The streets of Hathorsha flooded with mourners as the shocking news passed from person to person.

“The queen is dead! The queen is dead!” newsboys proclaimed. What with the newspapers, word of mouth, and electronic messages, by noon there was not a single person in the cities who hadn’t heard the announcement, and the high government officials had already agreed on the best way to proceed.

Yet some inhabitants of the city remained unaware.

Deep in the forests near the capital, Carter Noelle sat on a log outside the modest cottage she called home, repairing one of her shirts and waiting for her lunch to finish cooking. Trees shifted around her softly, and the smoke from her fire cascaded into the sky before fading.

She was lost in thought. It had been a long day, but as far as she knew it was just like any other day in autumn. She was going to have to start a stockpile soon for when food became scarce in winter, and she also wanted to try out a new ritual that would supposedly keep dangerous beasts away from her home. She’d never been great at magic-related things, but she had to do it. Despite everything, she wanted to avoid pain as much as possible.

It was these thoughts which were harshly interrupted when Carter felt something cold and hard pressed against her head, and heard the click of a firearm’s hammer.  She stopped her stitching immediately, grip on the needle tightening. 

Her assailant spoke from behind her: “You’re Noelle, right?” The voice was quiet, but it carried weight.

Carter didn’t know what the correct response to this riddle was. She took a chance on not saying anything.

Apparently that was the wrong answer. Without another second of hesitation, her attacker pulled the trigger and emptied a bullet straight into Carter’s skull.

It was Carter’s second time dying. A searing pain roared through her brain for a split second, then was replaced with warmth and the dull feeling of her body slamming into the dirt as her consciousness ebbed away. A pool of blood and particulate matter dispersed through the earth around her.

Carter’s attacker stepped forward, eyes not leaving the body, anticipating what would happen next.

The pool of blood stopped spreading suddenly. Instead it traced back over its path, returning to Carter’s head without leaving behind a single molecule in the dirt. As it returned, the bullet was pushed out of her skull, and her wound mended itself as though nothing had occurred.

A moment later, Carter rose from the ground to a kneeling position. She rubbed her arm and turned around to scowl wordlessly at her assailant. She was sore and disoriented, but she clearly remembered the circumstances which had led up to her second death.

“Just confirming you were the right person. The name is Sephia. You’ll have to come with me,” the woman said. She was tan, muscular, and far taller than Carter, maybe 6’2. A scar was engraved into the left side of her jaw.

Carter's lip curled in anger. “I can’t jump up and start running around right after dying, you dumb piece of—”

“Allow me to help you,” Sephia said. She tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear before bending down and guiding one of Carter’s wiry arms around her shoulder.

Sephia then began to half-carry her through the woods. Carter still tried to resist, pulling her arm free and dropping back to the ground. 

Sephia towered over her, eyebrow cocked. Carter leaned forward like she was going to get up, but instead yanked out the hunting knife she kept hidden in her boot. But before she could use it, Sephia dealt her a powerful kick. 

Carter lurched backward and the knife landed in some dead leaves. After not dying in so long, she’d underestimated how much it weakened her and slowed her reflexes. Sephia bent and picked up the knife, thinking about what to say.

 “What do you even want? Where are you taking me?” Carter demanded. 

“The prince requires your presence,” Sephia replied. “Just come quietly, please. I have no problem with killing you over and over again until you cooperate, you know,” she continued in an even tone. 

Carter kept her mouth shut then, allowed herself to be dragged up, and walked along as best as she could. After traversing over a mile, they came to a sleek black motorcar, which Sephia unlocked. Carter crumpled onto her side in the backseat and glared at Sephia as she got in the front. 

While Sephia drove, Carter looked out the window. She jerked to a seating position once she realized how familiar the route they were taking was. Were they going to Cleftis?

“I can’t enter the capital, you know,” she told Sephia.

“Don’t worry, you have permission from the palace.”

The prince thing again? Carter had dismissed it as cruel sarcasm. The prince couldn’t really have called for her. Having rarely left her neck of the woods, and only come near town about once a month to trade for more supplies, she was known to few people, much less the future ruler himself. Nothing worthy of royal attention. She had followed the simple and discreet lifestyle of her immortal ancestors to the letter. Or at least, what she approximated their lifestyle to be.

Nevertheless they passed the border into Cleftis easily, and Carter couldn’t help but marvel at being on the very streets which she had previously only viewed from afar. The buildings were tall and close together, and the streets were paved. Although the sky was darkening, the paved walkways were still crowded with people. They were engaged in restless conversation, and tossed casual glances at the car. 

Night had fallen when Sephia finally stopped the car. However, as part of her immortality, Carter had been blessed with the gift of night-vision, which enabled her to view a sight unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

The royal grounds stretched out before her. There it was— the impossibly huge fortress, right before her eyes. Its gray stone walls and soaring pillars loudly declared the identities of its occupants, as though the huge banner displaying the royal crest wasn’t enough for that.

Stupefied, Carter allowed herself to be guided to the palace’s side entrance, which was apparently where captives were usually taken in the dead of night. Was she actually going inside this place? Her? Surely there was some kind of misunderstanding. 

The guard at the entrance patted her down and found no weapons, but Sephia handed him Carter’s knife. This was confiscated, and they were waved on.

“What the hell! I better get that knife back. It's worth four hundred ferras!” Carter said. Her voice echoed throughout the dark, elegant hallway. Sephia, face illuminated by her flashlight, said nothing.

“Who even are you?” Carter asked.

“Captain of the Knight Battalion in Cleftis and head guard of the royal family,” recited Sephia as they entered a winding staircase. Carter trudged up after her, holding tight to the railing. 

Eventually they reached a landing with a locked door. The guard positioned outside squinted at them a moment before exclaiming, “Ah! Lady Sephia. I almost didn’t recognize you.” 

Carter understood this reaction. The plain black pants and blazer Sephia was wearing didn’t suggest the occupation of a knight. But, now assured, the guard knocked on the door twice and opened it.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Carter stepped into the illuminated space with her guide. There was a chair and small table in front of her, and across the room was a much longer table, which at the moment seated only three people— a man and two women. They all faced Carter and Sephia. The walls were lined with bookcases and paintings, and there were some servants in attendance, standing quietly against the wall at Carter’s left.

Sephia spoke first, from behind her. “Before you meet His Majesty, please speak with Head Advisor Harrison Thornwillow,” she said, gesturing to the man. “The others are Advisor Atrocia, and the royal ambassador, Astrid Faizah.”

Thornwillow was an old man with a kindly look and glasses too small for his face. Carter immediately forgot his name. What was it again? Tinyglasses? Sounded about right. 

Advisor Tinyglasses nodded towards Carter. “Who’s this brat?” he asked. “Did you drag an orphan off the streets again, Lady Sephia?” 

Carter scowled. She kind of was an orphan.

Ambassador Faizah was a surprisingly young woman with cool-toned dark skin and a stack of books in front of her. Her light blue hair and eyes were a little bit of a rarity in Hathorsha. 

“Your Honor,” the ambassador said. “I believe this is Carter Noelle. The immortal we were discussing.”

“Oh I see,” Tinyglasses said, pushing up the glasses in question. “You’re a little scrawny, aren’t you, Miss Noelle? Are you sure you’re up to the task?”

At this, Carter made a strangled noise and slammed a fist on the table in front of her. “Will someone just tell me what I’m doing here already?!”

The room fell silent, and it stayed that way for a long moment. Advisor Atrocia, the third person at the table, coughed. “Well, sit down,” she said.

Carter acquiesced for the moment, taking the seat in front of her, but her insides continued to boil.

“Long story short, the state requests your help for an important mission,” Advisor Atrocia explained.

“Well, escorting me places at gunpoint is one way to make a request.”

From the corners of their eyes, the whole trio glanced at Sephia, who continued staring straight ahead.

“We’re sorry about that,” Advisor Atrocia said. “But in light of what happened, we couldn’t be too careful—”

“What happened?” Carter asked. “I’m telling you guys to stop being so goddamn vague!”

Tinyglasses and Advisor Atrocia looked disapproving; the ambassador seemed a bit shocked. She paused for a moment before replying in a low voice: “You know… Queen Mawara’s unfortunate death.”

Carter’s jaw dropped. 

“The queen… the queen is dead?”

“Yes,” Tinyglasses said. “Passed away in her sleep last night, may her soul be at rest. Or not, I suppose. Yet, how did you not know about this? It was everywhere!”

“Yeah, well, news is hard to come by in the middle of the forest. I don’t get EMs either,” Carter said, referring to the Electronic Messaging system. “What do I have to do with all that?”

Ambassador Faizah held up her hand and looked around the room, eyes narrowed. “There’s a guard positioned at the door?” she asked. Sephia confirmed there was.

“Okay,” she said, and took a deep breath. “Carter Noelle, His Majesty Prince Jacob requests your assistance on the mission to revive his mother.”

Reviving a dead person? Carter had never heard of magic like that before. She stood and opened her mouth to let loose on a deluge of questions, but the ambassador cut her off. 

“Let me explain,” she said with a smile. “I wonder if you know of the Zitaflora. Its existence has been recorded deep in the cavern network up North. His Majesty the Prince believes in its alleged power to bring back the dead, and the advisory council has agreed that it would be the best course of action to retrieve it, and use it to bring the queen back to life.”

Tinyglasses nodded. “Her Excellence gave us an era of peace and advancement— we must revive her if we can.” 

“Yeah, okay, that’s great and all, but why would you call me to go on this important mission?” Carter asked.

“His Majesty requested you specifically,” said the ambassador.

“What?” Carter demanded. That was crazy. She’d never even laid eyes on the guy, and she suspected that she would remember meeting the second most well-known person in Hathorsha.

“You had best speak with him, as a matter of fact,” remarked Tinyglasses. “I suppose you can ask him about his motives. And come to think of it, he’ll surely take you off the mission once he gets a look at you.”

Carter scowled at him. “Shut up, Tinyglasses.”

“Alright, let’s go.” In a flash, Sephia had grabbed her and started dragging her out of the room. An entourage of maids followed close behind.

Once the door closed and the three were alone, Thornwillow took off his spectacles and sniffed. “Tiny glasses?"