, Seline’s fingers caressed her auburn hair and her cold placid cheeks. Tears sprang to Lavenza’s eyes. She began to weep, first with soft, lamenting sobs, and then out poured a deep, agonizing wail.

“This isn’t what I want! This isn’t love,” she cried. “It’s just like always. You’re using me. You’re using me because it’s the only way you can save the one you really love.”

“It’s okay, Lavenza. It’s okay. Stay with me tonight anyway,” Seline whispered, and Lavenza knew then that it was all over.