Nadya was the forgotten child.
She was the child forged after the dynasty had bloomed ever so brilliantly across Beqanna and died in the cold just as suddenly.
It was true that her parents had loved each other in their own, twisted way. But she had not been born when her parents were truly living. For one - her father - she meant this in the literal sense. Her father had met his end against the rocks of the beach after taking the life of two beloved monarchs of the Gates. Magnus and Joelle were much beloved in much of Beqanna; the same could not be said for Trashlip. However, finding his body broken along the shore had broken Nadya's mother in a different sense. The woman, Anaxarete, grew cold, heartless, and learned to worship the shadows that swirled in the dark. That day was the end for both of her parents, really. One to death itself; one doomed to live on without the ability to feel anything. That was the day her mother became more machine than equine. A shadow. A monster, some would say.
Everything changed years later. Circumstances drew her mother from the shadow and magic drew her father back from the dead. He wasn't alive, not really, but it didn't matter. They were drawn together like insects to vibrant light. Nadya's conception was nothing more than an attempt to fuse together something that was already dead, gone, and buried. It was a feeble attempt to fix something far beyond repair. It did not work. After her birth, the world returned to the natural way of things. The dead returned to the grave and the shadows retreated to the darkness.
Nadya was all that remained.
Nadya had been born nearly two decades too late to have a family. She had been born long after her family's legacy had been lost to the cruel hands of time. Now her mother had forged her own dynasty - one fused with monsters and magic with no place for the past. For her.
(Too late, Nadya.)
Is it any wonder that such a child was lost to a world of dreams?
It would make sense that the girl who longed to belong - who longed for nothing more than a family - would be lost to her own dreams. Nadya's dreams were not normal dreams. Perhaps at first - they were the simply fantasies of children. That she had been born when her full-blooded siblings had been born. That she could have stood next to Cronus, her parent's chosen heir, the twins Ossetia and Aurore, and the mind-reading Panzer who was a near clone of her father. She had lost all of her siblings to time. She had lost her opportunity to be known as part of her bloodline to time. She had lost everything she wanted before she had ever been born.
It wasn't vanity that drove her. She didn't want to inherit the Chamber like her parents or her eldest brother. She simply wanted to be able to stand among them. Instead, she was forgotten.
Always forgotten.
It made her feel like her existence was a mistake.
So instead, she dreamt.
As she grew, her dreams grew more vibrant. Eventually, she stopped growing altogether. She began to wonder if there was a possibility that she had inherited some of her mother's abilities because she began to lose grips on what was real and what was not. She pushed the lines and this lines began to blur.
So she bent them, and they bent willfully beneath her guidance. The Chamber of old grew up around her - at least how it looked in her mind. She only had stories to craft the image, for she had not been there. She built herself a grand Army led by her brother Cronus and her sister Ossetia. She had diplomats too, under the change of Panzer, the second son, and Aurore, the only soft-spoken member of the family. Nadya ruled all of them, with both her parents standing as regents. They had all chosen her - the youngest - to carry on the dynasty. Together the family operated as one. Without all of them the system that Nadya had developed would fail. But it was perfect, everything was perfect. Everyone was perfect. There was power. There was respect. There was love. There was strength. Nadya belonged here, she knew it to be true. The pine forests told her so. The crows circling overhead repeated such sentiments.
She had rewritten history and had done it for the better. The Chamber was thriving. Beqanna was thriving. It was all because of her. For the first time in her life, Nadya was happy. For the first time in her life she was a part of something. Her family knew her. They were proud of her. She had something to contribute to their legacy.
There was magic in this incantation of the Chamber. Messages were carried between individuals by crows. Kingdom borders were protected by only the strongest of stags. The grasses were impermeable to frost and snow. The pine forest could not be burned. It was all as it should be, at least in her mind.
Perfection.
Utopia.
If only it were real.
She wasn't sure where the doubt came from. It had been all but extinguished as she built this perfect place - this haven for herself and her family. But the doubt rippled through the Chamber like an invisible shockwave.
It is the beginning of something terrible. The opening bell to a sort of apocalypse that Nadya could have never imagined.
It began with a whisper.
Whispered words between her parents. A fleeting glance from her warrior-sister. A look of concern from her diplomat-brother. The crows had gone. As had the stag-guardians. The river had run dry. The eyes of her people grew hard. She looked to her family for assistance but there was no assistance to be had, only cold shoulders and empty words.
The night came and the sun failed to rise the next morning. The world had been draped in shadow. Her mother's shadow. Fear crawled its way into her heart. Her thoughts ran wild but she knew her thoughts were not safe. Every single thought she had was filtering into the mind of her father, her mother, and her brother.
The forest around her suddenly burst into flames and Nadya staggered back into the center of the kingdom. The forest is littered with glowing eyes. Eerie yellow eyes. Equine eyes. The flames do not harm those hidden in the trees but she can feel the heat against her skin. The ashes that fell from the sky burned the flesh against her back. She knew that she is not immune from this fire like this…this army! It is then that she understands. It is an army.
Her army. The one she and her siblings built. They are not here under her command. The understanding dawns as Cronus and Ossetia stepped from the forest inferno, untouched by the flames. There is no emotion in their eyes. Nadya turned to flee only to find the rest of her family stepping from the treeline opposite, also untouched by the fire. Sweat poured down her body. Ash turned her blue-grey coat a into a sticky ashy black. No one spoke a word, but she can clearly understand what is happening.
She has failed. She has failed her family! It's a coup!
"I'm sorry!" she screamed, over the crackling flames, "I'm sorry I failed you all. I'll leave. I know I wasn't meant to be here." she tried to control her voice, but it broke at the end.
Her family gave no reply, but her mother smiled. It sent a shot of fear through Nadya's heart. The ground rumbled beneath her feet. Nadya whirled to find the army advancing on her - lead by her siblings. She scrambled back a few steps before looking back to find the rest of her family advancing from behind. Frozen in fear, she simply stops and waits to meet her end. All the while the heat around becomes more and more unbearable.
The heat rises. She takes a breath. The hoofbeats thundered in her ears. Another breath.
And then she is falling, knocked off her feet by the unseen wall of horseflesh.
Before she hits the ground, she wakes. Confusion rolls through her. The oppressive heat is not gone. It is worse. She blinked a few times, trying to orient herself.
Reality. This was reality. I'm back…but something is very wrong. Acrid smoke filled her lungs and she coughs violently as she staggered to her feet. Nadya can hardly see but she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A fox, tearing through the underbrush, fleeing the fire. Nadya trusted the creature's eyesight far more than her own. She followed best she can, the smoke seeming to lighten somewhat with each step. She seemed to be climbing, but she did not stop to question her direction. Everything hurt. Her muscles ached. Her lungs burned. Her legs were singed from the heat and the flames, with some spots oozing from where the flames found skin. Yet she lived. It was only then that she stopped to survey the damage below.
Beqanna was an inferno.
She watched, impassively, for a moment. Emptiness - it was all she could feel. Hollow. Vacant. Her eyes reflected the emotion (or lack thereof) as she stared listlessly at the fire as it greedily consumed everything it touched. She was alone again. Back in the world where she had no one but a mother who abandoned her for the company of shadows and monsters. Everything was being washed away by the flames. Cleansed by fire. Then came the wave of sorrow because everything was gone and with it came the realization that she had so little to lose in this world.
Then there was the voice in her head. The timing. The dream. How long had she been playing God in her own world? How long had she been bending the lines of time. Then the horrible realization tore through her like the fires that were tearing through Beqanna below. Had she bent the lines until they had broken causing this destruction? Terror seized her and her breathing began to come in shallow pants. Her eyes grew wide and her pupils grew small.
"Have I done this? she wondered allowed, in a broken whisper.
"Oh god what have I done?"
N A D Y A
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