"Sorry for disturbing you madam but the Head of the Black Council has arrived and is demanding an audience," her servant announces, looking terrified as she delivers the surprise news.
Demanding. Not requesting. It makes Cierra's blood boil as she puts down her quill. And this short notice. Must she always bow to the proud Pele Murtra's will and her iron fist?
The warrior already forced Arwen's suitor to go and visit the poisoner brat as a ploy to keep an eye on the Arrons so soon after the assassination attempt and now this? Just in the midst of Arwen finally letting Klaude properly court her, helping her to build the future ties that she will use to fully control Arwen and benefit Fennbirn when she is queen crowned.
Cierra cannot wait for the day she finally seizes power. She'll find one way to be rid of Pele forever. The warrior has always been a thorn in her side. A drain on her power. She doesn't care if Arwen is the first shadow to be part of the island's triplet cycle for eons, she doesn't care what bogus treaties her ancestors signed - she will never willingly relinquish her birthright or her power. Especially that to an unruly warrior like Pele.
Still, Cierra barely has time to prepare before the Head of the Black Council, bursts in with her long stride and bright red cape billowing behind her, a lighter shade than her blood red hair which would've been more appropriate for funerals. So much red. Representing intensity, passion, blood, death and more.
So many polished silver weapons attached to her side, all varying in length and the intricacy of their designs and hilts and as always there is a stern expression of her face.
Cierra is almost nervous. Almost.
But she puts on the mask and bows to Pele, acting like a devoted subject to play the game. In her head she grins. Soon enough she will make Pele bow to her when she rules. How she lusts for that day, how she lusts for power.
"I apologise I haven't prepared a proper meal or refreshments for you and your companions, the guards at the border failed to notify me of your arrival, they will be punished for their insolence I assure you," Cierra says sweetly, venom coating the undertones of every word she uttered.
Pele only gives a smile in return, mimicking Cierra's own, "now now Cierra I know you like your unchecked violence but no need to dish out any punishments for I instructed them not to," she pauses, her green eyes gleaming as she gives Cierra a purposeful look, "I like arriving at my cities unexpectedly, adds a nice element of surprise to everyone's day. I find it's much easier to see how things properly run when I arrive unannounced, there's no time for any treacherous snakes to pull the wool over my eyes shall we say."
Both women note the terminology. The subtle barbs amd insults; and of course the frequent reminders that Umbra belongs to the island now the Goddess has birthed a new shadow queen. It was in the contents of the shadow treaty signed by their ancestors long ago. They likely thought Fennbirn would never see another shadow queen born and that their family would always retain their power. But alas. Fate struck. The Goddess' will. A will that no one can challenge or alter. But Cierra can try.
Cierra nods, smiling grimly as she takes a sip of her famous nightshade wine before saying, "oh how rude of me, would you care for some wine?"
Ah. So many pleasantries. So many lies. So many manipulations and false hospitality. Such is the Raduron way.
"As long as it isn't tainted, for my taster isn't here and I've never been told the contents of Umbra's famous nightshade wine after all," Pele says smoothly, eyeing up the bottles of wine and Cierra chuckles.
"Oh Pele, no need to be so paranoid this isn't Prynn, we're not like the unruly poisoner brats here," Cierra says, still chuckling to herself though it looks forced.
"Well they may be immune and of course they are naturally experts in brews and potions - but any fool can use poison," Pele says, eyeing her bracelet that she wears. Similar to the one she gave to Morrigan, Nimue and the boys. It protects her from a shadow's influence. It has always been passed down through the family and Pele thanks the Goddess for it.
Cierra makes a disgruntled noise in agreement, "well enough on the morbid topic of poisons, may I ask why you are here?"
Pele smiles, starting to spin a very small knife between her fingers. An old habitat. One most Murtras tend to do. Helps with the concentration and balance of using their war gift. To master any blade, however big or small. Many use it now in particular, fresh off the reign of a war queen which of course boosted their own gifts and strength. It is essential that powerful gifts have control.
"Well, you see Cierra I have a problem," Pele says, making a deliberate show of her skill as she keeps on moving the knife between her fingers. It makes Cierra a little uneasy just as Pele intended. As if her height, muscled build and blood red hair wasn't intimidating enough. Pele is quite calm for a warrior, has better control of her temper. That makes her more threatening to Cierra, it is hard to read her. Being Head of the Black Council has taught her well and that there are other skills to use other than brute force and weapons. She is unlike her warrior ancestors in that regard. Cierra can reluctantly respect that, most warriors cannot play the game of thrones after all.
"Problem?" Cierra asks, raising an eyebrow and feigning innocence in her tone, "and what problem would that be?"
If that Murtra bitch thinks I'm going to willingly and outright admit anything then she is foolish indeed, Cierra thinks to herself as she keeps her charade of innocence going.
"The problem of you continuing to try and rule Umbra behind my back," Pele says, her tone growing colder as her temper starts to rise, "I've been informed that the latest was you authorising an execution without bringing him to face the crown's justice. Do I need to remind you that the crown's justice includes the entirety of the island, including Umbra."
Cierra's smile drops at that, her cold eyes narrowing as she goes to speak but Pele doesn't give her the chance.
"Not to mention the past crimes of continuing to have some of Umbra's residents continue to pay the crown's taxes to your family instead of the Black Council," Pele says lightly, looking directly at Cierra now as her eyes move down. To the expensive extravagant purple jewels at Cierra's throat and of course her matching purple dress, made with expensive, extravagant materials imported to the island. More cost due to its foreign origins. Then the purple gems woven intricately into her hair. Such finery, such excessiveness, all to hide the corrupt flesh beneath.
But dressed up in her costume she looks like royalty. Which is exactly her intention. Appearances matter.
Pele finishes analysing her and chuckles a little, "I can see why you've been hoarding the crown's money, your tastes have only gotten more expensive and exorbitant over the years, I thought that was impossible but for once you've exceeded my expectations Cierra congratulations," she says smoothly, the sharpness underlying in her every word. A warrior who learns to her words as weapons as well as the physical ones she adorns herself with is quite a force to be reckoned with and Pele knows it, she knows her own power and the effect it has. That is why she is one of Cierra's biggest threats. For now.
Cierra rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to defend herself again but Pele holds her hand up and even Cierra knows better to defy the ruler of Fennbirn. For now.
She will wait though, until the famed warrior is weakened and isolated, she will make sure Pele barely even notices the darkness coming to suffocate her until it's too late. Yes. For the promise of untold power and revenge. She can be patient.
"Umbra may have been ruled by your family in complete isolation from the island for a time but let's make one thing clear, times have changed, and in the treaty signed by your ancestors eons ago it gave your city and family it's freedom from the rest of the island's affairs but this was to end the moment a shadow queen was born again in the cycle," Pele says coldly, circling Cierra now like a predator, "and you have Queen Arwen do you not?"
"Yes," Cierra bites with a grimace, fantasising about the amount of ways she could kill the rat who told Pele of the execution and Pele herself. She doesn't know which is more tempting.
Cierra used to be able to keep the secrets of her dealings better. She has had many spies slaughtered in the dead of night for their betrayal. But they were never found. Never linked back to her. She briefly wonders which one of her subjects had the audacity and bravery to tell Pele. The people know what Cierra does to her enemies, to those who betray or challenge her.They fear her. They fear her family and their gifts. But perhaps they now fear Pele more. Cierra hasn't anticipated that. It may be a dangerous mistake. That might cost her.
Pele continues with her interrogation, "and Queen Arwen is a shadow is she not?"
"Yes," Cierra snaps, wanting nothing more than to use her gifts to wipe that smug smirk of off the war gifted woman's mouth. But she does value her head and prefers that it stay on her shoulders. She has no doubt that Pele can sever her head with one blow so quickly Cierra won't even notice until she is dead. She knows that Pele's war gift runs strong.
"Ah so now we've hit that little snag and now you actually admit you deliberately deceived the Head of the Black Council?" Pele asks, raising an eyebrow.
It takes all of Cierra's willpower not to throttle the warrior but that would be foolish. She cannot let her emotions control her in these delicate matters.
"It appears so," Cierra responds with no further comment.
"I thank you for your admission of guilt and cooperation, my guards and I will be seizing some of your assets, jewels, money and the like in payment for the loss of taxes and also one of your most prized estates and all its assets will also be taken from you for authorising that man's death without consulting me," Pele says smugly, spinning both her knives around now as she calls her guards into the room, all war gifted, mostly lean and muscled women and starts giving them orders.
There are a chorus of respectful replies from them all as they start doing Pele's bidding, ignoring Cierra's shouts and protests. They listen to Pele without a second thought, all warriors united together under a war gifted's rule.
"That man would've died either way because of his crimes, what difference does it make if I was the one who ordered it, Umbra's justice was served," Cierra snarls bitterly, clenching her fists tightly together, almost drawing blood with her sharp nails, almost like claws at times.
"No," Pele says shaking her head, "the island's justice was not served and the difference it makes is you continuing to undermine my authority as the ruler of this island. You are my subject, you bow to me. Not the other way around. I think it would be best if you learn that unless you want to eventually lose your head for treason."
Cierra gasps and then laughs almost manically, "you won't be leader for much longer with the Ascension approaching and you would never cut off a queen's guardian's head."
Pele let's out a harsh laugh at that, "queens guardian you may be but you are not above the law, you are not above your ruler and it would be a foolish mistake on your part indeed to underestimate my bloodlust, do not forget the gift I possess. And as for cutting off your head specifically, I'm sure I could be more creative and come up with a more interesting array of methods to ensure your death, I wouldn't want you to feel disappointed in me."
She takes a few seconds breath as she thinks and then gives Cierra a thoughtful glance,
"And thank you for reminding me, that's another matter I will take up with the Black Council when I return to Indrid Down," she says, her smile growing even bigger when Cierra's one falls, "we will discuss whether we think you're fit to continue to foster Queen Arwen with that criminal background of yours building up."
"What?" She splutters, genuinely looking shocked for a moment before it is gone and speaks a lot more calmly this time, "now Pele be reasonable, I've kept her safe for twelve years and it is nearing the Ascension anyway, there is no point."
She can just about cope with losing some of her assets. They can be replaced. But she cannot deal with losing Arwen. Her biggest and most indispensable asset of all. A queen, chosen by the Goddess. Cierra's only key to controlling the island, to seize the power she was born to one day take. To unite the whole of Fennbirn essentially under her rule, her reign and her power with Arwen dancing as her puppet at the stage of it all. She can't lose Arwen. She won't.
"Oh I am being reasonable, it's actually apart of my job you see," Pele says in a condescending tone to belittle Cierra even more, "I'm sure the Havens would be more than happy to relieve your family of the task and raise their station."
Cierra blanches at that. Not the Havens. Not the second most powerful family. Fostering a queen is power with the promise of more to come. The Havens could use Arwen to take the Radurons status eventually. She can never allow that. Her birthright and power is the most important thing to her. She'd rather slit her own throat than see a Haven take a Raduron's place at the forefront of Umbra.
"You can't do this," Cierra cries in disbelief, marching up to Pele's face almost as if she is going to strike her like she does to the servants who irk her, like she does to Arwen when the brat is insolent. The movement doesn't go unnoticed by the warrior who instinctively touches the small dagger lying at her side.
"I most certainly can," Pele says with a smile as she watches her warriors search the estate, "if you have a complaint about the way I handle my business do take it up with the Council though I warn you, we are very busy these days, we do have a country to run after all."
Cierra stays silent at that, not trusting herself to say anymore.
"I think I'll leave a few of my guard and trusted warriors here, for the time being to ensure Umbra is cooperating and running efficiently under my rule," Pele says, before her tone goes more serious, "and you will make a public declaration to my Umbra citizens of how they should pay taxes specifically to my guards and something along the lines of how they will never pay the crowns taxes to your family again or they will be punished and made an example of," she says smoothly before continuing again, "And you will admit your crimes, you will do the walk of atonement under the guidance of the priestesses before begging my forgiveness. And me being the benevolent ruler that I am will grant it."
No. Anything but that. The walk of atonement is rarely done. But it is so humiliating and belittling, a way to make the criminal feel lowly and insignificant. It will send a message to the island that's for sure. It will ruin her image.
Cierra splutters at that, shaking her head, "the walk of atonement," she bristles, a manic look invading her blue eyes, "that is a custom reserved for petty poor criminals, not me. I am a Raduron, part of one of the most ancient and powerful families on this island, and I will not."
"You will," Pele suddenly snarls, coming threateningly closer to Cierra again who has the brains to take a step back, "you will make give up your assets that I desire, you will make that speech, you will make that walk of atonement and you will never disobey me again."
She takes a moment to regain her calm as her tone becomes more hushed but all the more deadly, "or I will personally cut off your head and decorate it with a spike," she whispers and smiles coldly, "you will be an example to what happens to those who disobey or try to undermine my rule."
Cierra's eyes widen and she nods stiffly. If she says anymore she will surely get arrested and her punishment will be even worse.
For now she will obey. For now she will submit. For now she will weaken herself. To keep herself on the chessboard. All she needs to do is keep Arwen in her grasp. She can afford to lose everything else but the queen.
But Pele should take care for it won't be her rule much longer. And once it's over, before the warrior even has time to blink it will be checkmate.