The Dying of a Princess

A Queen has tried everything to help cure her dying daughter. A message arrives from a doctor who happens to belong to a sorcery coven. The queen is out of options and sends foer this woman.

Introduction: I have been diagnosed with Schizoaffective disorder and aspire to be a writer. I have meticulously constructed an entire universe to accompany this narrative. It is a Fantasy/Sci-Fi tale set in a medieval, steampunk-inspired realm, where a formidable antagonist is conspiring to seize control of the entire nation.

    

If you would like to read more like this, just leave a comment here or @bornmedicated on X. My inspirations are Grant Morrison, Lovecraft, Alan Moore and GRRM.

 

Enjoy.  

 

 

 

 

**The Dying of a Princess**

 

Jolene Hallowstar, Queen of the Ten United, in front of the east drawbridge of the Royal Castle, saw a rider. Their wait was over. After two hours, they finally saw a lone horse coming up the road toward them. It appeared to be a war horse, judging by its speed and the dust that kicked up from its hooves. Behind her, a score of horses from her retinue struggled to keep up, all devoted to ensuring the safety of their Lady.

 

At first, they had no idea how she had contracted the illness. The Royal Magus suspected it happened when they ventured to the slums. They distributed silver coins to the peasants once a moon. The princess by her side, handing out coins with her tiny hand. A day later, the symptoms had begun. Her fingers and toes became grotesquely swollen and distorted.

 

Babies and young children were particularly susceptible to the disease. The people were to bring anyone who exhibited signs of affliction. Being it a swollen finger or toe �" to the Magus Temple for medical attention and isolation.

 

It didn’t take long to identify the infected. Especially, with the reward of a bag of gold for those who could provide information. A boy, the son of a rural laborer, found with an entire foot swollen to the point where he couldn’t walk. The child was now in the Temple being treated. His father, confined in a dark cell beneath the castle. Him being interrogated to determine whether he knew his son had contracted the Troll.

    

 

 

 

 

 

    Over the past moon, the Queen had summoned what seemed like every healer in the land to treat the princess. None had succeeded. Last week, a rare owl arrived at the Royal Magus tower.  News of a well-known Akantha: Elena Darpool. In her letter, she inquired whether the Queen would welcome her to the capital. Promising that there was hope if the Lady could arrive swiftly. The letter instructed that a bird quickly be sent back with a response. Upon receiving the Queen’s letter of acceptance, Lady Elena would depart on the same day. Sending a second bird with further instructions. The Queen was not to question the orders, but to follow them explicitly.

 

The Queen sent the bird right away. Soon a falcon came back from Darpool arrived with clear instructions. The Queen was to build a twenty-foot tent around the Kabba tree next to the forest near the crater. Placing a bed for the princess in the middle of it. Furthermore, a clear space of twenty paces around the tent was required.

 

Though the instructions seemed odd, the Queen was prepared to do anything at this point. She also needed the princess brought to the tent just before Lady Elena’s arrival.

 

When the time came, the Queen ordered the princess to be taken to the tent. A makeshift bed, draped with silk, was prepared, and the princess was carried to the bed. Wrapped in blankets and supported by two poles. The men moved to clear a twenty-paces radius around the giant Kabba tree. A reddish tree with black leaves, as they erected the large tent around it.

 

The Queen surrounded by her knights. All resting their hands on the hilts of their swords when the dust engulfed them. When the rider dismounted with alarming speed, the dust obscured her identity. She briskly announced, “I am Magus and Akantha Lady Elena of House Darpool. There’s no time for courtesies. Take me to the princess at once.”

 

Elena glanced about before adding, “I must begin right away.”

 

The Queen, bewildered but earnest, replied, “This way, my Lady.” She gestured for her knights to escort Lady Elena.

 

“We are terrified, my Lady. If you can do anything for her, I can make you the richest �"”

 

Lady Elena interrupted, “No, no, no. I am not here for that. I am here for the princess’ life and a vow I took at the temple. It would be dangerous for me to think of anything else. We have no time; I need to see her now. Forgive me for being urgent my Queen.”

 

The Queen offered a small smile and nodded in understanding. They hurried toward the tent. Lady Elena nearly racing. A satchel filled with small bottles and scrolls bouncing at her side. The Queen fervently hoped something within those containers would save her child from a life of suffering.

 

Upon reaching the entrance, Lady Elena turned to address the knights. “I need all of you to promise that regardless of what you hear from within this tent, you will never enter! If anyone dares to cross that threshold, not only will the princess perish, but I will as well!”

 

“What will you do?” asked the Queen, her voice laced with concern.

 

“I will administer potions and medicines that she may react to during treatment. Only I can be present when the reaction occurs.”

 

“Why you?” inquired a knight beside the Queen.

 

“Because I am an Akantha and one of the most skilled Magus in the world.” With that, she pushed open the many flaps of the tent’s entrance and hammered the door shut.

 

Queerly, about half an hour later, the knights began to hear sounds indicating approaching hooves. Some murmured that a fleet of horses was racing toward them. Several soldiers drew their steel. The Queen braced herself. The feeling of a warm gust of wind as the clatter intensified. Drawing nearer as if the herd was going through them, and heading to the tent.

 

Not a few heartbeats later, the sound of crashing waves filled the air. A rush of water �" though they were leagues away from the sea. Then came a chilling screech, akin to a scream coming from underwater. At that moment, the princess began to wail. The Queen darted toward the tent entrance, but her knights restrained her. As were their orders, subduing her from passing the clearing.

 

Regaining some composure, the Queen said, “Thank you for stopping me, my Knights. Yes, I trust whatever she is doing in there. I must, at this point.”

 

Then it began again. A luminous light radiated from the tent, accompanied by the sounds of galloping horses and crashing waves. Lady Elena could be heard, half-screaming, half-singing in a tongue neither the knights nor the Queen recognized.

 

Next, the noises of horses and the ocean faded, but the light remained while both the princess and Lady Elena began to sing, their melody in a language unfamiliar to everyone outside the tent. The song lingered for a moment before stopping abruptly. The princess knew no other languages.

 

After moments of singing while the tent was illuminated, a heavy silence fell for several heartbeats. Voices began to emerge from the tent. The knights gasped as they heard the thick hides of the entrance being unlatched. Lady Elena burst through.

 

“I must take her to a room I can seal, but only until tomorrow morning when I can perform tests to determine our fates,” Lady Darpool stated with a sly smile, bowing low. “May I be directed to these quarters? We are both exhausted, and it is imperative we rest. Also, burn the tent from the outside.”

 

“Yes, my Lady,” a knight replied, stepping forward. Lady Darpool declared she would be sleeping in the princess’s room that night and would conduct tests in the morning to assess whether her method had worked.

 

The Queen followed each order, her desperation for her child fueling her compliance. Unable to sleep, she set up a small bed outside the door to the princess’s room. Elena promised to awaken as early as possible.

 

That night stretched interminably for Queen Jolene Hallowstar. Lying awake, she gazed at the ceiling, observing her guards standing vigil outside.

 

What a boring job,” she mused, smiling. He’s merely standing there all night while we sleep. Yet, for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within her. Lady Darpool seemed like a woman who knew what she was doing.

 

As dawn broke and light filtered through the windows, anxiety churned in her stomach. Nausea washed over her as she heard noises from the sealed room. She rapped on the door. “Hello?!”

 

For a moment, silence lingered, but then Lady Darpool’s voice emerged, “This won’t take but a few moments, my Queen.” Please be patient.” With her head resting against the door, the Queen closed her eyes and prayed to the goddess of healing and children, reciting old prayers her great-grandmother had once sung.

 

Suddenly, the door burst open. Lady Darpool emerged, wiping her hands on a towel.

 

“My Queen, all is well with the princess.”

 

Half the court materialized outside the room, erupting with excitement. King Slade, who had also been awake all night, stumbled in, flushed and slightly inebriated, flanked by his Royal Guard and a few of his companions who had awaited the night’s developments.

 

“Forgive me, my love,” the King gasped, clearly having rushed home after hearing of Lady Darpool’s arrival. He recognized the gravity of the situation. It was not merely any Magus, but one who was also an Akantha �" rare beings skilled in the weaving of spells alongside their healing arts. This urgency had compelled him to ride through the night to ensure his daughter’s safety.

 

Lady Elena stood beside the bed. “I have conducted three tests; all have returned negative. However, as a precaution, for the next week, she should remain in this room with as few visitors as possible.” She beamed at the Queen. “Of course, you may stay by her side, but aside from you and our King, I recommend only your Magus conduct further tests. You can oversee everything to ensure I am being truthful. Do you have quarters for myself and my party? We can stay here for the next week for thorough confirmation.”

 

Unable to hold back, the Queen enveloped Lady Elena in her arms, thanking her repeatedly, tears glistening in her eyes. King Slade joined, wrapping his arms around both of them to share in their joy.

 

Regaining her composure, the Queen released Elena and said, “Of course. Please, follow these women; they will show you to your rooms.”

 

Elena and her knights bowed and followed without delay, looking weary and worn. Queen Jolene’s thoughts spiraled from the events of the previous days, and she drifted to sleep beside the princess just moments after lying down.

 

The following morning, the Queen’s servants approached at Lady Elena’s request, inquiring if she would join them to break our fast. The Queen nodded, her excitement palpable as she began to dress. She chose a red dress with gold trim �" fitted at the waist with sweeping sleeves. A white veil adorned her head, topped with a delicate tiara, and she slipped on gilded slippers.

 

The Queen, attended by her two handmaidens and one of her Royal Guards, entered the guest dining hall, where Lady Elena and her entourage sat conversing quietly. Upon noticing the Queen, they rose, with Elena taking the lead.

 

“My Queen,” Elena expressed, approaching and kneeling before Jolene. When she rose, she continued, “I am Lady Elena of Family Darpool, my Grace, and this is my guard.” We are yours to obey. I sincerely apologize for the hasty introduction yesterday; we were pressed for time. I beg for your forgiveness.”

 

The Queen regarded the Akantha for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears before she pulled Elena into a tight embrace. “No, my friend,” she said, smiling through her emotion. “Smoke and Glass is yours,” Jolene declared, bowing alongside her guards before Elena and her party.

 

Lady Elena smiled, taken aback by the Queen’s unexpected praise. “Come, we have mead you could nearly chew and fresh capon, just prepared this morning. I would be delighted if you would enjoy a horn of ale with me.” The Queen found herself appreciating such a familiarity; it felt as if she were with someone she had known for a lifetime.

 

“Nothing would make me happier,” Jolene replied, placing her hands on Lady Elena’s shoulders.

 

They both took their seats. The Queen relished this moment �" sitting with newfound allies, sitting with the knights on the benches and enjoying mead for breakfast �" her heart swelling with joy. Her princess would live, all thanks to Lady Elena and her brave knights.

 

Raising a horn of ale, the Queen proclaimed, “To my new friends, Family Darpool of Castle Seabattle." You are always welcome here as our guests. We will forever remember your actions here today, even if I don’t fully comprehend how you accomplished it. Perhaps one day, after a few cups, my Lady will share the details.” Laughter erupted around the table, echoing with relief and joy.

 

 

    The atmosphere was warm and vibrant, filled with genuine laughter and the clinking of cups. Joy fluttered in the hearts of everyone present, soothing the remnants of anxiety that had plagued them just days before. The Queen, for the first time in weeks, felt a lightness as if the burdens of worry had finally began to lift.

 

    As the meal progressed, Lady Elena shared stories of her travels, the villages she had visited, and the patients she had treated. She spoke of strange creatures and odd encounters, tales of bravery that sparked the imaginations of everyone at the table.

 

    “Once, I came across a tribe that spoke to the winds,” Elena recounted, her eyes sparkling with the memory. “They believed that every gust carried whispers from their ancestors. It’s a beautiful belief, one that reminds us that we are never truly alone.”

 

    The guests listened intently, lost in her words, as the once somber atmosphere transformed into one of camaraderie. King Slade, leaning back with a smile, clutched his drink. “I think I could do with a little more of those ancestral whispers myself. What do they say about rulers in search of worthy allies?”

 

    Elena laughed, her laughter like music. “They would tell tales of courage and unity, my King. But I suppose it is up to us to forge our own legends.”

After breakfast, the Queen turned to Lady Elena, her face serious. “Now that we've celebrated, I’d like to know what lies ahead for my daughter. What should we expect in the coming days?”

    

    Elena nodded, her expression shifting to one of concentration. “In the next week, I will perform a series of tests to monitor her recovery closely. Healing is a process, and even though the immediate danger has passed, we must remain vigilant. Each day will be crucial.”**

 

    The Queen knew this, yet the slight quiver in Elena’s voice reminded her of how fragile hope could be. **“And should any symptoms re-emerge?”**

 

    “Then we will act swiftly,”** Lady Elena replied, **“but I hold faith in her resilience. This child has survived the darkness of the Troll; she has a warrior’s spirit.”**

 

    With a heavy heart yet wrapped in shadows of hope, the Queen nodded. She felt a deep gratitude toward this mysterious woman who had invested so much of herself into saving her child.

 

    As the days rolled by, echoing through the halls of the castle, Lady Elena dedicated herself to the princess. Each morning, she conducted tests and followed rituals passed down through her lineage. Throughout this time, the bond between Lady Darpool and Queen Jolene blossomed into a steadfast friendship.

After a week of testing and close monitoring, Lady Elena called for the court. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone gathered, seeking reassurance. The Queen held her breath, her heart racing just as it had before the princess’s treatment began.

 

    Lady Elena stood before them, her demeanor composed but her eyes alive with energy. “I have conducted extensive examinations, and I am pleased to announce that the young

    

    Princess is recovering well. There are no signs of the illness returning, and I believe she is now free from its grip.”

A wave of relief swept through the gathered crowd, followed by a joyous uproar. The Queen, overwhelmed with gratitude and love, rushed forward to embrace her daughter, lifting Angelyna high into the air.

 

    “You are strong, my love,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve brought us back from the brink of despair.”

 

    Elena watched, smiling softly. This was the power of hope�"the ability to heal not just the body but the spirit. It radiated from the vibrant warmth of the Queen and her daughter, a connection forged in adversity.

 

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, castings shadows long across the grand hall, the Queen arranged for a feast to honor Lady Elena and her knights. They would celebrate not only the Princess’s recovery but also the newfound alliance between their kingdoms.

 

    The table was adorned with the finest dishes and the richest wines. Laughter and stories filled the air, echoing against the castle walls as joyous faces glowed in the candlelight.

 

    As the evening progressed, Queen Jolene stood to propose a toast. “To friendship and fortitude! To the bonds we have forged, which even darkness could not sever! You, Lady Elena, are more than a healer; you are a beacon of hope.”

 

    

    “To Lady Elena!” the court roared in unison, raising their cups high.

 

    Elena smiled, humbled. “And to all of you�"for without your unwavering support and love for your princess, none of this would have been possible. Together we are stronger.”

 

    As the night unfolded, laughter intertwined with songs of celebration, and for the first time in ages, Queen Jolene could envision a bright future for her family and kingdom�"a future that thrived on hope, friendship, and love.

 

    As the candles flickered low and the stars began to dot the night sky, the Queen knew that with allies like Lady Elena by her side, there was nothing they could not overcome. They would guard their children and their lands closely, ready to face whatever challenges may come, for they were no longer just separate houses but families united by their trials and triumphs.

 

    And so, the legacy of their bond began�"woven together like the threads of a tapestry, colorful and rich, a story that would be passed down through generations in the land of the Ten United.