ACT II - Prince of Sorrows

Chapter 1: Born of the White

Queens of the Crystalized are beloved rulers of the lands or so the folk say. Queen Iselda was the rightful heir to the throne, as her mother’s soul had vanished from the walls without any explanation to the public. Her long, dark, unruly curls matched every detail of her skin, just like her mother. Her father, though, was little more than a shadow behind the powerful Queen. Such was foreseeable in a woman-dominant Tunnel like Crystalized. Compared to the other Tunnels, this one held fewer people and a weaker, fluctuating economy, the travelers said. Then again, not all travelers ever returned home, for the Tunnels were merciless in their payback.

Even with these situations at bay, Queen Iselda claimed the throne as her own. The very first rule she proclaimed was: “No prior crystal power users are allowed to live in our Tunnel.” She was determined to go after every prior crystal power user and hunt them down as if they were pigs, not humans. As it seemed cruel to some residents, most found this new rule thrilling and refreshing. Because prior crystal power users were immensely powerful and physically stronger than most fellow power users; they posed a threat to everyone else.

But on the other side, those very users began to lose faith, despair claimed them. They could not overturn the Queen’s rule, nor could they escape the Tunnel’s grasp. And so, they withdrew, shrinking into the dark corners of Crystalized like hunted mice… condemned to eternity.

Queen Iselda was pleased enough that her decree satisfied the majority. She charmed her way to the top, deceiving many into believing she was indeed a worthy Queen. Time passed. One day, wandering along the high shadows of the walls, Queen Iselda came across an alluring farmer girl. Her face was a little plump, cheeks flushed with exhaustion, her auburn hair tied in a messy bun…

It was love at first sight for Queen Iselda, at least.

After that little day, the Queen waited on the edge, eager to prowl the Tunnel walls in hopes of seeing the farmer girl once more. Nearly half a year passed before the lovely farmer girl even noticed her, but that small glimmer of attention was enough to keep the Queen steady. 

When their eyes first met, Iselda was no Queen. She was a young maiden, yearning for her first love to look back at her. To see her not as royalty, but as someone human. Someone to be desired, cared for, and loved. Oh, how perfect it would be, for once, to have everything at once.

The farmer girl looked at Iselda and chuckled. “You got something to say, my lady?”

Her voice… smooth, like, she didn’t know. Has Iselda ever heard anything like it? She had always played in palace grounds or ballrooms, only ever speaking with servants and her mother’s employees. Never like this.

Iselda cleared her throat lightly, pointing to flowers she had never seen. “I was just passing through your field, madam. Your crops look rather different from the others, do they not?”

The girl glanced at the blossoms, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, you mean the White-Morning Glory, my lady. They… were gifted by someone dear to me. Looks pretty nice, doesn’t it?”

At the words of someone dear, Iselda’s expression faltered. “So, they are from your… your lover, I presume. What a lovely gift indeed. I am obliged to leave now, to your pretty land, madam. Have a nice day.”

As Iselda turned to leave, the lovely farmer girl plucked one of the flowers and extended it to her. “Here. Hope this brings purity of mind to you, my lady. Have a nice day.”

The Queen looked at the girl with auburn hair and a charming smile, and accepted the gift with a simple nod, though her hand brushed against the girl’s, a fleeting spark, like in the romance novels she used to read.

“Please consider visiting my lands again, my lady.” the graceful farmer girl called behind her. “I’d like to talk more.”

Queen Iselda didn’t even turn back to respond. Just an elegant hand gesture showed that yes, indeed, she would return.

When the Queen returned to her palace, she sank into her too-comfortable bed, every detail of their meeting replaying in her mind. A strange giddiness lingered in her chest as she placed the flower, its name already forgotten, into a ruby-crafted vase. She lingered on it, staring, until her eyelids grew unbearably heavy. The threads of sleep pulled her down, and for the first time, Queen Iselda felt eager for the morning to come.

But there was no morning, no light in the sky, no sky at all, just the Tunnel above. Then how could a flower this white, this impossibly beautiful, bloom here?