#widow queen

I was there that day. I bade witness to our queen's final actions. I'm not sure I believe the things I saw but.... if you want an account, i've one. It was the 5th month of the siege of Chevray, and 4 months after the assassination of King Broden II. Her ladyship was still in her mourning period, or so we thought. She kept the mourning garb and was rarely seen. Her health was also deteriorating, though her attendants assured us her humors were being properly tended. I remember the day distinctly. The queen strode unto the battlements, despite the protests of her royal guard. I was a mere squire at the time, assisting Sir Goldren, may he rest. Arrows were raining in upon the grand balcony, but her highness flinched not. I dare say, her visage was a masque, like mixture or determination and the deceased. The guard harried to keep her sheltered, for all the good it did. ......Forgive me, if I am to go on, I must ask neither my name nor account be surrendered to the Exorist Bishop. Our queen was a righteous woman, I cannot accept her actions were driven by any other force...... very well. She stepped unto a crenellation of the balcony, and raised one hand. The rain of arrows slowed to a drizzle, the ceased in their entirety. It then felt as if a sirocco had descended upon the castle, such was the heat and ferocity of the winds that began to stir. Yet still her majesty was unphased. She stood, motionless, her hand outstretched and her face still. Then came.... the fires. In an instant, her guards were engulfed in a searing flame, hues like brimstone and ivy. I was struck dumb observing this..... I don't know the words for it. As each knight ceased screaming, a chain of flame of the same coloration spring from her hand, lashing into the entrenched siege. As each knight fell, her majesty's face...... it was changing. Growing brighter, shifting unto a face much like those seen painted in the basement of the Oldanth Chapel...... I cannot tell you how i know of those painting sirrah, this story alone endangers my soul to be told! As I was telling, her face.... it maintained this discompassion, as if her actions were of no note to her majesty's countenance. Once the final knight fell and her final chain sprung unto it's target, she.... She just, pulled. She tugged upon the chains, and was engulfed in a brilliant light. This was when my face was burned to the extent you can see, and when my eyesight was robbed from me. From the noises I heard, I believe myself to be fortunate. The knights that found me questioned me. I told them the same story I am telling thee now, though none believed it. They say no bodies were found, that the sieging army's commanders and the majesty's guard were all missing. All that was found was the melted crown of her majesty still fused to the crenellation upon which I saw her stand. Her attendants had fled the keep before she ended the siege and seemingly fled unto the surrounding wood. I was given a choice of execution or banishment.... given the screams I still hear, I wonder if chose wrongly. Perhaps exile would have been less painful after all.

Vucub is Chimi and Widow Queen’s dad now. No, you cannot change my mind.