AuthorSME
patreon
UE Rewrite: B4 — 18. A Sister’s Promise
🕑 Added 2025-01-24 22:53:20 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Camellia (But Our Crimson Flower Is Here!)
2. Jennifer (Our Scarlet Hand Leader in this World!)
--------------
The stagnant air twisted around Camellia as she surged through the cavern’s winding unfamiliar tunnels—her mother’s guiding hand everywhere her senses landed. Below her nest, her mother had created her own. Everyone moved as if in slow motion, every action in her environment tracked.
[2:24 Minutes Remaining]
Her bare feet struck stone, walls, and ceiling with as much force as she could muster, yet she still felt so weak…slow. Each step sent vibrations through the silk threads laced within the earth, feeding her real-time data of the labyrinth she once called home.
The cavern groaned in response to her rapid descent, a spectral echo of the past whispering through the dense fog that clung to the air. Faster. Stronger. Not enough.
Her ruby eyes narrowed as the pulsating presence of Varnak loomed ahead, a sharp contrast to the countless micro-movements she sensed in the webbing that coated the ancient nexus. His hybrid form, a grotesque blend of ri’bot and thélméthra, exuded an eerie sensation against her many hairs.
The drone is trapped. The Empress just awakened. He doesn’t sense me yet? Such a narrow and slow acting nerve system. Inefficient but still adapting. Sister, I’m coming!
Camellia leaped from the ceiling, her crimson hair flaring behind her, anchoring to the walls to propel herself forward like a spear of death. The cavern blurred around her, but her focus remained razor-sharp, every movement calculated, as her mother had taught her.
Her foot touched the first connected thread to the inner nexus, sending a jolt through her entire body. She’s gone? My sister’s gone.
The chemical trail of her youngest sister’s egg burned against her senses, a phantom weight pressing down on her chest. Molten rock, noxious gas, and a draft that pulled upward told her all she needed to know in that split second—Jennifer had escaped on that nalvean’s floating device with her sister.
Mother, I failed you again…
Desperation flickered at the edges of her mind, but she strangled it with cold resolve.
Varnak’s form materialized out of the mist ahead, his silhouette shifting unnaturally, his body wrapped in silk so fine it nearly vanished against the dim light. Vapor whipping past her, Camellia felt emotion she never had in life. Rage.
[Warlord - Domination: In effect]
The green flames surrounding her converted to crimson, matching her trailing silky locks; a flood of power filled her veins at the Empress’ words. Both feet landing, the refined and reinforced stone fractured as she became a blur, her hair swirling in a tight ball around her. Varnak did the same the instant he noticed her.
Impact.
The collision sent a shockwave through the cavern, stone splintering under the force of their combined momentum. Camellia’s limbs locked, her muscles coiling tight like a spring, absorbing the impact as her silk flared outward in controlled bursts.
Her nerve system expanded further, taking into account all elements within the ground, air quality, and slightest vibration. His world narrowed to a single point—her.
He lost the battle of strength.
Despite that, Varnak met her force with an uncanny grace that sent a ripple of unease through her instincts. I’ve only played with my sisters or mother. What should I expect from a ri’bot with our attributes?
His limbs, a grotesque blend of ri’bot agility and thélméthra strength, flexed unnaturally as he skidded backward, anchoring himself to the cavern floor with the invisible strands of her younger sister. She felt the faint, almost imperceptible tremors of his web spreading across the battlefield, a delicate lattice hidden within the dense mist. A mimicry of her youngest sister’s primary craft—former youngest sister’s craft.
Camellia’s lips curled into a snarl. Cheap imitation. Mother would have been insulted by the inefficiency. My sisters would have been indignant at the disgrace.
She sprang forward again, fists lashing out with brutal speed, her hair whipping around her in a crimson blur. Each strike met resistance—Varnak’s stolen abilities adapting, weaving his silk defensively to absorb the force.
Luckily, Domination allowed her to combat any attempt for a hostile takeover of her web network control, and, unfortunately, he’d gained a passive attribute of her mother that made it all but impossible to take command of his.
My, you will be a perfect daughter when you hatch, little sister… Far better than I.
He flowed between her blows with an ease that spoke of rapid evolution, but it lacked the refinement, the predatory grace of her kind.
“I see you rely on brute force and fluid grace,” Varnak mused, his voice a measured rasp as his threads danced, attempting to ensnare her ankles. “Strength with precision that counters even my invisible thread! Yes, this is what I longed for! You’re forcing me to solely—hmm?!”
Me, fluid grace? Are you blind? You gained my middle sister’s cocky mouth, loving to play with her food, without her disciplined skill. I am beyond clumsy compared to my family…but I suppose you do not measure by our standards.
Camellia’s eyes flared with ruby fire. Snapping apart his trap with a flick of her finger and sending an electrical pulse through her own, her weave matched his. Twisting mid-air into a downward kick, she drove him into the stone. His pointed arms around his back managed to cross and block just in time, yet the force still pounded him into the ground, fracturing beneath the force.
“Ugh! Not bad. I’d say I’m at a disadvantage…but you are a real Crawling Shadow, aren’t you?”
He retaliated with a surge of acidic webbing, the air hissing as it cut through her threads—its potency was similar to her middle sister—but she was already moving.
Camellia’s many brains raced, the seismic waves from his impact showing her an image all around her. The chemical traces of her sister’s stolen egg burned in her senses again, the taste of her failure clawing at her resolve.
Her fists tightened.
“You mock my mother’s work,” she spat, launching herself upward to the ceiling, rebounding off it with a seismic crack and pulse of her web to meteor her faster. Her hair spiraled out in hundreds of fine threads, latching onto the unseen strands plain as day to her that Varnak had placed in the shadows. “You traded my sister—perfection—for mediocrity!”
Varnak’s golden eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing. “Mediocrity?!”
The force propelled him through stone and into a chasm below, only Camellia’s silk pulled tight that she’d snaked around him, cutting all his threads excluding the cocoon he’d wrapped himself in. Hair pulling taut, she whipped him back through the earth to launch him up, straight through the ground and into more tunnels above.
He shifted, his form elongating, twisting unnaturally as new limbs sprouted from his back within his protective bubble. The hiss of silk filled the air—thicker, stronger, coated in poison that could melt stone on his path upward. Her silhouette blurred, and in a flash, she was upon him, a whirlwind of motion and kinetic force as she threw him away from Elinor and back into her own territory—to her nest.
A crack in his cocoon.
Camellia barely avoided his strike, flipping backward. She felt the tension in the air, the rising heat from his body, the frantic pulse of his nerves firing in chaotic rhythm. He was adapting—but poorly.
“You’re too slow to match the fluidity of my middle sister,” she huffed, silk threading into the rock to plant her next trap. Not her style, but she could adapt, as well. “You are at the level of a failed drone.”
“Failed drone?” he snarled, acid filming off his slick body to burn into the floor, damaged exoskeleton and legs already healing. “Hah! I’m happy my son was able to die to a real Crawling Shadow and not some undead failure. And I may not understand your hierarchy, and I may be weak, at the moment…but I know in my bones you are beneath me, Sister.”
A quake flared through Camellia like a jolt of lightning, and a soft chuckle left her throat. “Sister?” Flexing her fingers, she let the smallest of smiles grace her lips as she leered at him. “To even suggest my perfect mother would be connected to you in any way is…insulting. Delusion and potential are far from reality. You have the arrogance of my youngest sister without her talent…thief and mutant.”
“Mutant?!” He surged forward. “I am a Supreme—”
Ducking low to evade his lashing, toxic web, she met it with her own, infused with immunity this time to throw him off. They met, thread pulling tight just before she drove her palm into his silk-defended abdomen, designed for piercing.
His internal organs ruptured, black ooze choking out of his mouth.
Fool. You have no idea how to work our craft.
The shockwave sent him careening into the cavern ceiling, his limbs flailing. Without pause, her silk lanced out, wrapping his midsection and dragging him back toward her, spinning him violently before slamming him upward again before he could break free.
Dust and stone collapsed around them as he burst through tunnel after tunnel, her aim precise to take advantage of the pockets of corridors.
Varnak disappeared.
Camellia took a moment to breathe, building pressure within her joints and limbs to recharge; steam puffed out of her lips with each intake and exhale, releasing heat and regulating her senses so as not to cause distortions—something he knew nothing about when fighting at this level. Pockets of air were sucked into her hair, increasing their ability to speed up with electrical and pressure bursts.
The rush of crashing waves echoed around her and water gushed out of the cavity she’d thrown Varnak through. Illuminated crimson silk spiralling in front of her into a point, she bent low, and shot after him, liquid swirling around her as she followed his rise to the same platform she’d killed and devoured his son.
[Minion Break - 2:00 Minutes Remaining]
The draining lake churned past her, the water spiraling into the abyss she had carved. Roaring waves carried past her spiraling silk until she made it into the main chamber—the chamber she’d slaughtered Varnak’s spirit-transferred son.
Below, the Empress was already riding toward the egg chamber to confront Jennifer. Slowly rising out of the drawing tide, she latched a thread onto the platform she’d anchored in her fight against Chief Noklan. This time, things were different.
Enhanced by [Minion Break] and [Domination], she was roughly 65% to her original strength. Yet, there was a wall she couldn’t surpass. It seemed that even with all of these buffs, she couldn’t break into the Epic Grade, where her original body resided.
Water fell off her form as she rose to the platform, buying time, as Ash had originally strategized. Varnak was awaiting her at the place his son had left this world. Unnatural pain clutched at her inner organs. Something visceral that she hadn’t experienced before when in her true form. Guilt. Hate. Anger. A drive to overcome her place in life.
My sister is not there, Empress… I’ve failed her.
“I figured as much… And I wouldn’t say you failed, Camellia.” Elinor’s cold voice burned in her mind, calculating and not as disappointed as she felt it should have been. “You were perfect. I came off too strong. It is my miscalculation in getting Autumn involved. I suspect our hag may have interacted with Jennifer upon looking back. She burned every bridge she had to get away the moment Autumn appeared.”
Mist curled through the air, damp and heavy, clinging to her skin like regret as her hair pulled her out of the surging tide. Her web held the stone stage aloft, an unyielding lattice suspending it over the void.
If I hadn’t taken the time to eat Noklan, I would have been here fast enough to stop them. I was blind to the idea of Mother having a fourth daughter. I…didn’t want to believe the implications. Now, Mother’s last living legacy is lost… I cannot track them on the flying device the nalvean used.
Elinor arrived at the nest, examining the hole and liquid rock far below where she currently faced off against Varnak. “You needn’t worry about that detail, Camellia. I have plenty of clues to find the lizard who took your sister. It may take some time, but your family will be reunited. I swear it.”
Strength bloomed in Camellia’s chest at the promise as she crested the edge. She had to find her mother and sisters. Even if her sisters were annoying in their own endearing, unique ways, one thing she knew for certain. If she had her perfect mother, then everything would be alright.
I look forward to our reunion.
[1:21 Minutes Remaining]
Varnak’s hulking form crouched across from her, his grotesque limbs twitching while standing in front of the place where she’d devoured the Guardian his son had possessed. His many golden eyes gleamed, shifting between red and pure black.
“I can feel what you did to my son… The lingering pulses in your web, threading through him as if I can see his ghost. These senses are…unbelievable. I can feel his incompatibility… His fear and pain.”
He lifted to his full height, many misshapen thélméthra legs flexing with the many invisible silk he’d woven around the area. “I wonder if your empress can survive being consumed? Once I’ve dealt with the two of you, I will make Jennifer pay for what she’s done to my warriors and son.”
Beneath the bravado, she sensed it—uncertainty. He was adapting, but poorly, his mimicry still leagues beneath her family’s perfection. Still, he was now starting to see how inferior he was.
Her ruby eyes narrowed, feeling the sting of loss burrow deeper into her chest upon seeing the lingering essence of the Guardian she’d consumed. The faint chemical traces of her youngest sister’s stolen egg still burned within her senses, the echo of failure not faded but accepted. She clenched her fists.
I hate you.
The thought jolted her. Hate? She never hated before. Frustration, annoyance, disappointment—those were at least somewhat normal for her species. But this…this was raw, seething, human. Her lips curled, tasting the new, unfamiliar bitterness rising within her.
I have to surpass myself.
Varnak’s voice sliced through the tension like a blade. “Feeling something new, Crawling Shadow? Interesting. That pheromone feels…almost foreign to me now. Punishing Jennifer feels more like a statement of…pride?” He flexed his stolen limbs, his smirk taunting. “Fear? Regret? Anger? Things those humans feel. Perhaps being a ri’bot is something I should throw away.”
[1:07 Minutes Remaining]
She didn’t respond. Instead, her body blurred forward, silk snapping taut beneath her as she rocketed across the battlefield. He reacted just in time, twisting his frame unnaturally to evade her, his spinnerets weaving a shimmering web of invisible threads between them.
Too slow. You failed to release heat.
Her crimson hair flared outward, slicing through his defenses with brutal precision, severing his attempt at control. Invisible string pulled him back just before she ripped into his chest, spinning in a circle and positioning herself to wedge each limb that lurched to pierce her. Pulled with his retreat, her hair flared out, meeting the silk that erupted from his pores to drill through her.
Just before it struck, her form liquified into shadow, spreading over him as she took on her true form.
A flicker of panic from him.
He dodged, barely, his many jerking limbs and wild silk control just keeping him alive out of sheer numbers. The frustration crackled in his aura like static, feeding her growing loathing. Black spikes of hardened silk jetted out of the ground to spear her.
She shrunk back to her human form, using her own silk as a barrier for footing while dancing spike to spike to reach him.
So predictable. You mock my family. You mock my sister’s true talent that should eclipse mine. Weak. Pathetic. That I am able to best you, as restricted as I am, makes you an abomination. If I were whole, you wouldn’t be worth my glance.
His limbs lashed out with a desperate swipe, coated in acidic webbing that burned through the stone beneath them. She twisted away effortlessly, her hair snapping in precise arcs to neutralize the new poison that could affect her before it reached her. In the next second, she was absorbing part of it into her web to analyze and neutralize. He was improving, but he lacked the artistry—Mother’s finesse.
“You lack everything that made her perfect,” she spat, her voice sharp and venomous. “You think you’re close? You’re beneath the weakest of us. Even if your power outstrips drones, they’d serve you to me without effort.”
Varnak growled, his frame vibrating with anger. “You talk like you’re so perfect, but I’ve seen your failures.” His eyes gleamed. “I know you feel shame for something regarding your family. I taste it in your sweat and silk!”
Her pulse quickened. With a flick of her wrist, her silk shot out, snaring his limbs before he could react. She yanked him downward, the force sending him clean through the stone and into the lake. Another yank and the thread ripped a line through the rock, carrying him up to slam into the ceiling, where black silk bubbled to cushion him.
Crimson spears exploited the flawed weave to slide through and skewer him from the back—only his internal exoskeleton was cracked from her prelaid trap.
He coughed, body shuddering. Still, he smirked. “I’ll adapt. I’m healing. I am evolving! Every twitch you make, I see. I learn!”
[46 Seconds Remaining]
Camellia stared up at him, strands of crimson hair spiraling in tight, dangerous coils, electricity stimulating and compressed air tightening further. “No,” she whispered, voice laced with newfound venom. “I’m learning. You’re mutating. We’re not the same.”
Before he could move, her silk constricted, locking him in place. For a split second, she saw it—the panic in his nervous system. He thrashed, spinning his remaining limbs with desperation, but it was futile. He had reached his limit.
His golden eyes darted wildly, then suddenly, his body tensed. “I did it.”
Camellia’s vision widened—she felt it.
A single, invisible thread latched around her wrist.
Her senses were bypassed.
His ragged breath turned triumphant, his mouth twisting into a grin as her crimson threads encountered resistance. Obsidian silk was attempting to rip her iron grip apart in that split second. “I got you, Shadow.”
Sister?
A tear formed in Camellia’s eye as she followed the thread to its source, and her stomach lurched. The strand wasn’t his doing but a thread he’d attached to that she hadn’t even noticed and he only attached due to attraction.
It pulsed with a slow, lonely rhythm from a massive network that had dug its way through the stone, little by little—an unmistakable presence.
Her youngest sister’s blood, dormant inside him, attached to one of her threads.
It was moving.
Her sister’s lingering impulses were like a tiny leg, coiled around her, grip tightening.
“No,” she whispered, staring at the thread coiling around her wrist. “You didn’t.”
His smile faltered. “What?”
“She did.”
A ripple ran through the silk, a slow, creeping tendril of violet liquid sliding down the thread, slithering toward her skin. For the first time in over a century, Camellia felt something beyond herself—a touch from her family. Even in the womb, Princess’ had a level of consciousness.
You’ve…been alone for so long, reaching out through my nest, looking for us…and you found my essence. You’re in my nest. Do you…think I’m Mother?
[30 Seconds Remaining]
Varnak’s body jerked violently. The stolen blood inside him—her sister’s stolen blood—was reacting. He convulsed, his limbs spasming as the mutation began to unravel from within.
All Camellia could do was place a hand over the tiny, reaching finger of her sister, caressing the tendril of silk. “I’m sorry you were alone, Little Sister.”
Varnak screamed as his body bloated, the transformation failing. His exoskeleton cracked and split, black ooze spewing from every seam as his insides melted into a writhing, chaotic mass. He howled in agony, thrashing against her web.
“No! I was invincible! I was supposed to—”
Camellia didn’t flinch as the pressure reached critical mass.
And then—
BOOM.
He exploded.
A wet, pulpy eruption of corrupted flesh and shattered silk fragments burst outward, splattering the cavern walls. The blast sent ripples through her threads, but Camellia stood firm, untouched, her crimson web absorbing the shock.
Silence fell.
The mist hung heavy, absorbing the echoes of his final, pitiful scream. All that remained of him was the tainted residue staining the platform, mixing with the draining lake beneath.
Camellia’s breath came slow, controlled. Her ruby eyes lingered on the writhing thread around her wrist, the pulse fading. Her sister’s presence—faint, distant—lingered only for a moment before it dissipated.
Her fists clenched. “We will come for you… You will not be alone for much longer. Your sisters will make sure of it… I will make sure of it.”
Elinor’s voice whispered in the back of her mind, informing her that she was going up the hole Jennifer escaped through and to join her. Camellia exhaled, the weight in her chest pressing harder than before.
Slowly, she turned away from the carnage, her silk gathering what remained of Varnak’s bone and gore to wrap it into a bundle. Perhaps Queen Tiffany can make use of it to find her.
She jumped through the massive hole she’d created, leaving the battlefield behind her.
One thought echoed in her mind as she stepped forward into the darkness, leaving the past behind. Mother, when the Empress does raise you… You will be proud of me.
* — * — *
Sitting cross legged, Jennifer’s fingers drummed against the smooth surface of Jumi’kerune’s hover device. The hum of its runic design vibrated through her bones, fatiguing her legs and forcing her to let it give her a butt massage the entire way out of the ri’bot valley.
The sharp winds outside hardly grazed her skin past the barrier, carrying the brine of the Great Ruby Lakes and the distant scent of burnt earth and salt. Her gaze traced the horizon, where the first rays of dawn peeled back the night, revealing the vast sprawl of the Nalvean Empire’s Everglade City-State.
The rolling Sea Grass Plains spread beneath them, an undulating ocean of gold and green, each shift in the wind sending ripples through the three-foot-tall blades. She’d gotten quite the lecture from the Grand Architect about the empire on their journey, which was far slower than she’d anticipated with the massive egg held below the device.
Here and there, clusters of Cold Wood trees, their orange-hued bark glistening with morning dew, huddled along the rivers that carved through the landscape. The air carried the distant call of grazing herds and the low murmur of a waking city that Jumi’kerune ruled over.
Behind her, the restrained Roxim Chief groaned against his bindings, unconscious now but alive—for now. One of the nalvean assistants sat cross-legged in the back, meticulously preparing some kind of herbal concoction for his master, his movements mechanical, efficient.
The other? Dead weight. Jennifer spared the corpse a glance, the lifeless eyes staring into the dawn, a silent testament to Jumi’kerune’s pragmatism. Even a corpse had use to him.
Ahead, the bustling city of Shanguiska came alive, nestled at the neck of a curved peninsula that jutted into a bay. It was a stark juxtaposition to the estate’s sterile precision beyond it at the end of the landmass.
Ships glided across the bay’s shimmering ruby waters in the early morning light, their hulls heavy with goods destined for Everglade’s flourishing markets. The city streets, winding and chaotic, pulsed with life—merchants setting up stalls, workers hauling crates, the rhythmic pounding of forges coming to life. It was a trade empire, after all.
The Everglade Estate loomed beyond it, a fortress of black stone nestled on the curved peninsula that jutted into the bay. From above, its sheer scale became evident—walls stretching high and unyielding, their obsidian surface absorbing the light rather than reflecting it.
Towers rose like jagged teeth against the sky, and within the inner sanctum, pristine courtyards and meticulously arranged gardens stood in stark contrast to the fortress’s oppressive exterior. Jennifer’s eyes narrowed as she traced the routes of the guards patrolling below—too rigid, too rehearsed.
Puppets… It seems my new partner has a disdain for the possibility of betrayal. I suppose he has an obsession with perfection and control. This whole city and fortress are his plaything, moving in calculated synchronicity to present a perfect picture to his empire and statesman representative… All to leave him to his privacy and experiments.
It’s perfect.
Jennifer’s attention snapped back to the estate. Near the southern edge, nestled among the rocky cliffs, lay a narrow aqueduct system. The faint shimmer of defensive runes betrayed its presence, hidden beneath layers of decorative vines and stonework—a secret entrance, known only to those with the right kind of knowledge.
Her mind worked quickly, analyzing. Entry points. Weaknesses. Timing. The platform was fast, but stealth wasn’t its strength. If Elinor’s forces were going to probe the city, it wouldn’t take them long to discover the water entrance. Yet, according to the architect, a direct approach was suicide…and the aqueduct was even more perilous.
“Jumi’kerune,” Jennifer’s voice cut through the hum of the platform. “Cloaking wards, obvious traps for would-be assassins or spies, and a puppet army within your estate walls is impressive…but how would they hold up against the dead?”
“Ah,” the man chortled, stroking his scaled chin, sharp eyes darting to seemingly random places as if checking if certain pieces were in place or if warning signals had been triggered. “As bold as Empress Elinor is, I believe it will be at least…a month, maybe two before she manages to reach me. And why, my dear fleshy woman, would I need to defend against guests I will welcome in with open arms?”
“…Your funeral,” Jennifer muttered, hands tightening in her lap. “I sincerely hope you achieve what you desire, but I will not hold my breath. Just remember, I do owe you, so if you need help, all you need to do is connect to the Scarlet Hand,” she chuckled, glancing back at the servant she’d branded, her palm imprinted on his chest.
Jumi’kerune smirked at the invitation but didn’t pursue the topic to her disappointment. Typically, Revilla’s promises and whispers were enough to entice followers. Jumi’kerune followed a different type of whisper, though—Shade.
A flicker of movement below caught her eye—soldiers stationed along the Cold Wood orchards, patrolling the shaded groves. They weren’t the usual nalvean troops of the City-State or city that he’d pointed out before. Their posture was off. Rigidity masking something deeper.
You do have your little zombies all over the place, don’t you? Ones you can turn off and on at will. I suppose when you’re away, you want things running like clockwork to be sure everything functions as you intended, wouldn’t—
Her chest tightened as the threads of Revilla’s influence crawled at the edges of her perception. Revilla’s voice slithered through her thoughts, thick with amusement.
“Ah, the little chess piece moves. How delightful. Do you feel them, Jennifer? The threads are already woven. Elinor’s green eyes are already overcasting this nation… It will be hers in the end. Unless…we devour it.”
Jennifer swallowed, forcing the eldritch presence into the background.
And how do you intend I do that without a single ally left in this world besides a lizard who is debating making me a part of his collection? The vision you showed me was grand, but not that grand. No, I suppose answers will come over time… They always do.
Jumi’kerune adjusted the platform’s altitude, the ground drawing closer as they neared the estate’s outer perimeter. Jennifer shifted her stance, eyes flicking to the dead assistant sprawled across the metal deck.
Perhaps I can use this corpse myself… The Scarlet Hand can have…interesting and unexpected effects on various species. What would you do to it, Lady Revilla?
The estate’s black stone walls rose before them, and the scent of smoldering torches mingled with the crisp morning air. Guards flanked the entrance, their eyes scanning the horizon with reptilian precision, unaware of the forces converging upon them.
Jumi’kerune’s voice broke through her thoughts. “We’ll take the aqueduct entrance so I can show you the phenomenal piece of art I’ve crafted three centuries ago. It will bypass the more…visible defenses and older models. I trust you have no objections?”
Jennifer’s smile was cold. “None. I look forward to our mutually beneficial arrangements to come.”
As the platform descended, Jennifer inhaled deeply, the weight of the coming confrontation pressing against her ribs like an iron band. Secrets lay ahead—secrets beneath the Ruby Lakes that she would unearth, and power she would wield. Failure was not an option.
Lady Revilla always provides a way forward… In glory of Her Throne.
----------------
