Dusk turned to twilight as the city
burned. Nothing could be done. Despite my best efforts, every dark
word of the old woman's prophecy had come to pass. The blue star had
fallen. The rain had turned to fire. The day had turned to night. The
white king had risen, and created his army. Every marker had come to
pass. Every riddle she spoke was answered, the knots of fate relentless. Fate could not be escaped. And fate said very clearly
that no man could defeat him.
No man could defeat him, she said. The
line echoed back and forth in my mind as I lay beneath the remains of my gollum to shelter myself from the falling embers and
flaming arrows that rained overhead. Was there another line?
Maybe a key to what could defeat him, if not a man? These thoughts
were all I could do to numb myself from the sounds of the common folk
being slaughtered, and the wound bleeding from my chest. My eyes ran
over the corpse of the chimera I hired, her expression still caught
in the surprise she felt when the White King cut her in half. I was
surprised, too. My entire unit was destroyed in seconds. It was like
nothing at all, and then so much death all at once. And the worst
part, he fucking spared me. I took a wound to the chest in the
scuffle, but when it came to landing the finishing blow, he
hesitated, looked closer, and then let out a thundering, victorious
laugh. For he knew the prophecy, too. He knew there was no one else
left to stop him now. It was just me, and I was just a man. He left me to bleed out and went on to claim victory and sit the throne.
And I tried to do just that, give up, bleed out. I almost did, too. But I
could see the palace doors in the distance. They were opened, taunting me, and the
arrogant bastard didn't even place a guard in front. I could just
walk in and show him who can't be defeated by any man. But I
shuttered at the thought. What could I do? The prophecy was prophecy.
Charging him alone would just be a suicide mission. Still, I couldn't
get that laugh out of my head. I felt so humiliated. And it's not
like I had any where to retreat to. If everything was futile, I may
as well stare doom in the face, right? The more I thought about it,
and the longer I listened to the screams of the city folk, the more
clearly I knew what I had to do. The prophecy may have been written,
but the songs had not, and I wanted them to say I tried. So I rose to
my feet, now flooded with newfound bravery, powered by conviction,
desperation, and humiliation. Steps began to come, one in front of
another, as something in me moved. Not deliberately, not like I
desired to be there. But like I was compelled by some unseen current.
Compelled by the lack of other options, by a conviction greater than
self-preservation. I passed through the door.
"Hey!" turns out there was a guard, maybe several. It was all a haze at that point. I don't even remember reaching for my blade, but by the
time I reached the royal chamber, it was dripping blood.
"You," the white king
breathed a sigh of relief when I entered the chamber, as if he
thought something else was killing his guards. "You should have
run for the hills," he chuckled. "You should have hidden in
caves and waited and eon or two, for my reign to end."
"Your reign ends today," I
stepped closer. He lashed out, launching me back with the pulse he emitted from the swipe of
his palm. I slammed against the stone walls of the palace and felt my
hair-tie come undone, my long black hair unfurling on either side
like raven's wings as I kicked myself from the wall and stormed
forward with a twirling slash. He buckled with the blow but when I
came for another strike, he grabbed my sword with a bare hand and
squeezed, indenting his grip into the blade and bending the edge. He
attempted to pull me in but I let go of my sword. As I leapt back, he reached for my arm, ripping at my bracelet and sending the beads flying. I pulled out my
long knife, then tore back into him with one slash and another. He
took a cut to the arm from the first, but on my second swing, he blocked my arm and
grabbed me. This time, I couldn't get away. He proceeded to slam me
against his throne with a grunt. I noticed a trickle of blood from his arm. Did I just make him bleed? He cocked his arm back for a punch, but I kicked him back, then I jumped over the
throne and began looking for a weapon. Blood bubbled up my throat pooled around my lips, mixing with my lipstick.
"Don't you get it?!" He snapped my sword in half out of frustration and chucked the pieces at me. "No man can defeat me! Give up and die
already!"
"That's the funny thing," I
answered. "I always wondered about who I was, why I always wanted to be more than just a man."
I picked up my broken sword and began to circle him.
"Oh please," he laughed menacingly. "You think you're not still just a man because
you don't dress like them? Don't kid yourself. Deep down you know the truth."
"You're right," I responded,
circling closer with every strafe. "I've always known the truth,
deep down. I just let people like you convince me otherwise."
The white king growled, unleashing a
pulse of energy that crumbled the wall behind me. My hair flailed, but this time I took it in stride. I looked at the demolished wall behind me
with perplexity as the palace began to creak and cave. His eyes widened. I stepped closer.
"No!" He shrieked. "It
can't be! You're a man!" I took another step closer, and his anger turned to fear. He began to plea. "Please. Half my kingdom, please. I will give you
half, please. Sir, be reasonable. Sir.”
“It's ma'am,” I corrected, sinking the blade into his heart.
“It's ma'am,” I corrected, sinking the blade into his heart.
