One day, you wake up and you get crowned as the Queen.
One night, quite possibly the same night, you take a walk in your new castle and out of nowhere, you get turned into a swan.
What would you do? Would you blame the Fates? Or, would you blame the...
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One of the many advantages of being at close proximity to one's personal guard for many years also included the acquired skill of stealth; and Orynea had become quite a master of it. Her footsteps became lighter then feathers whenever she needed them to. Even with the discernible skills of awareness that Odile did possess, her queen had learned to best it over time and patience - and years of practice.
It was put to good use when she snuck past Odile's chambers on the lower landing and stepped out of the tower itself. The cool, settled stale air of the wide corridor in front of her suddenly reminded her of the outer robe or shawl she had not put on, her skin tingling with shivers thus.
"I do sincerely hope that no one is walking around the corridors as I am," she murmured under her breath after she contemplated on heading back up and putting on a warmer layer over her nightgown. It was too high a risk. Odile might get fooled from time to time through her deceptions, but she would not be always. "Fine night for a servant to be traumatised, if at all. The day of the coronation brought about a night of the queen in her nightgown, sauntering through the halls as if possessed by wraiths," she continued to narrate as she headed down the corridor.
She had yet to memorize the entire structure of the castle. However, for this night's adventure, she had a proper plan. She need only follow the corridors where light existed. That way it would not be hard to find her way back.
Even with a plan she considered to be infallible in action, she noted every turn she made and repeated them in her mind.
Left. Left, left. Left, left, second right. Left, left, second right, left. Left, left, second right, left, right -
She stopped in her tracks. A few feet in front of her was a chamber with its door slightly ajar, and the candlelight flickering inside was clearly visible through the inconsequential gap. She hesitated.
Should she keep walking past it or should she turn around? Perhaps someone left it behind unknowingly? Perhaps -
Her reasonings came to an abrupt end when a loud crash resounded within the room, a sliver of the sound slipping out through the doorway and echoing around the corridor. Frightened, Orynea grabbed at the nearest thing to hide herself behind, which happened to be a set of green draperies used to cover the hall windows.
There was a loud shriek that startled her further. She pressed her back against the glass and shut her eyes tight. She bit her lower lip to keep herself from screaming and held her breath, praying whatever it was that made the unearthly noise would not see her. With the curtains reaching to the floor and being as thick as they were, she was surely hidden properly from view.
Before she knew it, her head swooned and she blacked out.
#
Up, up, up in the sky, she rises and she rises.
The lonely swan in search of what she prizes,
she leaves her lake behind and she glides, oh!
To the vast, vast world she does not know...
The rhyme trickled into her thoughts quite unexpectedly. It was part of a tragic story of loss she had read as a child, about a swan who lost its mate to a hunter and spent her life futilely in search for the dead companion. She had wanted then to warn the swan to not do it, to not leave the sanctity and safety of her lake and encounter difficulties of an unknown land. As a young child, Orynea had failed to see how the lake itself had not been a haven for the two, for it was at their home that the beautiful swan's beloved had been culled.
Orynea felt her heart heave within her chest and her eyes pool. She grew unsteady as her vision blurred.
Her wings withdrew their span and crumpled closer to the body. However, that movement of comforting oneself sent her plunging straight towards the earth.
#
At Junis Palace, long after her maids, her ladies-in-waiting and her staff had retired to bed, Queen Mother Ersyne was wide awake. Her subjects could only suspect, and never could they prove those suspicions. It would involve breaching the set precedence and possibly inciting the rage of Her Highness Queen Mother Ersyne herself.
She could not have preferred it better. To have them in complete dark might sound more reasonable, however, she had her reasons for dropping the hints every now and then. Whether heartless and harsh she should remain for the time to come, or let her age play her emotions, she had yet to decide. However, she could not remain ruthless to innocents anymore. That part of her legacy had long whithered away, although she cared not to admit it. Emotions softened by age had won over her a long time ago.
"Pity," he would scoff and snort in disgust. "Pity is pitiful to pursue. Pity does not become our true nature."
She had always wondered then. He always turned everything immensely romantic in nature.
Yes, she was exercising pity on the ones who served her at the moment.
She was afraid too. Quite afraid. Enough to stay awake at night and keep guard by herself, even though she could distinctly hear the occasional snores of the royal guards at the front gate.
Kyzeleia had remained at peace for so long, the guardsmen were becoming lax. Her dear King's father had been the last one in memory who had fought wars. King Thewyr was tyrannical and merciless to those who betrayed him, to those who dared to stand against him, to those who even considered charging at him a possibility. He was a beast through and through.
His son was no different. He, however, had respite from exercising those qualities to an extent, because the world at large cowered at the mighty power of the Revod'yor family. While it worked out well for the kingdom itself, for they too witnessed less of the tyranny that ran within the veins of this lineage, it did not serve her King any form of virtue. The smothered, repressed instinct for ferocity had to break free of its restraints somewhere, on someone, sometime.
Standing by the open window of her bedchamber, Ersyne suddenly felt a shiver under her skin and she clasped her fingers around the thick curtains to pull them shut. Before she could do so, her eyes caught something distinctly white spread across the sky majestically against the shine of the bright moon. The shimmering stars almost provided an aura to the creature.
Ersyne was captivated for a precious moment until the image suddenly shattered as the beautiful figure of elegance lost its stature amongst the stars and rapidly descended to the cover of green of the Grigoire Forest.
The Queen Mother gasped, horrified. Her instincts drove her to climb onto the ledge of the window. Many warnings, many alarms simultaneously pierced through her mind, through her thoughts. Her bedchamber's window located so close to the forest was as she desired it, and required it. Without a moment of hesitation, dressed in her nightgown, she leapt towards the cover of the nearest tree.
Unlike the creature, she was aware of firmer control of her movements.
... Pity is pitiful to pursue ...
She grunted at the words that resurfaced in her mind as her feet lightly touched the topmost branch. The tree rustled and moaned as it let go of a few of its foliage at the impact. Ersyne lowered herself with practised agility until she sat on the branch, and then made a clean jump towards the forest floor.
"And yet, it is still you I pity the most," she gruffly murmured to the wind.
The wind was still, quiet, and unimpressed by any of the stirrings of the night.
