Seven Trials for a Kingdom

The river ran backwards the day the Queen vanished.

"Look at how easily they fall apart?" The sorceress said with a low laugh. She sat upon her throne with eyes like the sun, draped in red and gold while she gestured with long claw like fingers toward the shimmering orb before her.

Within this large glass dome, scenes of a brilliant kingdom, fearful faces, rioting, and castle guards storming through the streets flickered beneath its surface like nightmares. Only, they weren't nightmares. They were all real and reflected in the eyes of the Queen who stood on the other side of it. Watching.

She could hear their cries, read their lips, and feel the inner turmoil within them as some joined the search, others stole from their neighbors, and many more shook their fists toward the heavens in angry betrayal.

"And all it took was one. Teeny. Tiny. Mishap." The sorceress held up a slender finger, the nail half its length that rose to a pointed tip. Like the talon of a bird of prey. With each word she spoke, the finger ticked back and forth like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.

The Queen, hunched with age, turned her glare to the sorceress. "It isn't a mishap if it's intentional, Cynthia."

Cynthia rolled her eyes, her smile curling downward as she stared back through half-lidded eyes.

"Always a killjoy."

"I fail to see how causing distress to my people could be amusing."

"Perhaps not to you," Cynthia cooed, "but it is for me." She tapped her bottom lip then, a thoughtful look crossing her bronze features as she studied the scenes flickering across her crystal orb. It was at least three times the size of a person's head and sat perched upon a gilded pedestal.

"Hmm...not exciting enough. Why don't we shake things up a bit?"

Fear curled around the Queen's heart like a snake and she felt her lips part as the beginnings of a plea formed on the tip of her tongue. But begging Cynthia would only encourage her, so she bit back the words and pressed her lips together.

"A turn of the tides," she sang, "an upward stream, you might say." Her eyes flickered down to meet the gaze of her former friend, once a powerful sorceress herself, but now a queen to mortals. With a soured look, her hatred for the mortals burned hotter.

The Queen's throat bobbed as she turned her attention back to the crystal orb and watched as a new scene played before her. The river, which brought food to her kingdom and offered travel into the neighboring kingdom, began churning backward. It brought with it, the sea, the salt, and the creatures that dwelled there.

"You told me a long time ago that it was possible to gain the trust of mortals. But I wonder how strong that trust really is when their so-called Queen–a sorceress–disappears and leaves behind a wake of curses upon their land?"

Anger stirred in the Queen's heart at Cynthia's words, but she didn't dare reveal how they affected her. Instead, she relaxed her face and even offered her a small, knowing smile.

"I have been nothing but kind to my people. Those who truly believed in me will see through the lies and those who did not...well, yes, they will surely attempt to cause trouble." She paused. Took a breath. Amusement flashed in her dark silver eyes. "But you underestimate mortals. You always have." Despite its age-worn timbre, her voice resonated with the powerful and unwavering strength of crashing waves.

Cynthia's laughter reverberated through the lofty chamber of her empty throne room. "You have so much confidence in mere humans." Her lips curled with disgust. "So much so you've decided to appear like one of them." She eyed the Queen's wrinkled features, sunken eyes, thin lips, and sagging skin like it was a disease.

"How long do you plan on tormenting my kingdom?" The Queen asked, her face hardening as she resumed a regal and unbothered look.

"Until they fall," Cynthia growled, baring her teeth at her.

"How long?" The Queen repeated.

Pursing her lips, Cynthia leaned back on her throne and tapped a rhythm with her nails against the golden armrest. After some time, a small smile crept up her face.

"I give it three days."

"And if they do not crumble?" The Queen challenged, raising one thin brow. "Will you yield and allow me to return to my kingdom?"

"Oh, Sylvara," Cynthia chuckled darkly, her expression twisting into mock sympathy, "Don't play a fool! You know why I'm doing this, or has your wrinkled skin and weak bones taken your wisdom and memories with it?"

Again, her laughter filled the vast room, but Sylvara didn't so much as flinch nor did she join in on her laughter like she once might have. That was a long time ago.

Seeing her old friend unphased, Cynthia's frustration burned deep in her chest. Her long fingers wrapped around the end of the armrest and she leaned forward and spoke through her teeth.

"Once you have no more reason to govern these mortals, you will come back to me so that we may rule together like we were meant to a thousand years ago!"

Sylvara shook her head. "I do not wish to rule beside you...not anymore."

Cynthia gritted her teeth, but a moment later she relaxed her fingers and leaned back on her throne. Flinging a leg up over the other, she bobbed her foot up and down as she stared down at her in contemplation.

The silence that stretched between them grew taught and was so loud, it made Sylvara's ears ring and her heart sound like a drum in her own head. She wasn't sure what her once beloved friend was thinking, but if there was one thing she knew best about Cynthia, it was her love for torturing those who slighted her. And if she could drag out that person's suffering, she would make it last a lifetime.

"I propose a bargain, Sylvara," Cynthia said in a lighter tone, popping the letter 'p' as she did. A smirk tugged at the corner of her red rose lips. "Suppose some hapless fool of a human decides to step up. Lead the people. Take charge. Whatever you want to call it, I don't care..." she sighed with wave of her hand before narrowing her eyes at Sylvara.

"Then I shall send them seven trials to complete. Whether it be one, five, or five hundred, if even one mortal passes a trial, they may continue to the next trial. If even one mortal passes all seven trials, I will let you return to your kingdom and I will leave you and your kingdom alone indefinitely."

Cynthia fell silent, a slow smile spreading across her face as she tilted her head to one side and pointed a long clawed finger at her, "Should they fail the trials, you will join me and my cause."

Sylvara took this moment to consider this bargain. On the surface, putting mortals through a series of trials to prove their worth to a Sorceress appeared benign. There was no need to worry about whether or not one of her people would take up the sword to fight for her and the kingdom.

But it was the vagueness of the trials that gave Sylvara pause. After all, Cynthia loved watching humans in agony, whether it be emotional, physical, or mental. Not to mention, there was the fairness of these trials to consider. And Cynthia was anything but fair.

Sylvara lowered her chin by a fraction, a grim look shadowing her weathered features. "If that is your wish, but-"

"Excellent!" Cynthia clapped her hands together and leaned back into the throne. "Oh, and in case the trials do happen, you'll be required to watch them." she waved a hand toward the crystal orb which now showed people scattering away from the river's edge as it overflowed with the sea's waters.

"Of what sort? I will not agree to you creating an unfair set of trials that was only set up for them to lose in the end."

Cynthia rolled her eyes, muttering, "You really have gone soft for these weak mortals." But when she saw the fire in Sylvara's eyes and felt the crackle of energy in the air, she smiled.

"While I'd love to duel with you, I haven't the time nor the desire to engage with you." After another long silence, the sorceress sighed with a frown.

"Fine. Have it your way then. No one shall lose body parts, no insanity, or cannibalism, but death is certainly on the table and I can't promise there won't be any trickery. You know how I love to play tricks on their minds and cause chaos between them!"

Her laughter rang out loud and shrill as it echoed off the four stone walls, but Sylvara only felt despair and empathy for those who dared to show strength in the coming days. While a part of her hoped someone would bring the people together during this time of confusion surrounding her disappearance and the river's unnatural state, she couldn't help but wonder if her kingdom would be better off without her.

Perhaps someone would step forward to lead the kingdom on the fourth or seventh day, long after she was to leave with Cynthia.

Perhaps some of them thought her dead.

Perhaps more thought she had abandoned them. After all, as hard as she tried to rule with everyone's best interest in mind, not everyone loved her.

"Oh, and one more thing," Cynthia drew out the words in a low voice, pulling Sylvara from her thoughts, "if no one comes forward by the end of the third day..." As she trailed off, she flashed a wicked smile and produced a vial of greenish-yellow liquid from a hidden pocket. Sylvara's eyes widened and her heart sank.

She knew what that was.

"No...please. At the very least, have mercy on them and end it quickly!" Sylvara's dread sank like a rock in her stomach as she watched Cynthia's face twist with glee at her pleading words. She'd messed up. She'd begged. Sylvara set her lips into a thin line and swayed as her stomach turned.

"We'll need an army if we are to rule together, won't we?"

Sylvara closed her eyes against the images that cropped up inside her mind of her people, both adults and children, dying a slow and agonizing death only to be reborn as the undead. In the end, they would turn to Cynthia, their minds washed of their past lives and only knowing her name. There would be no we. There never was. Not since she saw how much Cynthia's hatred for the mortals consumed her.

Desperation coursed through Sylvara as her kingdom's fate hung by a thread before her. She knew better, but she reached out with her magic anyway in hopes of connecting with someone within her kingdom. But as expected, her magic fizzled out, consumed by whatever magical barrier Cynthia had placed around this area.

Taking in a deep breath, brows lowered over eyes the color of a stormy sea, she met that of her former friend's gaze and clung to the hope that she had for her kingdom. "I will believe in my people–my children."

Cynthia's grin widened, her eyes sparkled, and she rose from her throne in a flurry of red and gold with her arms spread wide.

"Glorious, Sylvara! I can hardly wait for you to see tomorrow's unnatural disorder."

And her laughter rang out once more.