The troll prophets had said many things. About Fate. The Galaxy. Troll Nature. Frogs. So very much about Frogs. No normal troll talked about frogs. The topic was exhausted. There was no more to say on the matter.
Which is why The Empress of Wrath had not read about frogs from some cherished work or some moldy tome, but from a gnawed-on paperback found in the belongings of a Regent who had recently vacated her right mind. In a rare move, the Empress herself had left her command on the front lines to temporarily administer the post while a new Regent was found. The situation left few that heard about it at ease.
The Empress now, in the quiet of an established palace, read that book.
It was easy to skip ahead when the subject frogs came up… but when the subject came to fate…
Fate was far more cruel than She had ever been. While the Empress of Wrath had personally led successful campaigns against three systems, ordered the death of millions, left tyrant’s heads on stakes outside their own cities…
There was one assurance they all had been given; their deaths would be sure and swift. Their people would be spared.
For the umpteenth time, she felt at the base of her neck, probed the tiny crack. She had no such assurances.
A leisurely death was afforded to few trolls. Death in a flash was preferable to Cycles of regret she now considered facing. The contemplation it afforded… well, the prophets of old who had advocated that were nothing but crazy.
And yet that craziness had got them here. She recognized point after point as page followed page. The Duodecad Fenestration; showing the stars, which the grubs would one day fight among, and their regions. The Doomsday Scale, to constantly remind them of that future danger of holding back. The fated 10 that would escape with their lives.
She hoped all three were equally symbolic. That these wars which her line fought for through the generations would, say, establish ten colonies beyond the range of the Vast Glub. Ten lonely trolls could not hope to carry the legacy of troll kind on their shoulders – much less continue the race, as lusus would die almost as soon as they left Alternian orbit. But in a few more cycles, free of that so-called “Emissary” – naught but a time-weakened HorrorTerror itself – who knew what the science of a freed colony could do?
But it was Star Maps that now lay before her. Her work was not done. A regent had been found; just a quick ceremony, and She would return to command of the lines. So many plans almost to fruition… But… some mote was in her eye. If only there was a way to harden Feferi Peixes. In earlier days, outright destroying her would have been an option; that softie would subvert all Her work. A plan, a plan to kindle a spirit of war in her heart was needed. The Empress would gladly loose her head to Peixes 2x3dent if only the push to safety would continue. If not for that…
Her neck tingles with the vibrations of a thump. Thump, Thump, thump. She looked up, from the maps she could no longer pay attention to, to her own Virtual Fenestration. Small red blips are covering it – an attack? Was it… were.. rebel forces? Several sky-navigators had fallen, now piles of burning slag on the ground. Feet should be rushing to receive her orders, drones by the dozens responding.
But there is silence.
She reaches back to that minuscule crack again. Something was leaking from it. A Dark Haematic was on her fingers. Need to lay down… When had She felt this way before? Where had she hear this mus…
All the notes. Every chorus she had heard in her life. Pain and torture. Wails of joy and fear. All in this indistinguishable note. There was not a word for it.
It just was.
~~
Fires burned until they failed
Winds blew free of feral wail
Mountains fell to never rise
The suns’ wind frees to void the skies
All of this is but a snack
Lone shiny cloud, and pebbles tumbling
mere bits caught between the teeth
bread and butter, maybe – but not beef
___
Originally at https://www.deviantart.com/sudrien/art/Time-Weakened-188923050
…hey, it was written about 1000 images be fore we actually saw Her Imperious Condescension. Or had the name.
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