One for You (pt.2)

 When the fool man had made end of his tale telling, I bemoaned myself. I had learned nothing new. I demanded of him the whereabouts of such information. Where did this foolish tale spawn from? He gathered for me a script berried beneath his works and unrefined scribbles. A forbidden text. I cried that I should have him struck down for his heresy. He remained calm before my divine wrath, however, handing me the script. He was but an old man, and knew its contents by heart. For me, this would now be my map by which to purge the heathens who's dare construct an abode on the mount that is rightfully mine.

We departed the fool-man, and I had that my knights would lay fire to the man's building next he left. I would not risk that he may be hiding more heretic lunacy. For this reason we tarried within Everald for some time, and left upon laying fire to his library of lies. We purchased what supplies were necessary and left at dawn, mine knights casting the building into flames. My maids asked that we should save what books may be of value, but I quieted them, explaining that nothing was of value as it had shared the halls with blasphemy.

On the road leaving town we were beset by guildsmen from Everald who sought to overtake us and visit vengeance upon us for the service I had so graciously done the city. They toiled against my knights, but failed. Each was beheaded and left in the road as warning to any more would-be traitors that would dare to assault the future queen. Despite their exceeding skill, some of my knights did suffer injuries. We set ourselves in the road to camp.

As we took to our tents, traders happened by the road, seeing that their kinsmen laid slain before them. They sought contention against us, and I ordered them put to death. My knights were becoming tired and weary at the combat, but they strove on for the sake of my divinity. I divided the spoils of the traitors among my knights as reward.

By morning, my retinue sought to load the carts with their spoils and saddle the horses, but I forbade them. They were the tools of peasants, as we were far above them. I chastised my servants, that they had become so corrupt by the world during our time. I understood they were not born of divinity as I was, but being supplicant to the divine, they were required to be greater than mere peasants. My maids bemoaned the choice, mummering against me by secret.

I read the script given to me, an old text from before man discovered the folly of worshiping the angels. It was a tale about a hideous woman who was shunned by all. It found its contents unfavorable, as I did not wish to read of something so base. Despite this, I understood that this script held key to me finding the courtyard of fables that people believed was more grand than my palace. The strange script spoke of coming up the north side of the mountain, so we departed of the roads and went to the crest of the mountain.

I looked on at its stature. Even I understood the greatness contained within and upon it. Despite this, the mountain was nothing before the angels. The hideous wretch in the script saw the mountain and sought its power. She wished to appease the Angel of Storms by settling a high alter. It disgusted me to know such a horrible person existed that would blaspheme the glory of the angels to a mere, tangible object.

When we reached the northern coast, my knights warned me that we were to enter the territory of my father's great foe, the Skorina. A plant that grew and fought against the people of the land for dominance. He warned that we were no match seeing as the all of the nations armies could not prevent it's growth. I was no fool. Divine I may be, but a warrior I was not. I hearkened unto my knights and we stayed along the calm waters of the lake for a time as I studied the script I was given.

It was around this time one of my maidens discovered she was with child. I was furious, but more so with this vile land, and less so with her. Had this land accommodated me, she would need not lay with my knights. I discharged her and her knight. She would not be my maid any longer now that proof of her being sullied was so apparent. Some of my other maids protested, wroth with my choice. How. Dare. They.

I discharged all my maids from me that had laid with a man. Due to my orders, it was all of them. Several were well to be without me, and several expressed worry. What would their queen do without them? It did not matter, as they were no more my maids! My chief lady cried to me that I would not venture alone among the knights that were left. It was uncouth for a woman of my stature to be alone among men. I ordered that my knights stay with their women, and establish camp along the coast.

When I made known my intentions t continue searching, my maids worried for me. But I cursed them that they dare speak to me as if they could retain me. I was born of divinity. They were not my maids, but whores taken by men. It was not their place to counsel me. My knights protested, but they were still loyal to me, and by my divine right of rulership, would dare not seek to stop me.

After my former knights had proven themselves traitorous and trapped me with bound within a tent, I vowed that I would make this journey on my own. During the night I escaped my binds and took myself a weapon of my knights. I thought to kill each of my traitors, but seeing as their women may be with children soon, I relented and left.

As I wandered the forest I pondered at the strange feeling of the cold steel within my hand. Should I hand taken his belt to hold the sword by? Should I have taken his gloves to make my hand more comfortable? Hard, unsightly bits of flesh grew on my hand. My feet bore them as well. Had I never walked so much in my life that my feet could not withstand the soil beneath them? Unacceptable.

I do not recall how long I walked before night fell upon my face. My stomach made a disgusting sound. I was famished, and I had no food. I was cold, with no place to sleep. I did dare not make fire, or my knights and maids may find me. When did I fear being seen by another?

I awoke in the morning in the hallow of a large tree. My fingers and limbs denied my commands. It was because I was unsightly. The divinity within me was rejecting my grotesque appearance, for sure. But the only water was north, along the coast. When I could finally beckon my limbs to move, I crawled that way.

The sands were cold and uninviting. The water was more so, but I had to clean myself. I could not honor my bloodline while being so disgraceful. I observed my body in the cold waters. My flesh was milky white, and mostly devoid of blemish. But I could see taint and disgust crawling upon my appendages. My hands were growing rough, and my feet made me sick to behold. Was I not descended from divinity? Did my father lie and whore's lie that he might take more women for himself?

I forced the thoughts from my head and departed the waters, feeling worse, but I was at least clean. I shivered for a long while as I walked along the coast toward the mountain until the sun's golden glow warmed me enough to move. I was, however, again reminded that I had not eaten. I looked upon the script in my procession. The wretch ate berries and hunted. I looked to the forest and demanded that it reveal its berries to me. It did not.

I wandered once more into the forest. It was more comfortable here, as the trees and canopy prevented the warmth of the land from leaving once it had gathered. Berries, roots, and the flesh of beasts? Where could they be? I prodded around the land, demanding it show me its bounty. It did not answer though. I fell upon it, striking it in frustration. Before the whole land though, I was quite small. It still did not show me its bounty.

By night, I fell upon my face, cradling myself and letting disgusting sound escape my mouth. I begged the land. I begged the "judge of the land" spoken of in the script that she would provide for me. I begged the "judge of the sky" that she would bathe me in warmth. Neither the land nor its supposed judges answered. The lies of the heathen, of course, were folly. I cast the rest of the script to the ground and made fire of it. I cut the land and grew my fire with its spoil. I would, at least, be saved from dying a dog's death!

The fire burned, but my anger burned hotter. I cut the trees, the bushes and the soil about me till my rage was subdued by my exhaustion. I then collapsed to the ground in a heap of soil. It stirred angrilly against me. It groaned and vexed me. Why was the soil now mocking me? I dug and struck at it weakly until pain shot through my hand and my body. I retracted my hand to find stinging incests attacking me. I had disturbed their hive! I demanded that they leave me, but they did not, stinging me and seeking my life. I would not die a dog's death, I would die the death of a maggot!

The smoke and heat of the fire I had made stayed their rage against me, and I cast burning limbs upon their hive to defend myself. Because of the stinging insects, I could not feel the burns I had inflicted upon my hands. After I had calmed, and fell against to the ground and bemoaned myself. But then I found within me inspiration. I have been given the sweet savor of honey many times, and in my youth had asked from whence it came. My maiden explained that insects make it of the juices of flowers and hide it within their homes. Was this this home, or simply a garrison?

I bothered myself to see! I tore into the hive once more. Many of the stinging creatures had perished from the fire, but not all. Pain shot through my arms, and my body as I was assaulted again. Soon, though, a vile feeling coated my hands. It was viscous and uncomfortable, making every part of my flesh feel wrong and dry. But the coating prevented the assault of the insects on my hands. I put more over my exposed body and continued my assault until there were no more. The sticky substances on my I recognized as honey. I took it took my lips and drank of it. Chewy morsels were spaced between gulps. I was eating their young?

No. They were giving me their young as tribute! Their maggots were the spoil of my victory! I ate them, and drank their honey from them, and sat down to the fire, falling into a restful slumber till the morning.

I made my way to the water again, bathing myself. It was not as offensive to touch the cold water because my body was so numb. I looked at myself in the reflection. My face was disfigured from the stinging insects assault. My arms, legs and body were covered with sores and my clothing upon the bank was sullied and unsightly. No more was I divine. I was a simple beast, forsaken by the world that she was destined to inherit. It was all because of the one who built an alter to the Angel of Storms above my palace. It was the fault of the wretch that sought to honor divinity with her disgusting mortal posturing. I cursed her aloud. I scorned her vile name. I reviled the day I heard of her. I vowed that I would find and destroy her alter, as her alter found and destroyed me...