Fire. So much fire, spreading disaster with every surface it licked. Screams, echoing near and far, as lives were extinguished.
The wounded ruler looked upward from the rubble, to see gleaming silver. Justice swung down onto an imp's head, spewing thick tarry blood in multipe directions.
"Empress!" Artemis shouted, reaching to pull her up.
Empurress accepted the help woozily. She coughed a few times, groaning and clutching her ribs.
He was one of the shortest knights, but Artemis still gave her support. Every step felt like she was walking on jagged glass, but the knight patiently guided her to the doctor's tent.
"Just a few more feet! We can do it!"
She doesn't remember making it there or not.
"Empress?"
The ruler blinked, finding herself in a boardroom.
Not a flame or ash in sight. Everybody looked well. And concerned for her. She swallowed thickly, sweat dotting her brow.
What…was she doing here again?
The air was thick and heated a second ago, but was now crisp, blowing from an open window. One lone wisp of wind tickled her fur. She smelled her garden, flourishing and evolving as always. Empurress' eyes darted back and forth, trying to remember what just happened. However, the gruesome imagery still lingered in her mind.
Should she tell a joke? Too many eyes are on her. Including her husband's. All of them worried.
Doubts must not be sewn. Doubts must not be sewn. Or else chaos takes the reigns.
Should she ask for water? Her throat has never felt so dry. Was she even capable of speaking?
At the drop of a hat, Ganthor spoke a simple excuse, and ushered her out of the room. Even if the window was opened, the room was still claustrophobic.
The ruler blinked again, finding herself in another room. This time, it was theirs, with the lights drawn out low. She was sitting on the bed, and received a cup of ice water.
"Small sips, honey."
The water was really needed after all, as half of it was slowly sipped away. Only then did she hesitantly look into her husband's eyes.
"…did it happen again?"
"W-what do you mean?"
"You had that look again. Like you were having another…episode. Like you had gone off-line."
She wanted to smile. She wanted to show that she was okay. But not even she knew the truth.
"How long was I… like that?"
Ganthor pursed his lips, "A couple minutes. You were talking animatedly about plans for the Prism Festival Ball this year and… you stopped mid-sentence. No trailing off, no seizing, you had an empty doll-like expression."
Empurress certainly felt like a wind-up doll most days. Maybe it was better than having puppet strings binding her wrists. But now she had to rely on multiple things just to get moving again.
"…I'm sorry." she uttered.
"No, honey. No."
Ganthor wanted to hug her tightly against himself, but he knew that suddenly doing that would be overwhelming. Instead, he lightly pat her hand to be reassuring.
"You don't need to apologize."
His voice was so gentle and sweet, she wanted to believe him. How many times had these episodes occured by now? She lost count after a while. Empurress opened her mouth to speak, but all the words she wanted to say just became tangled and matted in her throat.
"Can you talk to me?" He asked next, "Do you know where you are?"
"The empire." She replied dryly. "But nothing's on fire."
"There…is no fire."
There was fire five minutes ago, she wanted to shout. She wanted to gesture to broken buildings that were whole again. She wanted to question Artemis' knighthood status.
But it was all gone. Just like a dream.
Just like disaster never touched the land.
