Elements of Glory: The Princess of Nothing

’It is said there are two realms and that is it – First Realm and the other. I submit that there are more, many more! Endless realms! We are but a junction in all of that… Belie my name as much as you wish, but I will prove it!’

-The Wasgician Constangale, to the Wasgician Council, shortly before he disappeared while searching for other realms

OTHER-REALM

The moon was enormous and white in the evening sky, like a dim sun on the glittering, starry, black of the night. The stars above twinkled like the Sapphire Caves of Wendalla, in mostly clear heavens. A few dark clouds marred the scene, remnants of a long rain. The fresh, sweet, smell of it still hung in the air. Somewhere in the distance a night bird let out a long mournful cry, so mournful indeed that it sounded like it had lost its family and might never find it again. The sorrow was so desperately poignant in those lonely hadrohs of the night.

Mist and fog hugged the dips and gullies between cleared land that ran through thick, richly green, forest. A lonely dirt road was a slash through the middle of the cleared area, and on both sides of it were handsome farms. The houses were white stone and dark wood, with black thatched roofs. Stone chimneys leaned crookedly out of the thatch, letting the smoke of smouldering fires weave lazily into the sky, tingeing the fresh night air with a savoury flavour.

It was peaceful and serene out here. The farmers and their families were tucked away in their beds, safe and secure. No one would have expected, or guessed, that walking along their muddy road that very night, through the stillness and beauty, was something… a being of incredible evil! He was a powerful man, responsible for death and destruction across the known Kingdoms. Everyone knew of him, and everyone knew his name.

Ratikgurr.

It was a name that inspired fear. It was the name of a nightmare that children and adults dreaded alike. He walked where he wanted, did what he wanted, and none opposed him. There was a time when people would have, and did stand up against him. They fought against his minions and his evil, great brave men and women had... but when the world had changed twenty-two cycles ago, when he’d wiped out all opposition in the Weral Kingdom, leaving it a lonely, deadly, land… after that, no one dared stand against him.

From that time forward, the cloaked man, who wandered the world whithersoever he might go, had, for all intents and purposes, ruled the Seven Kingdoms of the North.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not for Ratikgurr.

He knew there were many lands and many Kingdoms beyond the Seven Kingdoms – and there were powers even greater that he could conquer. Ratikgurr wasn’t satisfied with the Seven Kingdoms... he wanted to rule the world!

He knew he could too, he knew that absolutely no one, even from some of the more powerful Unknown Kingdoms of the world – like the Pental – would stand against him if he controlled all the Elements of Glory. He’d had them twenty-two cycles ago, he’d had them all! It was how he’d wiped out all opposition from the Weral Kingdom… but the same night that he’d used them, he’d lost them.

They had scattered to the four winds.

They’d taken new guises, new shapes, and he commanded them no more. For more than two decades he’d been searching for that power, so he could move on his ultimate conquest of the world.

He was growing impatient. He was growing angry.

Ratikgurr stopped in the middle of the road, near an open puddle of dark water that reflected the moon. He crouched down on the roar, and with a long finger, he drew a perfect circle in the mud. He put a straight line through the circle, and then made a small circle in the middle of the big one. Slowly, and with care, he created Gemgic runes in the mud beside the circle. Quietly he chanted to himself. His voice was low and rich, smooth like velvet.

When he was done, Ratikgurr stood up, clasped his large powerful hands behind his back, and waited.

He felt the chill after a count of ten. Then there was a cool and hot whispering breath behind him.

’It’s been too long,’ a woman’s voice whispered, in what sounded like a sad song – sadder even than the night-bird’s.

‘What have you found for me, Demoness?’ Ratikgurr demanded, turning around to face a gorgeous, horned, woman, who was dressed in a long black and red gown that hugged her body and made her looked even prettier – despite her glowing red eyes, fangs, cawed hands, and obsidian horns.

The Demoness bit her bottom ruby-red lip. With a mischievous smirk, she ran her clawed fingers gently across Ratikgurr’s grey chin. ‘Straight to business, as always,’ the Demoness cooed.

’Your eyes are mine! I have given you, for twenty-two cycles, all you could have asked for, and for this you owe your allegiance and your service to me. What have you seen, my child?’ Ratikgurr growled impatiently.

‘The Rebels have found one,’ the Demoness smiled. Her fangs were there, yes, amongst her perfect white teeth, but they were subdued, soft, if it was possible, fitting in perfectly. Her smile was delightfully enthralling. She was like a goblet of beautiful poison, the kind that might be used to trick, the kind that might look like perfect blue habrin-berry juice – enticing, but deadly, that’s what the Demoness was.

‘An exchange is set near the borders of the Weral Kingdom,’ the Demoness told Ratikgurr, noticing the way he was looking at her, and smiling all the more. It was as if she knew his thoughts, knew how she desperately enchanted him, and she liked it. He had great power over her, but Ratikgurr knew, in his heart, if he would admit it or not, she held power over him too.

Ratikgurr clenched his fists, forcing himself under control. He could not let her have that power over him, he would need to control himself better. So control himself better, he would. He smiled at the Demoness, bone white, needle-like, teeth shining out from the shadows of his dark hood. ’As always, you have done well my child.’ He raised a clawed grey hand.

Now he would prove to her again who was master and who was slave in their relationship. He was cruel, more so than anyone who had existed in many long cycles, and he enjoyed his cruelty – as others might enjoy a walk in a peaceful wood, a picnic on a summer day, or the company of good friends.

’Wait!’ the Demoness cried, a note of fear in her voice, knowing what Ratikgurr would do, knowing his cruelty all too well. ‘One thing more,’ she pleaded, ’one thing more I can tell you, if you don’t send me back there.’

Ratikgurr smirked evilly at the Demoness. He was having his fun now. May it be said of him now that he was quite an evil lout, and it is easy to see just from his personality why so many people avoided him.

The Demoness, of course, had no choice but to come when he called, but she should not be pitied in that… or shall we say, she should not be pitied yet.

‘How can you see for me if you’re not in the Demon Realms, my dear?’ Ratikgurr cooed softly, enjoying his game.

’For just an hadroh of freedom then?’ the Demoness begged.

Ratikgurr was a viciously pitiless man, but he wasn’t against rewarding his faithful servants, especially after he’d put them in their place, especially after he’d had his fun with them. He nodded, without words, and the Demoness gasped, closing her eyes, sighing.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and her relief made Ratikgurr smirk all the more.

’This begging does not become you, my dear. Regain your composure,’ Ratikgurr ordered.

He did so enjoy the begging.

The Demoness nodded, and pulled herself together, taking upon her again the arrogance that fit so well. She wore it like the gown that shaped her body so nicely.

Yes, so nicely, Ratikgurr thought to himself.

‘Well then?’ Ratikgurr demanded, pushing his thoughts away, stomping on the Demoness’s power over him.

’The Elements are not alone anymore,’ the Demoness reported. ’There is a new and greater power that could be a threat to you… Siakul,’ the Demoness spoke the name almost fearfully.

The word Siakul was of course a word of a dark speech, from olden times, from the Realm Before, and Ratikgurr knew the meaning well. Dark Angel it meant. There was not much that scared Ratikgurr any more – and he wasn’t exactly scared at this point, but he was... concerned. He clenched his fists so hard that they hurt. His top lip curled into an ugly sneer. ’You’re sure?’ he demanded.

The Demoness nodded.

Ratikgurr wiped a foot over the symbol and runes he’d drawn on the ground. Then turned back to the Demoness. ’One hadroh,’ he told her, and his voice was low, cold, and impatient. Though, of course, he was pleased with the information he’d received. Ratikgurr knew that information was power… and this information would at the very least help him prepare, so he could keep his power.

’And rain?’ the Demoness beseeched softly. The sound of her voice might have made anyone pity her, but of course, the Demoness in her own way was almost as horrible a person as Ratikgurr.

Ratikgurr glanced at the sky, and then back at his servant. ‘And rain,’ he growled, knowing that she’d gone above and beyond… She deserved it. Putting his hands to his sides, leaving the Demoness to her solitude, Ratikgurr shot off into the air, flying across the sky, speaking Gemgic words as he went, that called in dark, gloomy, churning, rain clouds.

Rain began to pour again on the lands below.

Standing in the rain, eyes closed, face to the sky, on a lonely muddy road, was a Demoness. She sighed, letting the cool raindrops sizzle against her hot skin. Steam rose up off of her as the rain washed over her in sheets. She savoured the moment, savoured the coolness, and walked alone, peaceful and happy – in the rain – for one merciful hadroh.

There were very few things the Demoness loved.

But she loved the rain.