Mercy in Spring

by Aetherias Moon

Serafin sat under a tree with pink blossoms in her hair. The sweet air tickled her nose as the sounds of the festival filtered in through the palace doors. A celebration for everyone, all but Serafin, who awaited her fate. Her flower crown hung heavy on her head.

The next queen had been chosen.

She rubbed the soft fibers of the petal until it became warm, almost hot. Her mouth watered for the treats at the fair, but that was not fitting of her station. It never really had been, but she had snuck out of the palace as a young girl and had gotten away with it. Now it was beneath her. Now it was unthinkable. She simply wanted a candy apple. One last delicacy at the end.

The sounds of the festival silenced.

Serafin looked up and found the Queen in her flowing dress, patterned with the very flowers she sat underneath. A relatively simple gown, but the beauty of a queen elevated any garb. That was what she had been taught, what she had lived by.

“Serafin,” the Queen said.

“Hello, little one,” Serafin said.

“Don’t call me that.”

Serafin simply smiled. She remembered the days of the young girl chasing after fish in the pond behind the tree. Diving between the petals to grab at the colorful fish in their little haven. A haven no more, Serafin had always said.

“Why can’t I grab them?” her little one had asked.

“It’s their home,” Serafin had said.

“Their home is in my home.” Her little one scrunched her nose.

“My home is all the land, but that doesn’t mean I can do what I please with the people who live there.”

“What if it’s what’s good for them?”

Serafin had been surprised by the question. She smiled. “I don’t think grabbing the fish is what’s good for them.”

“Hmm, how do you know what’s good for them?”

“You have to think like them, feel like them. That’s what any good queen does.”

The little girl paused before the fish, staring at them intently. “I think I wouldn’t like being grabbed,” she begrudgingly admitted.

Serafin laughed. “I wouldn’t think so.” She patted her little one’s head. “Be a good queen one day.”

“I won’t.” The girl smiled. “I like you too much.”

Serafin wondered what had changed. That playful little girl had become the stern queen before her.

The Queen extended her fingers, and the wind raced towards her, petals swirling through the air and coalescing into a vibrant sword at her side.

Serafin smiled sadly.

“Well, get ready,” the Queen said.

“I’ve lived long enough, little one,” Serafin said.

“The queen I know wouldn’t be such a coward.”

Serafin looked at the puffy boughs of the tree, and her smile broadened.

“I’m no longer queen,” Serafin said. Glancing down at the girl, no, the woman in front of her. Silver hair and soft features which matched Serafin’s own.

“You give it up so easily?”

“What is there to give when it has already been taken?” Serafin said.

The Queen moved side to side uneasily. She clenched the sword and bared her teeth. “Get up.”

Serafin listened finally. She walked forward, her long robes splaying out behind her like a lilac waterfall cascading sideways.

The Queen took a step back. Serafin did not summon her sword. The Queen looked side to side and moved further back as Serafin made her way towards her at a steady pace.

Fear sparked in the Queen’s eyes. It didn’t surprise Serafin after all the things the Queen had seen Serafin do. But The Queen needn’t fear her.

The Queen steeled herself, refusing to retreat anymore.

Serafin smiled. “Much courage.” She stepped within range of the Queen’s blade.

The Queen slashed swiftly with precision.

Serafin beamed. She disappeared into a sea of petals and coalesced in front of the Queen, who let out a small squeak. But she must have known Serafin could get through a simple attack. Her little one had a weakness.

“My Queen,” Serafin said and wrapped her arms around the Queen. “That won’t be enough.”

“Get away from me.” The Queen trembled in Serafin’s arms. “I’ll kill you.”

“Please do,” Serafin said.

“Do you want to die?”

“I simply want you to live.”

The Queen quieted. She moved the blade so she could easily jab it through Serafin’s ribs and into her heart. She didn’t.

“You think this makes it easier?” The Queen sniffled. “You think if you don’t fight that I’ll just be able to do it?”

“I couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to.”

“Unlike all the other queens who tried to dethrone you.”

“You’re different,” Serafin said. The Queen smelled like apples and cinnamon. Serafin wondered if the Queen had ever partaken of the festival. She was so unlike Serafin, but for that, she adored her.

“Why?” The Queen croaked.

“You do not seek power. It seeks you.”

“I’m not so different from all the others you’ve slayed,” the Queen said.

Serafin stiffened as the blade sliced her skin ever so slightly. Blood dripped down her robes. Serafin chuckled to herself. It didn’t matter if the Queen was similar to the others or not. She loved the Queen and not the others.

It had been a good reign.

“I see,” Serafin said.

“So fight.”

Serafin touched the blade, her fingers gripping the metal, before the Queen could pull it away. Crimson droplets splattered the grass. Serafin shoved the sword deeper into her flesh. She held back a groan as the wound opened.

The Queen yanked, and the blade sliced through her hand, leaving a streak of red across the ground.

Serafin cried out.

“No,” the Queen said. “It won’t end this way.”

Self-preservation instincts taking over. Serafin couldn’t help but put pressure on the wound at her side. “How will it end, little one?”

“With two queens.”

Serafin blinked and wondered if she had already lost too much blood.

“That cannot be,” Serafin said.

The Queen smiled wickedly.

“Who can argue with the order of a queen?”

“The other queen,” Serafin said. “And I am.” Serafin summoned her blade out of light and pressed it to her own throat.

The Queen appeared, grabbing the blade with no care for her own safety, and pulled with all her might.

Serafin let go and stepped back, watching as the blood marred the Queen’s beautiful dress.

“Little one,” Serafin chided.

“There will be mercy this spring.”

Standing on the red splotched pink petals, Serafin stared up at the boughs. She knew she had found someone as stubborn as her. But this time, she would let the Queen win. Her reign would last a little longer.