I am the Goddess's prize.
Held front and center, I am again seated between her legs, this time as she lords over the Hells from a black wrought iron geometric throne fit for a deity. All morning I've been observing these proceedings. Learning them. The patterns they follow, the mannerisms of her court, how they tend to address each other, and most importantly, the way Umbra responds to them.
I've gathered a fair idea of how things work here.
I'm going to participate in the next one.
One of her many advisors reads out, "The matter of the most recent fallen, my Queen. Some of your court wishes to… address the wyvern in the room."
Maybe I'll sit this one out instead.
"Fine," Umbra huffs, waving him off as she feeds me a strip of seared grayfin. "Speak, all of you. The floor is yours."
A man steps into the light and bows his head. He's a dark green and sandy brown wyrm, with one of the longest tails I've ever seen. His body is wound in several places with thorny rose vines and red blossoms. He's Wretched. "My Queen. First and foremost, I would like to discuss the possibility of making a coordinated offensive. The weeks following any smiting are particularly prone to inspiring thoughtful Fables. As we have so often done, a motion to draw their attention to the fact Aurora has enemies may yield a fair number of recruits."
"No. That is not happening," Umbra replies in her icy whisper. "As I've told you, Wrenn… We are biding time. Indefinitely."
I think that's because of me.
"Might I make a suggestion, my Queen?" one of her advisors, a green and gray lindwurm named Visdeni, says from our right. He's late in age with a bend to his spine, sprouting a few patches of roses here and there. "Perhaps we ought to execute some endeavor, if not an offensive. Perhaps a social injection, a whisper of rumor that this punishment was unjust. Or outright disingenuous."
"It follows precedent, my Queen," another adds from the left. She's a blue and white wyvern, with an axe blade on her tail and a rose blossom just behind her ear. Seryl is her name. "As you yourself have declared many times prior. The iron is hot. What else is there to do but strike it?"
A black and orange Wretched dragon named Oliver, also on the left, crows, "Hear, hear. People are more inclined to think critically when they witness Aurora's tyranny firsthand. At the very least, we should enact some form of means to seize upon this opportunity. As we have done following any other fall, after any other smiting, with any other draconid."
Right here in her lap, I shift with discomfort.
"All of you are making the same grievous mistake," Umbra hisses, blind eyes wide as she gazes down at me from above. "This is not any other draconid. This is my Crimson."
I blush a few shades, hugging her arms around me.
"On that note," someone rumbles from the right, and a shadowy dracofae moves out of the darkness into sight as he steps forth to the foot of the throne. Dark brown skin. Black hair. Black scales. Black moth wings. Black horns. Red roses. Vander the Black gives me a lasting and evaluative stare. "I would ask you, my Queen, for the sake of clarity. Who is this wyvern to you?"
Holding me with both arms, her giant hands curled around me, Umbra leans forward and sharply whispers, "She is my Crimson. We are mates."
That draws some amount of chatter from the court.
Now I'm nervous. But I know I'm protected.
"Mates," Vander repeats with a slow nod. "Understood. And what makes her special to you, my Queen?"
"Everything."
Blushing again.
"If that's the case, why not retaliate for her sake? I won't deign to even suggest I possess your shrewd tactical acuity, but I and many of us simply wish to understand your reasons for this stay of action, my Queen."
"My darling rose is injured… Mending her burned wings and her broken, ailing, aching heart… That is my utmost priority. Countermeasures complicate it. And they distract. Do you understand, Vander?"
"I… believe I do. Although… If you are preoccupied with seeing to her care, we could do this on our own, my Queen. Simply say the word, and we of the Roseguard will execute your will. Autonomously."
"No." Umbra takes a deep breath, sliding the back of a claw up my neck to lift my chin a little. It feels enticing. "No… My Crimson's fall from the Heavens is no opportunity. My Crimson's fall is a tragedy. One which will be addressed with immediacy. And totality." She carefully spreads my left wing, inspecting the vicious burns that have seared holes through my red webbing. "Once she is healed from this pain… She will decide. How… and to what extent we retaliate."
What?
"I'm sorry, my Queen?" someone else says, and another man steps forth from the shadows in the grand hall. A black and silver dragon, dressed in gray robes with a sword hanging off his hip. I'm not sure I know his name. "Pardon the intrusion, Vander, but certainly I'm far from the only one who's questioning that course of action. A freshly fallen draco, without so much as a single rose, who has no experience combating our enemy, is to dictate the extent of our combative measures?"
How dare he question our Goddess?
She sighs. "Your inquiries are forever welcomed, Plutoryl, as is the case for you all… But you are mistaken. Yes, my dear Crimson will decide how we retaliate. I will dictate the execution of her will. And you will see to it."
"Ah. Of course." He laughs a little, clapping a hand to his nephew's shoulder. "No cause for concern, is there? As reliable as ever, my Queen."
Vander hums, frowning at me. "I'm merely trying to understand. My Queen, why does a newcomer hold such sway?"
"Because she is my mate," she hisses again, tilting forward over me. "Must I say it a third time, Vander? Enough. You will listen. All of you. Crimson is an extension of me. Her will is my will. Her desires are my desires. Her demands are my demands. Her word… Is mine. As if I myself have spoken it. Is that clear enough for you? Do you understand my decree?"
That's right. I'm hers.
Vander lowers his horns. "Yes, my Queen. I meant no offense either, Crimson."
"Well enough." I shrug one shoulder and decide to participate after all. "Vander. One question. Were you Wretched before or after the Great Incineration?"
He stiffens a little. "Before, Lady Crimson."
There it is. I nod. "That will be all. Dismissed.*
"One final inquiry," Plutoryl says with a grin and a lifted claw. "How are we to refer to your lovely courtier, my Queen? Just by name hardly merits the respect she deserves, eh?"
"That's her choice." Umbra scratches my head with her usual faint smile. "Whatever you like, my little rose."
"Hmm. That will do. The Queen's Rose."
"Ahh… Perfection… Yes. Yes. My Queen's Rose…"
I keep my chin up, daring anyone to protest.
Plutoryl jostles his nephew around and laughingly says, "Then welcome to the Hells, my Queen's Rose! Good to have you! Do mind the old lizard's temperament, I ought to say. She can get a wee bit grouchy."
She growls, "Give me one good reason to keep you alive, insect."
"Morale, most certainly!"
"Damn you. Get out of my sight. All of you."
"Hark, nephew, Wrenn! 'Tis time we fled the scene!"
"Aye, lest we all suffer for your shenanigans."
"My Queen." Vander pays his respects. "My Queen's Rose."
Once they vacate the floor, I tug on Umbra's robe and she stops everything to give me her attention. Well pleased, I murmur, "Didn't Plutoryl kill Vander's father? Or is that another lie?"
"Ah. No, it's true. But… It is a complicated family matter, and I would prefer to respect their privacy. However, I can assure you Plutoryl killed Leonidas for good reason. And Vander did attempt to take revenge upon his arrival. But the two have since come to an understanding. They're quite close these days. Like father and son. I'm rather fond of them…"
"Hm. I see. But Plutoryl disrespected you in front of your whole court. And they questioned you. Why?"
"Understand, my rose… This is not the Heavens. Unlike Aurora, I make no pretense of being infallible. Nor do I suppress dissent or differing opinions. As such, my court functions very differently. In truth, this is more of a forum. If I grant a draconid the floor, they may speak their minds freely. Most anything is permitted. Questions are answered. Doubts are reassured. Concerns are dealt with. Ideas are considered. Banter is shared, and Plutoryl is quite the jester. Do you understand?"
"I do, yes. That's a good way of doing things. I think. Within reason…"
"Fret not, my darling." She titters, poking my lips with the back of a finger. "They know their places. That much is certain."
I kiss her hand. "Good. What's next? May I help you with it? I don't want to just sit up here and look nice, I want to fight. With you. Alongside you."
"Oh? My, you certainly are taking all this in stride. I anticipated far more… Mmm. Conflict, perhaps. Difficulty. No reservations toward participating in and contributing to a court of bloodthirsty malefactors? Any particular moral clashes, Crimson? Anything?"
"Not many, Umbra. I know where I am. I know who I'm with. I'm not here to beg you to be good. I'm here to be with you. I don't imagine I'm quite as bloodthirsty, but I'm not going to barge in and interfere with your methods. I know you have your reasons for what you do. I have my reasons to support you. That's all there is to it."
"Hm." She gazes over my head, scratching her claws through my hair as she considers my words. "I'm grateful, my rose. I wasn't aware of this. Might I ask your reasons?"
My arms resting upon her legs on either side of me, I look out over the illuminated floor into the deeper recesses of the dark. Too many silhouettes to count. All of them Wretched, I'm certain. They are here in the Hells attending the Fallen Queen's court. For one reason or another, they oppose the infallible and flawless Aurora. Everyone has their own story which led them here. They've been hurt, thrown away, rejected, defeated, and most of all, wronged.
As have I.
"My talons are hooks," I answer her. My voice is colder than I used to. "That was enough to damn me. To have everything stolen away. To face a lifetime of malice and injustice. There is nothing good about the Heavens. The whole concept is fucking rotten. Tearing it all down would be nothing short of righteous. Lucien, Kayus, Raiden… The so-called Valorant. They took everything from me. I want to rip out their throats myself. And I want you, Umbra, to rip that lying, callous, coldhearted snake out of the damn sky. Those are my reasons. Whatever evils we must commit to achieve that… They'll all be means to an end. Nothing more to me than that, Umbra. Means to an end."
She remains quiet for a long few seconds. Then she leans forward to curl herself over me, shrouding us both in her rose petal wings as she whispers so quietly only I can possibly hear it.
"Your wings are burned. You must recover. Before anything else. When you do, Crimson…" Her empty stare bores through me. "We will fly together. I will deliver you these three insects you've named. And I will end Aurora's reign of tyranny. This, I solemnly swear to you."
Holding her hands, I nod. "And I will fight with you, no matter what it takes. My claws, my talons, my dorsalblade, and my lightning, all of me is yours to command. I am yours, Umbra. This, I solemnly swear to you."
"Very well. I may utilize your talents–within reason. And always with me near, so that I can protect you. I'm not risking your safety. Is that agreeable?"
"Yes. I'll stay close to you."
"Thank you, little rose. This is a relief to know."
I hesitate, fidgeting with her fingers across my lap. The last few times I asked this, she brushed me off, but those times were shortly after I arrived, while I was fiercely gripped by my grief. The pain of losing my home and my family echoes, and it forever will. But a new conviction has taken a spark from the cinders that caused my downfall.
So I ask her again.
"Umbra. Will you make me Wretched?"
She stirs slightly, sitting up. It's impossible to discern what she's thinking–she shows nothing of it. Still, the fact she hasn't already declined is noteworthy in itself. Instead of answering, she speaks to her advisors.
"We're done. My rose and I are retiring for the night."
With that, she stands, taking me in her arms.
As we exit the audience chamber, I frightfully whimper, "Did I… upset you?"
"No. We must discuss this privately. I won't be doing anything of the sort to you, not unless you understand what it means and how it will affect you. Besides, I was tired of that business anyway. Much better to be alone with you, hm?"
"I couldn't agree more. Well talk about this?"
"Yes. Right away. What do you say to a swim? Or perhaps a soak in the springs…"
"The springs sound divine."
"Hm. I couldn't agree more."
Her wings plume and then we take off.