Serpentine: 26 years old
Asborne: 29 years old
The Crown Princess is the second most powerful woman only after the Queen. She is not to be scorned, and not to be shamed.
**Don't Go—J.T. Peterson**
Apart from the Witches that made up Velmoria were also the Humans. But while the witches were noted for their covens and their ability to manipulate the Velth, the humans were noted for their ability to manipulate the Arth and were divided into three clans;
The clan of the Huntsmen, the clan of the Seamen, and the clan of the Mountainmen. Of the three clans, the Huntsmen held the most vast kingdom, and they were ruled by the Thorne's, an ancestral bloodline of the very man who released the first arrow against the fallen ones two thousand years ago.
But this night of blood, fire and ruin that had started with the Azure witches will now spread its dark wings in a desolate temple, located at the wet boundaries of the Seamen.
Inhabiting the temple with ruined structure and stained walls was the crown princess of the Huntsmen—Serpentine Andal Thorne, her only daughter Princess Elara Thorne, a healer, and five handmaidens.
And they all wore expressions of profound grief that somewhat mirrored the blood moon that painted the atmosphere red.
"You must now let her go, your highness. The princess is in far too much pain." The female Healer spoke hesitantly, glancing fearfully at the crown princess who knelt before the bedside of her daughter, stroking the girl's red hair mindlessly while staring blankly in thin air.
Of course, while the crown princess knelt, none of her handmaidens or even the healer dared to be found standing. They all bowed, their bodies almost splayed on the ground.
As the supposed second most powerful woman among the humans, Serpentine had never felt more powerless as she did in that red night. A powerlessness she could not wriggle out of no matter how hard she tried.
Tears formed in her eyes but never rolled down. Her heart constricted until she could no longer breathe, yet she showed nothing of her discomfort.
Instead, she wore a blank expression—devoid of the motherly rage that brewed in her heart, but one as stern as what was expected of a future Queen.
"I should let Elara go, right?" She asked in a dry voice, cracked from the nights that she had spent, silently crying herself to stupor until she had no tears to cry anymore.
Lying in the bed was her daughter. Her precious Elara who never actually lived. From the day of her birth in the Palace of the Huntsmen, they said her organs were weak—so weak the girl could not lead a life that was outside of her suffocating sick bed.
Finding her illness strange, Serpentine consulted the grand healers who said her daughter had been poisoned shortly after her birth. A peculiar kind of poisoning that penetrated Elara's organs until her liver, kidney and heart completely failed her.
That was when Serpentine realized that no matter how much power she seemed to have, in the face of her daughter's strange poisoning, she had nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
And ten years later after birthing her daughter, it was safe to say that the time of reckoning had come. The time to say a goodbye that was never sufficiently prepared for.
"The Princess' lungs are completely eroded," the healer explained when the crown princess hesitated, as if Serpentine didn't know any better about her daughter's current condition. "She can no longer breathe properly, your highness. One and a half of her kidney is completely gone and lack of good blood flow affects her brain and cognitive system. Living is…pain for her."
Pain? Of course Serpentine knew about the pain that she had caused her daughter. Any good mother would have killed the child when breathing became torture and chore for her. Yet Serpentine had persisted, holding onto hope that was nonexistent simply because she found it hard to let go.
Serpentine leaned down, cradling her daughter's head on her laps. The girl was shivering, her lips blue and her skin ghostly pale like that of the creature of the night. She possessed a vibrant red hair that was certainly not the same as Serpentine's white silvery hair, but mirrored that of her father's, the crown prince.
"Perhaps I should have let go for a long time." She muttered to herself, caressing Elara's hair that was already falling off from its root. "Instead I held on quite foolishly and stubbornly. And it has caused her to be in so much pain."
She remembered how she had taken her daughter away from the same palace she was sure poisoned her. Abandoning thoughts for her position as crown princess, Serpentine had left the royal family that never really accepted her in a bid to find cure for her five weeks old daughter when it was clear that the palace physicians could do nothing.
And yet, ten years later after stringing Elara around the world. Seeking help from legendary healers, witches, vampires, and even gods alike, Serpentine had only done her frail daughter more harm than good.
Had she been wrong all along? Should she have ended all this the moment Elara was born? At least her beautiful daughter would have died a peaceful and less painful death than living out ten years of her life on concoctions of different kinds, with the sight of strange healers the only color to her limited life on a sick bed.
Why had Serpentine been so obsessed? Just why?
"Your highness…" a knight clad in a blood red regalia greeted as he entered the room. He bent a knee, his face set squarely as he stared only at Serpentine, his eyes never trailing down to the dying child on the bed.
"What is it, Knight Asborne? Have you sent the message?" The Crown Princess asked not taking her eyes off her daughter whose breathing could barely be heard anymore, and who shivered violently despite the many clothings covering her.
Asborne hesitated for a moment, before he answered. "The crown prince won't be coming to see off the princess." He finished without emotion.
Serpentine froze at that—but her shock lasted only for a moment before dark laughter bubbled out of her. The sound like an unusual turbulence on a once calm sea.
"Even now, he refuses to see his own daughter. I guess expecting him to see off Elara is asking for too much."
The emotionless mask the knight wore cracked, "Your highness…." He protested, fists clenched by his side like he couldn't afford to witness a long aged pain of the woman he served.
But Serpentine no longer had her attention on him, instead faced her daughter squarely. Wiping the sweat from Elara's brows, she made a decision she should have made ten years ago.
"Healer Zak, administer the medicine."
The healer startled at the request, but immediately stood from the ground she cowered on, going for a kettle that had long since been boiling in the room.
She poured the contents into a cup, and with unsteady hands, she brought to the crown princess a drug that would end her daughter's pain… and her life.
The crown princess took the cup with steady hands, then clenched her daughter's little hands in hers.
Many said Elara was cursed. That she had a damaged brain and was no good. Only Serpentine had the opportunity of knowing that Elara was intelligent, astute, and brave.
If she had never been poisoned, she would led a very good life. Instead, like most, she was caught up in the game of politics before she could utter a word against the world.
And as a mother, Serpentine failed to protect her.
"Elara," she said gently to the girl who had her eyes clenched so tightly, the creases from her furrowed brows stood out prominently.
Slowly, her eyes snapped open, revealing strange grey colored eyes—more like ash. No one Serpentine knew of in her own family or the royal family had said eye color, yet her daughter possesses it.
Even though Elara's eyes were seemingly open, the girl had long lost the ability to see or speak in the last few months. That was just evidence of how foolishly Serpentine had persisted. Even as Elara's body broke piece by piece, she kept her daughter alive while she stewed in the kind of maddening pain no child should ever have to know.
"Mother is here," Serpentine murmured, injecting a smile to her words, "I am here with the last drug you will ever have to take."
A weak smile tugged on the young girl's lips while Serpentine helped her up and then fed her the medicine without hesitation.
She stood, stepping away from her daughter and the bed, unable to look back and see what was to come. Meanwhile, her handmaidens looked up to the girl they had taken care of all their life, tears streaming down their face. Knight Asborne clenched his fists tighter by his side.
Unable to bear turning her back against her daughter at such an important time, Serpentine turned and ran the remaining small steps to her Elara.
The girl's young eyes were half opened and drowsy having drank the poisonous tea. And those eyes even though blind stared back at her mother while holding all the pain the world could not fathom.
"In your next world, you will be born healthy and beautiful." Serpentine said solemnly, holding her tears at bay.
A tear slipped from the princesses left eye but her bluish pale lips curved into a small smile at her mother. That was Elara, always smiling through the pain.
However she didn't talk, as she was unable to do so. It was hard to say whether she could hear the words either.
"Not only will you be born beautiful and healthy, but you will never experience the pain of being born into the royal family." Serpentine continued, gathering the young girl's small fingers in hers.
Another tear spilled from the princesses right eye, but she still maintained her immaculate, untainted smile.
Serpentine shut her eyes, her fingers slightly trembling. Opening it, she said softly, "And in that world, you will have a better mother."
The princesses smile remained ever bright, but her eyes shut against the world as she fell into an eternal sleep.
Before Serpentine could think to mourn, a young handmaiden entered the room, panting hard while looking straight at Knight Asborne.
On alert, the knight unsheathed his sword. "What has happened?" He growled.
"A knight is here…" the young girl said through her teeth, eyes wide with fear.
Serpentine detangled her fingers from that of her now dead child while covering the body with a white cloth.
"What Knight, Dana?" She asked the maiden.
"He's clad in silver white armor from head to toe." Dana said, skin pale like that of the now dead child.
"Get your head together Dana! There are a handful of knightly orders that wear silver white." Asborne chided the maid. Being on move all the time meant that Serpentine had to guard herself against people that wished to take her life, and they were probably thinking the same thing—which was that this could be another assaination attempt.
Dana swallowed. "He is wearing a helmet without a single opening. It should be hard for him to breathe and yet he seemed to be perfectly fine. His booth is made of metal as well, and he asks for you, your highness."
Serpentine looked at Asborne with surprised eyes. "Why is a Knight of Debt looking for me?"