The Queen's Gambit

Blunder (Evelyn Willow)

There were many peculiar things about Evelyn Willow. She may have been mysterious. She may have been cold and detached. It may even have been that she was simply not the kind of kind, sweet queen that her subjects had hoped for or wanted.

But no, she wasn't always like this. She wasn't always harshly logical, failing to process the more emotional spectrum of decision making. She didn't always watch the bloody wars that her brother brought on. She didn't usually convey her insanely intricate plans to her soldiers, preferring to think of them as dispensable. They were, so there was no harm in pretending otherwise. Emotional attachments were for the weak.

Evelyn Willow hadn't always been jealous. She rarely allowed herself to be caught up in a web of rumours. Perhaps the play on words was a little ironic, because Evelyn never allowed anyone to be better at her inventions than her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the talent, she simply didn't let anyone brag or gloat uselessly. The last woman to do that had made a rather satisfying spider.

Evelyn Willow didn't always go by the name Evelyn Willow. She had gone by the name Athena, when the Greek civilization was in power. But, in an effort to disguise the fact that the Olympians were immortal, her father had decided that new, more modern names were to be chosen. Her name was selected for the cold, imposing stature.

You could call Evelyn cold, harsh, calculating, ruthless... It wouldn't make a difference. You could call her emotionless, or any other word. But you couldn't call her dumb. That was absolutely out of the question. Evelyn Willow may have been all of those things, but there was no denying that she had intellect.

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Evelyn walked quickly through the sparsely populated hallways of Olympus. Her shoes tapped steadily on the marble flooring, never once missing a beat. Evelyn didn't falter, preferring to let the servants stray from their path. She didn't owe them anything, least of all the honour of having her go out of her way for them. Very literally, in a case such as this one.

Her supposed half-brother joined her. It was Apollo, who now went by Jacob Gold. His name wasn't very well thought out, and sounded ridiculous. He could have chosen something with more refinement or sophistication. It was reflective of his true talents, Evelyn supposed, because he had neither.

"Yo, Eve!" Jacob grinned, attempting to engage in a conversation. Evelyn ignored him. Why anybody would call her Eve was beyond her. Nicknames were useless, only meant to remove the so-called difficulty of pronouncing the full name that was intended at birth. " Evie! Are you listening to me?"

"And why should I? I don't have time to waste listening to your useless prattle." Perhaps it was harsh, but Evelyn couldn't care less. She didn't have time to waste, and her IQ would practically diminish, just hearing him talk about insignificant things.

"Lighten up, Evie! You shouldn't be so logical all the time, ya know? It might get you into bad situations."

Her dear brother didn't know what he was talking about. Having a clear head prevented situations from happening, it didn't create them. She didn't respond. Silence was golden, and the privilege of having her opinion was a gift, not an expectation.

She reached the imposing doors that led to the throne room. She turned around, expecting to see Jacob, but he wasn't there. She couldn't care less, if he wanted to ruin his reputation by being late, that would be his own fault.

Grasping a handle, she pulled the door open. Nobody was inside. It felt rather unnatural, given that her aunt, Ember, spent most of her days at the fireplace, living up to her previous title: Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home.

The whole room filled with a thick, swirling smoke. Evelyn kept her eyes open, ignoring the fierce stinging. Blinking was vulnerability, and she was anything but. She was the goddess of war strategy, after all, so her hard earned reputation would not be ruined by merely blinking.

The thrones were obscured, but the smoke cleared in the middle, like the eye of a hurricane. The calm in the storm. Three young girls, barely over the age of ten, appeared. They were joined at the hand, fingers fused into those belonging to their sister.

A sinking feeling in Evelyn's gut penetrated her barriers. These girls weren't who they said they were, she could tell that much. She may have been dubbed the emotionless queen of Olympus, but she was far from that. She simple chose to bury her feelings, because emotions were for the wrak, and ultimately flaws, and flaws are not permitted in any way.

These girls were the Three Fates. One would spin the thread of life, fingers nimbly creating the thread with care. The next would weave it into intricate tapestries, diligently telling stories of heroic achievements and battles fought in vain. The third brought pain and joy, depending on who she harmed with her task, by cutting the thread neatly off the tapestry, the moment it was not needed. And by cutting the thread, it would be you who would die. Just as the thread would eventually fade and fray, so would your legacy.

"Pallas Athena," the first began, her voice strong, despite her small frame. This sister had emerald green eyes, and soft, wispy auburn hair. The sister of Birth.

The second sister, the one connected in the middle, continued. "You have grown cold and disdainful, and no longer deserve to be a goddess." This sister had brown hair, and an unreadable expression. Her eyes were a stormy grey, not unlike Evelyn's. This sibling was the one of life.

"I have not been not been Pallas Athena for a century. My title is Queen Evelyn, and I expect you to address me as such. And furthermore, I am immortal. There is nothing you can do to harm me. Your foolish threats are useless." Evelyn held her chin high, refusing to show the small twinge of fear she felt inside.

"You have done nothing but prove our point. You will have your immortality stripped away from you, and in order to regain it, you must learn those values. Immortality is a gift, and one you have taken for granted for far too long, Pallas Athena," the last one decided, her hair a dull, greasy black. The Fate of Death.

"You cannot do that. You do not possess such a power. Remove yourselves from these premises, this instant!" Her eyes were glowing with anger, the only emotion she allowed, due to the power of inciting fear.

The three sisters closed their eyes simultaneously, and opened them once more. But when they opened it, the whites of their eyes were a dark black, the colour of obsidion. Evelyn would have scoffed at the dramatic display, but they started chanting some ridiculous prophecy. She really started to get worried when they lifted their connected arms and their hands started glowing.

"The banished one must at last

Join forces with the fairy for the task

Venture on Quests to lose mortality

Lest she perish of immorality."

She could feel her magic slipping away, her immortality ripping away from her body, and pain. She could only feel pain. It coursed through her body, stinging lashes and waves of unbearable pain. Her ears felt like they would burst, someone was screaming. After what seemed like an eternity, it left. She felt weak, and differant. Struggling to stand up, she used her throne to prop her up. Her body was sore, something it shouldn't have been.

"What have you done?" Her voice shook, despite her venomous tone of voice, something it never did. Her throne dissipated, much to her horror. She collapsed with the lack of support. For some odd reason, she just wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep.

A wave of bitter realization came over her, as she remembered the most important thing. She had let down her guard, her shields, shown her weaknesses. And that, was absolutely unacceptable. She tried to show as much composure as she could, despite her sprawled out position on the floor.

"What should have been done a long time ago. If you desire immortality, you must earn it. We will not make it easy for you, Pallas Athena."