Never an After

Four

The first thing I see is how far down we are.

Light seeps through the cracks in the branches above, forming a domelike structure. Waterfalls circle the place, making it impossible to escape. A magnificent castle stands tall in the center, its tip breaking the surface.

It was magnificent. It was terrifying. It was sickening, and it was beautiful. This was Argenta's birthright.

"Darling," she purrs, "Don't you think I'd know these kind of things?" Why didn't I know? Many princesses with as high status as this one are taught magic at a young age, to 'ward off evil'. Funny how they're the evil here.

I mutter an enchantment under my breath. Just to give myself a bit of extra speed — if I did too much, she'd notice. Argenta starts humming a bit. "See? It was a good thing to take him instead. I'm going to say he died. And," she looks at me, "If you don't go along, you'll find yourself tied to a stake."

Of course they treated us like vampires.

"Go along." She hisses. "Go along..."

"Yeah, yeah. Heard you the first time, princess."

The castle's door looks like a gaping, extravagant maw. The moat that circles it is, unfortunately, crystal clear, and in it I sometimes can see bones drifting by. It looked like whoever owned this place was like, 'Bones? Oh, those are totally not going to creep everyone out...' I shudder.

The second I walk into the castle, the doors magically close with a flourish. Once-extinguished braziers light up with a new vigor, the tongues of fire dancing eagerly. Our footsteps echo through the silent hall.

Finally, the last candle is coaxed to life, and it illuminates a throne. Cut from obsidian, it seems to have a history that lost its luster. Diamonds glitter hungrily, embedded to contrast with the dark stone. Sitting on this throne is a woman in pearly white. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in blonde, almost white waves. A small, secretive smile touches her face.

"Now you might get to die, if you're lucky." Argenta smiles innocently, absolutely fake. Doubtless she learned it from her mother.

The queen looks down disdainfully. Her very presence commands obedience, silence.

"Welcome, Mercy of Neverfield. You know why you have been brought here, do you not?"

"And you know why your spoiled idiot of a princess burned Neverfield, do you not?" Wrong move. I grimaced, knowing what would come next: death.

"SILENCE!" The queen yells. Threads slowly snake their way through my lips, and I am silenced. Agony rips through me, and blood wells up on the floor.

Argenta smiles. "Foolish? You are a nincompoop, if I'm supposed to be foolish."

"Hush, my child." The queen silences her. "I await her death sentence." She sneers at me, then turns to Argenta. "You decide her fate."