Queen Himiko

The birds flew in the free yonder, the shackles of life unable to chain them down to the dry filth of laws and regulations. They lived in freedom, lawless. They did not grasp for it; they simply were.

Humans, however, are creatures of strange aspirations. They need to be grounded in the filth, yet they beg to grasp the sky. Never fully living it. Bleeding, weeping, and begging in the same muck from the day they are born till the day they take their last breath. Be it common blood or royal, these creatures would never agree to the written laws of God, fighting amongst themselves for the meaningless notions of superiority.

Yet today, they all came together.

Like cattle herded into a pen, humans of all castes and races chattered in the midst of laughter and fierceness, waiting for the arrival of their ruler. The massive Obsidian Colosseum, property of the nobles, had opened its gates. The stories and secrets buried within its black walls were once again out in the air, for all to witness.

The grandeur of the Colosseum was something a commoner could never comprehend, each brick of obsidian protected by enchantments that even gods wouldn't dare challenge, crowned with engravings of art that told tales no one understood.

As the time drew near, the cheers of the flesh silenced. It was not peace that quieted them, but the sheer vibration of awe and fear, waiting for their ruler’s arrival. Their heads bowed, tremors coating their very beings. Some clasped their hands together as if begging to be spared or praying, yet, none dared to leave the sacred grounds of this obsidian cage.

This was the cowering of mankind under the gaze of a ruler who saw them all as equal dirt, and she had arrived.

DON!

Thick chestnut sticks, the bachi, collided with the tightened skin of the massive drum as the thunderous boom of the Ōdaiko echoed within the walls, startling the birds from the giant tree atop the arena. The echo faded, revealing the Elite Guards of the Crown slowly approaching from the entrance of the academy. The Konoe were at the entrance, signalling the start of the procession. They were encased in lacquered plates of vermillion armor, a beautiful, bloody Ō-yoroi.

DON!

The second strike thundered, shaking the sunny sky, so powerful it seemed it would part the clouds. It was the reverberation of a culture alien to the Darkspire Kingdom, yet one that had been embedded into the land by the Queen’s iron will.

The Konoe stepped forward, inhaling deeply.

"The sacred arrival of Her Majesty is here! The Onari of Her Majesty shall begin!"

The gates separated far apart using magic to allow the massive entourage of the Queen to pass through. Two priests entered, black court caps on their heads, white robes trailing in the dust, and in their hands, they held wooden wands with paper streamers, the Shide. They raised them to bless the Crown’s path as the haunting, high-pitched melody of Gagaku court music began to play.

The crowd didn't let out a squeak, their eyes plastered to the magnificence on display. They held their breath as strong-armed men entered, bearing a golden stage on their shoulders.

It was a Mikoshi, a moving shrine layered with crimson webs. Inside was a fortress of silk and cushions. The sun was high and hot, but the web of silk shielded the Crown Owner, letting the gold shimmer under the red netting like ripples in a pool of blood.

Through the crimson screen, she showed her presence. Legs crossed, authority oozing from her aura. The Nyōbō sat behind her, waiting for cues.

Queen Himiko sat in silk, with a screen of crimson draping over the shrine, separating her from the eyes of the common filth. The queen mused, listening to how the court musicians, the Gakujin, merged the Ōdaiko and Gagaku together for the entire Darkspire to know she had come.

The queen sat in silk. Pitch-black silk, an Uchikake outrobe, draped over her crimson inner robes. It was not the kind common blood could ever afford, let alone touch or dream of. It was open at the front, held in her arms, embroidered with golden wires shaping chrysanthemums at the sleeves, meant to announce the existence of a higher authority, a symbolic relic of such. On the back, a visible phoenix of orange and gold thread soared, its eyes stitched with crimson stones for glamour and protection. Crimson stones were embedded within the glamour, protection magic stitched together in the phoenix's eyes.

She was like a lighted fire within a room painted with blood, threatening to only spread and grow louder with its timbers. Her skin was pale, dusted with powder, yet invisible handprints of blood seemed to work like blush on her cheeks, tinting her lips a cherry bleed. Contrasting the fearful picture, she was a beauty any man would spill blood for, just for the privilege of crawling to her.


Her hair was a sculpture of spirals and tangled gold ornaments. Every breath she took caused the bells in her hair to jingle with a melodious ting. Himiko fancied the sound of bells. Her face was painted with a dust of white, the corner of her eyes a stretched line of bloody crimson, reaching far up like a fox’s eyes.

She did not hide behind a fan. Even filth deserved to know they were under the thumb of a god.

These filthy white bloods… she mused.

Following the shrine was a trail of one hundred male attendants, the Toneri, black blindfolds draped their eyes, a rule the queen had passed. No toneri shall see another sun for as long as they served her, for they were allowed to see only one sun. The Queen; Himiko-Sama.

Some were assigned to chores of her quarters, some were told to cater to her needs, while some were simply meant to be broken. And they would gladly, it was an honour. Inscribing their blindfolds with shamanian arts from the land she once hailed, Himiko-sama had possessed their soul.

The Nyōbō sitting behind her, with a Kiseru in her hand, didn't need telling to know when her lady needed another inhale of smoke. She brought the end to the queen’s tinted lips as Himiko sucked in the flavored smoke, holding it in her throat for a second before releasing it through her nostrils and mouth. Relishing the burn it left behind in the back of her throat, mixing the pleasure of smoke with the sweet scent of vermillions behind.

Behind the entourage walked seven children.

"Arriving!" the Konoe announced. "The children of the Dojo-Ryōzan! The participants of the Culling!"

The Gakujin reverberated the instrument another decibel, alarming the crowd at their entrance. They were children the same age as the candidates from Sol academy. Four boys and two girls, each wearing garbs of the culture that Darkspire only knew through their Queen, Himiko-sama. All the children shared one thing in common with the queen, the monolids, similar but different.

A commoner in the crowd shrieked, overcome with anxiety, making eye contact with one of the Dojo boys. The boy’s sharp, cat-like eyes held the commoner’s gaze until the man shriveled in fear. A tattoo of black ink, like a tree branch, rose from the boy’s back to his knuckles.

The pink-haired girl beside him giggled. "Don't play with your food, Kaito," she whispered, and he clicked his tongue, looking away.

The moving shrine stopped.

Two Toneri, heads lowered, stood making an entrance. Another Two Toneri got on all fours, making human steps for her majesty to descend.

The Queen rose. Not once letting go of her gold-embroidered Uchikake, she took a step forward in her seven-centimeter tall Okobo shoes without support. As she stepped into the sunlight, another Toneri rushed forward, shielding her with a Higasa umbrella.

Himiko’s steps were elegant but fierce. Click-clack. Every step caused the bells to jingle.

"Your Majesty, the Queen..."

Headmaster Chernobog stood waiting. He was the same age as her, yet he looked like a man in his twilight years, grey hair, faded skin, wearing robes the color of a dull evening.

Himiko on the other hand, youthful as a maiden in her twenties, glowed like the sun. She looked at him, finding his worries just as delicious as his youthful voice used to be years ago.

She waited for the Gakujin to finish the notes before speaking as a kunai spun in a wheel in one of the student's hands. He whispered to his friends, one boy in a blindfold while the other, his twin, held a matching Kunai. The twins locked eyes, confused at the weird energy between the Queen and the headmage. A whistle audible only for the twins was blown, causing them to turn their heads and notice the giggling petite boy, standing beside a very tall red haired girl.

The Gakujin finally ended and the music faded. The crowd jolted, erupting in terrified cheers, begging the gods for mercy. A moment of silence passed, and, just as the konoe cleared his throat, the crowd jolted comically to avoid her displeasure.

The Queen held her head high, pridefully smirking, arrogantly glaring at the headmage. As if fatigued from age, the headmage opened his mouth tiredly to catch his breath.

Chernobog took off his wizard hat, revealing his grey hair tied in a low bun. He bowed deep, in the exact manner of the Queen’s culture, amusing her.

"You have finally come, Himiko-sama," Chernobog murmured.

The Queen smiled, and it was the sharpest thing in the arena.

"The sun does not rush for the earth, Chernobog. The earth waits for the sun."