The Eternal Dreams Trilogy (Most Imaginative Setting Winner 2012)

Chapter Six: Moonlight Memories (Part 1)

Kanoa appeared on a set of marble steps in front of an expecting Malise. They stood in a large hallway, the darkness voiding the outskirts of the room, waiting in the wings. The steps led up to a large throne she was sitting in, modeled after the very castle it sat in, white pillars jutting upward, spiralling armrests at her side. He shot a weary look in her direction and turned away, but she cleared her throat, catching his attention. 

“Can we get a light in here?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s so damn dark I can barely think.”

“Everything’s better in the dark darling,” she replied with a devious smile.

He met her gaze with what couldn’t be called a smile, but a disingenuous grin. To Malise’s side, a chrome figure was half hidden within the shadows of the room, a hilt in his hand, something invisible glinting in the dark. His one observable eye was focused directly on Kanoa, a trained aggression in his otherwise noble face, jaw clenched shut. His breathing seemed non-existent.

“What was that little moment back there where you actually,” Malise paused, “saved one of them? That seems like a very odd action for someone who is supposedly on my side.”

“My plan wasn’t to kill any of them,” Kanoa responded, remaining calm despite the apparent accusation. “I was just sending a message. Besides, unless you don’t know, one of us dying would create a pretty big shitstorm for this place. Not to mention the fact that you still haven’t made any progress on infiltrating any of their memories. Are we done here?”

Malise laughed and reached out to pat the man next to her on the shoulder. For a moment, his focal point shifted to her touch, but she retracted her hand before it made contact, and he quickly turned back to Kanoa. “Oh please,” she scoffed, “don’t be absurd. I was never insinuating anything.”

“Didn’t sound that way,” Kanoa said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he stared at the man lurking half beyond sight. There was an opposition in the way their eyes locked, a muted conflict waged on an iris battlefield. Malise was unaware of the situation and continued on.

“Don’t be so paranoid. Also, since when did they inhabit this attitude towards me? I did not sense the usual fear when in my presence. I don’t think I’ll be able to go down there anymore.”

“I guess that’s something you’ll have to work on,” he shrugged, breaking away from his opponent, his eyes becoming introspective. His ponderous expression swung into a transparent smile, one that Malise found a sign of disrespect.

“How dare you mock me,” she snapped, curving a threatening arm outward like a scythe, her sharp fingernail pointed up into Kanoa’s throat. “Look at you all high and mighty. You think what you did back there was impressive? You haven’t seen anything yet darling.”

The smile on his face faded away, but her poised finger lingered for an extra few moments, forcing the words to soak into his mind. She then relaxed her arm and shuffled around in her seat. The man at her right hand clutched onto his hilt, but hadn’t budged otherwise.

“The Inseparable Six,” she huffed. “Ha, more like The Insufferable Six.”

“Tell me why you killed your kingdom,” Kanoa demanded softly, not backing down despite Malise’s current enmity.

Her eyes flared open and her lips pursed tremulously. She stood up from her throne and walked down the steps towards Kanoa, towering over him. He backed up onto the floor of the hallway. The man in shadows took a step forward. “You certainly like treading on thin ice don’t you?”

The floor beneath Kanoa’s feet began to crack as if it were ice, frosty veins splitting out in all directions under his feet. He glanced down for a moment and sighed, more frustrated than anxious. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you or work by your side?”

“How about both,” she replied, a sinister emphasis on the final word that announced her desire for total authority.

Kanoa shook his head, unsatisfied by her answer. He wouldn’t let her rely on her usual manipulation, no matter how hard she attempted intimidation. “How about you stop building this up more than it needs to be and just tell me.”

For a moment, it seemed certain that either Malise would strike out at him or the floor beneath his feet would shatter away or the man half hidden in darkness would interject. However, none of these outcomes came to be and she returned back to her throne. Malise, instead of scorned, appeared impressed by his arrogance. She sat back down to the confusion of the silent observer to her right, but Kanoa seemed in total understanding with the white queen. Their smiles met one another with a wicked unification, a wedding of malevolence. 
 
“Once rebellion starts, how do you stop it?” Malise asked rhetorically, running her hand sensually over the dark orb on her chest. “For me, the answer was putting it out like an overzealous flame. You know the story, you saw how they acted. There can be no peace in a kingdom that values the individual. You can claim that I ‘killed my kingdom,’ but in truth, I saved them from themselves, just as I am saving you from reality. Do you regret the choice you have made with me?”

Kanoa contemplated the question, looking down the bridge of his nose. He mouthed the word ‘regret’ to himself and bit his lip. His next words were melancholy, as if filled with the sorrow of the past and future. “We make so many mistakes that soon enough, life itself is one big regret. I never forget. Always regret.”

Malise didn’t seem to understand his answer, an eyebrow arching in ambiguity. Before she could question his answer, he progressed on with another inquiry. “Do you regret what you did?”

“You’ll find it’s okay to be wrong when you have the most powerful people in the world at your disposal,” she replied, her eyes as hard as her words.

She raised her hand up, beckoning towards the stranger in the shadows. At her request, The General emerged from the darkness, taking his time to walk in front of Kanoa without acknowledging his existence. Kanoa did not feign disinterest, but instead studied the man with great intent. The General was calm, yet had an air of aggression to him, as if he were always ready for a fight, anytime from anyone. Despite his imposing nature, he kneeled at his queen’s feet and bowed his head, obedient.

“You know I would not let you leave my side if it was absolutely necessary or that I was not absolutely sure you would return,” she said to him. “At all costs, please return.”