"A Queen’s Game" By Zane Mills VanWicklen
Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels
As the wind blew and dewdrops fell from golden leaves, a sweet song emerged from the thousand-foot high canopy of great kingsbirch sentinels that formed the primordial forest. The melody was broken by a regal voice.
"Do you deny being the wicked enchantress of the north?” it boomed.
Kalla looked up and saw the Woodland Queen sitting upon her throne, hair glittering in the dappled sunlight, streaks of blonde slipping through the waves. Her nose was long and pointed, stopping above her perfectly shaped lips. Mud streaked her cheeks, giving her eyes a maleficent glow.
The tips of her elven ears poking through her tresses gave way just below her crown. A splendid crown it was, however unusual: eight spires of sharpened birchwood protruded, adorned with weeds of various shades of green, clay sculptures of colorful flowers atop. Nightgrass, Villenivy, Beesalve, Naturesthree, Kalla thought as she attempted to recall them all. No matter how many times she was told, they always left her memory.
The Queen’s throne on the other hand was a mere divot in a large boulder. Tendrils of moss coiled around the rock like a snake straddling its prey.
“Answer me!” the Queen yelled.
“I do not deny being the wicked enchantress of the north, my queen,” Kalla said.
“Good. I do not tolerate liars.” The Queen smiled. “I do not tolerate traitors of the wood either.” Her face went stark.
Kalla stifled a giggle.
“Do I sense laughter, or do my ears betray me?” The Woodland Queen glared down from atop her perch.
“No, my queen. It must be the wind swirling around your magnificent locks.”
The Queen smiled. “” Now, we have an interesting dilemma at hand,” she said, her voice hardening. Kalla squirmed, her restraints tightening and knees rubbing against the rough ground. “I can’t have evil sorcerers rummaging through my land accosting my people; however, I could never bring myself to hurt someone so beautiful as you,” the Queen continued.
Despite herself, Kalla blushed.
This is my chance, she thought. She twisted her hands, finding the weeds tied around her wrists.
“Come to me, my child,” beckoned the Queen.
Kalla took her right leg and planted it in front of her, pushing herself up to standing. Her knees were purple with bruises and scrapes. Aryinus will be so mad, she thought. Kalla staggered to the Queen and knelt before her.
“In return for your life, I shall have you pledge yourself to my people and become a citizen of the wood.”
Almost free, Kalla thought as she continued fumbling with her bonds. “Yes, my queen.” Her hands shook as she searched for the knot. Be still or she will notice!
“Good. Repeat after me. I pledge my life to the Woodland Queen…”
“I pledge my life to the Woodland Queen…”
“…and I shall obey her every command, and remain her faithful servant till death take me.”
Death take me? Kalla thought incredulously. She repeated the Queen’s words.
The Queen continued, “And I will never—“
Kalla found a hitch in the tough weeds and pulled it between her thumb and forefinger, releasing her restraints as the blood rushed back to her hands. She stood, proclaiming,
“And I, the wicked enchantress of the north, shall banish your evil reign from the world!” Kalla threw her hands outward, imagining red light projecting from her palms casting a fiery glow across the dim forest, thus vanquishing the queen.
“No!” the Queen cried.
“I win!”
“How dare you!” May exclaimed angrily. “I only reigned as queen for five minutes, and you got twenty last time! If we’re going to continue playing this game together, it has to be fair, Kalla.”
“I apologize, but Aryinus promised to spend midday with me and I would sooner not miss it.”
***
Truth be told, Kalla had been ecstatic at the idea of spending the midday meal with her brother. He was so busy as of late that she scarce saw him at all.
She missed the old days when they used to play Chase and Servant together, but when she asked him a few days ago, he gave her that same spiteful grin and told her that he was grown now and that times had changed. Times have changed. That was his new favorite phrase which Kalla hated. It always seemed to boil up the submerged anger inside of her and make her say unkind words.
“What do you mean ‘times have changed’?” She remembered screaming in his study. “Nothing has changed! You’re still my brother! Why do you pretend I don’t exist?” Only after her bout of anger had she taken in the room around her, books and maps scattered across the dark oak table, Aryinus’s grand companion seats, four on each side, all filled with scoffing old men.
Her outburst had been an embarrassment to the Empire and the Emperor-Himself. She had spent that night without food.
***
As Kalla started to walk away through the thick bramble, she turned and faced May.
"Next time we play, tie more knots. It’s getting too easy.”
She giggled as she ran away. A small rock flew past her arm, stopping inches before the road that led to the castle gates.
Zane Mills VanWicklen is 17 years old. He lives in New York City and attends the High School of Art & Design. Zane’s favorite books are A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin. Other things to know about him – he is a filmmaker who has been showcased at the Museum of the Moving Image in New York City three times; Zane speaks English (native), French (fluent), and Spanish (fluent) and is learning Arabic.
Zane wrote “The Queen’s Game” because he has always been fascinated by fantasy books and decided to try a flash fiction piece to test the waters. When it was finished, this story proved that writing is what he truly loves and he hopes to pursue it in the future.