Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My father is a Feeder. They call us the Avem. My father told me very early on that I absolutely must not tell anyone what we are, as due to the nature of the work society shuns us no matter how essential our jobs are. Keeping our ever-watching God happy is not an honourable job. These rumours and superstitions kept my childhood in a chokehold.
We are Avem but I am the Magpie.
Magpies only bring the prettiest jewellery back to its nest. It stalks the earth for jewel-toned shinies to admire and show to its loved ones. The magpie is a materialistic and vicious bird. It attacks when it's unhappy, when it's displeased. But it is a smart bird, if not vain. It can recognize itself in a mirror, just like a human. The magpie is like me.
I bring the finest trinkets to my loved ones and I'm wildly defensive when someone comes close. I brandish only my finest knives to scare off my opponents. I bare my bejewelled teeth when I growl and hiss. I am The Magpie.
My role is to continue Fathers work. His path was his mother’s, who was her mother’s, who was her father’s and onward. The legacy passes through houses like an unobtainable heirloom, a burden on us all.
The rain thumps against the window forming clear jewel droplets. I wish I could collect and preserve every raindrop I see. Beautiful jewels in my hands are forever for me to give to my friends. Everyone tells me the dark stormy clouds that accompany rain are like my eyes. If only I could cry jewels the way the clouds do; I would cry more if it was that beneficial to me.
The pavement is always cooler after the rain. The sidewalk is laced with the thick smell of concrete kissed by showers. Warm smelling, wet tasting.
I decided to take a longer path home today. It takes me through the forest. The cicadas hum as the sun floats above me shrouded in grey clouds. It is a regular afternoon.
When I look up I see the looming castle- Arce Corvorum. Its black building blocks the sun after noon, shrouding us in more gloom than it already caused. I stick my tongue out at it.
My walk shouldn't take more than 10 minutes, but I stall just to kick rocks. I like the way they skip and bounce off the others. Sometimes they chip if you kick hard enough. They remind me of my friend’s teeth.
One chipped tooth right beside his two front teeth. His canines dip down like a carnivore. It suits him. It suits his name; Fennec.
Diagonal from his chipped tooth is a mole. It's noticeable. I like to count them when he talks. I count the syllables in the words he says. I pretend I’m listening.
The leaves of the bushes sway in the wind. A gentle “shh” to accompany the cracks of twigs and rocks. My new converse will have rocks in them by the time I get home.
I touch the thistles as I walk. The sting reminds me I’m human. That I’m alive.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't though. I often think of a world I can't feel pain in. A state of constant reckless mania. Scraped knees, bruised thighs, hang-nails that don't leave me alone. I pick at them when I'm anxious, even if it hurts. It stings just like a thistle.
The rocks crackle beneath my feet. I pay extra attention to the rhythm I walk in. I think of musicals where the lead breaks out into song for any minor rhythm occurring.
I notice a patch of orange in the grass, hidden between the brambles and thick goldenrods of late summer. My father never lets me pick them, he says they worsen his allergies.
The fox lays bare amongst the grass. I don't know how long he’s been dead. His fur is matted and patched. Meat spoiled. I see bugs buzzing by his hips to his snout. He has a shiny black nose. A sin of nature. A violation of meat.
I think of the irony, a friend named Fennec and a dead red fox. I wonder if it's foreshadowing.
I leave a flower braided between stalks of grass by his stomach. I see his ribs poking out. The smell makes me sick.
Thick, disgustingly lifeless smell that reminds me of cadavers. At least that smell was sterile. The smell of rotten meat sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I leave the fox alone in the brush. It’s not my place to meddle with nature. I imagine the life he must’ve had; trotting through the low pine trees. Snacking on field mice and old birds. How does the hunter become the prey so easily? How do we stay on the top of the food chain?
Meat is meat, I suppose.
I go home and scrub the smell off my body using the lavender soap my father gave me. I don't like lavender. It's too strong of a smell and too violently calming. I don't like not feeling the anxious fervour that keeps me on my toes.
Maybe I should've held a funeral.
I'd take Fennec to the fox, tease him about his fate.
I pray to our God that he does not play a cruel trick of prophecy on me.

One crow squawks above me as I sit peacefully on the backyard porch. One crow signifies bad luck, death, despair, for crows are communal birds.
I am a lonely person, just like a singular bird. Some days I don’t think I was made for relationships. Friendships never came easily for me. The fact Fennec stays around me is a miracle in the first place.
I do not like being happy for long periods of time. It desensitises me to human nature. Hence the amount of times I've tried to make Fennec hate me. Unsuccessfully, might I add. No matter my begging, squawking, sobbing and screaming the sharp toothed boy never leaves me alone.
Maybe that makes me lucky. He’s my four leafed clover.
I have a tendency to hate the Avis. The regular buzz of life and ignorance confuses me. How do you live without having the answers we search for? When we are all packed together like sardines in the halls, I can feel them bumping and rubbing against the sleeves of my shirt. I feel their disgusting putrid warmth as they bump, over and over again. I wish they would die.
I want to grow wings like a crow. I wish my shoulder blades would grow massive oil-slick feathers that sprout like fourth arms from my body. I want to fly away when they pack against me. I want to shelter myself, just like the Royal Corvus.
But instead, I will survive by giving gifts to my friend like a magpie. I will build my nest of my own hair and leaves and twigs and I will keep my treasure safe. I will keep it safe until I find the person to keep my treasure safe forever.
Mother has a shoebox of my favourite treasures.
We live in a funeral home. The brightness is needed
I like nature. I like the taste of the oxygen against the back of my throat. I like the savoury meal of thick, gravy-like air that I devour with each hungry breath. But this world is desolate. A fruitless existence and I am uncomfortably aware of that. The empty shell of the angels who burnt out too bright and fast. The sky is always grey and overcast here. The scorched earth does not deserve to be walked on by the feet of men with no respect. Mother Earth does not deserve to be beneath the shoes of a man.
Some people radiate a holy light in this hellscape. A being of pure good and hope, who will be crushed in good time. The world is cruel to those optimists. It’s easier to close your eyes and keep moving, than be crushed beneath the weight of the world’s despair.
The void inside me is filled with trinkets of sparkling gold and silver. A stark contrast against the monotone dust-ridden waste inside me. My treasure sparkles when the sun hits it just right. It creates an artificial light to be worshipped and seen amongst men.
A magpie and a dragon are similar creatures.
Blood is my prized possession. My family is my treasure. Fennec is my treasure.

Mother bakes bread on Saturday evenings. A welcomed treat for the week to come, though it never lasts. Her touch is gentle and her fingers create magic. Her baking is my favourite. Her baking is her treasure.
It's a simple escapism to lose yourself in the sugary sweets of pastries and cakes. Icing that is brightly coloured is a different view from the grey walls, the grey ceiling and floor that surround us.
Mother doesn't leave the home often. She only leaves to pick carrots from the garden or to have a chat over tea with our neighbour. I don't know how she can stand the frilly nature of small talk. It makes me vomit to think about.
When I live on my own, I will grow roses. Beautiful dark roses with their thorns turned out to the world to protect me. My own shield of beauty. I will bury gems amongst the roots of the roses as offerings to the floral gods who will protect me. I’ll bury sugar and sprinkles to give them a taste of the sweetness they bestow upon me, just like a pastry.
I decorate my skin with the jewellery of roses. Red gems that sparkle like drops of blood drawn out by thorns. Perhaps I’m a touch hedonistic.

That night I dreamt of the fox in the woods. I dream of his life, so pleasant while he frolics through fields. I dream of the mice he hunts. I dream of his death. I dream that I am hungry. That I am ravenous and desperate to feast amongst the desolate earth. I dream my talons sink into the foxes skin, still warm with breath and blood. I dream my beak tears into his flesh, between his fur. I dream I devour the fox whole, savouring its blood, savouring its meat. I have never tasted a more devine meal.
Thump.
I wake up in a sweat with my lips chapped, a feeling of thirst resting in my throat. The night is cold and dark like a weighted blanket of snow draped over me. I am not on my bed. Very rarely do I ever sleep in my bed. Instead, I lay curled up underneath my bedside table with a quilted blanket my great grandmother gave me the summer before she passed.
I always wake up cold. No matter what temperature the house is at, my body always chills. Sometimes I wonder if I die in the night before coming to life every morning.
As I stumble out of my little caged area, a wave of nausea washes over me. It is familiar and it fills me with adrenaline. My legs are stiff and I wobble like a newborn deer amongst unfamiliar ground.
I have lived in this house since before I was born. I can navigate it blindfolded and spun around like a child at a birthday party; one hungry for the destruction of a pinata and the treasure that flows out.
Thump.
I don my quilt like a cape, savouring the last breath of warmth residing from my sleep. I tiptoe down the hallway to the bathroom, careful not to disturb the sleeping ghosts of the house. When I reach the bathroom, I turn the singular light on and stare at my face like I usually do when I wake.
The dark circles beneath my eyes are even more evident in this mono-luminescent room. My face looks gaunt and haunting with the contour lines around my cheeks seeming darker. My lips are chapped and pale. I grab a small paper cup and fill it with tap water.
While I drink, the water feels warm and thick against my tongue. I swirl it around in my mouth and note the metallic taste.
Thump.
When I look down, the water in my cup is red.
I swallow my mouthful but I dump the rest in the sink. I turn the tap on again and watch the red, watery blood pour out. I run my hand under the water and watch it pool in my palm.
I am mesmerised by the beautiful rubies streaming through my fingers. My treasure dripping down through the drain. I clutch at it, desperate to keep some for myself. My effort is futile.
When I go back to bed, my mind is filled with the red jewels in my hands. The perfect rubies glimmering in the moonlight. Beautiful, beautiful gems. When I close my eyes I am a dragon slumbering amongst my hill of treasure. My claws dig into the piles of gold. I feel possessive, but I am happy. I am safe with my treasure beneath me.
In my dreams, I fly over the black shadowy forests that surround my house. I spot the goldenrods and the spots that lay flat after the foxes die in them. I fly through the overcast skies, smelling the thick air and I am free.

Thump.
When I wake again, I am greeted by a breath of wind through my open window. I do not remember opening it.
I awake covered in sweat, though my body is still not warm. When I walk down the hallway I do not worry about tiptoeing. The ghosts are awake.
My bathroom tiles are cold and rough against my bare feet. It feels like walking over ice. When I fill my cup with water from the tap, it does not come out red. I drink graciously.
My mother greets me as usual. Her auburn hair is a frizzy mess from sleep. Her pyjamas are pink with yellow flowers. Yellow flowers are her favourite.
I brush my teeth but when I spit, the grit resides against my teeth. I take another sip from the tap.
Thump.
When I walk down the hall again, I avoid looking at my fathers door. Nothing good comes from behind his room.
Thump.
I know what that sound means. It is common to hear bumps and thuds often in my house. I pretend they don't exist.
When I was younger, Father left the door to his room open slightly. In my naive curiosity, I peeked in through the crack to watch him work. I learned the truth of being a Feeder- being an Avem.
After my breakfast; toast with ruby-red jam. I helped Mother to make it over the summer. She grew the strawberries herself.
I watch the books on the shelf shake and shudder with the morning frenzy of the household. I crack a window to get some air circulating. I leave for school.
I take the forest path once more. I want to pay my respects to the dead fox. I carry three shimmering rocks in my pocket. Three is a lucky number.
I reach the clearing to find the foxes ribs still poking out like blades of grass amongst the red fur. My flower-braid still lays on top of him. I place my three rocks by its feet. I pray his rest is peaceful. Poor spoilage of meat.

I don't want to go to class. I don't want to be around my sickly sweet peers who make me vomit with frilly small talk. It all makes my head hurt.
I sit with Fennec on the rocks outside the school. I tell him my thoughts. He offers to skip class at the corner store down the road. I go with him.
I told Fennec about the fox I saw. I tell him how I’m scared. He tells me he wouldn't leave me, even through death. I give him my lucky stone.
I like Fennec. He’s one of the few who listens to me.
We’ve been friends for a long time now. He sticks to me like he's glued.I think it's endearing. Being with him is like taking a puppy on a walk. He never stops talking or asking questions, but when there is silence it's always comfortable. He’s a safe person for me to be around.
We go to the corner stop. He pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. I don't know where he gets them from, we’re both way underage. He offers me a hit and I take it. I savour the burn going down my throat and hand it back to him.
Fennec talks about his classes and his teachers. I count his words. 13. Pause. 10. Breath. His voice is lower with an air of arrogance to it. He talks like he’s better than the teachers. I think he is.
Autumn is the season of death I tell him. He laughs and asks where that came from. I point to the leaves turning red and crumbling against the tree. He smiles.
“I’ll never understand your mind.”
That’s okay, I think. I'd prefer him not to.
We stayed together for the rest of the hour, making idle chat. It's comforting. I don't have to be someone around him. I don't have to be anything.
He walks me home from school. I never let him inside my house. It's too dark. Too colourless. I worry it’ll drain him of the life that runs through his body like an abundant river.
I tell him goodnight. He blows me an arrogant kiss. I flip him off.
Fennec always walks me home when it gets darker.
The house is always quiet when I get home. Only when my father gets home does the gentle thumping of the walls get louder. The smell of wet wood is thick in my nose. It smells like rot and death and soil. It’s home.
Putting my coat away, I notice another pair of shoes at the front door. I don't recognize them. Mom must have a client over.
She runs a small underground clinic for people who can't afford a regular doctor. It adds to the atmosphere of the funeral home to know terminally ill people step in and out of this house daily. If only they knew what happens in Father’s study.
We deal with the dead and the living dead. People who have or will hit their finale sooner than later. Comfort is trivial in this household. Death becomes comfort.
We are preparing for Festum Gulae, one of the biannual ceremonies we help facilitate. It's hosted by the Corvus Royals in honour of our God. As a community, we come together to feast and dance and one lucky tribute returns to the Arce Corvorum- The Crow’s Castle- to study under the Corvus.
But the tribute never once has returned from the castle.
I listen to the hum of the old house. Since I’m The Magpie, I haven't had to worry about being a tribute. The only ones who know my father are the Corvus and the other Feeders. The hierarchy of meat is not a kind fate.
Meat is meat to me. Carnis est carnis. But our God does not feel the same.
A meat's quality is based on the intelligence of the animal. Human meat, of course, stays at the top. The brain is most valuable. The freshness of the meat can enhance the value, though on principle, human will always stay at the top.
That's where the superstitions start from. Feeders are said to “feed” on the flesh they harvest. Friend of a Feeder means you are destined to be consumed at some point. I don't think this is true.
Birds are the one meat forbidden to be consumed by anyone. Our God is the Popphagus, a multi-eyed raven, god of gluttony. All bird’s are viewed as sacred. We adorn their bones, talons and beaks as symbols of power, but they're never to be consumed.
That’s why I’m safe as the Magpie.
Mother came to join me on the couch of our living room. The throw pillows were eternally damp and cold, but my mom radiated a heat this building lacked. I smiled at her. She smiles back.
Festum Gulae occurs on the 5th Sunday of October. There are parades, food vendors, bonfires, and a lantern ceremony once dark approaches. Usually the princess of the Corvus leads us in a prayer before we all light our candles, lights and lanterns, all red. I watch the wax dripping like blood down my candle every year. I think of the sacrifice. Flesh for honour.
Every house is asked to prepare a string of paper birds. Origami, cutout, feathers and bones are all common to see spread like banners down the streets. For my 10th birthday I was given a set of prayer feathers. Beautiful slick feathers with a gold tip. I prick myself with the end and speak my prayer while the blood drips down my fingers. I lick them clean once I'm done.
I help Mother to string the thick raven feathers onto the cord.
When Father knocks on the door, we hold our breath like a superstition.
I catch the seconds as he takes off his shoes, says a quick hello before going to his office. I count down the minutes.
It’s almost 5pm. Feeding hour.
7…6…5….
I make eye contact with Mother. She nods grimly.
4…3…2…
Thud.
There it is. The familiar thump of the beating heart of this household.
Father is home once more.

The night comes quickly and silently for me. We eat dinner together, Father at the head of the mahogany table with my mother and I on either side. I poke at my food sadly on my plate. Mother says nothing.
Good quality meat is too sacred for everyday meals. We are often stuck with small fish for food; betta fish, goldfish, minnows. If we're lucky we can get a slab of deer or cow meat for relatively cheap, but it’s always easiest to go with the fish.
Mother grows our own vegetables. We often have glamorous salads and hefty chunks of bread to wash down the protein. Only the Corvus are allowed to consume eggs, so we take what meat we can.
We eat silently. I feel my fathers eyes on my forehead. He’s staring me down. He has never been one for words, only glances and stares. I swallow my bite of fish with a thick throat. Anxiety pools in my stomach. I don't want to make eye contact.
“How was your day, Maggie?” He asks.
I look up and stare him down. I feel his cool navy eyes boring into me, trying to read my soul. If you look close enough, you can still see the reflection of death inlaid upon his pupils. I want to be sick.
I don't respond. His eyebrows raise in a slight question but he doesn't push me. I hate his grim face.
Mother tries to alleviate the tension by talking about her clients. I realise I never saw the last customer leave, their shoes still waiting at the door. His shoes are lonely.
I know what that means. No wonder there was less thrashing than usual. The beast has already been fed a hearty meal. We’ll have to write the victim's family a letter.
My house is shrouded by superstition. The kids of the neighbourhood hold their breath when they walk by. No one dares knock on the door, even when dropping off a parcel. Our house is the same size as others, but it still looms in energy. I'd hold my breath too if I were them.
When I was younger, I’d sit under the great dark trees on our front lawn. I’d read my book peacefully while other children walked by and called names. Sometimes I called back. There had always been rumours about this house. Rumours of its ghosts, it's inhibited agony. It's legacy a black stain on my childhood; isolating me.
I tell my family I’m no longer hungry. I bring my heft of bread up to my room. I sit on my bed and I chew it scornfully. I don't have much of an appetite these days.
I stare at the walls of my room. My apothecary bundles are strung from the bannisters of my windows. My rosemary, sage, lavender, cedar and juniper all hung upside down. My crystals and shiny trinkets are all placed strategically to catch the light rays. I like the rainbow reflections against my ceiling.
The mirror of my vanity sits across from me. I see my pathetic reflection. My dark hair and sad eyes. My posture suggests I’ve never seen royalty. I look tired. My lips perpetually in a downward tilt.
I try to smile into the mirror. My face turns awkwardly and my cheeks hurt with effort. It's not that I want to be disliked, I just frankly do not give a shit.
I don't understand people pleasers. I don't understand how it's so important to be loved by all. I don't understand people like Fennec. What’s their motivation? Clearly there's something they're doing for a higher purpose.
Stupid.
I strip down to my undergarments and slide under the covers of my bed. I slip my notebook out from behind my pillow and I doodle unconsciously.
Word after word, line after line, my page begins to look more and more like the fox I saw. I see his mangled body in my scribbles. His ribs sticking out like a hand desperate to be free. His whole body crumbling for some unholy sacrifice. A punishment not warranted by any god. A punishment for an innocent creature.
Tomorrow is saturday. Tomorrow I’ll see the fox, I tell myself. I left an offering but yet the beast still haunts my mind. He wants something I can't give. I have to return again.
I rip the pages out of my notebook. I tear them with my teeth the way a ravaging wolf would to his prey. I spit. Get out of my head.
Horrible beast of the forest why does your image haunt me? I've given you my prayer. I've given you my offerings. I feast on your blood and I am thankful, and yet you leave such a sour taste in my mouth. It was not my fault your meat became spoiled, an unlawful slaughter, and yet you taunt me with your visions. You taunt me with my own guilt. Why won't you leave me alone?
I rub my eyes with my palms. My nest of sheets and old rags calls me. I curl up amongst the warmth.
The fox follows me all the way through my psyche until I fall asleep.
Tonight however, I don't dream of the fox. My world is a thick wool blanket tonight. I don't see anything in the dark, but I can feel the presence. I know there's someone behind me. I reach out but I touch nothing. I am alone.
When I wake I am still cold. My clock blinks at me but I can't make out the numbers. I rub my eyes.
My room is dark. I'm still alone in the thick black abyss that surrounds my slumber. I look tentatively to the door of my room and convince myself I see a face in the shadows.
Rarely ever do I feel alone. I can feel the eyes of others on the back of my neck like a thin chill.
Thump
My attention turns to a faint voice I can hear down the hallway. It must've been Mother’s last patient. I know where it's coming from. The man begs and pleads for his life. He asks for forgiveness, or even sympathy from Father. I smirk to myself.
Father doesn't forgive anyone.
The begging stops. The house is silent again. It feels more like a museum than a house, forever being watched but never homed. I close my eyes and let the distant void take me away.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Morning sticks it's sickly fingers through my blinds. I rise with a stretch and groan. Tomorrow is Festum Gulae and I realise with a start that I need to find my own offering.
Every patron of our town must make an offering on Festum Gulae, no matter their age. Usually a bone, feather or slab of high quality meat was expected. Foraging was the answer today.
I made my way hastily out of the dreary funeral home. My iron-toed boots clomped heavily down the steps and towards the forest. I followed the path, counting breaths between the crunches of twigs and rocks. The forest was a fiery amber hue today.
The trees alternated so perfectly between yellows and reds, it was hard to imagine it was coincidental. A lightless fire, reaping death and raining corpses. I smiled to myself. I look at the birds sitting sorrowfully amongst the branches. They knew the time of year it was.
Briskly, I made my way back to the fox amongst the ground. I found his ribs before his fur, nicely decaying. Reclaimed by nature, but the smell was sickening. I crouched down with my nose under my shirt.
I poked the fox absentmindedly with a stick, trying to shift him in place. This corpse held secrets that I was itching to understand.
Instead of shifting however, the brittle flesh turned to ash amongst the ground. Grey soot crumbled in places the orange fur of the fox had previously sat. I poked it again. Now the bones crumbled too. I watched in horror at the poor display of decay. This was not a normal feat of nature.
The meat spoiling had been a state of blasphemy, however this was just cruel. I cupped what ash I could in my hands. A corpse that was cremated by no fire.
I slipped what I could into the leather pouch on my belt and stared at the spot of the dead fox. I stare at where his bones were, how his flesh arched like the doorway of a cathedral. But there is nothing to stare at anymore. What once was a moulding feast for bugs became nothing more than sand. A life could no longer be fulfilled.
I stood up, clutching my pouch to make sure the contents didn't spill. I continue down the path, my morning cape flowing gracefully behind me.
Death doesn't scare me anymore.
I step foot into my forest, I know this path by heart. I walk towards the tree I carved my name into when I was younger. I walk past the rock I had my first smoke on. I feel the leaves fluttering around me to their doom of the moulded forest floor. I bite my tongue.
My mouth fills with an iron taste, tongue aching between clenched teeth. I turn around.
I watch the leaves dancing between the trees. They float gracefully and swirl like classical dancers. I want to join them.
I twirl in place under the spotlight of the sun. I bask in the glow as I frolic without a care. The world falls away from my field of vision and I’m nothing but one with the leaves around me. I pirouette the way I’ve seen the dancers at festivals do. I spread my arms like wings and I fly across the golden underbrush of leaves.
I close my eyes and feel the sun caress my skin. I am happy here.
I dance throughout the forest to the song of the wind. I listen to its whistle encourage me forward. When the song finishes, I take a bow and offer my thanks. The sky is a blessing.
I continue my hunt of the earth's floor. I look high and low between the tree branches and rocks of the ground. I find a gorgeous black feather that reaches from my palm to the tip of my middle finger. I thank the bird's nest it came from and start to turn back towards my home.
Yet, I can not help but think of the ash that sits against my hip now. The life, the flesh, the memories it once contained. How inhumane to not even give it a proper burial? I feel the guilt settle in my chest and I want to vomit. Its memory is completely replaced by soot. Desolate. Dying and rotting alone.
I dig a little hole in the ground. I shift the leaves and dig my fingernails into the soft muddy earth of the forest. I dig until the ground is enough of a tomb for me to be content, and I pour the ashes out. I speak a gentle prayer, wishing the Popphagus’s kind blessing through the afterlife. A death of sin can not be reclaimed so easily, but I can try.
Cremation is a sin in this village. The unruly burning of flesh is not something to be proud of. Meat deserves a natural lifespan. Meat deserves to decay in peace. Ash reminds me of my past.
I find sticks and rocks to place in a makeshift grave over the ashes. I say another prayer before passing dirt over top and bidding farewell. I leave with a stoneface.
When I return home, no one greets me. I do not know if my mother or father are around, but frankly I do not care. I sit on the back porch and hold my feather, admiring its plumes. I've never seen such an inky black feather and it makes me smile. The Corvae write with quills of this shade. It is a feather meant for royalty.
I wash it gently with soap and water in a bucket in my backyard. I find my little gold endings and ornaments to tack onto the quill. A pretty black feather with dangling golden bells and caps. It will do just fine. I'm quite excited to show Fennec my find, but I am also curious what he will offer. He has always been on the fence of the whole religion thing, but he still practises with the rest of us.
The sky begins to turn dark and the stars creep into the night sky. I lean back and watch their glow. I draw lines between each star making my own constellations in the sky. I wave at the moon. With night bringing the end of the day, I slink back to my room, curling up under my desk in anticipation of the big day tomorrow. The festival of gluttony.
It's going to be a delight.

Chapter Text

The festival day awakens me and I’m filled with anticipatory fervour. The colours of the streets are ruby red and every house hangs brightly decorated bird houses, nests and lanterns. I can't count the colours I see on my fingers and the idea fills me with a much needed joy. I am a dragon gazing at the treasure I’ve collected over a millennium. I watch the rippling gold paint smear sigils and drawings of birds across the roads once paved so strikingly black. It's almost impossible to imagine this happening overnight, the street is unrecognisable.
I tear myself away from my window and turn to my ceremonial clothing, it is the most exciting part of my closet. This is the only time I can wear it and it makes me feel like a princess every time. I do up the buckles on my feathered black corset, each made from bone and varnished delicately. My skirt flows down to my ankles and is shrouded in a beautiful lace, hand weaved by a village elder. My shawl contains a delicate pattern of swirls and a red painted emblem on the back.
Everyone in the village has our own unique regalia with a symbol designated by the Corvae. Mine contains an abstract skull who’s left eye twists into a snake-like swirl that makes up the top portion of the head.
But my favourite part will always be the Corvae mask. It is mandatory for every woman-presenting citizen to wear a mask at times like these since the Popphagus is seen as the mother of all birds and we are seen as sacred.
My mask hooks elegantly off my face in a perfect beak. The mask curves at the top like a horn owl and is made of a slick faux-leather material with red ruby teardrops surrounding my eyes like blood.
I feel elegant. I feel like the Magpie.
I flutter downstairs to greet my mother good morning. Her auburn hair sits in gorgeous curls that defy gravity around her shoulders. Her dress sits with a scarf dangled loosely around her shoulders. She wears beautiful gloves that go to her elbow and her mask sits beside her, a beautiful collection of feathers and gold markings along the beak and eyes.
She hands me a plate of waffles with runny syrup from last season. I try to breathe between bites but I am starving. I skipped all meals yesterday accidentally. Mother stifles a laugh as she watches me inhale the waffles like I’m dying.
The mood changes as soon as Father walks in.
I stop, sitting more rigid and taking slower bites. I pace myself and take my elbows off the table. Good manners should be displayed by a good girl, he used to tell me.
He sits at the head of the table and unfolds his newspaper, browsing while Mother pours him a cup of coffee. I count the amount of chews it takes to get through the waffle. The silence cuts in like a knife and the joy I felt earlier dissipates entirely.
My father wears a simple vest adorned with gold buttons, a black collared shirt and a shawl with his own sigil on it. He tucked a few feathers into his breast-pocket and placed dark makeup under his eyes and on the centre of his lips.
We each wear red ruby earrings with a vertebrae that dangles and clinks when we move. It is a symbol that we are a family.
When I finish eating, I put my boots on and grab my pouch attached to my belt. My father walks first out of the home into the busy streets of the festival. The smell of smoke and barbeque fills my nose. I rush down the steps, hoisting my dress so I don't trip.
I walk down the street, admiring the food and art vendors of all kinds. Art of ravens and crows and magpies littered every building. Drawings of bird skulls and murals of blackbirds feasting were being drawn with chalk on the pavement. Between the lamp posts are our strings of feathers and bones, each handmade by a family. The meat vendors sell roasted mice and deer slabs; carnival like food that smells of spices. My mouth waters.
There are dancers at the centre stage, a block down the main street my house is located on. I speed walk up to them. The dancers are my favourite part.
Beautiful black silk robes and scarves fly through the air like wings attached to each arm of the dancer. They all wear a bird skull mask and feather earrings. They twirl and flutter like a flock of birds and I am entranced. I sit eagerly, admiring the grace before me.
Someone taps my shoulder. I turn and see Fennec, dressed in his black collared shirt, dress pants and dress shoes. He wears a feather in his hair and a necklace of vertebrae. He wears eyeliner on his waterline and has black pearls decorated around the corners of his eyes. His ear piercings are filled with different small bones, but his main lobe contains a talon. I smile at him.
“How could you tell it was me under the mask?” I ask, turning back to the beautiful dancers who now were whistling along with the harp being played.
“Who else would run to get a front seat at the dancers show?”
I watch hungrily as the dancers speed up into a crescendo. They’re twirling faster, imitating a crows call while twirling their silk ribbons and scarves behind them. The dance ends with a sharp note and a dramatic pose. I applaud.
“It’s Festum Gulae! This doesn't happen every day, Fennec.”
“I don't think I’ve seen you this happy since you found a feather fossilised in a rock.”
“Hush. I have to get the excitement out now before my dad comes around again. Besides, you're the only one who recognizes me properly. I can keep up the edge factor later.”
Fennec laughs. He turns to me as the next set of dancers embark to the stage.
“I got you a gift.” He hands me a little brown box, tied with a black ribbon. I tilt my head at him.
“What for?” I take it.
“Just open it, I thought you'd like it.”
I slide the ribbon off the box and peel it open. Inside sits a glistening golden bell about the size of my thumb. I thank him and tuck the bell into my pouch. It's beautiful, and so sparkly. A true treasure. He seems content with my reaction.
Fennec has picked up on my habits and quirks throughout the years. He knows what I like and how I gift; he knows it's my love language and he returns the favour. I would be lost without him.
We sat and watched the dancers' performance side by side. This time, they were accompanied by wind-chimes and silver triangles, a medley of soft ringing to accompany graceful dances. I watch in awe.
One dancer catches my eye however. She has long black hair that goes down to her butt. It's such a shiny black it reminds me of a crow just looking at her. Her mask is different too; it features ornate gems and feathers to decorate the beak and around the eyes. Long chains dangle from her cheeks to her beak. But the way she moves is most striking of all.
She moves like a river, flowing sharp and with purpose amongst the sway of the others. She's graceful and a beautiful fucking beast. She sways in time with the ringing and her scarves and silk flow gorgeously behind her. She's elegant. Every movement is perfect. I have trouble tearing my eyes away from her.
A few crows are attracted by the noise and the smell of meat. I count eight of them and we take turns tossing seeds and meat scraps to them as a crowd. They squawk in response and shake their oily feathers. I wave hello and thank them for their blessing. Such beautiful creatures. The dancers and the crows are one in the same
A crow hops to my side. He tilts his head at me with a gentle squawk and I run my thumb over his forehead. The birds around here know they are sacred. I can tell they like the attention.
The bird flutters off when Fennec turns to speak to me again. I don't listen to anything he says. I'm too mesmerised by the girl on the stage. They're in between a performance and she turns and crouches down to talk to another village member. Her hair frames her face perfectly as she leans over. Everything from the curve of her spine to the tips of her finger tips and her long flowing dress scream elegance. It also screams money. This is a well groomed daughter from a family and god is she gorgeous.
Fennec can tell I’m not listening. He’s trying to get my attention but I am daydreaming of her face under the mask. I want to know who she is.
“Earth to Maggie-” he waves a palm in my face.
I look at him. “What?” I squirm to keep my eyes on her while Fennec attempts to block my view.
He huffs. “What I was saying was that sooner or later the Corvae are going to make a speech. We should hurry over to the square to catch them.”
“Yeah yeah. In a bit. I want to see the end of their performance.” I gesture at the stage and Fennec rolls his eyes. Fennec stays with me though. I always win at games like this.
The dancers perform one last song and dance. The crows around the stage seem to agree with this encore and two of them hop up some of the steps. In my head I envision the dancers dancing with the crows, their little wings out-stretched and little hops and squawks. I stifle a laugh.
The performance ends but the beautiful girl slips away before I can see where she’s going. I'm a little disappointed, but Fennec is tugging my arm to bring me to the square where crowds of people are gathering.
The square isn't much. It's a little section of the road decorated with intricate murals, usually riches and birds and occasionally a dead animal depicted being feasted on. The Corvae try to keep some realism when talking with the public. They want to close the gap between us, and yet they still live in a towering castle and we only see them in person a maximum of four times a year. They’re isolated completely from us, but they’re still our royalty.
Fennec and I crouch down in front of some people, getting a seat to view where the king currently sits, talking idly with one of their servants.
The king is a big man. His arms and thighs bulge with weight and muscle. His hands are so massive he could easily grab me by the face, but he wears black leather gloves over them. His face is angled and sharp but he has an air of kindness to it, if you can look past the groomed royalty aspects. His clothes are freshly ironed and tailored to fit him perfectly. He has never known the feeling of a baggy hand-me-down hoodie from your great-aunt’s grandson who's too big for it. He is special.
He has a large beard that curls down to his belt. It has braids of different lengths decorating it and shiny beads that are almost pearlescent in the sun. His hair is long and brought into a bun at the back of his head. He has a scar down the centre of his right eye.
The King clears his throat as the Queen and Princess waltz onto the stage. The queen is elegantly dressed as well, a perfect silk dress with lace over the different panels cut into the fabric. Her hair is done up similarly to my mothers, a light 90’s curl but this time in black. She smiles delicately.
“Fair daughters and sons of the Popphagus. My husband and I would like to thank our committee for ensuring decorum was completed in time for the ceremony.” the Queen drawls. I feel my eyes closing.
But that’s when I see the dancer again. She's gorgeous. Tall and well built, she stands next to the Queen proudly and gracefully. She almost looks like a doll controlled by strings to create her graceful perfection. Even the wind never puts a hair out of place on her head.
The Queen gives her regular prayer and speech. She thanks the Popphagus for her blessings this season. She thanks the feeders (though the crowd does not clap for this one) and she finally thanks the last festival's tribute.
I remember her. A scrawny girl with terrible acne. Her hair was frizzy and she kept adjusting her glasses behind her mask. Her hair had been done into a braid. I remember seeing her turn and walk off from the rest of us without saying a word. I couldn't tell if she was scared.
We haven't seen her since. We haven't seen any tribute since they went back to the castle, let alone heard from them. There was no contact once you went away, only royal studies and who knows what.
We don't know what happens to the tributes. Of course there are rumours surrounding that they get eaten or turned into a rug or something unrealistic. No matter how sacred death is, the Corvae always keep their hands clean.
The king makes a little speech as well. His voice is thick like molasses and I note how his canine teeth are expertly sharpened. He places his thumb to his mouth between pauses like he’s thinking quite deeply about what he's grateful for. Fennec and I roll our eyes at each other.
But then the girl speaks. The beautiful girl who dances like a swirling breeze and moves like a perfect doll. She identifies herself as the daughter of the Queen and King, a princess. I have never seen her before today. She’s never been to any festival before, even though she looks to be around my age? I wonder where she’s been the last 17 years. Was her perfect etiquette and movement what she studied while we studied maths?
But her voice was like music. A perfect melody and a sing-song undertone that made her sound cutesy and smart. She was literally a walking doll. A perfect walking doll. Fennec and I share another look, but I know that he knows my interest is piqued.
The beautiful girl steps back so her mother can lead the prayer we chant together. Everyone knows it, whether they've heard it before or not.
“ O’ watchful eyes of the Popphagus,
May we be your talons and your wings;
God of Gluttony and creator of meat
We stand for you and you alone.”
The princess holds a hand over her heart as she chants, as if it were an oath binding her to the life of riches she led. The monarchy offers a quick bow before the king rings a bell to gather everyone's attention again. We shut our mouths.
“Now as you know, every festival we pick a beloved tribute to study under the Corvae Royals. This festival is no exception. After many days, weeks and months of consideration and watching, I believe we've decided on our next tribute.” The King speaks with a smile so wide you can count all his glistening white teeth. Sometimes I wonder if he hires someone to whittle pearls into teeth he can wear. “And well, I’m sure we’re all excited about a new tribute. For it is an honour to study under our guidance and become one of the talons of the Popphagus. It is only the highest reward someone can gain.”
Fennec rolls his eyes at me. It’d be cool, sure, but the highest honour to be isolated from everyone you love?
“This year's tribute for the festival is…”
I pick at the skin around my nails. I think of the ugly, frilly kids in my class who I’d be perfectly content to never see or hear from again.
“...Fennec Wild”
Fuck.
“No-”
I turn quickly towards him with wide eyes. He stares in shock and in horror. There's hundreds of children in the village, surely this is just a mistake. It has to be a mistake. There's no way they’d want him. Fennec is the farthest thing from royalty. But then someone from the crowd gave him a gentle push towards the square.
“No, please-” I whisper.
The Queen walks towards us with a sickly sweet smile plastered under her mask. My stomach is filled with dread.
Anyone but him.
“I don't want to go-” Fennec tells her.
“No-” I cling to Fennec’s arm. “Please don't take him. He’s all I have, please.”
The Queen smiles angrily at me. “Are you really going to deny your friend this honour? Please don't take away his moment to shine, Magpie.”
The Queen offers her hand to Fennec. Someone else nudges me away from him. He doesn't get a choice, he has to take her hand.
As Fennec is dragged away from me, my eyes fill with tears and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can't breathe. The princess pats his back and the king nods his head. I can feel the eyes of the crowd glaring at me.
“No no please-” I beg. I clutch at the Queen’s dress and try to crawl after Fennec. “Please- please no.” I sob.
“You're making a scene Maggie.”
“Anyone but him-”
“The decision has been made.”
“It’s not fair-”
A sharp pain in my side hits as one of the servants kicks me in the side. I hiss and kneel over, clutching my ribs. My friend. My only friend Fennec is being torn away from me. I'm never going to see him again.
He’s gone.
“Don't leave me-” I blubber.
Every moment I spent with him will disappear. He'll be nothing but a memory.
When I look up, Fennec is waving sadly to the crowd as they usher him away to the palace. I want to scream. He looks back at me and blows a kiss with a sad smile, but his heart isn't in it. Why him. Why Fennec out of everyone they could have chosen? I curse the Queen out in my head. I curse the royalty.
The only friend who promised never to leave me was being dragged from my grasp. All that I had left of him was a golden bell and a lifetime of memories. Every ounce of joy I’d felt over the last hour was drained and replaced with nothing but despair.
I watched powerlessly as my friend was escorted away from me. Every footstep was another moment with him lost. Every pace away from me was a year I'd never see him again.
My only friend, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. A fox turned to ash yet again, falling through my fingers like soot.
Goodbye, Fennec.

Chapter Text

For the next three days I don't leave my room unless it is to use the bathroom. I don't eat. I barely sleep. All I can do is think about Fennec.
In grade three, he brought me a dandelion everyday after school. He brought it to the door of my house and would knock until I answered. He was the only one not scared of the dark shadows that lurched in my home.
I helped him cheat on tests. He threatened guys who tried to bully me in the hallway. He always checked I was eating enough and sleeping enough. On days with the worst depressive episodes, he’d sit in my driveway and talk about nothing. He was always there, always taking care of me.
And I couldn't even protect him from the Corvae.
He liked to play pranks on others more than anything. He was deemed the “class clown” in middle school for the amount of ‘your mom’ jokes he would make in between lessons. One time he started a food fight in fifth grade.
Even though he was popular, people didn't hang out with him. It was hard to form a genuine connection when someone is always deflecting and making jokes.
But I got through to him.
I saw his fights with his father, his screaming matches with his brother. I saw his addictions develop. I watched him down a bottle of his fathers beer while smoking a cigarette. I watched his eyes turn dark and his eyebags get darker but he still kept his persona. He still flirted and teased and joked.
His grades were decent enough. He never failed a class but sometimes people treated him like he did. They always treated him like he was stupid and was getting into something he'd never understand.
He was my friend.
He was my first kiss. We just wanted to fool around and see what it was like. We never officially dated.
He was the only person I allowed myself to miss.
Just another reason Magpies shouldn’t have friends. They just end up getting taken away one way or another.
I cried so hard every night my pillow was always sopping wet. My mom brought food to my door but she knew better than to knock or open it. It’d just end in a screaming fit.
It wasn't fair.
The Corvae could just snatch up anyone they wanted and take them away to who knows where for the rest of their lifetime, whether the person consented or not.
It wasn't fair.
I wanted to scream and tear out chunks of my hair. I wanted to fight and hiss and cry and squawk. But no one came. No one fought. So here I am, stuck with my anger and I am completely and utterly alone.
And for the first time, I envied the ghosts of this household so fucking badly. I envied their lost memories and nonexistence. I envied their quiet ache.
I just wanted my friend back.
I slept under my bedside table, as small as I could physically muster. I want to disappear. I don't want to live in this existence where I’m alone again. Isolated and hated by all. The freak of the neighbourhood in the house of ash.
Fennec was the only one who wanted anything to do with me after our first house burnt down. Rumours spread faster than the wildfire that ruined it and sooner than I could think twice, everyone had abandoned me like I had lit the fire. A heatless desolation of my childhood.
But Fennec liked me. He liked me and he stayed with me and when my hair grew long he braided it. When his hair grew long I helped him cut it. We braided locks of each other's hair into our own.
The tears start again. I miss him. I miss his laugh and his lopsided smile and his breath after smoking and his tired eyes. I missed what made him him. But now he’s seen as a royal and all that will be stripped away. He’ll be brainwashed and corrupted and I can't stop it.
A simple knock at my bedroom door distracts me from my agony. I wipe my tears against my hoodie’s sleeve as I open the door.
My father stands before me. His beard is tangled and frayed and his eyes are deep. He looks tired.
“What?” I snarl.
“A letter came.” He says plainly. He hands me an envelope that looks tea-stained with age. It fosters a black-bird seal on it. I don't say anything and I take it from him.
It’s addressed to me. Maggie Hart. It has my address and my name and the stamp of the Corvae Royals right in the corner of it. It makes me want to vomit.
I open the letter gingerly, terrified for what it might hold.

Dear Maggie Hart, Magpie of Feeder #2134

The Corvae Royals would like to invite you to the Arce Corvorum at 3:45 Pm Tonight, Thursday November 3rd for dinner and to discuss your unacceptable behaviour at the Festum Gulae last Sunday.
Failure to arrive will result in astute punishment. Do not arrive earlier nor later in the evening or you will be turned away. This is a formal dinner, dress accordingly.

Signed,
The Family of the Corvae Royals

My body filled with such automatic dread it was like second nature for me. I really fucked up. I gulped silently while my father scanned me down.
“Well?” he pressed.
I glared at him. “The Corvae want me for dinner tonight. Failure to arrive will result in astute punishment, apparently.”
My father does not react to this. “I guess you'd better get dressed.”
I slam my bedroom door in his face. If I don't go, who knows what they’d do to my family? But if I do go, what will happen to me?
I fall back under the comforting sheets of my bed. At least here I am safe for now. I have a few hours before I should leave, but it’ll take more than a few hours to fix this unkempt mess I have become.
I count to 15 while holding my breath. I sound the numbers out in my mind slowly, so I can focus on them. 15 crows fluttering around my mind. 15 thoughts that will keep me safe. Once 15 is up, I will stand and put my best dress on. I’ll find my best robe and my best jewellery and I will be on my very best behaviour. No squawking allowed.
I huff and tear through my closet. In it sits a beautiful green velvet dress I’ve never worn. It's quite regal, so I suppose it will do. It hugs my curves graciously and the belt is embedded with small emeralds and jadeite crystals.
I put my hair into a bun with a sharp pin through it. I look like my mother, I think while poking at myself in the mirror. I have her gaunt cheekbones and her long face. I have her jawline that could cut like a knife. I have her eyes and her pursed lips, but I have my fathers nose. I'm grateful that is the only quality we share.
I found the golden bell Fennec gifted me. I tie it into my hair so it jingles while I walk. I stack my favourite gold necklaces and bracelets, adorning myself like I was royalty. Tonight only I could play pretend.
The time is 3:27 PM when I leave. That gives me enough time to walk through the forest on the way to the great looming castle above us all. I pace down the market streets, our village entirely cleaned from Festum Gulae minus the painted murals on the roads and building walls. I bought myself a fresh bun from a vendor, I’m hungrier than I realised.
I compliment a villager's art as I walk but she does not thank me. Instead she stares at me with intense eyes. She looks at me like I am a fly caught in her web, prey about to be slaughtered, and then she turns and keeps walking like nothing ever happened. I sigh.
I pace to the forest that links the villages to the castle. The dark trees greet me with a smile and the wind whistles my name as I walk through the pathway.
My steps are loud and branches crack with minimum effort below me. If some beast in the woods was going to hear me, I would've been dead already.
The sky is still ripe with a fall afternoon, but I can barely see the light through the thick trees that surround my head. An unholy halo, I think. But when I come to the clearing, a strict distinction between our world and the royalties, I step through it without hesitation.
I'm shaking but I am not scared. The Royals have stripped me of my love, they can not hurt me more. And to hurt my family without reason would upset the natural balance between the palace and the feeders. I walk with the knowledge that they can't do shit to me.
The palace looms over my head. The building is dark with an aura of grandeur to it. Tall turrets on either side that are linked by black brick and dark stones. There's a tall spiked fence to keep unwanted visitors out. It all feels very gothic.
The courtyard has a maze of blood red rose bushes. I count five servants tending to the whole mass, watering and picking and pruning. I imagine the Queen pricking her fingers on the roses. It makes me happy to think she can still bleed.
The palace gate has an attendant nearby it. I wave to him and show my letter of invitation. It is exactly 3:44 and it will be 3:45 by the time the royal family sees me. I am exactly on time.
The servant allows me in and directs me to the hallway. He informs me they have been waiting for me. I want desperately to spit on his shiny, slick dress shoes. I want to tell him he’s and this entire family is a major prick and everyone would be better if they fucked off to back where they came from.
I keep my mouth pursed tightly and silence the cursing in my head. Today I am a royal.
I walk to the castle doors, careful not to trip on the uneven stone pathway. I knock thrice on the door, three times for good luck. The door opens on the second knock.
A short man with glasses and thick black hair greets me. I can see his moustache moving while he breathes and it reminds me eerily of a thick, black caterpillar. For a castle so prestigious you'd think they'd at least have a policy to keep their staff clean-shaven and tidy. I walk with my chin jutted outward and a brisk pace to my strut. My guide boy trails behind me, muttering about the royal courtroom.
We walked to the grand dining hall. I note the distance from the front door to the room, I count my steps carefully. I know how long it'd take to run from one end to the next, should it come to that. The hallway is straight with no excessive curves which would make an escape much easier.
Every door within the palace looks the same, a grand oak frame with engraved crows staring you down. The handles were solid brass that appeared to be polished quite often. No trim of the hallway had even the hint of dust. It was the most well kept ghost town I’d ever seen.
When the servant opened the door for me, I was greeted with a thick waft of gravy and meat. The table was as long as my entire house and wide enough for someone to lay horizontally across it. The Queen sat at the head of the table with the king to her right side and her daughter to her left.
“I hope you don't mind the early dinner, Magpie. It felt rude to invite you without food.” The Queen's voice was sickly savoury. She talked with a drawl that made her sound like a royal asshole. I bit my tongue to refrain from saying anything back to her.
A servant led me forward and pulled out the chair beside the princess. I sat and didn't look at her, or at least tried to. It was hard when she wafted grace the way the meat on the table wafted sweetness.
“Thank you for inviting me, Your Highness, I hope it wasn't too much trouble to prepare a meal for me.” I snarled. I wanted to leap across the table and tear her throat out.
“Oh my, Magpie. Do be on your best behaviour if you wish to see your friend again.”
I bit my tongue again. A servant placed a plate in front of the Queen. Then they served her daughter, then me, then the king.
I inspected my plate cautiously. A great hunk of meat was given to each of us. It was rich and savoury and smothered in a beautiful thick gravy that made my mouth water. It was some sort of high grade meat, nothing like what I’d get at home. There was a variety of vegetables, not just carrots. Vegetables I’d never seen before were decorated with flakey sea salt and tasted like candy in my mouth.
I could feel the Princess’s gaze on me while I ate. The meat was slightly sweet with a smoky aftertaste. It felt like pork in my mouth, though I knew it wasn't. The kingdom would never stoop so low as to eat pork.
I realised very suddenly that I was starving. It would be impolite to ask for seconds, but I couldn't get enough of the feast before me. Gravy ran down my chin and I was acutely aware of the scene I was making, completely ignoring my manners at the royal table.
The Queen cleared her throat and I sat up straight, wiping the gravy from my chin with the black napkin that had been placed on my lap.
“Magpie, we brought you here with intentions of a peaceful conversation, no yelling or crying or kicking, alright? Keep in mind at who’s table you are sitting, and if you aren't content I can and will throw you out of this castle and banish you from the village, understand?”
I nod my head. All threats of violence had left my mind after my stomach had been filled. I had never eaten so greatly nor tasted such delicacies before. It made me sick to think of the beta fish I used to beg for my mother to bring home from the market.
“Very good. We called you here today to discuss your actions at the Festum Gulae last Sunday. Do you understand what you did wrong?”
I take a bite of the beautiful loafs of bread beside me. The flesh is so soft and light it tastes like I'm eating air. Very delicious air.
The Queen raised her voice. “Do you understand what you did wrong?”
I look at her. “Be upset that you were stealing my friend away from me?”
Her eyebrows quirk downwards at me and I note the stern air in her voice. “No. You were upset of the blessing bestowed upon your friend to study under us and become a tribute to the Popphagus. It is the highest honour, do you understand me? This was the best gift your friend could have received and you ruined his day. Do you know how sad you made him? How upset he was that you took the attention away from him on his big day? Do you know how he cried to me?”
I want to scoff. “That doesn't sound like Fennec at all.”
“Oh but it was. He was happy to finally get away from your misery and angst to fulfil his true purpose. He was sick of you.”
“No he wasn't. He wasn't sick of me. If he was sick of me I would have known.”
“Really? And so why would he have kept this secret from you?”
“What secret?”
The Queen leans on her hand and gestures vaguely. “It's not really my place to say, Magpie. He was the one to keep it from you.”
“What secret?”
“He volunteered to be the tribute. I have the proof right here.”
I stare in horror as she produces a small written note from her draping sleeve. She passes it to the princess who gives it to me.
Sure enough, in Fennec’s handwriting it states:

Dear Corvae Royals.
I wish to become a tribute. I do not feel connected with my religion and worship and it would be an honour to study under you. It is my greatest wish to become a Talon. It is my duty as a citizen to worship our lady Popphagus, and I feel this is the best way.
Please take this into consideration when choosing a tribute.

Signed, Fennec Wild.
My heart sinks to my stomach. I think I'm going to be sick. Fennec never once told me he wanted this, but yet here it was in his uncanny writing. The paper is the same kind his own mother made in their household when it was too expensive to buy. And there is his signature, perfectly rendered. There is no doubt that Fennec wrote this.
But why?
I start to spiral as I clutch the letter to my chest. No. This can't be true. Why would Fennec lie to me? Why would he lie to me to get away? Was he that sick of me?
I gave him every opportunity to leave me on his own free will. Was he only friends with me out of pity? Was everything he said a lie?
When I look down at the note again, I notice fresh droplets pooling between the writing.
I'm crying. I'm sitting here crying in front of the Corvae Royals. They're watching me be abandoned in real time.
I sniffle as the Queen looks at me expectantly. I feel faint.
“Vira, our guest isn't looking well. Would you escort her to the couch in the front hall so she can leave when she’s ready?”
“Yes, my Queen.”
The princess stands up beside me. She folds her napkin before placing it on her seat and offering me her gloved arm. For the first time that day I looked at her properly.
She’s wearing her mask again, but she wears an off the shoulder top with sleeves that puff up around her biceps. She looks stronger than I would have noticed from afar. Her hair is done in an elegant braid decorated with sleek feathers. She wears a simple golden tiara that hosts three gems in the middle. She looks like a princess.
I take her arm and allow her to escort me. She walks with one foot in front of the other, elegant, graceful and practised. Her posture is perfect and her chin is held high. She leads me to a deep mauve couch a few doors down from the front hallway. She sits me down carefully and pats my hand.
“I'm sorry about your friend.”
I don't say anything. The princess leaves me to sit in my misery, alone and in an unfamiliar place. I don't even recognize myself. I don't know why I came here today. I don't know why I wasted seven years on someone so sick of me they couldn't say it to my face. The tears started again. Why would he lie to get out of being with me? Was I that horrible to him?
I lay my head against the arm of the couch and I cry silently to myself.
I am drowsy and full of angst. Sleep tugs at my vision but I must stay alert. It would be impolite to fall asleep on my host's couch.
Servants walk by me as I lay down. I watch their clean dress shoes shuffle along the polished floors of the castle. I watch them use a black feather duster to clean the trims of the hallways.
Would Fennec really give up everything to live a life like this?
It doesn't add up. It doesn't make sense.
It's not fair.
My body refuses to move. I think I hear the princess’s voice as I nod off to sleep. For a family so vile they sure are beautiful. Sickly sweet and frilly. The perfect villains to ruin my life.

Chapter Text

I awake with a start to an unfamiliar sensation surrounding me. The thick wool of a hand knit blanket is wrapped around me and I realise very suddenly that I am still in the castle. My body feels feverish, struck with a hot sweat for the very first time in my life. I feel disgusted.
I start to wonder if they poisoned the food they fed me. It wouldn't have been hard.
When I open my eyes, the castle is dark and haunting. Torches light the dim hallway and the castle smells like burning cedar. There is no one around me. I am in an unfamiliar ghost palace. I am alone.
But then a coherent thought strikes me. Fennec must be around here.
I stand, leaving the wool blanket in a scratchy pile on the floor. I do not bother to pick it up or fluff the pillows from where I just slept. It is not my fault they poisoned me, they can deal with the aftermath. I think with a smirk that I might as well tear up the pillows while I’m at it.
I take to inspecting the hallway instead.
My heavy eyelids flutter as I crouch to inspect the wooden trim around the flooring. I inspect the floorboards for secret trap doors and I knock gently on the wood to see if it sounds hollow. My inspections are futile. I turn to pulling at the door handles of the grandiose oak doors of the castle. The brass handles don't budge, they are all locked.
I walk down to where the dining hall was and even that door is locked tight. I try pulling harder but the door seems to be paralyzed in place. I wonder what magic this building contains.
The dark hallway is long, I can't clearly see the end of it. I count the torches between each doorway arch, three, four, five, but I give up shortly after.
I decide to knock on each door. I do not care how early or late in the night it is and I do not care that it might be a bedroom behind each door. All I want to see is Fennec.
But this yields no results as well, and now I found myself in an abandoned hallway lost between a straight maze of endless doors. I hissed to myself in frustration.
“Are you lost, Magpie?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. My heart beats faster and adrenaline pumps through me telling me to run. I whipped around to find the Princess behind me, holding a lantern lit by a candle.
She is strikingly beautiful in this lighting, I think to myself. Her long hair dangles around her shoulders and she wears a white silk nightgown. A dark mesh veil covers her face, obscuring her from the world, but my knees feel weak just looking at her.
Her skin is pale and lifeless. I can see the blue veins of her wrists quite clearly, almost like she was a ghost. I note her long nails and golden bangles and rings. I note her perfect posture and inquisitive tilt to her head.
“I'm sorry, did I wake you?” I half ask. I don't really care but it feels wrong to not address her politely.
“I heard you knocking.” Her voice was chilly and sharp, emotionless with a slight lisp to it. But there was something mesmerising about her in every way.
Even without seeing her eyes I could feel her cold stare on me.
“I want to see my friend.”
I think I see her smile beneath the veil. Her shoulders shake like she's laughing- or crying. Her chuckle sounds like the ringing of a bell.
“I'm afraid that can't be done, silly Magpie. Your friend isn't here.”
“What?”
“He’s not here.”
Everything the Princess says sounds monotone like she's reading from a poorly written script. My head feels fuzzy from sleep and nausea and it takes me a moment to process what she’s saying.
“If he’s not here, where is he?”
The princess smiles again and turns away from me. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says while turning coyly.
“Where is he?” I repeat, frustrated and frankly feeling quite fed up with this Princess.
“Long gone and not coming back. I think it's time for you to leave.” She speaks sharper this time, sounding slightly annoyed that I wasn't following her. It is hard to disobey her commands. I pace slowly behind her as she walks me elegantly to the door.
When she opens it, I walk past her and catch a whiff of her perfume. She smells like lavender. I hate lavender.
“I'm sorry about your friend, Magpie.”
“Call me Maggie.”
“I'm sorry about your friend, Maggie.” She repeats.
I walk away from this hellish castle and don't turn back. In my mind I’m setting it on fire and spreading the unholy ashes like offerings amongst the town.
“Safe travel home, Maggie.” The Princess calls after me.
I imagine spitting in her stupid veiled face.
The moon shines brightly above me, illuminating the uneven stone path to the forest. I am careful not to trip, still feeling the unfaltering eyes of the Princess along my back. When I turn at the gate, she stands still at the door, not moving, barely breathing. She’s like a walking corpse, I think to myself.
I scowl. The dead should stay dead.
The forest does not scare me at this time of night, but I do walk with caution and my fists clenched tightly. The forest is eerily silent, not even the wind sings as the moon guides me home. All I can think of is how I hope Fennec is seeing the same moon as me right now.
My steps grow brisk and soon I find myself jogging down the forest path. My eyes have adjusted to the low light and I feel more confident with every step. I want to get out of here.
I finally reach the front of my porch but I do not feel any safer. The town is silent, no lights flutter on in the darkness. It is eerie. It is a ghost town.
I bite my tongue and step through my front door. Unsurprisingly, Father is still awake. I do not wish to talk to him. He asks me how dinner was and I want to flip him off. He talks to me about staying out late while I peel my boots off. I don't even look at him as I walk past and up to my room. If he only knew what I’m dealing with maybe he wouldn't scold me so pointlessly. If only he listened.
The effects of the food have not completely worn off yet and with the adrenaline leaving my body, I yawn deeply. I shrug off my over-cape and my fancy attire, now crinkled from being slept in. I remove the mask from my face and massage my muscles. If i'm not careful, the mask will fuse to my face.
I think I’ve had enough of this stupid holliday.
When sleep comes for me, I dream of the transparent Princess. I dream of her sapphire blue veins and her indigo blood. It makes me sick how far away from the red-tones her body fosters. I dream of the long hallway and her guiding light and flowing nightgown. I dream that she leads me astray, over and over through every wrong corridor of the haunted palace. I want to run away from her and her life where everything is given to her on a silver platter. I want to cuss her out with ugly words that ruin her perfect grace and elegance.
I wake up feeling horribly nauseous.
I keel over in my makeshift nest on the floor. I clutch my stomach and cry against my pillow as wave after wave of guilt washes over me. Fennec was in that wretched place, I know it. He’s in there and I can't get him out. And then an even worse thought pops into my mind.
Did he ask the Princess to lie just to keep me away from him?
I slam my fist down on the pillow and sob silently into my bed. He wanted to leave me that badly? He sold his freedom just to get away? I want to be reasonable and tell myself what I know to be true, but the crushing weight of hatred lays on me like a concrete blanket.
He left me. He left me after he promised he wouldn't have. He hates me just like everyone else.
I pant against my duvet covers. They’re stuffed with black downy feathers of a crow, a family heirloom. I cry harder.
I hate him.
But God do I miss him.
I miss his stupid smile and how he punches my shoulder when I don't laugh at his jokes. I start to feel even worse, clutching my stomach while I walk.
I throw up into the toilet, gagging on bile and spit. I'm struck with an overwhelming sense of doom. Everythings going wrong and I can't help but feel like everythings about to get so much worse. I want Fennec back. I want the Fennec who made me laugh and feel loved. I shouldn't be here without him.
My body still feels hot and feverish. I think I’m sick. I dry heave against the rim of the toilet and feel my body trembling. Tears start flowing and they don't stop. I'm sobbing against the bathroom floor with spit down my chin. My hair is sticking to my face and I hate it even more.
I stand up, wobbling knees taking me to my sink. I always keep a pair of scissors in my bathroom, just in case I need them.
Snip.
Lock after lock of my beautiful hair falls into the wet sink following my tears. I cut jagged sections from my bangs. I want to destroy it. I don't want anything to remind me of the past anymore. I don't want my old self to exist within these dead cells on my head.
I leave the ugly, uneven locks in the basin of the sink. I drop the scissors and hold my head in my hands. I'm shaking even worse now.
When I look in the mirror, my hair sits around the length of my ears. I must have cut at least two inches off. It's jagged, uneven and unruly but I have never looked more like myself than I did now with hollow cheeks and dark eyebags.
Exhaustion washes through me like waves breaching the shoreline. Today has been too much and I think I have had enough of it.
I fall back into my nest, head full of Fennec. I love and hate him. I want him dead but I want to be dead with him.
I want to understand what's going on and why my world is falling apart.
I need to go back to the castle.

My mother wakes me with a gentle brush on my forehead. I'm burning up. She looks at me with eyes filled with concern but I don't feel anything. My body is numb and my arms feel like lead weights. She kisses my forehead and a tear rolls down my face. She’s so beautiful.
My throat is dry and my lips are chapped. My chest heaves with heartburn and everything hurts so badly. She presses a damp towel to my forehead and pours something into my mouth. I swallow.
My mother is the only one who will ever be safe to me again. She’s the only one I can trust to keep me safe. The only one who won't abandon me or lie to me. Another tear falls.
She sits me up gently, rubbing my arms and murmuring to me. I lean against the frame of my bed. My mother strokes my hair.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Birdy, okay?”
I don't have the strength to nod. My mother holds scissors to my forehead and delicately trims my bangs. She evens out the ends of my new bob, keeping some of the messed up layers. She kisses my forehead.
“Short hair always suits you better.”
She stands up and walks to my doorway. There is a man standing beyond her. He is ghastly and pale and translucent. He is an alien like the Princess. I try to yell for my mother to be careful, but no sound escapes my throat. The man watches me.
His eyes are white and shiny like he went blind some time ago. His beard is patchy. His stare is vacant but observing. He's watching me.
I'm paralyzed with fear. I don't know who he is or why he's watching me. Why is another ghost inhibiting this household uninvited?
I squeeze my eyes closed shut. It is the only thing I can do to stop him from watching me; to stop feeling his gaze. I feel beads of sweat run down my face and I realise I'm freezing.
Mother returns with a warm liquid in a bowl pressed into my lap. I feel it before I open my eyes. Her face is rosy and her eyes are blue like the ocean. I've never seen the ocean but I’d like to. I’d like to visit the ocean with Fennec.
The longer I look at her face the less she looks like my mother. Her eyes turn pale and her face grows gaunt. Her jaw begins to stretch and I watch in horror as my mother turns into an unrecognisable horror.
Why is this happening to me?
Warm vegetable soup is pressed against my lips and I open my mouth to eat. I keep my eyes closed tight and I gulp at the soup. I'm too weak to fend off these monsters surrounding me. I'm defenceless. I'm vulnerable. I feel like a baby bird freshly hatched and being hunted by a wolf. I am scared.
I tremble and weep softly while warm arms wrap around me. No words are spoken as I’m held and hugged. When I inhale I smell fresh spices, curry and cumin and everything comforting. I lose myself in the smell of home. A warm hand brushes through my hair. For now, I am loved.
The woman leaves me. I do not know if it's my mother or not, but I am unharmed for now. Sleep comes back to take me.
There's a knock at my door. There's a knock at the house. The morning is bright and the light hurts my eyes. My legs feel raw and my body is cold. But there's knocking.
I hear my mother talking to someone. Someone who’s voice I recognize but I can not place. My head feels full and waterlogged. I think my ears are plugged and every sound is muffled.
I hear someone come upstairs. Mother says something about a friend coming to visit. When I open my eyes I see dark, oily heels on my bedroom floor with pale translucent skin.
The voice is monotone and feels like ice against my shivering body. I can't tell what they are saying. Something about something forgotten.
A hand places an item by my head. It's golden and it makes a small chine when it touches the floor. I smile.
Mother ushers the other away from me. Something about rest being needed.
I can't reach out my hand to touch the item, but I feel safer knowing it's here. I am a dragon protecting my hoard of treasure. I am in control and I’m stable. I am loved and I am rich.
I am the Magpie.

Chapter Text

I wake up with a strong iron taste in my mouth. My body is heavy but I can move. I shuffle to my feet while my head pounds angrily. I rub my eyes and take a step forward.
My foot hits something that makes a soft chime.
Fennecs bell.
I hazily remember the self-proclaimed friend who came to visit me in my weary state. I remember her cold and icy voice and I shiver. I need to go back to the castle.
When I leave my room my mother gets up and briskly walks to me, clutching me like a baby against her warm chest. I feel guilty for not feeling happy to be loved by someone so giving.
I feel numb. She strokes my hair and murmurs softly about how I scared her that night. I brush her off.
I spit the bile from my mouth and dig my palms into my eyes. I want to scream. When I move my mouth I feel my lips splitting and cracking against me. I'm struck with a feeling of heavy hatred.
I need to go back to the castle.
I stumble, half-delirious down the staircase to the main floor of my house. I trip on the steps and stumble over my feet. I hear my father laugh when I fall.
I need to go back.
I make my way towards the front door in my baggy nightshirt I don't remember putting on. I know my hair is a tangled mess but there are answers that I need that I can't get from home.
I swing open the door and am greeted immediately by a familiar voice.
“Hello, Magpie.” The Princess speaks in her ever-monotone voice. Startled, I took a step back feeling embarrassed to have her see me in this state.
“I thought I told you to call me Maggie.”
The Princess smiles beneath her elegant bird-mask. This close up I can see her perfect cupid’s bow a flushed pink against her pale skin. Her teeth are perfect and shiny-white like the rest of her. “I heard you weren’t feeling so well after your meal the other day, I came to check on you. Palace food can take some getting used to.” She speaks so eloquently I can't even zone out while she talks. “You left your bell on the couch so I brought it to you. It seemed awfully precious to you.”
“Fennec’s bell…”
“You two are such lovely friends. I envy your relationship, truly.” Her shiny white teeth sparkle as she smiles. “Such honourable citizens. Our nation is so lucky.”
“I need to go back to the palace. I have more questions.”
“.....Dressed like that..?” The Princess’s voice quips like she’s trying to hold back laughter. I run a timid hand through my hair.
“Hold on- How did you find my address? Were you waiting for me?”
“You better go get dressed, Magpie. The Queen is only in a good mood every so often and if you want answers you'll have to move quickly.” I sigh. “I’ll stand out here. Don't keep me waiting, please.”
I move half consciously like I’m being controlled by magic, all the way up to my room and closet. I wonder if the daughter outside put me into a trance.
I find my lucky cloak, the one I wear on bad days, and I throw on a simple dress. I slip back down the stairs and tug my boots on. I wave to my father as I leave the house.
“I like what you did with your hair, Magpie.” The Princess tells me when I come back outside. I scowl at her.
“It’s Maggie.”
The Princess takes off, leading me one step at a time back to her castle. But she doesn't take the path through the forest. Instead, she takes me along a route through the village, up a stone path to the back of the castle. She dallies at vendors booths along the markets, holding up and inspecting fresh fruit before handing over a coin and curtseying. It makes me gag how much of a royal she is.
If she wasn't born into the Corvae maybe she’d be a little more tolerable. At least she’s cute, I think to myself.
The more time I spend with her, the more I pick up on her bird-like qualities. The quirk of her head when she speaks, her sharp laugh and her skittish nature. She looked and acted almost identical to the crows we had around.
The clouds are grey and looming, a fitting atmosphere for a day like today. I'm still wobbly and unstable from my food poisoning, and still a little delusional. The Princess walks me through the big black metal gate to the Arce Corvum and takes me up the back path.
“Magpie, I know you seek answers but I’m unsure whether this will be of use to you. The Queen only tells so much.”
“Alright.” I roll my eyes. “Can you at least tell me what happens to the tributes?”
The Princess smiles beneath her mask. “They are put to good use serving the Popphagus, don't you worry.”
“What does that entail?”
“Important duties to widen their grasp of knowledge before becoming the ultimate sacrifice! It is an honourable and valued position to be a tribute and any citizen would be grateful to have the opportunity.”
My stomach drops. She sounds like she’s reading a script and in my heartI know I won't get more answers from her. The ultimate sacrifice? I suppose isolating yourself would be considered that, however I can't help but think of the worst.
“Magpie, your friend’s life was built for this moment. He was groomed and raised to become a talon of the Popphagus. He’s lucky, truly. The Queen knows what she is doing when she selects a tribute. She hosts the eyes of our Ever Watching God, the Popphagus speaks through her.”
I want to vomit. Listening to the Princess talk is only making things worse. I hate it. She talks like this vow of isolation is something to be desired, something to be treasured. Any ounce of feeling that wasn't burning hatred towards her was quickly dissipating in my mind
“You should’ve seen Fennec, Magpie. He looked so noble taking the vow before us. You would have been proud.” The Princess blubbers on, oblivious to the heat building in my throat. I feel like I'm going to burst out of frustration at any second.
“Princess, where is Fennec?”
“Not here, Magpie. Long gone by now.”
“Where is he?” I pressed. The Princess pursed her perfectly blushed lips.
“I don't think you understand. Perhaps a talk with the Queen would further your knowledge? Though I can't guarantee she’ll say more than I. Knowledge like this is forbidden to the Avis. Come now.”
The Princess pushes the great doorway open. I'm a little surprised she didn't call for help to open it. It doesn't even seem like she can think on her own, let alone act.
I follow her, my boots making heavy sounds every time they hit the ground. The quiet hallway is filled with shuffling noise, and I realise that there are no servants' insight in this part of the hall.
With a clearer mind I’m able to examine the hall more thoroughly. I can see dark paintings along the roof depicting romantic works of birds and humans. I see the creator of life, the Popphagus, feasting heartily on its prey. I see her children hatching from eggs, their growth and how they went to reproduce more and more crows and ravens until we had the raining population today. The floor is a dark wood with inscribed patterns of stars, moons and suns along them. By the entrance doors stand great arching windows of tinted glass that diffuse all light that comes in.
The Princess walks me down the hallway before taking a sharp turn towards a heavy looking door. Behind it stands a magnificent dark staircase that spirals up higher than I can perceive. The railings are painted black and curve into beautiful spirals and a ruby red carpet with antique looking designs spreads down the middle of the stairs. The Princess starts the climb to the first flight, her dress trails at her heels and she struggles to hoist it up. I note her sharp black heels with a black gem decorating them. I follow her.
On the first landing, she takes me down a corridor lined with portraits. Elegant and romantic artwork of previous kings and queens wearing their most regal masks and headwear. Jewellery that is so elegant and complex it's hard to even perceive the beauty of it. Every queen looks the same, long dark hair and a feather mask adorned with jewels and beads with a sharp black tiara on top. Their skin is pale and translucent, like ghosts contrasting against the dark background.
They're beautiful. I can't help but admire their elegance as I walk through the hallway, and the rich gilded frame that decorates each portrait. There’s hundreds of them, dating all the way back to the 15th century.
We reach a fork in the hallway and the Princess takes me left before turning and rapping on a door. The wood is carved so elegantly it doesn't look like anything a human could do. I have never been around such rich and gorgeous treasures before. I'm almost envious.
The door is opened by a short, round man with a curvy moustache. His tailcoat sways elegantly behind him and I am reminded of the tail feathers of a bird.
The Queen sits before me at her desk in front of massive arching windows that allow light to stream in. I'm almost blinded by the light compared to the dimly lit halls of the castle. The Princess bows and the servant gestures for me to take a seat. I sit feeling very under dressed.
The Princess leaves without a word. I'm left with the beautiful Queen in front of me. Her hair flows like a river down her shoulders and back. Her skin is translucent, looking like the light from outside is flowing through her. Her dress is beautifully beaded, by hand no doubt. Her mask and tiara are like those in the portraits outside.
The Queen taps her long black nails against the desk. She brushes aside some papers with important looking notes on them.
“I heard the palace food didn't sit well with you, Magpie. I'm sorry to hear that, I always forget the richness and delicate preparations we host that aren't typical to most households. Do forgive us.” Her voice is smooth and savoury like a knife spreading warm butter. My body tenses automatically when she speaks, listening to every note and syllable that rolls off her tongue. I am unable to respond, though I’m slightly offended by her comments.
“Princess Vira says you wish to discuss the fate of your friend Fennec, am I correct?” I nod my head sheepishly. “Speak, Magpie.”
“Where is he?” My voice shakes as I ask the question. I'm nervous in her majesty's presence. I see her smirk beneath the mask.
“Long gone, Magpie.”
“Where is he?” I repeat.
“Do you really want to know that bad? You won't be able to find him, or rescue him or whatever it is that you are thinking. He’s gone.”
“Where is he?” I feel my patience slipping.
“Hm. Why don't I tell you about the history of the tributes first? You seem to believe your friend is in danger or upset, and I don't need more rumours being spread. Sit back, Magpie. Get comfortable.
In the beginning, there was darkness that spread far and vast like a blanket of thick, black void. In this void, small vessels of rocks and asteroids lit on fire and became our stars. The stars weeped for they were scared of the dark, and from those tears they birthed the Earth.
The Earth was lonely for many centuries. It weeped and formed rivers. It's blood pooled to make oceans. The Earth sacrificed her life to have company. But the Void wasn't as cruel as some say.
The Void saw how lonely our Earth was. As a gift to the poor planet, the Void sent her daughter, a great black raven with many stars for eyes, big enough to make mountains cower beneath her. She was a great beast with a ferocious caw, but the Earth was happy to have a friend.
The Earth fed the Void's daughter with her own still-born children to show thanks to the sacrifice of the first born. The great crow feasted hungrily on trees and soil, but it was never enough to fill her great stomach. Seeing how hungry the daughter was, the stars sent their own children- what became humans today. These humans reproduced and created the most nutritious and vital meals for the daughter of the void.
And so, the Earth fed the Star’s children. The Star’s children fed the Void’s daughter. We are all children of the stars and it is our duty to feed the void, understand? For if we don't, the daughter would leave the Earth and all would flood in the Earths’ grief.
And so, the Corvae Royals formed to host ceremonies to appease the great daughter of the void. For millennia we have worshipped our Earth’s friend and the Void’s kindness. You know how the hierarchy of meat works, no? The smarter the animal the more valuable the meat is. But it is very hard to get enough meat daily to appease our starving God, no?
So the Void sent us the blood from her beating heart. Seven great pools of darkness to be sent to the most special and loyal households to help the Corvae in collecting food. Seven great pools to reside amongst the Star’s children to put food directly into our God. Are you following?”
I nod my head. I have heard this story a million times before, it is always spoken during the spring Festum Gulae when the baby crows start to hatch.
“So why do we need tributes, Magpie? Well, every one in seven of the Star’s children host a very special gene that impacts their brain. They are to be treasured and taken care of, and therefore they should not interact and be… Corrupted by the public, understand? These children are our tributes. We take them in, we raise them, we feed them and treat them like God’s. These children naturally have a higher IQ, making them superior to the other Avis, you see?”
I nod again, but I honestly wouldn't have picked Fennec if we were going off IQ alone.
“And because they are the superior children, they make awfully nice offerings to the Popphagus, wouldn't you say?”
I tilt my head. “What are you saying?”
“The tribute's lives are sacred and honoured. We pamper them and take very good care of them, but their greatness needs to be fostered farther. We take them to a very special place where their brains are expanded to their full potential and their mind's eyes are opened.”
“And then?” I ask.
“And then…. Well, they say the best way to worship a God is directly through their holy vessel. And Magpie, the Corvae are the holy vessel. So, in order to worship the Popphagus-”
“You consume the meat of the tributes.”
“Excellent, Dear. You would be correct.”
“So Fennec…”
“What do you think was served to you the other night, Magpie?”
“No, that doesn't make sense. You didn't have time to groom him between the time of him being selected and the time of the dinner. You’re lying.”
“The grooming of a tribute is a very time consuming process, Magpie, so we groom them prior to their selection in secret. Why do you think Fennec had so many after school commitments?”
“No- You’re lying.”
“And what reason would I have to lie? Fennec had known about his destiny for a very long time before Festum Gulae, it was more of a ritual of appreciation and recognition for the work he had put in.”
“No- no that’s not right-. That can't be true.”
“Your friend made quite the delightful tribute. Truly some of the best meat we have ever seen. You should be proud of him.”
I feel sick. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding. This is all wrong. The Queen is lying to me she has to be. I think I’m going to be sick.
Fennec is dead. Fennec is dead and was turned into a feast to which I enjoyed. It was sick. This whole ordeal was sick.
“I’ll leave you to process for now, Magpie. But you can't leave the castle after knowing this. This is sacred information, got it?” And with that, the Queen up and left. And I was alone in a bright room feeling very, very sick.

I clutched my head in agony. Guilt couldn't even begin to describe the horror I was feeling. I was gagging on the thick air of the room, blinded by the bright light that shone through the oversized windows.
I tried the door handle multiple times, but it was always locked. I was trapped. And I was trapped knowing I’d consumed the meat of my best friend.
I ate a fucking human.
My mind raced and my heart pounded. I paced around the stupid Queens room and kicked at her desk. I grabbed one of her books and tore the pages out of it. She killed Fennec. She killed Fennec and feasted on him.
But not only him. How many families were waiting for their loved ones to come home from the vow of isolation? How many families would never know their child was eaten by royalty.
It was fucking sick.
I sobbed quietly against my hands. It wasn't fair. Why me? Why Fennec? If I had just not been so curious maybe I wouldn't be faced with this agony. This guilt. This horror. It was too much.
Someone tapped on the door.
“Magpie, I just wanted to check in on you- I could hear thudding. Are you okay there?” It was the Princess’s sickly sweet voice. Why did she sound actually fucking concerned? This was the fault of her sick, vile family. This was all the royalties' fault. I didn't answer her. I didn't breathe or make any sort of sound. I could hear her outside the door waiting on me.
“I'm worried, Maggie. I don't want you to be injured.”
Yeah right. I cussed the Princess out in my head. I wanted to scream at her and fight her and take all my fury out against her elegant form. Hot tears boiled my cheeks as I cried.
“I'm going to open the door, okay?” The lock clicked. I didn't even have the will to run.
The Princess walked into the room, witnessing the torn up books and destroyed pristine energy that once accumulated in the room. I sat pathetically against the wall, sobbing with my head down in my lap. I listened to her heels click along the floor as she walked over to me. The Princess sat down beside me.
“Go away.” I hissed.
“I think you need me right now more than any of my duties. I'm not going anywhere.”
I felt horrible. Exhausted and scared and devastated. I can't stand this feeling. The Princess sat quietly beside me. I don't know what she was thinking.
“Why are you upset, Magpie? What did she tell you?”
I sniffled. “Fennec…”
The Princess tilted her head. “What about him?”
I lifted my head and glared daggers at her. “You made it sound like he was still alive? You said he was in a different place. You made me think he was okay. Meanwhile he was fucking digesting in my stomach? That’s not okay.”
Her eyes stared vacantly at me. I noted their downward tilt and how sad they looked. “Your friend made an honourable sacrifice. He’s been given the ultimate reward- released by worship. You should be proud.”
“You’re fucking sick.”
“I'm not sure I understand? I do not think I’m ill.”
“Your people feast on fucking flesh and you’re okay with that? You’re okay with eating your own species for the sake of worshipping some god?”
“But all animals eat their own species, their own neighbours and family. It's natural.”
“It’s horrific. You could’ve told me it was human meat before I dug in?”
“I thought you knew…” The Princess’s voice faded. “Your friend was born for this fate, it was decided by destiny. This is what he was made for.”
“No. He was made for a life of being friends with me. He was made to have kids and smoke cigarettes and get bad grades and be a teenage boy who would grow up. You robbed him of his future.”
“Few avis are born with these genes, Magpie. It would be a waste to let him age and rot.”
“It would have been natural, which this is fucking not.”
“But you’re the daughter of a Feeder? These sacrifices would be your duty one day.”
“At least I wouldn't live off human flesh?”
“So you’re okay with killing, but disposing of the flesh ethically and for the sake of our God is too far for you?”
“Yes. You’re disgusting and vile and I did not want to consume my best friend. That’s not fair.”
The Princess stayed silent. I could see her chewing the inside of her cheek. “It is blasphemy to speak like this against the Corvae. Magpie, this is our sacred duty. This is why we were put on earth. The gift of life should be savoured deliciously and remembered through a feast. This is how it’s always been.”
“I want to go home.”
“That can't be arranged. We're setting up a bedroom for you in the castle until the Queen figures out what to do with you.”
“I don't want to live with you freaks.”
“It’s really not that bad.”
“You’re sick. Even my home would be a better place to rot than this dump.”
“Alright. Shall I go? I don't wish to make you feel worse.” I didn't answer. I don't know what I want. It was nice having someone to vent to but the Princess was fucking oblivious and it was driving me crazy.
“Get out.” I told her. The Princess stood and hastily left, not saying another word or even looking at me. She locked the door on her way out and I was left alone with my thoughts and anger once again.

Chapter Text

The room was considerably less bright at this point in the day. I scoured the rest of the Queen’s office feeling no longer depressed but spiteful and restless. I looked through the Queen’s books, books depicting the history of crows and the spawn of the Popphagus. Entirely religious propaganda.
I found picture frames of black gilded metal holding images of two women standing side by side. They wore elegant bird masks I’d never seen before- beautifully hand beaded around the eyes and with large feathers that became crown-like around the top of the head. The woman to the left wore a blood red dress with a black shawl. The closer I looked the more disgustingly elegant the dress appeared. Beautiful black swirls trailed up the corseted top, black lace adorning her breasts, beautiful bell sleeves with fine black lacing around the cuffs. Her collar was ornate and looked like something a wicked queen would wear.
And God was she stunning. Beautiful brown hair in perfectly ringed curls. She looked like the beauty standard of our town, what every little girl wished to be.
It made me feel nauseous to know we idolised someone so horrific. Someone so elegant with such wealth who ate human flesh for the sake of it.
I grabbed the picture frame and smashed it on the floor, grinding the broken glass into dust with my heel.
I sat in the Queen’s royally carved oak chair with blush black cushions- no doubt stuffed with downy feathers. I put my dirty boots on her desk and kicked her pens off the table. I sat miserably, but so full of fury all I could muster was petty acts of destruction.
Finally, it seemed the Queen had enough. Or that she had remembered the angry resident now inhabiting her office. A servant came to the door, a young woman looking timid and cowardly.
“Uh- Ms. Hart… The Queen has drawn a bath for you. If you would-um- please follow me…” I could see the little girl’s eyes fluttering nervously beneath her plain black mask. I said nothing and followed her.
It was a touch awkward to be the only girl in the castle not covering my face, but I was sick of this stupid religion and it’s rules. We only had to cover ourselves on sacred days or in sacred spaces, and this temple had lost its holy atmosphere as soon as Fennec's flesh had touched my lips.
The girl led me down a hallway and through three arched doorways to a black-marbled bathroom with stained glass windows surrounding the massive bathtub in the centre. There was a white towel folded neatly and the servant left me by myself. I couldn't tell if she locked the door or not.
The stained glass was shades of red and black depicting bloody rain showers and crows dancing wildly. The steam from the hot bath made it slightly harder to breathe and I coughed while wiping the absurdly large mirror down with my arm. It sat looming over a pristine white sink with a gold-brass tap that looked even more absurdly out of place.
My sad reflection stared back at me beyond the sink. My wild, choppy hair was a disaster, baby hairs flying everywhere. My eyes were red and puffy and my cheeks were still tear stained. My lips were chapped and unattractive and I was surprised the Queen had offered to keep me despite how out of place I looked here.
The black porcelain bathtub called my name. I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a bath, showers had always been my preferred choice for cleanliness. The air smelled of cedar and earth and I was frankly very happy they hadn’t given me the Princess’s lavender shampoo.
I stripped down out of my cloak, my layered skirt and dress and my thin tights and muddy boots. I peeled off my thick leather gloves and crawled into the bath. A thick sigh of relief left my lips as I leaned back.
The bath was filled with fluffy bubbles that tickled my skin. There was a selection of forest-smelling soaps on the ledge but I was too distracted with the feeling of floating in pure bliss and warmth. It almost distracted me from the angst and rage I felt towards the crown.
If I lived like this, maybe I’d be more of a prick too.
I scrubbed the tears off my face and the dirt and knots out of my hair. I kicked the water and splashed around feeling like a little goldfish in the big warm seas. I felt like a kid at a summer swimming pool, so carefree and happy to float. I used to go all the time with Fennec after the sun had set.
Roses the size of my fists had been placed in the water adding a floral smell on top of the earthy musk that surrounded me. I closed my eyes and leaned back, losing myself in the peaceful bliss of cleanliness.
Feeling clean and refreshed, I stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around myself. I ran a comb through my short hair and shook it out against the mirror when a knock on the door stopped me.
“Only me, Magpie. You weren't the only one the Queen sent for a bath.” The Princess chirped as she stuck her head in to make sure I was decent.
“I'm just leaving.” I said, feeling the joy seep out of me.
“No rush, the water needs to be replaced anyways. I trust you enjoyed your time? You were in there for a while.”
I pursed my lips and went to gather my clothes when I realised something.
The Princess wasn’t wearing her mask.
I could see her face clearly, no veil or mask to hide behind. She wore a simple dress that fit loosely around her body and her hair was up in a bun. I took a step closer to her.
“Your face..”
“I didn't have time to grab my mask, I didn't realise you’d still be in here. Please excuse my manners.”
I felt my bare feet slide against the marble as I watched the Princess draw herself a bath. She has a perfect button nose and sad downturned eyes that were dark like night. She had a mole under her left eye that complimented her long eyelashes. Her eyebrows were thin and arched and she looked like a figure from a renaissance painting.
Her face was smooth and round and her lips were perfectly carved into her face. She looked like an ancient statue carved to perfection. She was absolutely stunning. My breath left my chest for a second. She was ethereal.
She reached up and untied her hair, letting it cascade down her back and shoulders. It had light waves to it just like her mothers.
“If you keep staring I’m going to feel embarrassed, Magpie.”
“Maggie.”
“Vira.”
“What?”
“My name, it’s Vira. You don't have to call me the Princess now that you’ve seen me unmasked.” She laughed softly and her smile nearly stopped my heart.
“Alright, Vira.” All resentment I felt towards her oblivion melted away. I felt at peace and oddly lulled by the beautiful girl before me. I took another step and clutched my clothes to my chest.
“There’s a servant outside who will take you to your room. Do join us for dinner? We will be having a beautifully cooked dolphin by our chef, it’s one of my favourites.”
I found myself agreeing before I even realised what I’d said. I felt like I was in a trance. I walked to the door and Vira bid me farewell as she lowered herself into the tub. I couldn't get the image of her face out of my mind.
The little girl from earlier squeaked when she saw me. She jumped to attention like she had been slacking off and I had just caught her.
“Right this way.” She trembled. I followed her brisk steps down the hallway to another heavy door. The little girl handed me a key. “The-The spare bedroom has been prepared for you. Please enjoy.”
I unlocked the door and stepped in, feeling sweet cool air hit my nose immediately.
My bedroom was the size of my entire house. The canopy over the bed was dressed with elegant black lace and looked like something a princess would sleep in. The windows had light-blocking curtains over them to make the room appear darker than it would be naturally. I hit a light.
The walls were painted with purple and red paintings of cherubs with dark black feather wings. The bed had red pillows with tassels made of the finest silk I’d ever seen. I fell backwards onto my bed. Being treated like this was almost enough to diffuse the anger I felt to the royalty. They treated me like a queen now, but I was almost positive I’d be up next for slaughter.
Beside me on the bed lay a beautiful black dress with a matching bird mask, both higher quality than anything I’d ever owned.
The dress had a low cut neckline that dipped deep enough for the top of my breasts to slightly spill out. The sleeves puffed out around my shoulders before slimming down into elegant lace sleeves that went ¾ of the way down my arms. The skirt of the dress was fluffy and coated in layers of tulle with elegantly beaded flowers sewn onto the hem.
I placed the mask over my face feeling the feathers scratch the sides of my cheeks. I took it off quickly, no need to wear it yet.
I looked around my room. A big black vanity sat in a corner with all different smells of perfumes and flavours of lipsticks. A little mobile of bird bones and glass hung before the mirror in front of me.
I looked at myself in the room of a princess. I didn't belong here. My skin wasn't translucent and I sure as hell was not devoting my life to serving the Popphagus. I looked like the opposite of royalty, maybe a stray peasant or troubled knight.
I dug through the drawers of the vanity, finding a collection of notebooks and pens. I wondered if the Corvae really were everwatching, ever observing us all. It’d explain how they got my dress size perfectly. Creeps.
I opened a notebook and wrote down what the Queen had told me today. I wrote down everything from Festum Gulae to where I was now. I wanted it all documented in case something happened.
Finally, the little girl knocked on my door and announced it was time for dinner. I put on my bird mask and followed her down to the dining hall where I had eaten previously. For such a large palace it was awfully barren and lonely. Part of me wondered how many others had been kidnapped from their home and brought here despite not being a tribute.
I sat at my spot at the table, the one beside the Princess. My heart pounded rhythmically in my ears as the King sat down in front of me, folding his hands and looking clean shaven.
They were an attractive family, if not evil.
The Princess and the Queen sat down shortly after. The Queen hosted a smug smile between her crimson painted lips and feathered mask. Vira turned and smiled softly at me which eased the anxious excitement coursing through me.
The Queen offered a cheer. “To new friends joining us.”
I didn't clink my glass with the others. I stared the Queen down through the eyes of my mask and imagined poisoning her goblet of water.
The servants brought elegant plates of meat served over a drizzle of yellow sauce. I wrinkled my nose before remembering Vira telling me it was only a dolphin. Not a meat I’d ever had before, too high quality for my peasantly tongue.
I hesitantly took a bite, feeling the earth flavour fill my mouth. It wasn't pleasant, per se, but I watched as Vira continued to wolf down her plate like a starving crow. I covered my mouth so they didn't see me laugh.
I saw the chef hesitantly peek their head into the dining hall. They had short chopped hair and a typical white chef’s hat. They scribbled down a note in their little paper pad before hiding away from the family.
I wondered what it was like to work for such a horrid, pristine family.
I finished the meat on my plate, feeling sheepish for not enjoying it as much as the others. When my plate was taken away, Vira turned to me.
“Have you ever tried quail eggs?” She asked. Her voice had a little more life to it when she talked this time around.
“No- We don't eat eggs in the village.”
“Oh Maggie, you must try Chef’s eggs! They're simply delectable.” Vira rung a bell that sat on the table and sure enough, servants came scurrying out with a variety of small oval objects I identified as eggs.
I never had eggs in my life.
I sunk my teeth into the white, gummy oval surprised at the mushy texture. I chewed while watching Vira enjoy her second egg. In the centre, a thicker yellow paste sat which tasted thicker and more buttery and savoury than the outer part.
Out of the corner of my eye I watched Vira’s eyes on me while I ate this new sensation. She seemed quite content.
“You two have certainly become good friends.” The Queen stated and shocked me out of my temporary amusement.
“Have we?” I snarled back. Vira gave me a sad look.
I finished my egg and headed back to my room, not waiting for any servant to accompany me. I needed to get out of this luxurious hell.
I fell back on my plush bed with the great overarching canopy. I was being treated like real royalty and it was a little overwhelming. So many new foods and rules. I hated it.
I need to get out of here. I need to go back to the village and tell Fennec’s family what happened. I need them to know so they don't wait for Fennec to come home.
I doubt the Corvae would let me send a letter.
I stripped out of my elegant dress and placed the mask on the vanity. In the huge walk-in closet I found some silk clothing with a vague resemblance to pyjamas. They were the most expensive looking pyjamas I’d ever touched.
I crawled under the cold covers of my bed and thought of my poor mother at home. I was sure the Queen would send something explaining what happened to me, but I was still worried about her. I missed her gentle eyes.
When sleep took me, I dreamt of a memory of my mom and I when I was little. I dreamt of us playing in a field of goldenrods with the autumn trees giving up their leaves around us. I dreamt of a happy, safe place with no cannibalistic royalty who were almost positive to eat me next.
And I was happy, and content, and perhaps a bit melancholy with the feeling of longing for a time never to return.
Sleep was such a blessing and a curse.

Chapter Text

I awoke to a gentle chiming in my ear, a gentle breeze flowed through my room and for a second I was at peace, forgetting where I was. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through gently and my stomach growled.
I stood and walked myself down to the dining hall to find a buffet of breads and pastries splattered all over the table. Some of the servants were still eating and I greeted them good morning. They looked panicked, but finished their food before scurrying away.
I sat in the Queen’s spot this morning. I was sick of feeling like I wasn't in control. I took a cheese-danish off the platter that was the size of my hand. Sweet cream cheese filled my mouth between bites of fluffy, buttery pastry. Mother could only dream of baking like this, her bread felt like rocks to the teeth in comparison.
I ate alone for my meal. I tucked a few more bread buns into the pockets of my nightgown before slipping away back to my room.
I needed to get out of here. I needed to escape. Time was running out, surely they were only fattening me before my slaughter. I wondered if Fennec received the same treatment. I wondered what his slaughter had been like.
I thought of Fennec and his shaggy brown mullet. I missed his chipped teeth and his awkwardly placed moles and I missed his sharp laugh that sounded like a fox's cry. I thought of the dead fox in the forest who turned to brittle dust. I thought of my trinkets at home and my safe nest and I yearned to see my family. I missed my mother.
It was a contradictory situation. I could run away, become a jail-bird quite literally, live the rest of my life hiding and seeking refuge as a miserable adult. Or I could stay, I could live like a queen and suffer knowing my inevitable demise was at the hand of the people who fed me. Either way, I am a dead man.
I place the bread on my vanity before slipping back beneath the covers, still cold with morning air. A new outfit was placed on the doors to my closet, presumably what I would be asked to wear for the day's activities, whatever they may bring.
After what feels like a few minutes, my eyelids begin to droop when I hear a knock on the door. They don't wait for an answer though, I listen to the door open as they walk in.
“I'm sorry I missed breakfast, Maggie. The Queen had something she wanted to talk with me about. Do forgive me, I hope this does not ruin our friendship.” Princess Vira’s voice is soft and melancholy, she sounds abnormally tired.
“No offence taken.” I responded sleepily. The Princess plopped herself down on the foot of my bed, completely oblivious to my need for privacy.
“I was thinking, there’s so much you have yet to experience. So much that I grew up with, like eggs for example, that you have never tried.”
“Really? How fascinating.” I let the sarcasm seep into my voice, but Vira continues on.
“You’ve never been jousting, or fencing or even seen the great gardens. It’s truly a shame, honestly. Which is why today I have decided you will play my role as princess!”
“What if I don't want to.”
“I'm not sure you have a choice, Magpie. You wouldn't want the Queen to put you to work now? I'm sure that'd be much less fun.” There was a sharp tone to her voice that sounded dangerous. I decided to let the decision slide. I'd be a frilly pretty princess for the day if it made Vira happy.
“First, let's get you an outfit.” She gestured to the outfit on my closet door. “These uh… well, these are not regular standard linens.”
I rolled my eyes and swung out of the bed. “What shall I wear today, My Lord.”
“Maggie, you only have to call me Vira in the safety and privacy of our own spaces.”
“Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
I think Vira rolled her eyes but I can't quite tell. She grabs my arm. “Let’s pick something from my closet.”
The Princess practically dragged me from my room, holding so tightly to my arm I thought it might leave bruises. Three hallways to the left sat a more intricately carved door than anything I’d seen so far. A magnificent “V” was burned onto the face of the door. Vira opened it with a push and I noted the bells surrounding her room and bed, just in case Her Excellency needed a servant. I scoffed.
Vira’s room was a nice emerald green colour with dark trees painted across the trim. Birds fluttered through the forests of her home and I admired her own canopy covering her bed with flowers and butterflies. Her room smelled strongly of cedar and wood, a nice warm and wet smell that made my head happy.
Vira opened her closet and began to dig through it. I stood, not knowing if it was appropriate for me to sit without her permission. The princess began to pull out clothing and toss it over to me. All I could decipher were sheets of black elegant cloth and maybe silk flying around my head.
Finally, the Princess seemed content and wandered over to me holding a few more articles of clothing. I took them and she smiled before removing her veil.
“I think this would suit you marvellously, Maggie. Try it on for me, would you? I’ll find something for myself”
I smiled at her beautiful unsheathed face. It was impossible to say no to her. I opened up the fabric I carried in my arms to find a beautiful knee length gown with a thick petticoat to puff out the skirt. The shoulders were open but there were thick straps against my collarbones that connected to sleeves that formed gloves.
I moved to the side and stripped while Vira searched her own closet. The dress felt like the lightest tickle on my skin, surprisingly comfortable for something so elegant. The gloves were fingerless, just wrapping around my middle finger. I fingered my hair back out of my face and stared into the mirror. I don't think I’d ever looked so put together and, well, hot before.
When I turned back around, my breath left my lungs completely.
Vira wore a tight corset with a short skirt that sat at her mid thighs. She wore stockings that sat around her knees and a tight lace overshirt with long bell sleeves and a collar around her neck. I choked on my own saliva.
“Maggie, would you come tighten me?”
I nodded, wading over and grabbing the laces of Vira’s corset and pulling. I pulled until Vira told me to stop, and when I looked I could wrap a single arm around her entire waist.
“What do you think?” She smiled. Vira didn't have a noticeable amount of breast tissue, but like this her body looked entirely different. Not wanting to make a fool of myself I simply nodded. “You look nice too, Maggie.”
I swallowed thickly feeling slightly embarrassed. My cheeks were flushed and I couldn't stop staring at her. She had yet to straighten her hair so it framed her cheeks and face perfectly. Her sad eyes glistened in the sun and her lips naturally were quite rosy. She was beautiful.
She turned away from me and moved to her bedside table, retrieving a pill bottle and taking one. She smiled at me.
“Estrogen pills, my body doesn't naturally produce enough.”
I nodded at her, entranced by her milky white hands moving so elegantly. She was graceful in everything she did. Even if she fell, she would do it beautifully. She was jaw-dropping.
“Does the Queen ask you to take them..? You know, so you appear more womanly?” I asked, trying not to sound rude.
Vira’s eyes sparkled at me. “I take them because I want to. The Queen doesn't care about my gender, so long as I follow our religious rules. I am sacred, the holy daughter, it just feels more right.”
I nod again. I had always wondered if the Queen would force a daughter if she had a son, but I suppose it's up to the child.
“Are they… Happy you’re a girl?”
“They have made it clear they’d be happy no matter who or what I am. Either way I continue the bloodline and their legacy. It’s more for my comfort and well being than theirs.”
I smiled at her. It was touching to see how confident in herself and her identity she seemed. She would make a beautiful queen one day.
We put our veils on.
Vira led me down the back staircase behind the kitchen, all the way out to their great garden. Servants buzzed about, pruning and watering every different plant I could see for miles on end. There were more vegetables here than I could name.
Carrots and beets and potatoes and something called an “eggplant” which hosted a dark purple colour. Every plant was well fed and taken care of by more servants than present in the village. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were grown isle after isle inbetween stone paths.
Vira turned to a bright pink flower before cutting it and handing it to me.
“Cute.” She said under her breath.
I tucked the flower behind my ear and grabbed a small cherry tomato off the brush beside me. I popped it in my mouth and savoured the slightly sweet but still earthy and bitter taste. It felt nice on my tongue.
“Does your father take care of the garden?”
“Hm? Ah, you mean the King. Yes, most days he tends to the garden with the servants. He has been known to help the Chef with meal preparations too. Majority of the time, he deals with civil affairs while the Queen communicates with other villages.”
“Other villages?” The thought hadn’t really crossed my mind, I kind of just assumed we were all one village under the rule of one queen.
Vira didn't respond, she had crouched down and was fiddling with a small red bug with black spots that was sitting on a leaf. We didn't have many bugs as the bird population was so high, it was rare to see one like this.
“A ladybug.”
I crouched out beside her and let the bug flutter onto my hand. We made eye contact and I laughed softly. “I think she likes me.”
“I want to show you something, Maggie.”
I tilted my head and followed her as she stood. She led me to a sheltered greenhouse covered in vines and flowers. She led me inside and the thick smell of florals filled my nose.
Hundreds of butterflies scattered with the sudden movement of the door, creating a multicoloured cloud fluttering wildly. I gasped.
“I've never seen so many before-”
“The King breeds them and then raises them. They're his passion. In his office he has all different kinds of plaques showcasing every butterfly that passes. Incredible, isn't it?”
I watched in awe as they settled back onto the flowers, continuing their peaceful existence.
“Beautiful.”
All different species of butterflies of all different colours, flapping their beautiful wings and drinking nectar so peacefully. I envied them.
When I was done admiring them, Vira took me back out to the garden before sitting down beneath a large old oak tree.
“When I was younger I spent a lot of time out here. It was much nicer to be out here than the room I was stuck in.”
“Oh? What do you mean?” I sat beside her.
“When I was younger, the Queen and King kept me in a small room in the basement for my studies. I watched projected videos teaching me how to dance like I was trained for ballet, I read many books about my religions and books about manners and etiquette. I wasn't allowed to see other people, as I was holy and sacred and they would corrupt my purity. So the only interaction with living things besides other royalty, were the birds in the courtyard and the butterflies the King kept.” She gestured sadly to the murder of crows pecking idly at the ground in front of us. I felt oddly empathetic to her.
“I was also isolated growing up, though I suppose it was different circumstances. I was demonised over being idolised.”
“What do you mean?”
“The children of the village hated me as my house burnt down in a freak accident. Well, you know how we feel about fire.”
Vira shuddered. “The Queen preaches fire safety and how it's a sin for meat to be seared or cremated, yet the castle is a walking fire hazard.”
I laughed. “Yeah, what’s with that? Most of the village uses electrical lighting instead of candles now, I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to switch the castle over.”
“We are meant to respect the traditional ways of life, it would be wrong to host a more modern castle. The Arce Corvum is a symbol of legacy, not one to be changed.”
I wrinkled my nose but turned to admire the great castle again. To the left, I noticed a cemetery. I nodded at it, “who’s that for?” The village had our own cemetery at the edge of town. I was familiar with it since my father was the funeral director.
“All my ancestors are buried there. One day, I will be too.”
“You seem quite relaxed over the thought of death.”
“I'm royalty, I am a leaf upon a tree turning red with age before my death. It's natural. It's only a matter of time.”
“When it's my turn, will you feast upon my corpse?”
“I pray your turn does not occur any faster than what’s natural.”
That was comforting. Slightly.
We sat in silence admiring the beauty of the garden and the surrounding courtyard. The gate to the outside loomed tall and geometrical amongst the organic shapes of nature.
“Do you wish you could have grown up in the village?” I asked.
“I never thought about it.” She tilted her head.
“Are you able to leave the kingdom when you please?”
“No. The Queen must know where I’m going and the approximate time it will take. If I didn't report back in some way, she or some poor servant would come searching for me.”
“Do you think about running away?”
“Why would I run away?” Vira looked confused towards me. “I have everything I could ever need or want here. Why would I want to leave?”
“Aren't you curious about the world beyond?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“From what I’ve read, our land seems the most peaceful out of the seven nations.”
“Seven nations?” I repeated.
“One for each god, don't you know?”
I shook my head. We never learned about anything outside of our village. I grew up thinking this was all there was to life.
“Well, there are seven gods. The god of pride, the god of lust, the god of greed, envy, wrath, sloth and ours, the god of gluttony. Each god was born on this earth in a different way, creating each of our civilizations.”
“So why don't we learn about them? Why don't we communicate.”
“I don't think you understand, Maggie. We are the most peaceful of all the nations, you can not communicate civilly with those barbarians. We have tried.”
I huffed. My mind began to wander, “Can you tell me about the other nations?”
“Well, the closest nation to us is the Sloth god’s and so they are who we communicate with most. Here-” Vira drew a circle on the ground with her finger, before splitting it in half. “This is our Earth, this is the habited land and this is the inhabited. This is how our nations are divided.” Vira drew seven slices along the top side of the circle. “And here,” she pointed to the second last slice, “Is where we are.”
“To the right of us, Sloth inhabits. To our left, Wrath inhabits. Let’s just say, it's near impossible to communicate with Wrath, so Sloth is our natural partner. For Wrath, their god is the Ira Viri who is depicted as a large, black wolf. Sloth’s god is the Dormio who is depicted as a great black cat with planets for eyes.”
“How do you worship the god of sleep?”
“Well, it’s a little complicated, but think of how we worship the Popphagus and imagine explaining that to someone else. Dormio’s nation is wracked with a curse of insomnia, they are only permitted to sleep on holidays as it’s viewed as too sacred for every day participation. As you can imagine, it’s quite stressful at times to go weeks without sleeping. They have stimulants and drugs they ingest with their food to keep their sleep schedule intact.”
“Do they know about us?”
“The royalty, of course. Quite lovely folk honestly, but I am not sure about the civilians. If you didn't know about them I doubt they’d know about us.”
“Fascinating. What about Wrath?”
“The Ira Viri, yes, well, they worship anger, not so much violence however… well… they’re more violent than us. I have never personally communed with one but I heard rumours of silver teeth being implanted into babies mouths when they’re young, and they are encouraged to fight and well… To put it bluntly- rip their opponents neck out.”
I shuddered. There were more worlds out there? More people than just the sick worshippers of the Popphagus? For the first time in a while, I felt a little hopeful. Maybe I could run away and live somewhere not so cannibalistic in nature.
“Have you ever wanted to go?” I asked.
“Yes and no. Wherever you travel, it's only expected for you to obey each religion's practice. However, it’s not what we're accustomed to and it can be hard to adjust to the culture shock.”
“It’s fascinating. I'd like to know more if you'd allow me?”
“Tomorrow, come to my room and I’ll give you the books I grew up studying. I'm sure there's many things you could learn.”
I nodded. It was late in the afternoon now but the sun was still high in the sky. I wondered if the citizens looked at the same sun as me.
It was a lot of information to process all at once. Six other nations? Six other God’s? People more insane than us? I was oddly fascinated, if not perturbed by this information.
Not to mention, the uncharted and inhabited land. What could be beyond there? We were told stories and rumours as a kid about what happened within the forests of the land, but no one knew why it was inhabitable
I would have a lot of reading to catch up on later if I was going to wrap my head around this. But that could wait for tomorrow.
For today, I was a princess with Vira.

Chapter Text

For the second half of the day, Princess Vira taught me how to fence. It was mildly terrifying having never even touched a sword, but she seemed to think I did okay.
It started with her showing me the correct form to take, a hand behind my back and a lunge forward. She laughed as she parried my sword perfectly, matching every beat no matter how slick I thought I was. I found myself winded oddly fast so we called it a day.
The night came and went, dinner was served and I was more aware this time of how rarely cooked the meat they served was. My stomach was slowly growing accustomed to the luxury of royal food. I gave up trying to ask what meat we were eating, it seemed better not to know whether it was human or not.
Being around the Queen made me acutely aware of the danger I was in. Her gaze felt like lasers into my skin, scrutinising my every move. She seemed to smirk when I caught her glaring. The way she licked her fork sent shivers down my spine.
Vira couldn't talk to me in front of her parents. It always ended with them interrupting to ask about Vira’s studies. She was focusing on geography and civil rights which was interesting to listen to, but not when the Queen kept butting in to correct Vira’s facts.
The King often seemed oblivious and spacy when conversations didn't involve him. I caught him staring at the ceiling and muttering to himself once while he was eating. He seemed distant.
When night finally came, I didn't go back to my room. I wanted to tour the castle properly. It was my prison, why shouldn't I?
I started on the first floor, I opened every unlocked door and made a mental tab of what I found. There wasn't much on this floor besides a dining hall and a massive ballroom with five different entrances on one side.
However, there was an exit to the outside world on both sides of the castle. Neither were heavily guarded as far as I could tell.
The second floor hosted Vira’s and my bedroom, the Queen's study, the bath room and a miniature library with bookcases taller than me. I found the back stairwell again, which took me down to the kitchen. The third floor was more interesting however. The Queen and King’s bedroom was on this floor, as well as the King’s study. This floor had a master bath that looked like an indoor pool. It was a little sickening how privileged they were.
The fourth floor was the servants' living space so I decided not to bother them. I found another staircase that led me up to the fifth floor. This floor was made up entirely of a library, a smooth steady jazz wafting through the air as towers of books and papers and quill scattered every corner. There were multiple green couches which contrasted against the dark brown wood of the library surfaces. The ceiling was panelled glass which I could see the moon and stars clearly through. They even had a telescope set up for star gazing.
The turrets contained more rooms but I wasn't interested in climbing the stairs for more junk. Even the basement door was locked. I tried to bang on the door or break it down but to no avail.
I returned quietly back to my bedroom. I was positive there were secret passages littered throughout the castle, it was just about finding them.
The halls were eerily quiet. Goosebumps bloomed along the back of my neck as I tiptoed as quietly as I could. Something was going on.
I held my breath as I walked to the Queen’s study, I could hear aggravated voices beyond the door.
“What do you mean you told her about the other nations? What is wrong with you?” The voice was agitated and loud, she sounded like she was made for screaming like this.
“She deserves to know, My Lady. She didn't know anything about them.”
“And why do you think that is? Don't you think there's a reason I wasn't telling the villagers? You just doomed her, Vira. That's what you did. You ruined her life by meddling in something you weren't supposed to meddle in and now look at what’s happened.”
I listened quietly to the Queen and Vira argue. I could hear a shake in Vira’s voice while she spoke.
“She deserved to know. They all deserve to know there's an entire world out there. What else aren't you telling them? Don't you think that’s unfair?”
“When you’re Queen you’ll understand why no one can know. I'm done speaking with you. Leave.”
I backed away from the door as I heard the Princess’s footsteps approaching. I bolted down to my room but stood outside it, hoping to catch a glance of Vira.
I saw a dark figure move slowly to Vira’s room. I heard the faint sound of sniffling and wondered if I should have comforted her.
It was too late now. Vira had slipped into her room.
I fumbled into my room and stripped down and into my nightgown. A roll of bread from prior was still on my vanity so I decided to have it. I opened my window to let in a cool breeze. A crow squawked sadly outside my window so I tossed it a piece of bread. My window overlooked a small ledge so I sat on the windowsill and dangled my feet in the night air.
It was much too far to jump, unfortunately. The tall ceilings of the first floor made it so that any escape attempt without a rope would be futile, if not a suicide mission.
I didn't want to accept the fact my death would be coming sooner than I hoped.
I'm young, I'm 17, almost out of highschool with promises of keeping up my mother and fathers work as a doctor and funeral director. Truly, my favourite parts were the apothecary pieces of the work. I loved mixing herbs for my mothers medicine and learning about each plant’s properties.
Honestly, I had hoped to get a house of my own. In an ideal world where I wouldn't have to be the feeder, I’d live with maybe a husband or a wife, someone I could love and who could love me. I'd make our own wine and bake stale bread the way my mother taught me. I'd go to markets and buy fresh fruit to share with my lover. It was the simple pleasures of being alive that I’d miss most.
Maybe I’d grow to love the smell of lavender.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was looking forward to developing my own independence away from my own family. We had enough saved up that I could buy a house. Most professions were passed down by family, but if I found someone willing to teach I could’ve expanded my skills in more areas.
I missed the village. I missed their sneers and their snickers and their obvious hatred of me. I missed their life and their rough attitudes and the rocky pain in the ass it is to be poor.
I do not belong in this castle.
I missed my mom most, however. I missed her auburn curls and her gentle laugh. I missed her hugs and her warmth and her love. I hope I can at least say goodbye to her before I die.
The Queen wasn’t happy with me. Now I knew too much and it would be dangerous to let me go, even if there had been a chance earlier on. Maybe if somehow I could escape, I’d visit the other nations. I was curious to see their way of life and why it seemed so forsaken to commune with them. Maybe we could swap horror stories about what we do for worship.
I watched the inky night sky and counted the stars. I hoped Fennec had become a star after his death, I know he would’ve liked watching life from above.
My heart ached. I missed him so badly.
Tears flowed down my face as I remembered his laugh and his smile. I missed his gentle touch and how caring he was. It wasn't fair why he was taken and I wasn't. I would’ve made a better sacrifice anyways.
I spun around from my sill and closed my window before slinking back over to bed. Today was fun but I had about enough of it.

Dawn came sooner than I was prepared for. It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when the beginning tendrils of light began to stream in and I was up at Vira’s door. I knocked gently and she answered within seconds, her eyes bloodshot and wide.
“I've been reading.” She states.
“About what?”
“What we talked about made me think about the different nations and why we didn't communicate with them. So I’ve been looking excessively into the God Of Sleep’s history, how he came to be and more on how the people worship him.”
“Interesting. Go on?” Vira led me into her bedroom and we sat on her bed now covered in tattered looking books.
“The god Dormio is represented as a cat, right? So his followers are called the Felis. Dormio was also born from the void, but for the purpose of Earth working too hard in her production. The Earth was overwhelmed with stress so the Void gifted Earth the God Of Sloth to put some things to rest. It is one of the youngest gods that I’ve seen in the lore.
Our Gods are siblings, but the majority of them don't get along due to the nature of what they believe in and what our culture states. In theory, one would think the God Of Gluttony and the God Of Greed would get along because of their similarities, right? But it's the opposite actually. Greed is the desire of materialistic items whereas we are the indulgence of these items. Think of it this way, Greed fights to have multiple people ruling at all times, they produce and produce for materialistic value, but we consume.
In the very early days, the God Of Greed and the Popphagus worked together, balancing production and consumption, but when our desire to produce and consume was too overwhelming for the Earth to handle, the Void sent Dormio to even it out. Are you following?”
I blinked slowly. “Do you mind if I get some paper? It might help to write this down.” Vira nodded and handed me a pad and quill that resided under her pillow.
I jotted down God Of Greed makes, God Of Gluttony consumes, God Of Sloth relaxes. Got it.
“Here's where things get more complex. The Gods overlap an awful lot. Gluttony matches with greed which matches with lust which matches with pride which matches with wrath and so on, they all connect. So while we all worship different Gods, yet at times we are worshipping the same idea.
The Dormio, sometimes called the Ever-Sleeping one, is the worship of dreams and prophecy, but it also falls into the desire to produce the way the Cupere, the God Of Greed, does. Since they view sleep as sacred, they stay awake for days at a time producing and working as much as possible. Saturdays become their day of worship where they spend the weekend lounging, sleeping and resting as an offering to the Dormio. They have special festival days where they take relaxants to fall asleep for days at a time as an offering as well, on top of the cat related worship the way we worship birds.
Apparently, their town is ever shrouded in darkness. It is always night there which makes it hard to make food produce, hence why they’re allies with us.
Now here’s where it gets very interesting, since we supply them with food; vegetables and meats and grains they can't harvest themselves, they supply us in the form of gifts or prophecies and dreams. So there is both a knowledge exchange occurring, and it's the reason we have such vivid and realistic dreams at times. We have prophecies because the Dormio blesses us, isn't that crazy?”
The notes on my sheet are scribbled and frantic as I try to make sense of what Vira is telling me. It doesn’t help the way she's bouncing back and forth in topics while she rambles, it was harder than a usual lecture to follow.
But the allyship makes a lot of sense. Most of the citizens within the village are accustomed to prophecies, vivid dreams and nightmares like were truly living in them. Pieces were falling into place in my brain as I began to grasp what she was saying.
“What about the other Gods? What do you know about them?”
“Not much- the most I’ve gotten so far is what I’ve told you. I did find their names however. The Amasius is the God Of Lust which incorporates the desire to reproduce as well as the value of intimate relationships. The Exaltatio is the God Of Pride, surprisingly there isn't a lot of information about this one but the followers seem to worship the god by proving themselves better and holier than the God itself. There's also The Invida which is the God of Envy. This worship is a little harder to explain because it focuses on the concept of giving yourself up fully to fate and identity. It's almost like a giant hive mind of jealousy and inferiority.”
I nodded and added that to my note as well. “How long have you been up, again?”
Vira smiled sheepishly, “I haven't slept in two days.”
“Mm, yeah I can tell. You lost your Royal Accent.”
Vira laughed softly. “I'm quite tired. Would it be okay if I slept while you read?”
“Go ahead, you deserve it.”
The Princess wiggled herself under her covers and hid away in her cosy duvet.
I turned to the ancient books surrounding me. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe '' I said under my breath as I picked a book to dig into.
I sat and flipped through the book. It was overwhelming to try and understand every God at once, so I decided on focusing on one at a time. I was curious about our relationship with Wrath and what it could be.
The Ira Viri, God of Wrath, The Ever-Angered one depicted as a great black wolf.
I found an entry in the book detailing the description of the wolf. He was fierce with fangs too big for his mouth and claws too sharp. He was built quite angularly and his eyes always seemed angry. I could feel his hatred and gaze even through the novel pages.
Vira tossed beside me in her bed. I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned to me.
“The Queen hates you,” she said.
“I know.”
“You can't stay here.”
“I know…”
Vira sounded genuinely upset. I knew I was her only friend, if that's even what you could call us. In a different situation or a different life, maybe we would have had more time together. Maybe we could have experienced different things, not just a relationship built off hate and desperation.
“I've had fun with you, Maggie. Maybe it’s selfish, but I want you to stay. Even though it's dangerous I don't want you to leave.”
“This is all just a fucked up game, Vira. Either way I’m a dead man. I don't know what choice I have.”
Vira’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe this is far-fetched; however, when the next royalty in line selects a partner to marry, the partner is bestowed with the knowledge you have learned. If the partner chooses, they can opt out for death, or they can stay and get married. I know that might be a lot of pressure however…”
I looked at her. “I have enjoyed spending time with you, Vira, really I have. You’re stunning and funny and sweet and we are a good team. But you don't know me. I don't think you understand what it would mean to spend the rest of your life with me. And, I’d become the thing I’ve come to hate. I don't want to live my life eating human flesh, murdering and making deals with people my citizens can’t know exist. The royalty is a cruel luxury I was not born to be in.”
Vira’s face was saddened. I could see tears forming in her eyes. She mumbled a soft response before turning back over and facing away from me. My heart plummeted.
It wasn't that I didn't love being around Vira at all. Any other place we’d be in I’d agree to be with her. But it was cruel to make her fall for someone who could never be happy as a queen. Someone who would hate everything she stood for. It wouldn't be fair to her at all.
I listened to Vira’s soft sniffles. I felt horrible. I wanted to stay with her, to see her learn and grow, to be happy with her.
“You could run away with me?” I offered. “What if we hid somewhere together?”
Vira didn't respond. I dropped the topic.
Happiness was never something that could come easily for me. That was just the life I had been given.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered before turning back to my book.

Chapter Text

Vira was distant from me for the rest of the day. I left her room shortly before the Queen would rise, tucking her books into a neat stack with some of the notes I’d made. I felt terrible.
Vira was naive and oblivious. I knew she didn't have relationship experience, romantic or platonic, and it was unfair to judge or criticise her, but it was overwhelming to think about marriage when your life was on the line.
Surely she had to understand this. Surely she had to understand that even though I could love her, I could never love the royalty. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I became the very thing I now despised. The thing that betrayed me, kept secrets and lies. The thing that killed the people I cared about and had me feast on their remains. I could not live a life of murder surrounded by privilege. That wasn't me.
I needed to apologise to her. She was upset and I understood her feelings. I didn't want her to think I was abandoning her or that I didn't want to be around her. It wasn't her that I hated.
It was a fucking tragic fate and of course it would happen to me.
I ate alone for breakfast.
I had better things to worry about than a princess upset with me. At least that’s what I told myself. I needed to figure out how I would get out of here. I was running out of time.
It was life or death, and if I was going to get out of here I had to do it right. I needed to visit the library.
I climbed the flights of stairs scattered around the castle until I found the one for the fifth floor. Library air wafted down my throat; the sweet smell of moulding books. The library was bright enough I didn't have to light a lantern, and I was able to scour the library by its sections.
I found a book on world geography. I took a scrap of parchment paper that lay in odd piles around the room, and using a gold-tipped quill I scrawled the notes I remembered, and was finding.
I started to draw a map of the village. I drew the Arce Corvum, my house, the forests, the market space and the school. There were other towns surrounding us that participated under the same god and the same queen, just a different school and some other facilities. My family took me to visit one year when we had nothing else to do for the holidays. It was pretty boring.
I flipped open the atlas before me and began to make notes on where I lived within this map of the entire nation. It was quite massive. According to this book, we had 70 million people living within our slice of the earth. Even if I ran to a new village, I wouldn't escape the Queen’s watchful eyes.
We lived in the central-most area of the nation; what could be called the “capital”. There were large boundaries surrounding each side of our civilization where no one lived. Based on the scaling, it was not something I could walk across easily or quickly.
But as I mapped, I began to think to myself. What if there never was a God?
I grew up knowing I was born to feed this God and being told it existed and having biannual festivals, but what if it was all just a ploy for the royals to get away with their behaviour? What if it all started a cruel joke we've all been sacrificed into? There was no proof the Popphagus existed, there was nothing even saying anyone had seen her. It was all just word of mouth telling tales to one another.
I couldn't focus. My heart pounded faster.
If the Popphagus never existed, what has my father been doing with the organs he’s been collecting?
My blood ran cold and my mind scrambled. All those times he came home with higher quality meat excited for us to indulge in a treat… What if it was all just human flesh? What if I’ve grown up and been raised on the flesh of my own kind without realising it? How many others knew this was going on?
How could they allow something like this?
It wasn't fucking natural. I grew up listening and following the moves and words of the Corvae Royals but I would never voluntarily eat human flesh.
My mind turned blank with anger. I could barely focus on the map in front of me.
Everything I’d known growing up was stripped away from me and ruined because of the Royals. If they had just chosen someone else as a tribute, none of this would be happening.
But it wasn't the Royal’s fault, Fennec had volunteered. Fennec had wanted this fate. But that still wasn’t right and that wasn't like him. It was all wrong. They were all lying to me and deceiving me and it was wrong. They’re trying to break me.
Everything I’ve ever known was a lie. My only friend, my religion that my family devoted ourselves to, everything. It was all a big fucking lie and I was in the center of it all.
Hot tears burned my cheeks as they ran down my face. I crumpled up the paper I was writing notes on. It wasn't fair.
Maybe I shouldn't run away. Maybe I deserve to die in this horrible place if all that exists for me is lies and failure. Everything I’ve ever done is pointless. Everything is a fucking lie.
“Maggie?”
Vira stood in front of me, her bird mask covering her features. I wanted to scream.
“Leave me alone, Vira. I'm not in the mood.”
“I need to talk to you-”
“I said, leave. Me. Alone. Go. Please.” I hissed through gritted teeth.
I watched Vira bite her lip nervously as she nodded and left. I wiped my eyes furiously. Why did she have to care so much? Why did she have to care about me?
Or did she even care? Maybe she was pretending just so she could break me again just like everyone else in this stupid fucking family. I slammed my head down on the table and felt pain split through my forehead.
All of a sudden, I heard the dinner bells. It couldn't be that late already, could it? I stood, dizzy, and stumbled over to the door. I left my book on the table with my crumpled notes and tear-stained sheets.
A servant stared at me as I walked by. I could feel an angry welt forming on my forehead. Maybe if I damaged my brain enough I’d be so invaluable as meat they’d have to let me go.
The stairs flashed back and forth in my eyes and I swayed as I walked. I stumbled like I was drunk down the three flights of stairs to the dining hall. Servants greeted me and peeled the doors open for me before I was escorted to my seat.
“There you are, Magpie. I hadn’t seen you all day, I was worried you wouldn't be joining us for dinner.” The Queen’s voice felt like agony in my ears. I imagined jumping across the table and strangling her.
Vira’s cheeks were pink and tear stained under her mask. I’d fucked up.
I sat beside Vira and we ate in silence. I didn't bother to look at her sad face, I felt sick just seeing her. I was angry. Every bone in my body felt heavy with pressure and made me feel like I’d explode at any second. I jammed the empty fork into my mouth angrily. I hated this stupid family and everything they’d done.
“What happened to your forehead?” Vira asked me under her breath. I didn't answer.
The Queen cleared her throat. “May I have your attention, all? Today marks a very special occasion, the King and my anniversary. For our anniversary, the Chef prepared a very special meal for you all. Please enjoy.”
Vira looked nervous in her seat. She turned to me. “Maggie, you don't want to see the show.”
I wrinkled my brow. “Why not? Why should I listen to you?” I snarled.
“I'm being serious. You don't want to see.”
My mind raced as participants were brought to the front of the dining hall. They looked like regular everyday citizens. There were three of them, all young-ish looking men with white shirts and black pants. Vira bit her lip and rustled nervously beside me.
“Thank you for joining us, gentlemen. If you would please don the mask in front of you, before taking your place.” The Queen instructed. The men did as they were told, wearing simple black bird masks over their faces.
“I hate when they do this.” Vira muttered beside me.
I watched in horror as the first man got up and laid at the far edge of the table. The Chef approached slowly, making a show of twirling for the Queen’s amusement. She clapped with joy.
But then, the Chef took a knife from his apron and hacked off the arm from the gentleman lying down. The man didn't make a noise at all, he didn't even flinch. He just lay there, bleeding from the chopped wound in his shoulder. The Queen squealed.
“I’ll have that cut please.”
What the fuck.
I was glued to my chair, terrified of the sight taking place in front of me. I watched as the Chef cleaned off his butcher knife and cut right along the elbow, giving the bicep section to the Queen. I gagged watching the blood pool on her plate, the fingers still twitching even after being dismembered. I watched the man laying down like nothing was wrong, blissfully in his own world. I was going to throw up.
The Chef cut off the other arm less cleanly this time. It took a few hacks to get through the bone. I watched in horror as he repeated the process and served the man’s arm to the King.
I gagged as I watched the royalty dig in with their silver forks and knives, tenderly cutting and taking apart the fresh meat still on the bone. I gagged as I watched the Queen sing her teeth into the muscle of the arm and tear, letting blood spill down her chin.
Vira looked at me pitifully.
The Chef served the forearm to Vira, who poked at it with her fork. I had enough of this bullshit.
I stood from my seat and stormed out of the dining hall. The image of the man’s chopped arm was seared into the back of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the Queen’s bloody face as she demolished the arm in front of her.
I ran to my room and slammed the door. They’d be feasting all night, the other two men lined up and watching for their turn to be sacrificed. It was fucking horrific.
This is fucking insanity.
Hours passed as I sat in my room rubbing my forehead and trying to wash out the image of the still alive man being cut apart. I could see his blood dripping down the table cloth.
I’d seen dead bodies and blood before. I was accustomed to this kind of gore, but not when it was a live performance. It was disgusting. My mind raced as I imagined Vira tearing the heart from his chest and licking her lips as she bit into it like an apple.
A light knock tapped against my front door. Vira didn't wait for an answer before pushing her way in.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
I scoffed at her. “Are you skipping dinner, Princess? I'm sure your parents would hate you missing the literal fucking murder occuring in front of you.”
“I tried to warn you…”
“Yeah? And what other secrets does this building host, hm? What else are you hiding or lying to me about?”
Vira trembled. “I'm sorry, Maggie. I'm sorry.”
I turned away from her. “Sorry doesn't cut it.”
Vira’s voice was angry and thick with tears as she shouted, “Can't you get your head out of your ass for one second, Maggie? You’re going to die. I thought all of this was normal, but now you're going to die and I’m scared, Maggie. I want to save you.”
I glanced at her, feeling apathetic. “I hate this fucking life.”
Vira walked over and opened the windows before sitting on the sill and patting beside her. I sat with her.
“I'm sorry Maggie. I know this is a lot. But please don't go.”
“You’re selfish, Vira.”
“I grew up alone. I was the only company I could have for 18 years of my life. I'm not losing you that easily.” I rolled my eyes. She was naive and irresponsible. She was born to live in this shitty castle where every need is catered to. “It's pointless, I’ll die either way. What else are you hiding? How much worse can it be?” Vira looked at me. “Much worse, Maggie. You have no idea.” I huffed in response. “And… Maggie? I'm sorry. I know the Arce Corvum has been terrible to you. I know the Queen hates you. I know this is weird and unfamiliar and you’re scared. I know you don't like this. I don't like it either. I just. I can't stand the thought of you leaving when there’s still so much you don't know; about me and the royalty. I don't want you to die, Maggie. I don't hate you like you seem to think. I don't want you dead.” “Mm.” “Can't you get it through your thick skull? I'm scared, Maggie. I don't want you to die. I don't want the Queen to hate you. I care about you. I care about you so much and I know I’m naive and inexperienced but I want to be around you. I want you to stay. This is killing me. If I’m upsetting you, tell me. Don't just shut me out. I want to be there for you, but please, don't shut me out. I’ll stall the Queen, I’ll do everything I can. Just stay with me, a few more days at least?” Guilt wracked through my core. I looked down at my feet. “I’m sorry too. I've been a bitch to you all day.” “You had a good reason.” “Not really, Vira. You shouldn't excuse the way I treat you so easily. It's unacceptable for me to be such a bitch to you when you’ve been nothing but kind to me.” “I know. I don't hate you, Maggie.” “I'm sorry.” “I know.” “In another life, if this world wasnt so fucked up and horrific, maybe we’d have a genuine chance at something together? Maybe we could be something. Maybe we could grow old together like normal people do. Maybe we could have a chance at a life not so fucked up and unfair.” Vira smiled. “I’d have liked that. I think we’re good together.” I smiled back. “I think so too.” “I think it’s time for you to rest. Goodnight, Maggie.” “Goodnight, Vira.” And with that, the Princess left me alone with my thoughts and my dwindling anger. It was interesting seeing her grow. Being with Vira so often over the last few days led to her voice being less monotone, and she was certainly showing more personality now. It was refreshing to hear her speak her mind and express herself, instead of being so formal all the time. Maybe we did have a chance in this lifetime, if we were blessed with some sort of miracle. If the gods really were real, I prayed to give us a chance. Let us be happy. Maybe we could make a real change.

Chapter Text

For the first time in a very long time, my dreams left me with a pleasant feeling when I awoke. I didn't feel cold like a corpse while I slept, perhaps even a little hopeful for the future. Vira was growing on me. She was naive and oblivious but so sweet. She showed genuine interest in me and made me feel valued in this shitty palace. If her mom wasn't trying to kill me, I might even feel more at home.
It felt like the elephant in the room to know the Queen wanted me dead. I was sleeping on a ticking time bomb leading me to my end, but this morning I wasn't so mad about it. It was terrifying, but today I was more interested in spending more time with Vira.
We ate breakfast together. I was growing more accustomed to the luxury pastries of the palace and began to look forward to their sweet jam filling my mouth. Part of me yearned for the jam I made with my mother over the summer; a gentle sense of homesickness washed over me. I wished Vira could taste our food the way I’ve been trying hers.
We spent the afternoon together in the library. Vira drew while I read up on the lore of the other gods. Vira was a talented artist. She explained to me how being alone for so long led to her observational skills becoming more astute. She picked apart the earth with her eyes and drew what she saw. Worlds bloomed from her fingertips the way melodies bloomed from her lips.
Vira wore her mask less when she was with me. I was able to admire her smile, and the sad but kind tilt of her eyes. I often got distracted from my book staring at her. She’d meet my eyes and my face would heat up. She would laugh at me. Sometimes, when she drew she would stick out her tongue in concentration.
We were similar in the opposite ways. Where I was loud, harsh and angry due to my isolation, she was soft and delicate. She spoke softly, but sternly when she needed to. A gentle thunderstorm with lightning threatening to strike.
We both weren't great with communication. We often sat in silence, enjoying the simple presence of each other. I’d never experienced a friendship like this, and neither had she.
With Fennec, we would talk for hours and he would fill the silence with his pubescent teenage boy voice that scratched and cracked. When we didn't speak, we would smoke, when we weren't smoking, we’d speak.
I wondered if Vira would like to try smoking. I imagined her delicate, pale fingers trying to hold a cigarette. I imagined her lips, perfectly tinted red, blowing out circles of smoke.
My heart did a backflip in my chest.
“You’re staring again, Maggie. Do I have something on my face?”
I blushed. Fuck. Caught again. “No- I was just distracted that’s all.”
Vira gave a knowing smile and a coy nod. She hummed in response and went back to her drawing. I shifted over to see what she was doing.
On her page in perfectly rendered graphite sat me with my book. My hair was frizzy and wild, my eyes had deep eyebags, my fingers were jagged and bony and my cheeks were gaunt. But it was me. I looked at her and Vira smiled.
“You were too pretty not to draw.”
“Is that seriously what I look like? Fuck- I look like a mess.”
Vira laughed. “Wow, thanks.”
“No no, not the drawing. You just portray me so life-like. There's an energy to it that’s just- is that really what I look like?”
Vira laughed again. She chirped so sweetly it made my head feel fuzzy. Everything with Vira was a new sensation in my body.
“How is your book? Have you learned anything?” Vira asked.
“Well, did you know the reason we hate fire is because the people who worship the God Of Greed burn their offerings as sacrifice? The more they burn, the better offerings they’re making. The Cupere- The God Of Greed is also portrayed as a phoenix. Our gods are both birds, one a bird of light while the other is a bird of darkness.”
“Fascinating, isn't it? To think that they don't teach this in schools… It’s almost upsetting? Other religions with cultures as rich as ours, isolated from each other completely.”
I nodded. It was a betrayal to every god, a resistance to their own reign of their nation. It was like telling every other nation a gentle ‘fuck you, I’m better’.
I placed my head on Vira’s shoulder. My body felt relaxed around her, but I didn't feel anxious about the missing fervour in my veins as I would regularly. Maybe I was getting soft.
A question rattled in my brain.
“What the fuck was last night about?”
Vira sighed. “The Queen does ‘feasts’ like that when she feels threatened. It’s a sick way for her to feel in control again. I grew up thinking it was normal to have someone off themselves so willingly in front of you, just for you to feast off them. But last night, all I could picture was you in that place. All I could see were your arms being severed, bleeding to death in front of me. When you left, I couldn't bear to look at the Queen. I left for my room shortly after you did.”
“That was fucking traumatic. You grew up with that torture regularly?”
“Well, yeah. Special events or occasions, threats of wars or secrets to spill, anything that might have triggered her, and well. Murderous delights for dinner.”
I shuddered. “I'm sorry.”
“You apologise a lot for someone who gives off a not-caring energy.”
“Hmph.” I rolled my eyes. “Have you considered that, maybe, I’ve started to care about you?”
I felt Vira smile. “This lifestyle is normal to me, Maggie. I don't view it as traumatic or horrific, it’s just a part of my culture.”
“Your culture fucked you up.”
“My culture made me who I am.”
I don't think I could ever get used to this sick exhaustion of power. Everything the Queen did was to assert her superiority. It was all to make her seem big and all-knowing, and it certainly fucking worked.
“Do you think the other cultures are as fucked up?”
“I know they are, and more- uh- screwed up than us. The Amasius, the God Of Lust requires the sacrifice of a newborn from every citizen in their nation. Every woman must carry a child for nine months, she must go through the trauma of birth, only to give the product of her love to her God. Therefore, genuine reproduction is very sparse in the village. Most of the population is brought in from citizens from other nations seeking refuge. It’s not a pleasant world out there.”
“Seeking refuge from a fucked up home, only to be put in something worse.”
We spent the rest of the day talking idly and enjoying each other's presence. It was nice to have someone not view you as a freak of nature for once. To have someone who understands isolation and what it does to your head. How you get so used to being alone that anyone who comes near you is an automatic threat. For once, I felt genuinely heard.
The day came and went, every hour passing by without a second glance.

But then dinner came and everything went back to the regular misery of the castle. The atmosphere switched completely. Panic and fear flooded my gut, contrasting the eerie relaxation I felt previously. Every muscle in my body tensed and I was ready to run.
The Queen’s malicious gaze followed me into the dining hall. I could feel her glare whipping hatred at me like bullets. I could feel her resentment from across the room. When dinner was served, she looked directly in my direction and smirked at me.
On my plate sat a bloody and dismembered hand. The wedding band of whoever the hand belonged to was still on the ring finger. A beautiful thin, gold band with a big red gem in the middle. It made me fucking sick.
That was the hand of someone with a life and a lover. Maybe they had kids. That could be the hand of my mother served to me on a silver platter and I could dig in without a care like the heathens around me.
So I did.
I looked the Queen in her stupid, angular eyes and I bit down hard on the flesh of the palm. Raw meat flooded my senses and the iron taste of blood filled my mouth. It was like biting into an orange without peeling it. My canines scraped against the flesh of skin and I made sure the Queen could see every angle of it. I could feel the red droplets of blood drip down my chin and I licked my lips.
This bitch would not get the better of me. I’d die on my own terms.
Vira whispered that I didn't have to do this, but I thought I could see the slight relief in her eyes as I dug into the delicacy she grew up with. I watched as she dug into her own hunk of flesh, cutting it politely with her knife in contrast to my rude devouring.
If I was going to live with the royals, I might as well act the part.
I couldn't finish the meat. I chewed down to the bone of the thumb before the wave of nausea hit me and I had to stop. I wiped my chin with a napkin, watching the red spill out over the cloth.
I excused myself from the table, feeling the Queen’s leering eyes on the back of my head. I imagined I could hear her quiet snickering as I speed walked back to my room.
I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. My body retching this blasphemous sin out of my body. I was rejecting this religion, inside and out.
My head pounded and my throat burned.
If I kept living here, I might just die on my own. No interference needed from the Queen. Maybe that was her plan.
It occurred to me that even with my every waking move in her presence, the Queen hadn’t made any attempt to kill me. She hadn't poisoned me or come for me in my sleep. Maybe it was a silent blessing, but I definitely didn’t feel safe.
I didn't feel scared of death. I wasn't scared of dying.
But I was scared of leaving Vira alone again.
A knock on the door moved me from my slouch over the toilet. I went to the door, wiping my lips. But when I opened it, I wasn't greeted by a friendly face.
“We need to talk, Magpie.”
It was the King. I never actually interacted with him outside of a formal setting, it was off putting to see him here. I moved to the side to let him in and he placed his massive frame on my bed. He was a huge man, but up close it was almost overwhelming. I sat beside him.
“There are two women in my life who mean a lot to me, I’m sure you know this. Both Vira and the Queen are important to me, and their happiness is my only wish. But I need to talk to you about them. As I’m sure you’re aware, Vira has gotten very attached to you very quickly. That might be the only thing saving you at this moment. The Queen is not happy with your behaviour, and she wishes to punish you.”
I nodded, listening to his thick voice.
“I'm here to warn you, Magpie. For my daughter's sake. She’s so kind and naive, and losing you to her mother would devastate her. But you don't have much time. The Queen is making arrangements for your death. If you continue on this path, bad things are going to happen. But it’s not safe for you to leave either. The Queen has her checkmate, I just wanted to give you a warning. I think Vira knows too.”
It felt completely different hearing it from someone else. Knowing you’re going to die is one thing but knowing the plans are in action is another. My time was ending and I needed to do something about it now.
“Is there any way to stall a little longer?”
“Make the Queen like you.” He said. “I’m not sure how, but be obedient with the rules of the castle. Eat our food. Make it seem like you could be royalty, that might give you a little more time while she figures this out. She loves Vira, you know. But she doesn’t love Vira the way your mother loves you.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we sent the letter stating how you’d be staying with us from now on, your mother came to the castle. She wanted so badly to see you or say goodbye, but we couldn't let her. The Queen wouldn’t do that for Vira. To her, our daughter is a chess piece for continuing the legacy of the family, just as she was to her mother. Vira is an object to her, a trophy commemorating her life and the perfect being she groomed. Your presence is ruining that illusion whether you're trying to or not. She doesn’t see Vira as a treasure if you’re constantly scratching her surface, you see? You’re taking away from her value to her mother.”
My stomach plummeted. Was I really driving this family apart that badly? Yeah the Queen was a backstabbing, betraying bitch, but she was still Vira’s mother.
“So if I fit into your views better, if I wear my mask and eat your food and live to worship this God, you think she might give me a chance?”
“I think it’d better your odds, yes.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
The King stood, “My daughter has really fallen for you. You’re a lucky girl, Magpie.”
“I know.”
“Don't break her heart.”
“I’ll try. Thank you again, Sir.” I said softly as the King left me alone once more,

Chapter Text

“Your dad came to visit me last night.” I told Vira as soon as I met her for breakfast.
“The King visiting you on his own will? I do hope he wasn’t trying to scare you off.” Vira said light heartedly.
“Quite the opposite actually.”
“Oh dear…Oh..” Vira suddenly looked embarrassed. “Did he give you… the talk?”
“What talk?”
“… The talk. About the… About the birds and the bees?”
My face turned red. “What? No! He just wanted to talk about you and the Queen. I'm going to try to be more royal-like. I’ll be more polite and elegant, I’ll wear my veil and my mask, I hopefully won't throw up after eating your food-”
Vira laughed and opened the dining hall door for me. “I look forward to seeing your efforts.”
“Don't patronise me! I'm serious.”
Vira smiled softly. “I look forward to seeing your efforts,” she said more sincerely.
We sat together at the head of the table. I watched as Vira picked a single pastry and placed it on her plate. She was so elegant it was appalling. I tried to mirror her movements, picking one pastry before putting it on my plate. I ignored Vira’s snickering.
I watched as she cut into it with her knife and fork. I tried to copy, but the pastry kept slipping around my plate. Frustrated, I picked it up with my hands and stuffed it in my mouth.
“It’s the God of Gluttony, shouldn't we be stuffing our faces ravenously?”
“It’s about elegance, dear. The poise. Kill your enemy with grace and a flourish.” Vira teased as she gave up and picked up her own pastry to dig into. “The Queen’s not here however, she doesn't need to know.”
“Do you really think this will work? Do you think I can be like you?”
“Well, I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you?”
I took a second pastry before we left for the day's activities. The Queen had requested we help with some simple castle work, folding table cloths or hanging decorations. The palace was always covered in ornate decorations, but apparently the Queen needed more. We tucked gold decorated feathers into candle posts and placed a few bird skulls around the tables and benches. We found a huge preserved raven wing and decided to hang it in the hallway proudly.
It was macabre. That’s what Vira said.
“Have you ever painted your nails?” Vira asked, idly.
“No- never had time or access to it really. Why?”
“You’d look nice with black nails. Shall I paint them for you?”
“Go ahead. It would fit my dark and mysterious exterior.”
Vira laughed and took my arm, leading me back to her room once we were finished with the last decorations. We sat together on the bed and she tugged my hand onto her leg while pulling out a thin brush coated in a black paint.
“Will this kill me?”
“I guess we’ll see.” She responded with a wink.
It tickled as she wiggled the brush back and forth on my nails, coating them with a matte colour. It was cute seeing her so focused.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against her shoulder while she painted. It felt frivolous and silly, but it was nice to relax. I never realised how exhausting it was before I took a break.
“Just like a princess.” Vira said when she finished.
“Like a princess.”
She wrapped her arm around me in an awkward side hug. I unconsciously moved towards her body warmth. What a treat it was to be loved.
We stayed together for a minute or two, before a knock sounded against the door.
Vira opened it quickly and the Queen stepped inside without a word.
“Magpie, I wish for your accompaniment. Come join me for a word, it won't be long.”
I gave Vira a nervous glance before following the Queen out the door without a word.
“Is this how you plan to murder me?”
“Quite the opposite, Magpie. Come.”
The Queen led me to her office, unlocking the door and beckoning me in. I followed, nervous tension building within me. I was prepared for a fight, partially.
The Queen sat across from me at her desk and set down a silver dome from the Chef’s kitchen.
“I wanted you to test the Chef’s new recipe before it’s served later. Oh don't look so scared, it won't hurt you.”
I scowled as she unveiled a platter of finely cut meat smoked to perfection. Just the smell of it was enough to make me start salivating.
“What is it?”
“Fresh human appetisers smoked with raisins and walnuts. I thought you might enjoy it. Please, dig in.”
This had to be a test. She was testing me to see if I’d falter and fail and prove she should kill me off now. I could feel her eyes like daggers into my skull while I eyed up the platter.
I took a slice off the platter and dropped it between my lips. I chewed slowly, trying to taste every flavour. I’d do whatever I’d need to to prove I should stay.
“Mm.” I hummed while making eye contact. It wasn't a lie, it did taste good. I ignored the gag that was building in my throat as I swallowed. Even if it tasted good, it was still human.
“Please, have another.”
I watched her face carefully as I took another slice. I ate it slowly, feeling my mouth salivate at the smoky flavours. It was really fucking good actually. The sweetness complimented the savoury, pork-like nature of the meat. The nutty accent was the perfect aftertaste that left me wanting more.
I was going to win this brutal test.
I took another slab, then another until the plate was almost finished. The Queen gave me an amused look.
“Want one?” I offered.
“I’ve had plenty.”
I finished the plate, wiping the drool from my lips. I could have eaten three of those platters.
“Give the Chef my compliments, would you?”
“Happily. I'm glad you enjoyed it. You’re free to go now.”
I left, feeling my stomach rumble still. I was still hungry, I hadn’t eaten properly over the last few days. I guess you grow accustomed to cannibalism when it’s your only option.
I went back to Vira’s room feeling oddly empty. When I stepped in, Vira was lying on her stomach and reading a book.
“Well? Did the Devil brutally torture you until you spilled your guts and your secrets?”
“No, actually. She filled my guts instead. Wanted me to taste the Chef’s new recipe. It was quite good, actually.”
Vira looked perplexed. “The Chef is quite talented at what they do.”
I nodded in agreement and sat down on the edge of her bed.
“Do you really think she’s going to kill me?”
“I don't want to think about it, but I doubt it’d be by her. She’s not one to get her hands dirty.”
I laid down beside her and turned to watch her perfect side profile. She chewed on her cheek while she read, licking her finger before turning the page. Up close, I could see the natural rosiness of her cheeks and the red surrounding her eyes. Her ears were slightly pointed and she had a piercing on each lobe.
“You’re pretty.” I said, absentmindedly.
Vira smiled at me with her perfect cupid-bow lips. “I know.” She giggled.
“Well, of course you’d know. I'm sure you’re told by every suitor what a marvellous bride you’d make. Oh, I bet everyone just fauns at your feet, kissing your heel and fainting when your eyes graze their pathetic form. Oh, Ms. Vira, bless me with your holy, sacred eyes. I’m unworthy of your grace.”
“Hush.” She punched my shoulder and I could see her face turning red. It filled me with a sense of accomplishment to get a reaction out of someone so stoic. “You’re not so bad yourself, Magpie.”
“Oh my, what did I do to deserve such harsh treatment?” I teased, draping my arm over my head and sighing loudly.
“Aw, I’m sorry, your highness. Shall I drop to my knees and beg your forgiveness? Do forgive my worthless tongue for spewing such horrid lies! How could you ever stand to be around me? Oh, your majesty. Your beauty and grace bestows a sense of glory upon my pathetic eyes. I am nothing but a dog for you.”
I laughed. “I'm better at playing the role of peasant than you.”
“You have more experience.”
I grinned and rolled over to my stomach. I leaned over to look at the book she was reading.
“The Ever-Loving one, God of Lust, interesting read?”
“Yeah actually. It’s a little messed up- you know how we have tributes? They also have tributes but in a different way. The tributes are ‘slaves’ to the society, they give their mind and body completely to the royalty and the civilians for whatever they wish to do. Lust for power? Lust for sex? Lust for destruction? Take it all out on the tribute.”
“And people want the role of tribute?”
“They’d fight and die for it.”
“That is… messed up, yeah. I'm not sure I’d want to go there. Maybe I’d fit in with the God of Pride. Do you know about them?
“That’s the next read.”
“Do you think the God’s could just… pick me up and drop me off in another nation?”
“What would I do without my darling Magpie, though? I’d be so lonely…. So alone.” Vira pouted.
“You could come with me.”
“Maggie, we are the most tame nation. I don't think we would want to go out there.”
“You keep saying that but does anyone have any actual proof beyond these books?” I felt my temper rising slightly. “The Queen has lied about so much already, don't you think she’d lie about that too?”
“I have talked with the Daughters of Dormio, they confirm what lies within the text. If their legends are accurate, why wouldn't other places be?”
“Maybe it’s because we're allies, we have to make them look good.”
“You’re so pessimistic, you know that? Why do you think she’d lie to you about this?”
“Maybe so that I wouldn't feel hopeful about escaping to another nation?”
“So she forges a millennium of documents just to prove you wrong?”
“Yes.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Her tone was light hearted but there was a sense of agitation behind her words. Vira was tentative and nervous still. She still grew up with the Queen as her mother, no matter how evil the bitch might be.
“What if there's an eight nation? Or what if we made an eight nation for us to rule over and create our own rules? We could make a safe haven from the relentless hell the God’s put on us.”
“You have an active imagination.”
“You’d make a good queen but I’d make an even better one.” I mimed doing a queenly-wave and a royal sip of ale.
“Mm. And what would your first rule be as a queen?”
“Hm… Everyone should have a shrine dedicated to you. Also, no cannibalism.”
Vira laughed. “Would you get jealous of people worshipping me?”
“I’d have to worship you twice as hard to make up for it.”
“Well then you better start.”
I smiled. “But really, what if there are more gods out there? Or what if there are no gods and it’s all corrupt lies to make us insane as the human race?”
“What other gods could be out there?”
“I'm not sure, maybe a god for…rocks.”
“A rock god?”
“Yes. The most powerful rock lord out there. He throws rocks at other gods.”
“How terrifying.”
“Truly.”
The silence began to drown our conversation as I thought about the possibility of other gods, or maybe worse- no gods. As a society would we really be that fucked up to split our race into seven groups to participate in unforgiveable acts? Was it all just an ancient excuse to be a shitty person?
And if people found out that was the case…
Vira poked my cheek. “You make a silly face when you’re concentrating.”
“You stick out your tongue when you focus.”
She blew a raspberry at me and I laughed. I could worry about gods later, for now I was with the Princess. It was hard for her not to be the focus of my attention.
“Do you think there will ever be a revolution?” I asked.
“Why would the people revolt? They love their way of life.”
“But they don't know the truth.”
“And they’re not going to. It's for their own good.”
“It's for their own good to not know if their family members are dead?”
“Don't start, Maggie. You know what I mean.”
“So you know that what is going on is bad?”
“Of course I know, but it’s the way I grew up. Part of my brain still thinks it's normal. It’s what I’m used to. It’s a part of me.”
I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to start another fight.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be so defensive. I’m on your side, Maggie. I know you’re mad, you have every right to be, but I’m still catching up to you and your beliefs, I’m still wrapping my head around it as well.”
“Would we really be close like this if I wasn't kidnapped to this castle?”
“I’d like to think so, if I was able to meet you. But I’ve seen you in public. I know how hard it’d be to naturally get close to you, but I would still try.”
“Hm.” It reassured me a little. Half of my brain was screaming at me telling me I wouldn’t have a chance with her if it wasn't for the circumstances. Half my brain knew I would never be seen as good enough for her. I was a peasant, a daughter of a Feeder. I was a little girl who watched the Princess dance and fell head over heels for her.
Despite everything, maybe that made me lucky to have my life on the line if it meant getting to know Vira.
“Maggie?”
I opened my eyes and looked at the Princess. She really was ethereal. It was still so strange she seemed to want to be with me.
“You’re thinking about how I wouldn't care for you if you hadn't been stuck here, aren't you? You’re starting to fret and feel fake and like you shouldn’t be with me. Stop it.”
I tilted my head at the Princess.
“Stop pitying yourself like that. You are here. You’re here with me now and we’re together and I’m so happy I finally feel like I have a life outside of the royalty. I care for you, I care so deeply for you, Maggie. And if you weren't you I’m sure I’d feel different but that’s not the case. A twisted fate brought us together, it’s going to take more than a Queen to tear us apart.”
“But you’ve never been with anyone else before.”
“I’ve talked with the Princess from Dormio’s nation, and I’ve talked with a few tributes. None have ever interested me as much as you do.”
I felt embarrassed. I was challenging the Princess on her own feelings. I knew what she was saying was true but I didn't have the heart to believe it or accept it.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely positive, Maggie.”

That night at dinner, I couldn’t stop stuffing my face with the meal prepared for us. Smokey sliced meat that tasted like a delicious ambrosia. I chewed through every tendon, down the bone of the meat.
I knew it was human. It had the same pork flavouring and chewiness that I found when I previously consumed the meat. It wasn't fully cooked, just smoked and more of a rare steak. It was served with mashed potatoes and a selection of vegetables smothered in thick, brown gravy. I felt a sense of richness as I ate. Almost a touch of superiority. Being with the royalty was getting to my head.
I scarfed down the food faster than anyone else at the table, doing my best to eat politely while still taking in as much as I could. The Chef even brought me seconds.
Sweet and savoury with a touch of the nutty flavour from earlier. The vegetables were sweet and lightly salted with a slab of fresh butter on top of them. Boiled and seared carrots, brussel sprouts and squash all cooked in a brown sugar tasting sauce. It was like eating a plate of candy.
By the time I finished my second plate, everyone was done with their first.
“Stay for dessert, would you Magpie? We have quite the treat for you.”
I licked my lips and nodded eagerly. If it was as good as the main course, I’d have three servings of dessert on my own. I smiled at Vira sitting beside me who seemed to be happy I was enjoying my meal.
The Chef placed a white porcelain bowl in front of each of us. Inside sat a small pink and red coloured mousse that jiggled when you tapped it.
Vira scowled. “You know I dislike the texture of this meal, my Queen. Please, forgive me for skipping.” Her voice went to its regular monotone and stoic expression.
I scooped a piece off with the silver spoon presented to me and sniffed it hesitantly. The King and Queen watched me with cold eyes as I put the jello into my mouth.
It was nothing like I expected. Instead of a sweet tasting mousse, it was a savoury and salty dish with a hint of a meaty flavour. It was creamy and sat nicely in my mouth as I tried to decipher every touch I was tasting.
I swallowed hesitantly.
“Well, what did you think, Magpie? Please, have another bite.”
I took another spoonful of the strange, salty pudding in front of me. I’d never tasted anything like it.
“It’s nice-” I said with a mouthful.
Vira laughed under her mask as I took another bite. It wasn't as good as the first dish but it would have to do for now if I was to win the Queen’s approval.
“Very good. I'm glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a smirk. I couldn't help feeling like I had done something amusing and I prayed that this wasn't a trick or sick joke.
I took a sip of water with the last bite and bid the Queen farewell. Vira followed behind me closely.
“What was that I ate?” I asked quietly.
“Brain pudding.”

Chapter Text

Thud.
My door slammed open as Vira rushed into my room. Dawn had barely peaked its head out from behind my curtains when Vira came flying in.
“Maggie- Get up, Maggie you have to go.”
“What?- Vira, I just woke up, give me a second-” Vira opened the curtains and I hissed as light flooded in from the outside world. “What’s wrong?” I shielded my eyes with my arm. I was still adjusting to the morning.
“I overheard the Queen, you’ve got to get out now. You have to go, Maggie. There’s no time.” Vira sounded panicked and I sleepily wrapped my arms around her.
“Overheard her say what?”
“She’s ordered your execution for tonight. The arrangements are in plan. We’re out of time.”
Fuck.
“No, no that’s not right. I’ve done everything right. I’ve been obedient and nice to the Queen. Why does she want me gone? Fuck- This can’t be right.”
Vira’s face was streaked with tears as she looked at me. “I know, Maggie. I thought we had more time but the clock is ticking and the alarms almost rung. We need to get you out of here.”
Vira tugged me out of bed.
“How? Where will I go? I’m not ready, I haven't prepared.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Go to your parents house first, say your goodbyes and then meet me in the forest. I need you to be safe.”
“But she’ll know if I go now. I have to sneak out.”
“We have some time, the arrangements won't be ready until noon.”
“I’m not ready- I-” silent tears flowed down my cheeks and Vira pulled me into a hug.
“I know. I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean this. I thought we could stall longer. I’m so sorry, Maggie.” I buried my face into Vira’s chest. I had to leave her or I’d die. I had to go, there was no other choice. I had to live my life in hiding, alone and forgotten and on the run. I won't ever be free again.
Vira helped me up and started to pack some clothing into a bag for me. She packed my favourite robes and my socks and boots. She packed the map I drew of the castle and the map of the village. I watched, wiping my eyes as she tried to gather my things.
“I always thought I was ready for death, Vira. I grew up surrounded by it and I knew it was inevitable. But now it’s here. It’s here and I’m scared. I'm so fucking scared.”
Vira placed a hand on my thigh. “I tried. I really tried to save you. I should’ve let you go days ago, you could’ve been so much safer. I'm sorry, Maggie. I'm so selfish.”
I clung to her and sobbed into her shoulder. Fear racked through my body and left me shaking pathetically. I felt sick. My hands trembled and I clutched at my face.
“It’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m so sorry. This shouldn't happen to you. Not after everything you’ve been through. It’s not fair. I should’ve never brought you back here.”
“I don't want to die.”
“You’re not going to die, I’ll get you out of here.”
Snot dripped down my nose. I was paralyzed with the fear and acceptance that this was it. This was the end for me.
“I can’t, Vira. I can't. They’ll kill me either way.”
Vira clutched me to her chest like I was a child. I whimpered and clung to her, muttering ‘I don't want to die’ over and over again while she stroked my hair. Vira began to hum a gentle tune and I nestled farther into her shirt. I wished so badly to freeze time and stay here with her, even for just another day.
After a minute or two, my sobbing settled into pathetic sniffs and Vira twirled my hair around her finger.
“I’’l keep you safe, I promise.” I nodded numbly, clutching her shirt like it was my only life line. “Here,” she said, standing and holding her hand out to me. I took it.
In her palm sat Fennec’s bell he gave me. I rung it gently, listening to the sweet jingle and smiling through my tears.
“His bell.”
“What happened to him won’t happen to you. I’ll do everything I can, Maggie.”
I nodded and held Vira’s hand tightly. She ran her thumb over my palm and put her other hand on mine. I avoided her eye contact, wiping my eyes with my free hand. I could feel her pretty brown eyes on me. If only I could stay lost in them forever, hiding within her face.
I stood and began to help pack my things. I packed a pillow and a pen and a stale pastry I had from when I first came to the castle. I wasn't sure if I could stomach any food at the moment.
Vira ran a hand through my hair. I leaned into her touch and looked at her with sad eyes.
“You should get some food into you,” she said.
“I don't think I can eat.”
“It’ll be suspicious if you don't.”
I nodded and followed her numbly down to the dining hall. All the regular joy that had bloomed throughout the mornings in the castle was sapped away into a bottomless pit of fear. When we sat at the table, the King and Queen greeted us.
“Did you have a good sleep, Vira? What about you, Maggie?” The King asked gently and softly, he had kind eyes and a warm smile. It was hard to imagine him married to a woman so vile.
“Delightfully, I dreamt of ravens and cemeteries and precious jewels hidden beneath coffins.” Vira replied nonchalantly. On the outside, it would be impossible to see the panic seeping through her like sweat.
“I slept well too.” I mumbled. It was a lie though, my sleep had been restless. I lay awake in the darkness listening to the creaking of the castle. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was blood.
“Very good.” The King responded. He looked cheery and fatherly, less of a king and more of a regular, old guy.
“Maggie and I will spend the day in the courtyard today. We will prune the gardens so the servants can have their day off.”
“Sounds lovely.” The King answered. The Queen didn't react at all, stone-faced as ever.
I took a pastry and bit into it feeling extremely sick. My stomach twisted and turned and it felt like I was swallowing rocks. The lump in my throat made me feel like gagging. I could only get a bite in when the Queen chimed in.
“Do take another pastry, Maggie. We have plenty.”
I tried to ignore her, but Vira bumped my elbow and I took another pastry. I took another slow bite, feeling very watched by everyone at the table.
Vira grabbed two more of the pastries before tapping my arm. “Maggie and I should get going, the gardens are quite huge.”
The Queen nodded and I grabbed one more pastry before leaving. I followed Vira up to her room where she brought me out a cloth to wrap the pastries in. She stuffed them in my bag and picked it up.
“Let’s go down the back way.”
I followed her to the staircase that went behind the kitchen where the Chef began to prepare dinner. The smell of meat and dough flooded through the halls. Vira took me to a back exit towards the gardens and opened the door for me.
The sun was bright and hot and I had to shield my eyes to adjust properly. I never realised how dim the castle was until I stepped into the sun.
The garden path was pleasantly overgrown and a thick floral smell wafted through the air. We followed the paved road down under an arch of vines and dense trees. It would’ve been a nice place for a date if the circumstances were different. We walked at a normal pace, trying to avoid suspicion. Vira kept turning to me beneath her masl. I hid behind my own veil.
When we reached the clearing at the bottom of the courtyard, we faced the fence. I turned to Vira.
“Climb the fence and head straight. Don't stop until you’re deep in the forest, alright? Go to your parents, don't tell them anything. You'll only put them in danger. Tell them you need to hide, then go to the forest on the left side of town. I’ll visit you when the sun sets to make sure you're okay.”
“What happens after that?”
“Let's get through these steps first, we’ll figure that out after.”
I nodded and took my bag from Vira. I leaned in and gave her a tight hug, taking in the comforting warmth of her chest and the slightly cedar-y smell of her hair. She never smelled like lavender anymore.
“So this is goodbye?”
“Only for now.”
I looked down at the earth below me. This felt way too simple.
“Maggie?”
“Hm?”
“Be safe, please?”
“I’ll do my best.”
For the first time, Vira looked genuinely upset. Previously, it was as if a doll were crying, but now the cracks in her princess persona were really beginning to show.
“Maggie?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“No, don't do this Vira. Save the confession for when we’re both safe and together. Save it for when we can finally be happy. Please, not now.”
“I want you to know it, Maggie.”
I nodded and took a deep breath, swallowing the tears starting to form. I wrapped my hands around the fence posts and dragged myself over it. Each rung bit into my hand, the cold steel was slippery, but I made it to the top before looking down at Vira.
“Promise you’ll meet me tonight? I’ll ring Fennec’s bell if I think you’re coming.”
“I promise. Now go, please.” Vira turned away from me. I could see her shoulders shaking.
I flipped myself over the fence and slid down, watching Vira’s shaking form slowly leave me. It was time to go. I turned towards the forest and I ran.
I ran across the tangled roots that tried to trip me. I ran feeling the cold air punch its way through my lungs. I smelled the earth, the forest, the mud. It smelled so alive. The damp, cool morning air washed over me, cleansing me from the palace that would harbour my soul for the rest of time.
I stopped running after I thought it was safe. I sat down on a rock beside a small creek.
And I cried.
I let every moment of grief throughout my life wash over me. Years of repression and built up walls came tumbling down and I sobbed, over and over again.
I thought of my childhood house, its beautiful arches and turrets like a miniature castle being burnt to the ground. I thought of the remnants of my childhood turned to ash within its walls. All my stuffed animals, all my favourite pillows, my childhood blanket that was gifted to me. All washed away in a sea of brilliant red fire.
All because my father forgot to feed the beating heart of our house. He missed feeding time because of a holiday, he thought he could get a break. But God's wrath was no friend of the Feeders.
I thought of the isolation that occurred after that event. How everyone avoided me like the plague because the Popphagus’s will burnt down my house. How I became the central sin of the town, surrounded by rumours and hatred.
I thought of when I first met Fennec. It was after we had moved to our new home, he offered me a flower. He sat with me even when every other kid was out playing. He talked even when I stayed silent.
I imagined him dying to the hands of a great, mighty raven.
The isolation within my own family was almost more unbearable than the isolation from my peers. I knew my father killed people, I knew he had to. But I hated him. I hated his job and I hated knowing that would be my fate. I could never escape the worship of the thing that killed my childhood.
This life was cruel to me, so I became cruel to it.
Maybe I did deserve to die. This life was fruitless for me, this was all there was and now I’d suffer. Maybe it would have been better to stay in the castle and accept my fate.
I prayed they wouldn’t harm Vira once they found what had happened.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, a flash of colour amongst the barren landscape of the forest caught my eye. It was November now, times were changing and things were dying.
A fox ran across the creek in front of me. A brilliant red fox with a black snout and a cunning look. His tail swished idly and he sniffed the water before taking a tentative drink. I watched his pink tongue lap at the steady flow of water. I smiled.
The fox seemed to notice me and let out a small squeak. It scurried away from my rock, so I stood and followed it.
I ran after the fox, following its nimble form through the woods. My bag slapped against my thighs with a thud as I ran. I watched the fox’s path, watched his grace, and I realised how badly I missed Fennec.
I thought about running with him as I was with the fox. I thought about being with him, about loving him so wholly.
The fox led me to a clearing surrounded by a path. I recognized it. This path would take me home. The fox laid down amongst the thick grass of the clearing and I thanked it for its guidance.
I couldn't help feeling a sense of deja vu.
I followed the bath to my back porch and I opened the door as quietly as I could.
Thud.
Thud.
The steady beat welcomed me back in. It was quiet, but loud enough that I could hear its unfaltering pulse. I took a tentative step.
MMy house smelled of bread and yeast, it was familiar and welcoming. It felt like my home. I took my shoes off and closed the door as quietly as I could before tiptoeing around the living room.
I found my mother curled up on a couch with a ball of yarn. She was knitting a baby hat when she stopped to look up.
“Maggie?”
“Hi.”
She stood steadily from her place and wrapped her arms around me. She knew I wasn't one for hugs, but I could feel the relief seeping through her as I settled against her warmth.
“I thought your contract said you couldn't see anyone? I was so scared I’d never see you again. I tried to go to the Arce Corvum but-”
“I know. I can't explain what’s going on, but I don't think you’re going to see me again after today.”
“I’ll write you letters every day.”
I smiled sadly. I wished I could tell her what I’d been through, what I’d seen. But it wasn't safe.
“Is Father home?”
“I don't think I’ve ever heard you ask that before. Yes, he’s up in his study.”
I nodded and trekked up the stairs, careful of the floorboards that squeaked under my feet. I knocked on the old wooden door guarding the room where he worked on embalming his clients.
I didn't wait for an answer, I stepped inside.
My father was hunched over the body on his table, a needle and scissors in his hand. He looked up when I walked in.
“Maggie? I didn't think you were coming home.”
“Show me the Beating Heart.”
“What?”
“Show me what you feed. I want to see it.”
“Are you sure? I know you hate what I do and I don’t want to upset you.”
“Show me the fucking heart.” I snapped. He fumbled nervously, pocketing his tools and using his body to shield me from the corpse behind him. “Tell me the truth of what you do.”
“Maggie..”
“Show me.”
He nodded feebly and ushered me over to the door in the back of his study. It used to be a closet, but now it hosted far worse than clothing. As I walked past the table hosting the dead, something caught my attention.
A drop of blood spilled from the centre gouge in the person's chest. They had a towel over their head and legs. I assumed he was removing the organs from the chest.
I took a step closer, seeing the beautiful ruby red vessel inside the chest, caged behind ribs and flesh. I could sense the heart beating. I could feel the blood rushing.
I stuck my hand out and grabbed hold of the flesh surrounding the stomach. It was flappy and loose, severed so my father could have better access to the delights inside.
Without thinking, I took a bite of the fatty, raw meat in my hands.
“Maggie?”
I looked up, my chin feeling wet and the taste of cold meat and iron flooded my mouth. I chewed on the tough flesh. It had been dead for a while so the body began to stiffen with rigour mortis.
“What are you doing?” I watched his hand reach for his pocket. I knew what he would grab. “What did they do to you?”
I wondered if he knew what actually went on in the castle. I wondered if he knew what monster he was feeding.
I stepped forward, placing the meat back on the body's stomach and wiping my hand on my shirt. I licked my fingers clean. “Open the door.”
My father before me gulped nervously as he opened the door. It was a dark little hole, protected from the outside light. I could see a faint red glow inside.
“What is it?” I asked.
I watched as the dark void pooled out from the closet, engulfing the light surrounding it. All I could see was black. Dark, dark void like a horrible and thick oil-puddle. I took another step forward.
“What is it?” I repeated.
“I don't know.” My father sighed. “It’s always looked like this, a black inky void.”
I reached in and touched the tip of my finger to the puddle. It rippled and distorted the reality around it while it moved. It felt warm, like a warm pocket of air.
“Fascinating.”
I could tell my father was nervous. I wiped the blood from my face on the back of my hand.
What does it mean? I wondered. It wasn’t what I imagined it to be. It was more of a parasite than its own being. I felt confused.
“Maggie, I really think you shouldn’t be in here. It has a weird pull to it, I don't want you to get hurt.”
I laughed. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, do you? You have no idea what I know.”
My father brushed a hand through his hair. “You should go.”
“I would love to.”
I stormed out of his room, slamming the door and heading straight towards the bathroom to wash the blood off my face. I splashed myself with water. This was so fucked. I had only questions and no answers. I needed to talk to the Queen but that opportunity was far gone. I had to find Vira.
I packed some extra essentials into my bag before heading downstairs. I slipped into my favourite boots and my lucky cloak. I left without saying goodbye.
It was midday by now. I pulled the cloak over my head and started throughout the village. I passed by the markets, looking emptier than ever. There was a dreary atmosphere to the town that wasn’t there when I left. I remembered why I was so miserable here.
I stopped along the way to some of the local artisans. I bid them hello and good day, my veil still covering my face. It wasn't an unusual practice in the village to be masked on days that weren't religious, but it wasn't common.
The forest loomed ahead. It was a dark, spiked blob against the sky. I had to go.
I slipped along the shadows of the stores lining the streets, trying to stay out of sight the closer I got to the forest. This had been far too easy and I wasn't about to take any chances.
I turned and bid farewell to the village I grew up in. The village that tortured me and made me bitter with resent. I wasn't sad to leave it.
It was time to start anew.

Chapter Text

The dark forest welcomed me with open arms and a cool breeze. I walked quickly and quietly, slipping along the forest.
Every village had a forest surrounding the boundaries that separate each of the flesh worshipping villages. I had no idea what separated us from the other nations, but apparently it was enough to keep us silent.
I could hear faint voices sounding quietly over the quiet whispering of the trees. I wasn't alone here.
I crouched down behind a small bush, trying to sneak closer to the voices slowly growing louder. I couldn't make out what they were saying. There was a man and a woman, no one I recognized, but it was still a threat to my safety.
I watched their lanterns grow brighter and their voices come louder. They were coming the way from the village.
“...The bread hasn’t been its usual quality, Margret. This town’s going to shit, I'm telling ya.”
“Oh please, Harold. Don’tcha be a prick. The bakeries have been havin’ a harder time recently. Crops haven't been as good as they once were. Th’ God’s angry, somebody’s gone and pissed her off.”
There was some grumbling and swearing between the two. I watched as they took a step closer to my bush. I could hear their shaky breathing over the sound of the squeaking lantern. I could see their faces.
And I was livid.
People living their lives without suffering from being punished by the God’s. It wasn't fair. Why did I always get the short end of the stick? What did I do wrong to deserve this hatred?
My blood boiled hotter and hotter in my face. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I gripped the knife I tucked away in my bag.
And I sprung.
I jumped like a wild animal, blade between my fingers. The woman screamed as I stood in front of them, I licked my lips.
Someone said something but my mind was blacked out with anger. Everything before me became a splattering of red against the naked trees and evergreens.
My knife did not plunge easily into the big man. He was taller and stronger than me, but I was the God-damned Magpie. With every ounce of strength I plunged the knife deep into his chest, feeling the squelch of the blade.
The man stumbled back, gasping and whimpering. I turned to the woman who kneeled beside him now. I could hear her weeping.
My knife went easier into her, she had softer skin and less muscle to fight off my slashes.
I only stopped when both lay still before me. A puddle of blood had formed, flowing like a river down the small trail we were on.
I scooped what I could up to my lips, and I drank.
I drank like I had never tasted anything so sweet, anything so delicious. It was like feasting on royal wine.
I rubbed my hands over my face, taking in the smell of the blood. My stomach growled.
I knew what I had to do.
I suck my teeth into the arm of the woman. My canines hit straight to her bone and I tore the flesh from it like a starving animal. I was a predator. A hunter.
Iron filled my senses and I lapped at it like it was liquid gold. The precious rubies falling from her skin fell effortlessly down my throat.
Blood was my treasure.
“Maggie?” I stopped and turned around to see Vira standing behind me. “What have you done?”
I couldn't answer. Hot shame flooded through my guts, sending guilt to clear my brain. What the fuck had I done?
I stared at my bloody hands, feeling the warm and sticky substance between them. My brain was yelling at me to lick it off, but I could feel Vira’s horrified eyes on me.
“What the fuck have you done?” She repeated. That was the first time I heard her swear.
I stumbled to my feet, my shirt was stuck flush to my skin and it hit me what I’d done.
I had killed to feed. I was willingly feeding on human flesh and not just to show off for the Queen. Terror racked through me.
“I don't know what's going on.”
My head felt hot and tears started to flow down my cheeks. Something was wrong. Something was so very wrong. I was committing sin I would never think to repeat. I was becoming what I had feared.
I was becoming a Corvae.
“Vira, you have to help me. I don't know what's going on.”
“Drop the knife.” Vira trembled. I obeyed and set it down. I held my hands out to show her I meant no harm. I wanted to protect her, not hurt her. “What have you done, Maggie?”
I sobbed silently, feeling my shoulders shake. Vira didn't make a move towards me. I wish she would. I wished she would hold me and hug me and tell me she loved me.
“They were going to hurt me.”
“They weren't going to do shit to you, Maggie. They were townspeople. I thought you were mad at me for feeding on flesh, and yet here you are, killing and feasting.”
“No- I can't control it.”
Vira bit her lip and looked up at the sky. “It’s too late.”
“What’s too late?”
“You’re changing, Maggie. You’re sick. I don't know what’s going on but we need to get you back to the castle where they can help you.”
“No. No, they can't help me. They’ll hurt me, Vira. They’ll kill me.”
“Like you just killed them?”
“They’re going to kill me. I'm scared, I don't understand. I'm scared, Vira. I'm so scared. I don't want to be a monster.”
“Please. You’re only going to get worse.”
“Okay.”
Vira grabbed my arm and pulled me back from the way she came. All I could think of was the smell and taste of blood and meat and how it felt so good against my skin and lips. It was almost perverse how badly I wanted it.
I blacked out until we got to the castle. The familiar darkness and smell of heat wafted into my senses and awoke me. My clothing was sticky with blood and Vira looked dishevelled.
I clung to Vira’s hand while she led me to her mothers office.
“My Lady? Maggie needs help, we don't know what's going on.”
The door opened slowly and the Queen loomed with a knowing smirk. “Look what the cat dragged in. Maggie, I do hope that’s not your blood.”
I glared at her hoping my eyes drilled lasers into her skin. “What’s happening to me?”
“Come in, my dears.”
We followed the Queen through the doorway. I almost collapsed on the chair when I saw it, but I held my ground. “What is happening to me?” I repeated.
“Sit down.” I sat. Vira stood defensively beside me. “Maggie, I’m not going to harm you today, so no need to be on guard, alright?”
I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Vira placed a hand on my shoulder and I flinched.
“I think it’s time for a history lesson.” The Queen stated, sitting and folding her hands in front of her. “But first, Maggie, tell me what you feel.”
“Hungry. Hungry and angry and scared.”
“Like a frightened wild animal?”
“Yes.”
“Vira, sit down. You’re bothering me with how you’re standing. Don't look so tense, I am your mother.”
Vira sat obediently, staring straight ahead with her sharp eyes.
“In the beginning, when the Popphagus came to Earth to feed as the first daughter of the void, as you now know. The seven children of the void were born for one purpose, to help foster life on Earth, but three other gods came before them. The Void is the creator of all. It created the sun, the stars and the Earth, but it also made the God of War, the God of Famine and the God of Death and the God of Disease. These are known as the first influences on our Earth. They are why our life has significance- because we all must die. The Children of the Void were acquainted with all of these gods but one, the God of Disease.
The God of Disease has no visible form. It is festering rot and vile bacteria, it is essential to our lives but we do not welcome it. The God of Disease became a bitter, hateful force. It wanted all of Earth’s children to give their lives up to its destruction. It was resentful of the influence and recognition the other gods got. And so, the God of Disease placed a great curse on the Children of the Void and of the Earth.”
“A curse?” Vira asked.
“For every nation, a plague lingered beneath the society's surface, begging to be awakened. It spreads from person to person without their knowledge, completely asymptomatic until the right circumstances occur. What these circumstances are differ from nation to nation, depending on the God they worshipped. It is the highest divine punishment for displeasing a god.”
“So we’re all punished for something that happened millions of years ago and we had no partake in?”
“Well, I suppose. The Gods are spiteful beings afterall. Any grudge against your blood will span for a millennium.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“Magpie, the curse has been awakened inside you. You are being consumed by the will of our God’s. You are the plague that will corrupt our nation.”
“What the fuck?”
“I’m afraid I lied earlier. I’m going to have to kill you before you harm anyone else. This plague should not spread to others?”
“No, what? How did I awaken it? What did I do?”
“Why do you think I sent my husband to encourage you to participate in our delicacies?”
My stomach dropped and my pulse sped up. I could feel the heat in my ears and I swallowed hard.
It was all just another lie.
“You slimy fucking bitch.” I hissed.
“If you keep giving into your anger, it will consume you.”
“What did you do to me?”
“A little encouraging. I did not plan to have you around after our first dinner, but my daughter had other plans. This was not my will, Magpie. You were the one who fell for it, feasting on the blood and meat of innocents.”
“You fucking monster. What did you do?” I stood, knocking the chair back.
“It started when you first tasted the flesh of your friend, Fennec. That was the first step. After that, the seed had been planted and you began to get sick. At that point, you would have survived with a light flu and maybe a cough. But you've been a very bad girl, Maggie. You have feasted on the flesh of your own people and you loved it. Admit it, you love it.”
“I don't understand.”
“When you ate the flesh of your own free will, you solidified the curse and gave it power within you. All I had to do was serve the meat, and you bit it like a desperate fish on a hook.”
“So why aren't you sick?”
“I have royal blood in me. The blood of the royalty saves us from being ill so we can live our commands and lives without worry. When someone from the royals gets married, their partner gets injected with our blood. They become one of us, physically and by law, so they can withstand the meat’s temptation. Human flesh works for us like a drug, it draws us in and we can't get enough. Sooner than later to a normal avis, it takes over your mind like a corruption.”
“You monster. You knew this would happen.”
The Queen smirked an infuriatingly smug smile. “I only heard rumours I didn't know it would actually happen.”
“You put Maggie in danger for your sick games?” Vira spat.
“Vira, you knew she’d die either way. Why not experiment.”
“You're sick.”
I clutched my head in agony. Everything was a lie and now I was doomed to kill everyone around me or die myself. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair this wasn't fair. Why me? Why is this happening to me?
Tears streamed down my face. This bitch had ruined my life, ruined what I loved. She corrupted me over and over again and tricked me for her own amusement. She was the worst evil that could survive in this nightmare.
“Oh, don't cry Maggie. We’ll get this over with and make your execution fast.”
I looked dead into the Queen’s eyes, fire fueling the blood rushing through my body. But then I stopped. I remembered what she had said, if I let the anger consume me it would only get worse.
“Vira, I think it’s time. I'm doomed either way. I should just die now before I hurt anyone else.”
“No Maggie, that’s not fair. You can't do this to me.”
“Vira, it’s okay. It’s time to let me go.”
Vira’s eyes filled with tears and she ripped the mask off her face. “What do you think you’re doing to me, you fucking ass. You're playing with my feelings. I love you. I don't want you to die. Surely there's something we could do to postpone the effects. Fuck, we don't even know what the effects of the plague are. Maybe you won't die and we can live and-”
“Vira.” Hot tears fell against my lips. “Please, even if I live, I’ll live in agony knowing the curse that's tearing me apart. This is the best option.”
“No, Maggie. Maggie please no- Don't go. Don't leave me. I need you, Maggie, please.”
“I'm a monster.” I stated. “You won't love me when this disease gets worse. Let's just rip the bandaid off.”
It looked like Vira was going to hit me, but instead she grabbed my shirt and pulled me in for a hug.
“This is all my fault, if I never brought you back here this wouldn't’ve happened. I'm so sorry Maggie. It's all my fault.”
I held her closer, feeling the Princess sob against my shoulder. I rubbed her back and let myself feel her grief as deeply as she was feeling it herself.
“I love you, Vira.”
“Are you done? I have the executioner waiting downstairs. Everything is ready.”
I took a deep breath.
“No please, just a little longer-”
I stepped back from Vira and gave her a sad smile. “You’ll be okay.” I nodded to the Queen. “I'm ready.”
The Queen took my hand and I took Vira’s. I felt terribly betrayed by everyone I had trusted. Everything that brought me to this moment was out of my control. The Queen smiled at me and I felt ill.
Dread coursed through my veins while I walked down the hallways that had tormented me. This castle was my prison, now and forever. Vira squeezed my hand and I looked at her tear stained face. She was so beautiful even when she cried.
We stood at the door to the basement, the one that was always locked. I watched as the Queen slid a small silver key into the door and turned it. It creaked open with the weight of centuries on its shoulders.
Walking down the narrow staircase was a challenge, there was little to no light so every step was a guessing game. Neither Vira nor the Queen tripped on the old steps.
As I reached the bottom, the thick smell of rot hit my nose. Disgusting, horrid rotting meat and decay that was as thick as smog, wafting over me. I gagged on the smell, choking on the terrible feeling that I would become a rotting body sooner than later.
They walked me down a corridor to a small door tucked against a wall. As my eyes adjusted, I was able to see the dark splotches on the ground beneath me. A morbid welcoming committee to my death.
“Say your goodbyes, girls. This is where we must split.”
Vira clenched my hand tighter. I could feel her shaking. “There has to be a way, Maggie. There has to be something we can do. Please, don't leave me.”
I smiled in the darkness and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be okay, Vira. I promise it’ll be okay.” Into her hand, I tucked Fennec’s bell from my pocket. I could feel her warm tears against my cheek.
“I love you, Maggie.”
“I know, Vira. I love you too.”
Vira pulled back from our hug before wrapping a tight arm around my neck and pulling my face flushed against hers. I took a step back in shock, before relaxing and leaning into the kiss.
She was so warm, so loving. Her lips were sweet and soft and so very comforting and I found every ounce of tension draining from my body. I placed a hand on her jawline and kissed her harder. Her face was wet with tears and I could feel her trembling against me.
I pulled back first. “I’ll always love you, Vira. I'm sorry we couldn't have more time together.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes. I turned to the Queen who opened the door.
My destiny awaited me beyond these steps.

Chapter Text

My heart pounded in my chest. I could feel my bones trembling with terror. The darkness was consuming me as the Queen closed the door. This was it. This was the end.
I listened to the silence. The eery chill of the darkness is like a thick blanket of snow burying me from the surface. It was quiet. So, so very quiet.
My eyes could not adjust as this darkness was all consuming. There was no light in this void. There was nothing to comfort or surround me. Nothing to protect me from the cruel grips of fate.
And so I walked.
I walked into the darkness, thinking thoughts of my life, my lovers. I thought of Vira’s beaming face and Fennec’s gentle touch. I thought of how much they had loved me. And I thought of my mother. My mom washed my hair on days it was too much for me to manage. My mother who cared so deeply for me, a child of sin and despair. A gloomy rain cloud on her shining summer afternoon.
I did not feel lonely in this void. The darkness was not my friend, I couldn’t say it wouldn’t hurt me, but it was a presence. It would be worse to be completely alone, void from the comfort of the empty light. It would be worse to feel even more isolated.
And I thought back to my roots. I thought about the memories of my childhood, long repressed for their happiness that would bring me joy no longer. I thought I was a being made for self destruction but maybe I was only me.
I didn't know how long I walked or where I was going. There was nothing to mark the time other than the steady flow of my breath. Maybe I am standing amongst barren corpses, starved from light and gluttony for a millenia. Maybe that will be me to punish me for the sins I had and had not created.
I crouched and touched the floor beneath my boots. It was cold.
I bit my finger to see if I was still alive. Pain whistled through my hands and I could feel warmth on my finger tips. I didn't think I was dead.
I think death would be a lot more painful and a lot more of nothing. Returning to the Void from where we once came, or not. Why was the void so cruel to its children?
Shit!
A blast of pain ran from my spine up to my shoulder blades and down my arms. Agony took over what was left of my form and began to tear me apart from the inside out. I placed my hands on my chest but I could feel no wound.
I cried out, stumbling backwards as my legs began to sob as well. Pain consumed me, the heat and ache and tear of being torn apart from my atoms. It was worse than any pain I’d felt before. Worse than any muscle ache, or cut or hit. It felt like every joint in my body was being cut off, I was being dissected alive.
I whimpered in pain while clutching my stomach. Heat exploded in my shoulder blades and I cried out.
Is this the end? Is this how I will be punished for my sins? My blasphemy? Is this all there is?
The roof of my mouth stung and ached and my teeth felt like they were going to fall out. I clenched my hair and screamed out.
Why wasn't it over yet? Why wasn't this agony letting me go? Why did it hurt so fucking bad?
Make it stop.
Make it stop. Make it Stop.
Make it stop
Make it stop
Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Hundreds of thousands of voices screamed in my head over and over again. Tears fell from my eyes but I could hardly register anything. The agony was subsiding into pure pins and needles. When I cried out, my voice was not my own.
The Void was torturing me for my sin against my God. This would be my eternal hell, living in agony until my soul collapsed in on itself and created its own black hole. I screamed and sobbed and scratched at my skin, trying to pull whatever was hurting me out. It was in my skin. It was as if every blood vessel had turned to dynamite.
Make it stop.
I collapsed on the floor into the smallest ball I could make myself into. I was being burned alive and it hurt so fucking bad.
I thought I was about to give in, to pass out amongst the darkness and to rot here amongst the corpses and the void. But then it stopped.
Every atom that was on fire stopped all at once, until I was just a sobbing ball on the ground, clutching at my skin and my dress.
My clothing had torn, I could feel the holes and I could feel it draping off me. My nails sliced through the surface like a pin on a sheet of paper.
But I was alive.
Without thinking, I bolted to what I thought was the way I came. I ran and my feet hit the ground with thuds and thwaps that made me cringe. I ran as fast as I could until I slammed hard into a wall.
Fuck.
More agony ran through my body, I clutched at my head as I fumbled for the door. I felt along the cracks until I found the knob, and then I turned it.
It was locked.
I tried again and again, feeling the resistance and my hope draining. I was fucking fed up of being treated this way.
I slammed my shoulder into the door hard. It didn't budge.
I slammed again and again until the agony began to consume my body again. But this time, fire lit within my core and without thinking I slammed myself even harder against the door.
It fell open.
Light streamed into my eyes where there had been none before. I squinted to try and see against the blinding white essence that was forming in front of me.
I spread my arms wide and I charged right through the light in front of me, a chill running over me.
I ran and ran until I hit the stairs, I tripped up them clumsily before slamming into the basement door. It swung open with no resistance.
The castle was so bright, I couldn't see anything. I couldn't feel anything. I could only taste the blinding light. Why was it so bright? It was never this light in the castle and especially not for this time of day.
I charged forward, unsure of where I was going. I couldn't hear anything or anyone around me. Maybe I really had died?
But then I heard music, soft playing harps and gentle chimes and I knew I would find peace there.
I ran towards the sound, trying to catch the feeble melody in my hands. It was so bright. So agonisingly bright and brilliant and it felt so cool against my skin. I was so hot. I was burning like a fucking star and it was so bright.
“Oh my God.”
I whipped around to see the voice. It sounded like Vira. I almost sobbed in relief.
“Vira? Vira, where are you?” But my voice was not my own. It was distorted and scratched. It sounded like an amalgamation of voices was crying all as one. “I can't see anything, Vira, help.” I trembled. I sounded like a frail child.
“Maggie? Maggie is that you?”
I felt a coldness touch my skin. I squinted, trying to see through the light. “Vira..?”
Coldness embraced my form. I could feel it surrounding and consuming me and suddenly it wasn't so bright.
I could see Vira’s face. She was pink with tears and she was so beautiful and cold and comforting and I could feel her delicate embrace.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“I don't know… I think you need to look in a mirror.” She took my hand and brought me to the bathroom. I could see if I squinted hard enough, but my vision was still blurry. “Please don't scream, I don't want you to wake the Queen.”
Wake? What time was it? Vira slowly held a mirror up to my face and I squinted to see.
My eyes had turned completely black. No iris, no whites of my eyes, it was all an inky black where my eyes were. My mouth was warped and my teeth seemed sharper. Blood stained against my forehead and my short hair was a mess.
But then it hit me.
My skin had turned an inky black, it looked like I was absorbing every drop of light around me. When I held out my hand I could barely see it. It was like trying to focus in on a hallucination. I was nothing.
“What the fuck.”
“I don't know. When I first saw you, you were incredibly feathery and inky and. Well. You looked like the Popphagus.”
“What the fuck.” I gripped what I could of my hair but my hands weren't able to keep hold of my form. “What’s wrong with me? What the fuck happened?”
“I don't know. I've never seen anything like this.” She grabbed my arm and watched as her hand almost fazed through me.
“It hurt so bad. It hurt so bad, Vira. Oh God. I felt like I was dying.”
“I'm so sorry, Maggie. I should’ve tried harder to save you. I'm so sorry.”
“I'm a fucking monster.”
“Yeah. It's pretty fucking badass though-”
I laughed and my voice warped. My throat hurt and I rubbed my eyes. “I can barely see. Everything is too bright.”
“It’s 3 in the morning, Maggie, there’s barely any light.”
“It’s too bright. All I see is white light.” I turned to the sound of her voice. “Were you playing the harp?”
“Yeah. I was. I've played since I was younger.”
“It was beautiful.”
“You flatter me.”
“How long was I in there?”
“Around two days. I don't know exactly, time kind of got blurry after you left.”
I leaned in and squinted at her face. “You look sickly.”
“You're one to talk.”
I laughed.
“It’s fitting though. You’re like… the Void now.”
“It feels like the Void just vomited me out through its sickly vagina. I feel like I just had the most traumatising birth.”
“I see you're still the same, as unflattering as ever.”
I smiled and touched her hand. “Am I still attractive?”
“I think so.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. Cold tingles through me.
“And I'm so hot. So fucking hot.”
“That’s damn right.” Vira giggled softly. I punched her shoulder.
We settled into uncomfortable silence. I could feel the blood shifting in my body. My skin was hot and pulsing and I could hear every shift in the walls and the flooring. Vira did look sickly, her skin was more pale than usual and her face was gaunt. She looked like she hadn't eaten since I left, and her hands trembled silently.
“What's going to happen to me?” The question weighed heavily in my mind. It wasn't safe for me to stay here, and who knows what would happen in the wild?
“I can tell you.”
My head whipped around, my vision still white. I could feel my skin growing hotter and little pins and needles formed against me. I felt my stomach fill with burning anger. The Queen faced me, glowing darkly amongst the white light.
“Get out.”
“What would you do without me, Magpie? How would you understand what was going on?”
I huffed. “Tell me what happened.”
“You were infected. You were infected with a curse festering your rage and your greed and it consumed you. You are consumed by every ounce of hatred that lives in your body. It possesses you, it will destroy you, hell, it is destroying you. You are the accumulation of the rage of yourself and every living person in this nation. You are becoming a monster.”
“You are the only fucking monster here.”
“Easy, Magpie. Isn't it glorious to feel the power washing through your veins? Isn't it everything you've dreamed of? To command the will and fear of everyone who tortured you?”
“You did this, didn't you?”
The Queen smiled. I could see her shiny teeth glistening maliciously amongst her black lips. “Guilty as charged. I couldn't afford to let your potential go to waste.”
I wanted to scream. To smack her stupid smile off her face, to let the void and the anger consume me completely.
But Vira hit her first. A clean right hook flying smoothly across the Queen’s face. I felt like I was watching in slow motion. The Queen let out a cry before turning furiously towards Vira.
I stood in front of her, guarding the Princess behind me. This monster wasn't going to destroy her like she destroyed me. I could see the inky black feathers forming against my arms.
“Stay away from her,” I warned.
“Or what? You’re a pathetic, gullible little girl, Magpie. No matter what, the damage will always be done. You can only make things worse.”
“Stay away from Vira. You've done enough.”
“Need I remind you who’s the real monster here? You are a disgrace to our village, vulnerable and stupid little bird. The best thing that could ever happen to you was what I did to you. The best thing that could've happened to you or Vira came from my hands and my reign. You can hate me all you want, but you can't deny that I brought you together and made you incredible.”
“Shut up already.” Vira hissed. I could feel her moving from behind me so she could face her mother head on. “You didn't raise me. You didn't make me who I am. You didn't bring Maggie and I together. You neglected me in a shitty room in the basement where I learned off videos and books and deathly sick birds and rats. You told me it was normal to eat my own species, to fester my own gluttony. You made me think I wanted to be queen, when all I ever wanted was to make you proud of me.”
Vira passed me. I could see the shift in lighting as she drew nearer. “I hate you. I despise everything you are and what you stand for. And that isn’t because of Maggie's influence, it’s because I realised how much you love to hurt me. How much you love to hurt everyone I love because you can't stand that I’m not the little girl you abandoned.”
“I didn't abandon you, I am your mother and I was teaching you the ways of our tradition.”
“Yeah, well maybe our traditions fucking suck.”
A slap rang out amongst the eerie silence. I squinted to watch as the two girls approached each other, enraged with everything they had become. I could feel myself feeding off the anger, I could feel the pins and needles shifting in my skin. I could feel myself growing powerful.
“I hate you.” Vira screamed, slapping her mother again. “Why do you think I never call you mom? It was never out of respect. You may have brought me into this world but you did not care for me in it. You are not my mother.”
I listened to the drawing of a blade. I took a step forward defensively, spreading my feathered arm to shield Vira.
“I never thought I’d be disowned by my own daughter. I loved you. I respected you when you changed your name and your pronouns. I did everything I could for you, and this is how you repay me? I fed you and held you while you cried and I bought you medication that was specially made for you. You would’ve been a lowly peasant in the village if it wasn't for me.”
“Not everyone lives for wealth and food, My Queen. I would’ve been fine without you.”
“You would be nothing without me.” With that, the Queen dashed forward with her blade held high and proud. I sheltered Vira with as much of my body as I could, keeping a wide space between her and the Queen.
The Queen sliced at me, throwing her rapier blade sloppily like an untrained night. It wasn't hard to dodge her. Maybe I was getting cocky. Maybe the pride and the greed was getting to my head.
And then she hit me. The Queen’s blade slid right through the centre of my torso. Splitting pain filled me, but not from the gash in my chest. I let out a scream and knocked the Queen back hard until she landed on the floor. I stood over her like a wolf admiring its prey.
“I think it’s time for you to retire.” I hissed.
Vira grabbed the blade from her mother’s hand. The Queen made no attempt to struggle.
The Princess brought the blade down hard on the Queen’s neck.
A splattering of blood as bright and brilliant as rubies spilled along the palace floor. I watched the Queen’s eyes fade and the colour drained from her face. I leaned down and checked her pulse.
She was dead.

Chapter Text

“What do we do now?” I asked, turning to Vira’s face. The brightness was slowly starting to fade and I was able to see more of the world surrounding me.
She was crying. She was crying hard and trembling so horribly so I ran to her. I ran and clutched her. I held her like a child to my chest, letting her sadness leach out. She’d been through a lot recently.
“I don't know.” She whimpered against my shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay. She’s gone now. She won't hurt any of us anymore.”
Vira nodded, pulling back to bite her perfectly painted nails. I kept my hand on her shoulder.
“What have I done?” She sobbed.
I ran a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead. “You did exactly what you had to.”
“I don't feel bad about it.”
“Good. She’s had it coming for a long time.”
Without thinking, I reached down to the Queen’s chest before tearing it open with my fingers. I snapped her ribcage and latched onto her heart, pulling its slow beating pulse out of the Queen’s chest.
Vira watched as I brought the Queen’s heart to my lips and swallowed it whole, just like a snake may have. It tasted thick and warm, blood dripping down my face before I turned away.
It felt awfully good to feed on someone so vile and inhumane. It felt natural to make her pay the way she hurt others. I unhinged my jaw to swallow the organ whole.
Vira sobbed silently, kneeling at her mother’s ruined dress. I crouched beside her.
“I'm sorry. I know she sucked but she was still your mom.”
Vira nodded and placed her head on my shoulder. I could hear her shaky breathing and feel her trembling. I couldn't help but feel terrible for her. We sat in silence, clutching each other tightly like our lives depended on it. The way we were sitting was greatly uncomfortable, so we both sat down next to each other. I took Vira’s hand.
“How are we going to tell your dad?”
“I don't think he ever liked her that much anyways.”
“What do we tell the people?”
“The truth, I think. We let them know about their loved ones' fates. We tell them about the other nations and the truth of our society. It’ll break them, but I think they need to know.”
“Will it cause a revolution, do you think?”
“I have no idea, Maggie.”
She held my hand a little tighter, bringing me closer to the coolness of her body. My vision had settled and the adrenaline had passed.
The pins in my body subsided, now all I felt was numbness. She was dead, the Queen was really dead. The nation was free of her power. Free of her torture and inhumane ideals. I smiled at Vira. She smiled back.
“Will we be okay?” She asked.
I nodded. “I think so.”
“We both have killed now. We both are murderers. That’s terrible.”
“It’s out of our control. Many people have killed others before and never knew it. Grief is grief and will pass eventually.”
“I'm not sure. I don't want people to hurt.”
I nodded slowly. My hand appeared more skin tone like instead of dark black and light sucking. Emotions really did consume me, and they turned me into more of a monster.
“The nation will need a ruler, and I don't think my dad is really up for the challenge.” Vira said, breaking my train of thought.
“You would make a fantastic queen.”
“So would you.”
I smiled sadly. “I don't think I can stay here, Vira.”
“Why not?” She tilted her head, looking sadly at me.
“Look at me. I'm something that belongs in a shitty novel about cryptids. I'm something of a legend, not something made to rule. I've already become one thing I hated, I couldn’t bear to be more.”
“When you aren't angry, it lessens, see? We can do research and understand what’s going on and how to manage it. I want you to stay with me.”
“I want to stay with you too, but think about it. If this is the most tame nation, who are we to sit and let the others suffer? Who are we to not do our part in saving others from their own hell?”
Vira looked like she was about to start crying. She wiped the blood from my lips. “I’ll come with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re not leaving immediately, and you won't have a despicable and angry queen chasing after you and wishing you dead. We could travel the nation, we could talk to the other people in this world. We could warn them of the plague. You were the first infected, I’m sure you won't be the last.”
“We need to tell the people. We need to show them. I don't want more people getting hurt by this curse. It’s destroying me. Vira, what if it forces me to die early?”
“Then we live every moment like it's our last. Come, let’s clean up.”
I watched as Vira stood, lifting the mask her mother always wore. I looked at the dead woman before me. She had thin eyebrows and dark lips in a perfect cupid's bow, just like Vira. Her face was splattered in freckles and moles, and her eyes looked tired. I almost felt bad for her, she looked so human like this.
Vira took her own mask off and I stopped her before she could put her mothers on. I pulled her in and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I relaxed into her. I kissed her slowly, like we had all the time in the world to be together.
For the first time in a very long time, I relaxed completely. My tension drained and coolness spread through me, washing out the adrenaline. My body felt so whole, so loved with Vira. I could spend my life loving and admiring her. Travelling with her and exploring and experiencing everything new.
“We’re going to need a new queen…” Vira whispered against my lips.
Our noses bumped together and I smiled at her.
“I think I know someone who would be a good fit.”
My home looked the same as it had a few days ago. The windows were still closed tight and I could see shifting shadows in the dark. I knocked hesitantly, clutching Vira’s hand.
The Void consuming me had calmed down enough that my body appeared slightly less transparent and dark. I looked about as normal as I'd get for a long time.
My mother opened the door slowly, her auburn hair in a messy bun. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before stopping in horror.
“Oh Maggie, what happened to you?” She gasped, putting a hand on my shoulder and pulling me in for a hug.
“Mom, this is Vira. There’s a lot to explain, can we come in?”
She nodded and opened the door. “I'll make us some tea. Come in, please.”
I nodded at Vira and we stepped in. I took my bloody shoes off, cringing at the messy state they were in. Vira sat down first and I followed. My mother brought over three cups of tea that let off a sweet aroma.
I looked at Vira. “Where do I start…” Vira placed her hand on my thigh.
I relayed everything that happened since Festum Gulae, everything I’d seen, everything I’d done. I confessed it all like I was confessing my sins. Vira chimed in to add points or details I skipped. About Fennec, about tributes, about the Queen and the palace and the horrors I saw. Everything spilled from my lips.
“Holy shit.” She whispered. My mother took a long sip from her drink.
“Vira and I need to go to the other nations. We want to try to save them and integrate them a little, just so we’re not so horribly isolated. Everything is so fucked up, we were hoping we could help. But that means we’re going to need someone to take over as the queen…”
“That’s why we came to you, Mrs Hart.” Vira added.
“You can just call me Aurora, Vira. No need to be so formal.” She bit her lip in thought.
“I know it’s a lot to process.”
“Why don't you stay the night? It’s 4 in the morning. I'm exhausted and it sounds like you two need some rest. We can talk more in the morning.” My mother spoke gently.
“Okay. Thank you.” She nodded.
I escorted Vira to my room, showing her my blanket nest in the same place it had been when I left it. Vira laughed softly.
I rearranged the blankets before lying down, spreading my arms and welcoming Vira in. Vira slipped in, nestling into my neck and against the warmth of my own body. I held her tightly, running a hand through her hair.
“I was so scared I lost you, Maggie. I was so scared…”
I kissed her forehead. “I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't do more.” She weeped softly. I pulled her closer to my chest, clutching her like a treasure.
“Vira, you have done so much more than you think for me. You’reone of the few who actually tried to tolerate me, even with my squawking and name calling. You’ve been incredible and so caring to me. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. When I was in that hell, all I could think of was you and protecting you. All I need is you to be safe, and we'll be okay. We’ll figure this all out, together.”
“Are you sure you want to be with me?”
“More sure than anything.”
She nodded, burying her head into my chest. I held her while she cried, doing my best to comfort her.
We drifted off together, her tightly held in my arms. It was just us. Only us against the world. If this was my last day on earth, I would be happy to die here with the Princess in my arms.
My dreams were null. My mind was surrounded by void and anger. All I could see was dark, but I could still feel Vira against me as I slept. The Void can consume me, but it could never consume our love.
But then, my mind stopped forming nothing and began to form something. My dreamless sleep alerted me, and I turned to face a hooded figure. They were dark and about a head shorter than me. I looked around, but the Void was still sick with encompassing me.
“Who are you?” I barked. My voice warped and wobbled with the pressure of the black hole around us. The dark hooded figure turned towards me. I could see her hair braided into sections that dangled over her shoulders.
But she was wearing a skeletal cat mask. The cat’s canines dipped over her mouth, leaving her leering smile appearing so much more dangerous.
“I’ve been waiting, Magpie.” Her voice was smooth and thick, it felt like speaking with a swollen tongue.
“Who are you?” I repeated, trying to be more forceful.
“Your Princess is waking. Go now. We will meet again shortly.”
A punching feeling to the gut sent me gasping awake. My side ached and I hissed, expecting to see an intruder.
“Ack! Sorry!” The Princess moved her elbow off my side.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you- are you okay?”
“I think I was having a weird dream.”
“Mm? What happened?”
I thought for a second. “I don't know.”
Vira smiled softly and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Can I make you breakfast?”
“Sure, but it won't be palace-level of delicacies.”
“I think that’s probably a good thing. I might go vegetarian.”
I laughed and stretched my arms, feeling my bones ache with sleep. “Can I ask a silly request?”
“Shoot.”
“Will you teach me how to dance?”
Vira’s eyes lit up. “I would absolutely love to.”
I closed my eyes. I was getting used to my blurry vision. I could see to a degree, but it was blurry like everything was over exposed. When I closed my eyes, they ached like they were caught on fire. My whole body ached like I was just burned to ashes and reformed again.
I rubbed my face with my hands. I could hear Vira’s light breathing. She sounded so peaceful, so lovely. And I felt genuinely happy I was here with her instead of dead or living alone. I finally found someone who loved me so fully and could understand me. She was my blessing.
I felt the bed shift from the loss of weight as Vira stood to go to the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes again and trailed after her. The house I could navigate with my eyes closed was still familiar to my feet. They still knew the path better than I did with my eyes open.
Vira grabbed my hand. “How are your eyes?”
“Blurry.”
She walked me down the stairs. I took tentative steps. The smell of mildew and fresh bread washed over me, my stomach growled. Somewhere deep within me I knew I was hungry for flesh, but I would not indulge that fantasy this morning.
I listened to the Princess’s footsteps as she walked to our fridge and pantry, retrieving who knows what from the cupboards within. I leaned against the table, smiling softly.
“Good morning, girls.” Mother chimed. I nodded in her direction and listened to her walk over to me. Keeping my eyes shut was much easier than suffering through the blinding light. “Did you guys sleep well?”
I nodded and heard a soft ‘mhm’ from Vira. My mother seemed satisfied and took a seat behind me.
“I don't think I’ll ever get used to this new look, Maggie.”
“Can you describe it for me? I can't really see myself properly.”
My mother shifted. “You look like yourself, but you’re almost transparent in places. Your hair is darker and your eyes are white. Your hands to your elbow are darker, almost black claws. Your hair is a disaster, though I think that’s just you.”
I nodded, trying to picture myself. “Vira said I had bird feathers.”
“That’s when you were angry.”
“Interesting.” My mother sounded thoughtful. “So… excuse my asking but, what are you two? Are you officially together?”
My face heated up. I wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Vira and I hadn't had this talk, we had only had a few things on our plates.
“We’re together.” Vira said confidently. I smiled. Girlfriends.
I listened to Vira set the plates down on the table. I couldn't tell what she had made, but it smelled good. I sat down quietly and felt the Princess slip behind me.
“I was thinking about your offer.” My mother continued.
I heard Vira say something but my mind didn't process it. I was thinking about the hooded figure with the cat mask.
“I’ll do it. I’ll be the Queen.”
“Are you sure, Lady Aurora? It’s a lot of work.”
“I raised Maggie, I’m sure I can handle it.”
I bit into my food, savouring the fluffy texture and sweet taste. My mother would be the Queen. She would rule and fix this mess we live in. She would make everything better.
I smiled.
“Thank you, My Queen.

We returned back to the castle. The thick fence that surrounded it looked like nothing but a playpen when all your fear of the place was dissolved.cit still loomed, but it was less threatening. We took the new queen inside where servants awaited eagerly.
I think they were surprised at Vira’s unmasked face. No one had really seen her before this. No one saw how beautiful she was. I greet the servant and so does my mother. She sticks her hand out for the gentleman to shake it. She fitted in here quite easily. She was an elegant woman by nature.
We showed the new queen the secrets of the castle. Every passageway and window ledge that I thought she may like seeing. We introduced her to every servant, she greeted them with a bow and a kiss.
A servant explained the King had been so heart broken by his wife’s fate that he had taken his own life. Another explained that the King had fled to the nation of Wrath to explore his vendetta against me. Another said he merely never existed, a collective hallucination. We concluded he wasn't here.
Vira squeezed my hand and pulled me over to the side. She brushed my cheek and looked me into the eyes.
“Are you sure you want to leave?”
“Positive. We have lives to change.” Vira nodded.
We showed my mom to the Queen's room with all her trinkets and gadgets, we showed her around the castle and to the main dining hall.
“How do we tell the people the Queen is dead?” Mother asked.
“We don't. Tell them they're on an indefinite business trip and you were elected to take over for the time being. I don't want an uproar from society when you're just getting settled here.”
“That makes sense, but we have to tell them eventually.” I added.
I squinted at the two women beside me. The two women who loved me so dearly and would do anything for me. The women who wanted to take care of me when I got sick, and kiss my forehead when I cried. I didn't want to leave them. But there wasn't much of a choice. I still looked like a monster and everything was enough to put them in danger somehow.
I touched Vira’s hand.
“While I’m here, I’ll show you where every information folder you might need is. And, if you have questions, I can send you a litre or a screaming stick. Anything to get the message through.” Vira said while I nodded. “I'll give you a basic rundown, but don't be afraid of asking for help.”
She laughed. “Thank you Vira, but I’m sure I'll figure it out”
“Come to the library, Lady Aurora. I’ll show you the archives.”

Approximately three days later, the Queen was set and rushed for an emergency coronation. My father attended, looking pleased while I scowled. The nation welcomed her as what they thought was a temporary queen. I was glad I wouldn't be around to see them when they found out the truth.
My Queen was well dressed with her hair and makeup done. She looked like a real princess. I hoped she felt that way.
Vira and I had stayed in the castle while she was trained in etiquette and the proper way to wave. We made plans and scoured maps for a route to the nation rained over by Dormio. We figured it would be our easiest bet as it was closest and, to put it nicely, the least insane.
We read over basic survival techniques, watching documentaries in the basement while my mother studied in the other room. We learned about edible plants and their importance.
And so, that was that. Three days later and extensive knowledge, we bid my mother farewell and set off to the quickest route to Dormio. It would take us a few days, but we packed food and blankets and knives so I figured we’d be okay.
Part of me was upset to leave the place I’d called home, but the other part of me was giddy to get away from the shit show we were in. I hoped my mother would be okay by herself. I knew she only agreed to support me. I'd have to send letters regularly to check up on her.
But I was more worried about what lay ahead, what horrors may be waiting for me. I was excited, but fucking terrified.
As we crossed the village into the forest I noted the amount of ravens sitting on the branches. I counted twelve, chirping and bidding us farewell.
A sign of good luck, something we so desperately needed.

Chapter Text

A figure shrouded in all black stands silently within a forest. They have been waiting for quite some time now, and they don't intend to wait too much longer. They dawn a skeletal cat mask and their hair is a series of sectioned braids.
They are waiting for their prey.
The earth rustles around them as they crouch behind a bush. They listen to the chick-a-dees tweeting and the crows cawing. Birds are no friends of a cat.
They aim their bow and arrow in a direction, pulling back with their toned arms. They almost wish they were being watched so they could be admired for their form. It took an awful lot of training to get this way.
They smile beneath the canine teeth of their mask, before releasing their arrow. It flies sharp and fast and they giggle maniacally. Breakfast was served.
Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant hunting would be off bounds. They had to stock up now before the village went undercover for a few days.
This was their tradition. They took their pills and their injections and they stayed awake for the week, before taking even more pills and drugs to cancel out the prior ones. It was their offering to their god, the value of sleep.
But sleep was no peaceful thing.
Sleep led to tremors and nightmares, horrors beyond comprehension, but worst of all- it led to visions.
The cat-masked person stalks over to their prey. A small chick with an arrow through the chest. There isn't much meat, they’d have to catch another few before sunset hit.
They moved with the precision and grace of a trained warrior. They were not unfamiliar with the act of hunting. They leered and stalked like their life depended on it- which in some ways, it did.
The forest was always quiet at this hour, every animal knew their fate if they made too much noise. The figure was not the only hunter in the village.
They spent the next hour stalking and unsuccessfully shooting down birds. Eventually, they had to give up. The sun was setting, so they would have to purchase from the market if they were looking for more meat.
The village was located off the coast of a small river that bristled and dusted the air with mist. It was popular to fish and trap amongst the river, the salmon were always bountiful and delightful. They had learned how to cook the fish with lemon and butter, which had quickly become one of their favourite meals.
Alas, the markets would be closed tomorrow. So would the lake and the forest, they were essentially on a quarantined lockdown. Failure to comply resulted in direct and public persecution.
The figure rubbed their eyes thinking of the gruesome torture they had witnessed.
They stalked back to their own home, dodging silently from tree to tree, careful to avoid any watchful eyes. The light of the day was time for hunting, gathering, or farming. Night was when the real business began. Markets sparked to life and businesses lit up like a neon junction.
This was their home. They knew tonight’s work would be to study and write for their after-dark school. They had multiple tests coming shortly that they were less than prepared for.
The figure pulled back their hood to reveal their surgically altered ears. The procedure was done at birth to make the ears pointed and sharp. Hearing was crucial in the darkness.
The figure lurks their way over to the nearest stand. They are aware of how their dark skin allows them to blend in with the shadows. They were a natural born hunter. Someone who was made to kill.
The soft merchant welcomes the figure, offering samples of her latest concoction- a drink that gives you the energy of a hundred men for the span of three hours. The figure shook their head and continued on.
“Is that you Fest?”
The figure stops in place and cringes. “What did I tell you about calling me ‘Fest’? It’s Fester. Only Fester. Got it?” Their voice is agitated and thick, they speak with an urgency to them. The other person chuckles softly. Fester is displeased.
“Fester is such an edgy name. Of course you’d pick it.”
“Would you rather I call myself Maribelle and sing lullabies to the animals and feed them flowers before mercilessly killing them so I can make a living?”
“Hm. Maybe it’d be a funny contrast.”
Fester rolled their eyes. They had had about enough of their idiotic sibling. Fester and Thalia, two peas in a pod since birth. Twins with sickening vengeance, awarded the last name ‘Hunt’ for their performance at the last summer’s Numquam Dormientes. They won first place for the survival challenge, where they spent two weeks in the forest not sleeping.
They turned back to the merchant and thanked them for the sample, before briskly walking away into the heart of the busy night market.
Bright lanterns were strung between the stalls, illuminating the streets. Stars were painted along the paved path and the sides of the stalls. A bright moon lantern shone among the central square of the market, hung in the large tree that loomed over the small town. Little star lanterns were littered around the branches of the trees, giving the town a dreamy energy.
The village was busy with life, villagers paced from stall to stall, chatting idly with each vendor. All the talk of the town was how they were excited for the rest period tomorrow. They talked about the dreams they hoped to have.
Fester bit their tongue. They hated dreams.
Every dream they had was of gore, horrific amounts of blood and meat. They watched slaughter after heartless slaughter of humans. Chopped off limbs, fingers, hands. A sea of red blood, dripping down the chins of heartless murderers. A reoccuring figure- a princess with silky black hair and sad eyes, weeping softly over her harp.
Fester was an assassin, but not of humans.
They shook their head, shaking the gore from their mind. They started moving towards their favourite fish stand, fresh catches every day. They greeted the vendor before purchasing a large salmon, enough to feed the twins for the next three days. They handed over the small gold coins, embossed with a two headed cat on it.
The salmon might be enough to feed the twins for three days, but it would barely be enough for the entire family. The twins had three other siblings, all much younger. Fester had raised their siblings since they were born, feeding and bathing and socialising the little ones.
Fester, Thalia, Juniper, Beth, and Sol. Five children under one roof, no parents in sight.
Fester walked to their house, preparing themselves to make their meal. They made this food almost every day, it was their second nature.
They closed the door of their home, trying to keep the door on its hinges. Too many times has the door broken and the kids went cold for the evening. The shitty little shed was barely a home for them, it was all their parents could afford despite working 24/7. Most of the funds went towards their beds. Each child had their own mattress with elegant cushions.
Because the village worshipped sleep, it was their sacred experience, they had to have the most extravagant beds and canopies. Gold leaf was draped through the mesh canopies surrounding their beds. Fester thought it was bullshit how much wealth went towards their sleep.
“Hey, I'm home.” They called, slipping their fur-lined boots off. The weather was getting colder, they’d have to make sure the kids were dressing warmer.
No response. That was weird. Usually, Juniper was the first to come running, he would leap into Fester’s arms asking about what animal Fester had brought home today.
Fester shrugged. Maybe they were out in the backyard’s tree fort.
They walked towards the stove, setting up the little fire within and lighting a match. They popped a pan on overtop, slathering it in butter and lining it with sliced lemons. They filleted the fish, slicing it into 5 equal sections.
A pan rattled by the table. Fester whipped around, baring the kitchen knife.
“Who’s there? Juniper? Is that you?”
They couldn't see anything, no movement around the table. The other kids must be down for their quiet time in the basement. Fester inched forward.
Juniper sprung up from beneath the table, his curly hair bouncing playfully and his eyes full of wonder.
“Fester… Don’t be mad but-”
“What happened? Are you okay?” Fester fussed, reaching towards their brother.
Juniper reached his small hand out. He bit his finger timidly, before pulling Fester over to his room. Fester prepared themselves for the worst- a dead child, an injured child, or something even worse- their parents.
Juniper opened the door.
On their bed sat the princess from their visions, accompanied by a dark form with leering energy.
“Fester, this is Vira and Maggie. They knocked on the door and said they needed help.”
The princess- Vira- held out her arm to reveal a nasty gash that was definitely infected. Maggie, the brooding figure sat silently. They seemed to be sucking in all the light surrounding them.
“What the fuck?”