The Cycle Continues

A fantasy tale of brother and sister. Based on a series of poems.

Felicia glided over hills of gold. The destrier between her thighs barely noticed the hard pace, not a drop of sweat showing on its coal coloured hair. Felicia's cape, a shifting blackness dotted with sparkling jewels, billowed behind the Night Queen. Beneath her dark blue helmet, her eyes were set on the coming horizon. No one else rode with her, and any civilians she came to quickly got out of the way. The Citadel of Day was not far away now.

It was a moment like any other�"bright, but unnaturally so. Every now and then, one of the giant mirrors would sparkle like a miniature sun. Only for a moment though, as Felicia moved swiftly across fields of barley and maize. The clouds moved as she did, and it felt as though she were running on the spot. Finally, as she peaked a rise, the Citadel came into sight. It was a supernova, a great bonfire on the land. Its walls, parapets, buildings and streets were different hues of gold, some genuine, some gilded, some merely paint. It was impressive, and after so long even Felicia’s breath caught in her throat. She reined in Shadow, and waited a moment on the hilltop.

From her elevation, the Night Queen could see a great parade of peasants moving in and out of the city gate, along the road that led to other towns and villages of the state. Their plebeian outfits muddied the beauty of the Citadel. Not as much as her brother had, thought Felicia. It was twenty years since she had left this place, when she had been seventeen years of age. Her childhood memories were of decadence and luxury, but the last two decades had been much harsher than how a Queen should live.

It would all be over soon, she mused. Felicia spat out the dust of travel. It was time to end this.

King Sean, Lord of Light and Guardian of the Sun, sat on his throne. His face was sour, his eyes sunken, his black hair ruffled. Court was in session; trouble was imminent.

“My King, the Dark Resistance comes for us on two fronts,” said his Lord Commander, Rufus. ”From the sea, their galleons sail to encircle our port, though our own navy has set up a cordon. From the East, a vast host marches, having gathered a swell of your own subjects�"subjects that have rebelled, and are thus enemies of the State.”

Sean nodded. “And of my sister?” Rufus swallowed, eyes lowering.

“Nothing as yet. She does not appear to be leading either host. Of course, she would be wise to remain hidden, as she is wont to do.”

It was inevitable that his sister would be here, leading this foolish revolution. Five months ago a sudden outbreak of fighting had sprung up from the Far East. Reports had been hazy at first, but it was quickly realised that the Night Queen had returned. His sister, Felicia. He had barely slept since.

“See to it that when she is found, she is captured alive. It has been far too long since a family reunion.”

Twenty years. Twenty years he had ruled by himself, bringing light and prosperity to the State. There had been no wars, no fighting in all that time. He thought his people content. Light was the only way�"how could they not see this?

“Saul, what of the Citadel? Is there any unrest, any murmurings within our walls?”

Saul was his advisor, and had been advisor to his father, the previous Guardian of the Sun. He was a willowy man, his grey comb over and half-moon spectacles giving him the look of a librarian. He knew as much, but had far more power.

“No, your Brightness, the people of the Citadel remain happy, confident that this uprising will be quashed. Labour and trade continue as normal.”

That was a start. The last thing he needed was trouble from within. If everything continued as normal he was almost satisfied.

“Triple the guard around the Temple of Dreams, it is vital it remains secure. Rufus, send word to our armies and navy�"we march, we go to war. Immediately.”

Rufus and the rest of his court gave a single, deep nod, gave the Sign of the Sun across their brows, and marched out. Saul hesitated to stay, but Sean wanted to be alone for a moment. He shook his head, and Saul fell into the shadows.

Walking to the grand arched window that overlooked the Citadel, Sean took in the Golden City, and the pastures that surrounded it. His sister was coming, bringing Darkness with her. What could she achieve? His forces were mightier, and the prosperity he offered could not be challenged. He grimaced as he watched his subjects. When he had come to power, he had deemed himself the Life Bringer. Since the rebellion, a new title had whispered from the East. Life’s Tyrant. Sean would not tolerate gossip and deceit.

“Where are you, little sister…”

The Ray Inn was the last stop before the Citadel, and Felicia guided Shadow towards the stables. She dismounted, removing her helm as she marched towards the inn. Golden locks fell out from the head piece, free after many days of hard travel. It was almost Sundown, the three hour period the gracious Lord of Light allowed for his servants to sleep. Twice a day, the Mirrors would turn on their axis to allow for darkness. It never became truly dark�"light instead struck from weird angles, highlighting the horizon and dappling the world’s canopy.

It was a gross sunlight, crooked beams striking the peripheral, and sleepers were haunted by memories of things called dreams. Those mysterious visions of Felicia’s rule. She had always been able to dream, that sweet embrace of Night. But the people, they could not, not with such a fractured night.

The Night Queen slipped through the entrance of the inn. Not a soul noticed. She kept to the shadows, not wanting to betray herself, as the people would be on the lookout for strange travellers. Felicia went straight to the innkeeper.
“A room for one, please.”
The innkeeper gave her an cursory glance, hesitant to agree.
“A room for one, at the top, if you please,” she insisted, dropping a small pouch onto the table. The innkeeper’s eyes darted to it, heard the weight. He fumbled for a key and gave her the room number.
On her way to the stairs Felicia realised it had been some time since she had eaten a hot meal. Swivelling on her heel, she made her way to the parlour.
She ordered the daily broth and a mug of Raymead. As she made her way over to a table, Felicia overheard some of her fellow patrons, a group hunched over near the fire.
“Sundown draws near, mates, and I fear the other side brings bad news,” said one, an older man, his red beard nearing the ground.
“What? Bad news? Surely you can’t be serious?” said a younger man, taller than the rest, bronzed and built. “When we stir, news of war will be on everyone’s lips. The Night Queen has returned, they say.”
“Och, and what of it?” said yet a third, a burly woman with a crimson eye patch. “Let me tell you, I fought when she fled, and if it’s half as bloody after this Sundown I’ll never forgive her.”
“Hear, hear,” said the first. “War and battle, you don’t want it, youngling. We’ve never had it bett�"”
“Oh, I doubt that,” the younger one interrupted. “Unlike you, I’m not afraid of Ears. The Night Queen promises balance. I’ve heard the stories�"I long for a True Sleep, a Deep Dream. Curse Solar, I could settle for a Nightmare!”
Felicia had heard enough. This kid, and others hopefully like him, would get his wish sooner than they thought. The corner of her mouth twitched up into a smile, and hung there for the first time in days. She turned and headed for solace, food in hand. It would not do to stay close to these folks.

When Felicia reached her room, she looked out the attic window, and witnessed Sundown. It was a quick process, and all it took was a few movements of the giant mirrors to shift the spread of light. One moment the world was bright and golden, the next an amber haze fell across the land. Not quite enough to get a proper rest, but sufficient to deem the King merciful. Felicia set her eyes and clenched her fist at the thought of her brother.

Wrapping her cloak around herself, she closed her eyes and began to meditate. Soft but steady breathing. She felt herself drifting towards sleep. Focusing on the feelings of her balled up fists, she slipped into a Dream.

Her eyes snapped open. She was in a grey world, of fog and shadows. Little bubbles of activity whirled about her in all directions. She let her legs unfold, her arms float up. It had been some time since she had visited the Nexus, the spiritual side of the Temple of Dreams, and she had to become accustomed to the physics.

This point in the Nexus was mostly empty, or only half-formed. There was very little activity close to her, but she could sense stronger dreams a long way off, near the place of her exile. The unfortunate side-effect of near perpetual sunlight in these regions. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the subconsciousness of all her people.

It was Sundown, and a vast majority of people were sleeping, or trying their best. Very few houses were allowed dark rooms, and at least some fraction of light had to touch all corners of any building. Theirs was a light sleep, a tortured one. Felicia drew herself up, felt the tendrils of many minds, and pulled.

Tiny bubbles and larger ones, all were drawn to her. She gathered them, joined them, made them one. This was potentially dangerous, but she was the Night Queen; the act was her duty and her life, and she would make no mistakes. She felt one particular consciousness sweep by, deeper in sleep than the others. It carried a particular familiarity. She smiled. She would make sure this one slept the deepest.

Sean woke with a start, his bed drenched, his breath harsh. He couldn’t believe it�"he had had a Nightmare. Surely that was not possible, he thought, trying to remember what had happened.

He had been in a market place, in casual attire, mingling with his subjects. No one had recognised him. That should have given him enough concern, but no, there was more to it. He chewed his nails, trying to drag it all out.

He remembered, he remembered that he had tried to buy some fruit, some exotic things, but when he touched them, they dried and shriveled up, wasting away quickly to nothing. Every fruit, no matter what. Then he had grown thirsty, but as the water touched his lips and tongue, it had evaporated. Yes, that had been frightening, truly frightening, but there had been something else. A figure…

A dark figure, someone in shadows, but radiant nonetheless. And this person, they had been drawing everybody. It was a man, no, it had been a woman, atop a podium, calling out, rousing the people. He recalled following the others, his people, and looking at this feminine figure. The sun blinded him, but in a flash, it came back.

His sister.

The Night Queen.

The Night Queen had been in his dream. Sean scrambled out of bed, the image of her pale face so vivid. He gulped. Surely it could not be. He went to call his servants, but precisely then Saul blew the doors open, dismay on his face.

“Your Brightness, you have slept too long. Battle has been met on all fronts. And I do mean all.”

The Lord of Light gazed from the gilded balcony that overlooked the centre of the city, the core of the Citadel of Light. He wore his full armour set, the gold and crimson design catching the light and making him a beacon. At his right side was Saul, given that Rufus had been called to the battle on the Eastern Plains. To his left stood the Arch-Knight, Champion of the Sun, Protector of Fate. Their faces were not welcoming. Sean looked over his people, and they intermittently looked back, but it was not with mutual respect.

There had been riots from the moment Sundown had ended. It was worse than Sean had thought, and he had not been prepared. Saul had told him of the rebellion, marching on the streets. The eyes of his people sagged as usual, but a spark had gone off in them. They had dreamt last night, as he had. The Night Queen had touched them all.

“Have we enough of the Citadel Guard to quell this?” asked Sean.

“Barely my lord, but this is no organised attack,” said Saul. “It will be contained.”

Sean glanced back, a hint of fear.

“Do you think she will strike in the middle of this? It is her doing after all.”

“No, my lord, she knows we are too well-defended. She is relying on three fronts. The Gilded Sea, where she hopes to plough through and up the River Romance; the Eastern Plains, where her forces are numerous but out of their league; and here, where she hopes to sow discontent and a sudden, new army. None of these will work.”

“I do not think that is the whole picture,” said Sean, brow furrowed. “The Temple of Dreams, that is the basis of her power, like the Solar Array is mine. To do this, she has to be close. But without the Temple…I still don’t…how could she…?”

Saul thought about it for a moment. Their entourage tensed ever so slightly, as the discontented voices from below reached their ears. The Guardian of the Sun walked to the edge, placing his hands on the railing. He watched his subjects milling around, shouting in the faces of the guards who bravely protected his halls. There was something not quite right…

“Your Brightness,” said the Arch-Knight. His name was Julius, hand-picked by Sean to be his personal body guard in war and peace. “If you say that your sister gets her power from the Temple of Dreams, then we must protect it at all costs.”

“Don’t be foolish,” scorned Saul. “The Temple is at the top of the Palace, above the throne room. It would be nigh impossible to reach its heights.”

“But our guards,” wavered Sean. “They protect the streets and the entrances. There are other ways into the Palace. And Felicia, curse her name, will not have forgotten those catacombs of yesterday.”

Saul’s eyes widened, his shoulders dropping. Julius shifted his stance, unconsciously preparing for a fight. Sean twirled, marching between the two.

“Guards!” he bellowed. “With me, for the Eternal Light!”

The Temple of Dreams was before Felicia. Locked behind two giant, obsidian doors, gold-painted chains held them shut, but they would not be a hindrance. Felicia had gathered her retinue in the labyrinth below the palace, a small group of men from the Eastlands. Each of them had arrived by their own means. Brave fighters and hunters, they had sworn allegiance to her during the days, months, years of being an outcast. She had learned their fighting style, one of fluid motions, quick movements, and feints from nowhere. It suited her.

As she brought up her sword, Duskbringer, in order to cut through the chains, the sound of armoured footsteps came from behind her. The Temple of Dreams sat stop the castle at the end of one of its many marble walkways. Surrounded by arches, the walk to the Temple offered a splendid view of the kingdom. But Felicia’s eyes were fixed only at the other end, at the top of the stairs that came from below. She motioned to her comrades, ordering two to hide behind pillars, and two more to notch arrows. If her brother had not changed his ways, and she doubted that he had, there would be a fight.

Two of the King’s guard reached the top of the stairs, and seeing the archers, raised luxurious shields. The Arch-Knight followed them, raising his more suitable yet no less glorious shield. Then her brother came into view.

Her brother Sean looked well, healthy even. Felicia felt no anger. They were blood after all. She smiled.

“Hail, brother, Lord of Light, oh Life’s Tyrant as they call you. How do you fair?”

She saw a flash of red on his cheeks, but he recovered quickly.

“Sister, you and your jibes have not changed a bit. How good to see you.” He called out to her. “I do not know precisely what you plan, but it will fail. Look to the sea�"the bale-fires burn the sky. Your fleet is set to the flame, it seems.”

Felicia glanced out to sea, down the length of the Romance. It was true, the horizon glowed unnaturally, and she doubted her small and under-equipped raiding party could have razed the Golden Fleet. Still, that had not been the goal. She spied a small number of black specks entering the mouth of the river. Her mouth twitched.

“True. A minor setback. We may have more luck on the plains. Or perhaps, on the very streets of the Citadel of Day and Night. Or is it just of Day? I forget. Either way, the city is awake to its destinies.”

“Why have you returned?” spat Sean. “What is it that you want?”

“To restore the balance, of course. And since I know a civilised sibling discussion is off the table, I believe I’ll have to fight for that desire.”

“And a fight you shall have. Guards, Protector of Fate, capture my sister and dispose of her companions. Let us be done with this.”

The Arch-Knight nodded, and marched solidly towards the usurpers.

The archers loosed their ammunition, but the arrows merely crashed off armour and shield. As smooth as a shadow they had another ready and fired again. One guard went down, gushing blood from a neck wound, but more were coming up the stairs. Felicia brought out her own bow, and pulled an arrow from her quiver. She had tipped them with Night’s Kiss, a nocturnal flower that opened only at night, the poison of its pollen too fast acting to counter. She aimed at her brother, but took out a hapless guard. She reloaded another, but the guards were almost upon them, including the Arch-Knight. She shifted her aim.

She struck the Protector of Fate on the ankle, and hoped it had pierced. She heard a growl of pain, but there was no time left to think�"it was time to fight. She drew Duskbringer as the Arch-Knight raised a massive crimson broadsword. Her men unsheathed their rapiers as well. Battle was joined.

Round and round the melee swirled, a skirmish in the clouds. Felicia used all her skills, backstabbing clueless adversaries, riposting blows that would have maimed her. Her cloak of stars surrounded her, disorientating foes. But the retinue, those she trusted most, fell one by one. She watched in horror as the Arch-Knight drove his weapon clean through Master Graves. The Knight stumbled, the poison finally having an effect. Night’s Kiss did not hurt, but quickly put you to sleep forever. She stepped in to finish the job.

As she slid Duskbreaker along the Arch-Knight’s throat, she felt a sharp pain in her side. Immediately she spun around, swinging her sword to deflect another strike. Behind her was Sean, the glow of his Dawnbreaker dulled by blood.

“I never wanted to do this, Felicia.” He looked genuine. “But you’ve left me no choice. Coming back was never going to end well.”

Felicia spat phlegm and blood. She looked around. The King’s guards were dead or dying, and only one of her retinue was left, though he was wounded and unable to help. She flicked her eyes back to Sean.

“Brother, I have come here to end this. I have come to end this brutal sacrilege. The Temple of Dreams must be reopened, your Mirrors must be destroyed. Balance must be returned.”

“Never has the land been so prosperous. We work and toil longer, and gain ever greater riches. My armies are the strongest, the biggest. My people are the happiest. Or they were until you showed up. Do you think that crowning yourself queen will lead to something better? Your power resides in the dark, the cold of Night. Nobody wants that.”

The pain in her side was growing�"there wasn’t much left in her. She shifted the hand that clutched her wound, fiddling with a pouch, as her right hand tightened its grip on Duskbringer.

“I have not come to crown myself. I have come to renew the cycle, brother.”

Sean’s eyes widened in realisation as Felicia struck during his moment of shock. He had time to raise Dawnbreaker, but with a lightening fast parry it was knocked to the ground by its twin. Felicia drew the poison coated knife from her belt, and sunk it into her brother’s stomach. He gripped her tightly, and she hugged him back.

“I am so sorry brother, but this must be done. Tomorrow, or whenever dawn should rise in this forsaken land, two babes will be born. Twins, yet different. We were a broken family, but with a new lineage balance will be restored. So it has been, so it will be.”

They looked into each others eyes. Felicia bent her head, and kissed Sean gently on the lips as his breath left him. She let him down to rest on the white stone of his castle.

With the last of her strength Felicia picked up the greatsword of the Arch-Knight and wearily dragged herself to the Temple of Dreams. Raising it high above her head, she brought it down on the chains. She dragged the doors open, feeling the embrace of sleep and hopes and desires sweep over her. She was so tired, she realised, so very tired. It would be good to sleep.