#arannis

I'm the Witch-Queen. Sovereign of this feeble kind. I am Kura Donnio, even though I had another name, a few years, feeling like centuries ago.

I was named Arannis at that name. Firstborn of the Witch-Queen. And there was a time when I liked this position. I could dominate my sisters while also making sure Mother's position was not threatened by the crones, the bitches.

I was her right-hand woman. She trusted me, with all her heart. She never thought, for a split second, that her own flesh and blood would betray her.

But I did. We did, all together. Her seven daugthers plunged their knives in her body and at this moment, she ceased to be alive. Or so I thought.

We split up, my sisters and I. Going around, naming ourselves after Mother. She was Kura Donio and we were Kura Donnio. But they were imitation. Pale copies of the original.

I was, and I am, the only true Kura Donnio. The Crow Lady herself. The Witch-Queen.

When the Gods started moving again, I understood I had to prepare for the inevitable war against the humans. It would be bloody. It would be awful. For them.

I was just thinking of all this free, easy to get, meat. What a feast it would be !

I called upon the Shabbat, for the first time in years. Mother died during the last, hence why I never dared calling another one. What if the other witches didn't want to come ? My authority would be ruined. Because the power of a Queen is only what the other witches are willing to give. Normally, i would've had to defeat all of them, in a duel, to assert this authority. But even after all those years, it seemed Kura Donnio was a name powerful enough to make them yield.

But they came. They all came to feast upon the dead. They came with smiles, and hunger. All, except my traitorous sisters. They are cowards after all, usurpers of my royal heritage. But I couldn't shake the feeling something was amiss.

Then she came.

The quarter-witch. Not even worthy of being called one of us. More of an elf than a witch, really, with magic so weak, rituals so away from our ways. Preposterous to think she would know about our customs. About the way to become queen. To know about the way to ask for a duel.

But she did.

She came with anger on her face. I am still injured from the bitch's bolt. She shouts about my reign. She threatens me. And if i do not kill her soon, the other witches will turn against me, see me as weak.

I insult her mother. Because only a fool, or a whore, would ever fornicate with an elf.

To have a child, as a witch, is not the same as in other species.

It's about power. It's about use. A child is a tool, just as Mother said. And as the Witch-Queen, I have only one rule. To respect the ways of old. Even if I need to lie, to cheat, to steal, to kill.

When I'm finished, I'll let you live, quarter-witch. I'll let you live so that you witness when I kill your lapdog, this idiotic changeling. I'll force you to see him suffer, and I'll force you to eat his remains.

And then, I'll kill the mother too, this blonde bitch. I'll strangle her, and take her child to eat it. And I'll force you to watch every step.

So that nobody defies me ever again.

So that everybody knows I am Kura Donnio. Not Arannis.

I am strong.

The strong pray on the weak.

"A duel, uh ?"

You're weak.

You're weak.

You're weak.

And I hate you, I hate you all. All your party. All your companions. All of those with this unsefferable smile. Life must have been easy, living without fear of anything, mh ?

But Straj won't save you this time.

I killed him.

Do you really think you can stop m-

Where is my body ?

Oh.

It's here.

I appear to have been decapitated.

...

Tank

Sprout