The Queen of Ashes

Far beneath our surface world, fallen from mountains once high, there rests a long forgotten kingdom of iron, gemstone, and flame. A kingdom once known for its mineshafts and blacksmiths; a kingdom once known for armies mighty and armaments so expertly tempered. Once the lands paid homage to this most mighty kingdom, but more rightly it was homage paid to the most majestic queen, Cenalia. There were none alive who could even stand shoulder to shoulder with her majesty. She towered above even the largest of men, her shadow forever their permanent residence. Her temper as well was unrivaled when she was riled to her breaking point, but despite her legendary fury she was also a most jovial woman. Her benevolence made her a most beloved queen, while her anger kept her enemies well in check. A fire forever burned in her eyes and soul, and none questioned her vibrant spirit. But despite her legacy, she was still unimpressed. She knew with certainty it could not last, for one day her age would render her weak, and it was years past since she was confirmed barren. With no heir to carry her lineage and no-one to fill even her shadow, she dreaded the passing of each and every year until the day her kingdom would kneel. One day, as she sat in thought upon her throne, she was visited by a most perplexing figure. Its voice was smooth as the finest silk and spoke with unmatched refinement. This mystical being bowed to the queen and then began to speak.

"My dearest queen on high, I've come because I sensed unease in your soul. What could bring such a magnificent ruler to feel so terribly forlorn?"

"I know not who you are," the grand queen answered, "but to notice this you must be sharp. Indeed, I've felt quite unsound of late as I stare into my kingdom's future."

"Your majesty, I can comprehend such sorrows that you face. For who but you could lead so well and keep this land so pure? The harmony the lessers see is only through your might, and truly none could stand to match it short of a god themself."

"Stranger, you speak so knowingly, but what am I to do? I can do naught but ruminate over the end that we all face."

"Oh, but your magnificence, I did not come to simply make you ponder more. No, my dearest queen on high, I have come to make an offer."

None witnessed the scene that occurred in the queen's throne room that day, but rumors flew of the queen's newfound might and complete invigoration. Her subjects witnessed with wonder as the queen's burdens were lifted away and saw her the very next day upon her throne with the energy of her youth. Festivals were held to display her new might, her new energy and her life. And as the years went on and her life would pass on, she grew older no more but was perplexingly lively and stronger than ever, and with each day she only seemed stronger. But when her life should have ended by the hands of time, she in her vigor peered out at her kingdom. And she watched her subjects, her good humor fading, as her kingdom slowly decayed. A strange illness took over the lives in her realm and she watched as they gradually withered; the once shining gems, armaments, and crafts dimmed in hue and vibrance. Her subjects still worshiped her as a god, and though they were dying they would leave her tribute - and as the gifts would be left to her legacy, she could only feel resentment towards them. As her sorrows piled upon her shoulders, she was visited once again by the being. A voice once smooth and refined was now laced with venom, lined with voracity, and so he spoke to the fallen queen.

"My dearest queen on high, I've come because I sensed unease in your soul. Are you not happy with the legacy I gave you?"

"I asked for my legacy to remain," the poor queen answered, "I asked to live forever to preserve my realm, to forever be queen to ensure peace in the lands, that none would ever question the might of the highest."

"Your majesty, do not be fooled by what you see. You are still far stronger than you ever were; your realm is still very much intact; and I must say the legacy you will leave behind is one that will stay unmatched for millennia."

"Devil, you speak nothing but lies. What is a queen without subjects? What legacy can I leave if I have left nothing behind, if all under me does nothing but die?"

"Oh, but your magnificence, I did not come here to simply give you a gift. No, my dearest queen on high, I had come to make you an offer. Eternal life and strength are not cheap. And while all life must die there is always some that feeds upon the rest. Your subjects were so kind to donate their life; your land gave back to you what you put in. A lifetime of work for you was repaid by them giving their lives for you. "As for your kingdom and legacy, why those ought to be clear by now - all that you touch turns ashen and bare, and none share this fate with you. No, you are the sole queen of ashes, my dear - a ruler of a fallen kingdom."

"You abhorrent demon!" she cried in her fury, "You will pay for your treachery! Pay!"

"I do apologize, dear Cenalia, but you have kindly given me so much of your soul that the only decent thing left is to go."

And as the ashen queen raised her sword, surely enough the being departed. She stood alone in her throne room, now decrepit and silent save the soft whistle of the mournful wind. And so the kingdom on high fell, and so did the land's law and order - and so as time passed the kingdom fell to ruin and no trace was found ever again.

But still there are tales of the grandest of queens who once sat upon the highest of thrones, only to fall to her own crushing hubris at the hands of a demon more cunning.

Tales of the queen as she sits on her throne still.

Tales of the queen, who fashioned herself a mask long ago.

A mask that would forever shed tears for her land for her tears had dried long ago.

And there she waits upon her throne, contemplating her revenge.

Though the tears flow down the front of her face, behind it burns nothing but hatred.

Death to the land, death to the demon.

For the Queen of Ashes seeks her legacy once more.