Everything is dark, as if the devil of the night had painted the aura black by dipping his fingers in a pool of coals. Squeezed them until each rock of coal dripped its blood to enclose me within the fold of dark. It is suffocating now as my breath seems to turn sour and finds no way to make it out of my chest, which is filled with an empty vacuum and too many breaths at the same time.
I want to breath, I hold my mouth open but it feels like there is nothing rushing in and nothing going out. I want to feel how it feels like breathing again instead of feeling like raw sand has been stuffed into my mouth. Jitters are jumping all over my veins now, and all the nervousness is now unfolding, I want to be able to see through the darkness; to hear something, anything but there is nothing; absolute darkness of the soul, of the mind, and a departure of all my senses.
As I am becoming more and more alert of my situation, it is becoming difficult to hold steady but my body wouldn’t follow my commands at all. Not as much as my eyebrow twitches in this vacuum when I suddenly feel that the ground underneath me is shaking. Although I do not feel any cold floor beneath my feet, I only feel like I am suspended from some place.
The tremors grow stronger and within a fraction of a second, air rushes in my lungs as a powerful gust, knocking my senses in place. I realize I was trapped in a dream, another vile dream. Dreams, that have grown to become frequent after the arrival of that letter.
The earth is trembling again, shaking under the commands of the seven sisters. In a span of seven days, seven different things have happened. Day one saw the fall of the northern territories, day two showed the mountains shivering all day until they broke and the boulders leaked into my land. Day three witnessed the sea in the south become steaming hot, all the residents of that area either burnt themselves with the sudden rise in the temperatures or fell accidentally into the sea, tripping or slipping; some waves also engulfed small children. Day four turned the main tributary of the River Mirange turn red. Its pristine waters that used to reflect the sun’s shine now reflected the fate of my empire.
Day five destroyed my mighty army with a sudden fever overtaking all the soldiers, all the young men in the kingdom also appeared dull with dark circles around them. Day six turned ripe fruits and the land rust brown.
And somewhere in those days, my husband, the king, disappeared. His bedchambers were found empty. Knowing his fate, he had isolated himself, compromised with his destiny. When he went missing is not known but on day three a black envelope set on my windowpane; I knew then that reality had arrived in all its might. It was a wild goose chase to try and send a force after him. Because obviously, he belonged to the witches now. The black dress of the envelope has penetrated my thoughts badly though and I stand cloaked in the dark every night and sometimes in the day.
Today is day seven as I stand, defeated with a deflated spirit of a queen who has failed to deliver anything to her expectant people. No protection, no safety because sometimes fate cannot be undone. It is written and there is no unwriting it. The earth shakes violently and I know what’s to come next. Not all queens win and I am one of the fallen ones.
