Original | A Fallen Crown
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'No more pretending
No more deny
When the sun goes down
Will I know who wears the crown
No more deceiving
No more grieving
When the sun goes down
Will they know who wears the crown'
~Maire Brennan - The Mighty One
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Strange, Erea reflected, how people said it was the 'silence of Death', when Death was really born among the cries and noise of war.
A spattering of sparks glistened on the dust filled horizon as the Queen wrenched her eyes from straining into the miles. Copper hair, with strands as red as blood fell to her waist as she snapped out a single word. "Status!"
Long brown hair framed the woman's face as she opened blue, ageless eyes. "It's hard to get a clear picture, Your Majesty," she was cut off by a snarl and a thrown goblet. "We can't reach the Fae on the field, and none of us are strong enough to See clearly over that distance." She continued, ducking out of the way of the crystal shards that glistened in the dying sun, as if nothing had happened. "Not now anyway." she murmured, looking at the others by her side.
Erea growled again, her eyes drawn to the dusky sky. "Once the Fae were powerful, once they had magic to rival the Gods themselves! Now they're weak and puny, the magical core dissolving as if sand." Her eyes closed for a moment, but they were unable to refuse the insistent pull of the distant battlefield. "Once even the newest trainee could see miles across land and sea, but now the magic is fading, and Minia is dying too." The last bit was whispered as the sky began to turn red in preparation for sunset.
"Minia can never die, as long as it's in the heart of the people!" One of the Fae, stepping through the massive carved doors on Erea's side proclaimed defiantly.
"Maybe so," the Queen said, almost gently, "Minia may not die today, she may just be given a new master. As may I." She still remembered, well over a moon ago, when her husband, the King, had planted a soft lingering kiss on her lips, slipped a silver Promise band onto her finger, whispered in her ear, 'I'll be back soon, I promise.', and ridden off to fight for his, their, land.
She found herself tracing the intricate ring as she stared out across the land. "We won't win you know." Her tone was almost conversational as she shrugged on her fur-lined robe to ward off the on-coming chill.
"Don't say that, Your Majesty!" a Fae exclaimed hastily. "I assure you we will! Why, our magic is the most powerful..." he trailed off, looking at his palm with something akin to shock, as a tiny flame kindled on it, then gutted out.
"Was." Erea whispered angrily. "Past tense." Silken robes rustled as she sauntered reluctantly from the velvet window seat to put a strong hand beneath the chin of the Fae woman who had spoken before. She lifted the head as the blue eyes opened, startled. "Don't lie to me, we have no chance without magic."
The Fae woman shook her head as much as she could within the Queen's strong grasp, as much as she could without being insulting. "You mustn't say that, Your Majesty, the other army will be having similar problems."
Erea pushed her head away violently, the pull of the window too strong. "Will you know who is King? Who will wear the crown of Minia?" Her voice was strong, her head raised with pride and majesty, but a hint of tears shone in her voice as she gripped the window sill.
There was only silence.
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© Clare Selley 2009
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