The sky was going black – It was always dark, starlit, on Derse, the radiance of Skaia so far that it was only known to most as stories. This, though – this was a greater blackness then any of the pawns had known. And it was getting darker.
They should have been rejoicing.
According to the books, after the sheen of Skaia’s light winked out, Derse would eventually fall out of proper time. Fractured time awaited, a pawn aging a year as others looked on, or the whole of all you knew freezing in place until you were driven beyond the mundane thoughts of mere existence.
The Black King lived, momentarily celebrating the withdraw of the opposing leadership, then charging into alabaster ranks to fell their great, leaderless monsters. The lucky among his own monsters would mostly die in the charge – a glorious end, in the final battle, rather than be forever abandoned on a lonely ember of Skaia. Then, the obsidian ranks having won, the Black King would proceed to the Great Transportalizer, waiting for his queen.
The Black Queen lived, however odd she was. Finally quenching Skaia, she would loose her world to the darkness – She herself might become a greater horrorterror, in fact, according to how some interpreted the texts, with her King. Immortal. Unknowable.
Her Imperious Condescension wasn’t going to be any part of that. She tended to like time as a concept – and as long-lived as she was, there were other ways for her to finally achieve immortality.
The Battleship Condescension was well prepared for this day – Outfitted with banks of alchemiters sitting ready with as much grist as they could hold in wait, It’s halls filled with the essential denizens of Derse, and the planet’s cloning equipment rent from it’s laboratories and jammed within the cargo bay. A bit of gold was left behind, unstripped, but that couldn’t be helped. A number of the skilled, affluent carapaces had been left to wander the streets – they meant nothing to their Queen but a maddening waste of resources, and now she could just… leave.
For the first time, the dark skies filled these pawns with terror. On the very day of their victory… why had they been abandoned?
There was nothing more on, or in, Derse that mattered to their former Queen. Prospit was a different story.
~
“There she blows,” Dirk looked up towards the vibrant red of the Battleship, almost as bright as the remaining light of Skaia now, it’s windows burning with light, hanging just above where Prospit’s chained moon would swing by.
Roxy visibly stiffened as she sat beside Dirk – but then she was back to herself just as quickly, “she… told me to get janie,” she breathed for a moment, gathering her confidence, “were doing this then?”
Dirk nodded.
~
The interior of Prospit itself had always been dark – now there was also a smell of smoke, the rattling and clanking of hanging chains brushing against one another, the world shaking as time itself was trying to decide if it was really that welcome anymore. These were the first impressions that registered with The Condesce after the momentary brightness of the Green Sun.
She took a moment to stand up straight, having folded herself in half to make sure Roxy could ferry her without issue, “Roxy, you gettin s)(ella good with your zappin peeps around,” there was no reason to rush, she thought to herself, as long as things got done.
“heh.. thanks. i mean, obvs ive been practicing.”
“You’ve had a few busy weeks, I know – but we’ve got this one more thing to do. Then we’re all due for a long vacay.”
“Does that mean you won’t be folding her in half anymore?” Jane had been waiting for the two – deposited on one of two large slabs that seemed to float in the middle of the darkness.
The Condesce tried not to wince at the lack or respect in Jane’s voice – it was unbecoming a heiress, “No more frequently than I’ll be bass-)(attin. Why, ya wanna join us?”
“I wouldn’t mind at least seeing one of these secret sessions. But that can wait, obviously,” Jane hesitated, “Just why did we have to wait to do this? Why not earlier?” Jane’s arms were crossed, her nails starting to dig into her sleeves. As dark as the space was, it only seemed to be getting darker. Her eyes were starting to tear up from the smoke.
“Oh, there needed to be a Black Queen to win. And a Black Queen can’t be a God. God-tier. I mean. But now, now I can just be little ol’ me,” The Condesce let herself sound relieved, “Finally. Besides, it’s equality, ain’t it? I can’t expect you four to fly around doing all the work of restoring your world forever, can I? I mean… I’m just want to be ready for my new role. I guess.”
“Well – who will be doing the honors? I’m guessing I’m emergency resuscitation.”
“I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Might take a few stabs anyway,” the troll focused on her captchalogue for a moment, and her double-trident appeared in her hand, “This old bitc)( still has some pride, ye know? So…” The Condesce’s own eyes were tearing up with the smoke, so she took a second to kneel down and look at the slab. “… s)(ouldn’t there be a…” her eyes widened.
The second-to-last last thought she had was that she was being betrayed, once she deciphered the “Hope” symbol on the slab.
The last thought to cross her mind was that the lightning arcing toward her was a color she absolutely loathed.
Dirk had silently darted into place a mere second before, and now held something of the Condesce in his grasp. A cold imitation of lighting continued to arc from his hands – anchoring that thing in the air, filling all their ears with the sound of shearing icebergs. He was afraid to put a name to it – but it wasn’t her body. That flopped, lifelessly, on top of the 2x3dent and the pale yellow slab.
“Flip!” Dirk shouted, and Roxy and Jane pushed the Sacrificial Slab that Jane had been standing on around on it’s axis. On it lay – a troll. A young body of tyrian blood. Perhaps even still a toddler, by human standards.
“Ready!” Roxy shouted. Dirk shifted the suspended … animus, he decided… over, just a little bit, and attempt to push it into the unmoving body. “Jane. Not going. Help.” He was pouring sweat, the obscuring smoke not helping him breathe in the least.
Life-y things happened. And it connected. The young troll’s vascular bladder began to beat, first weakly, when with increasing power.
Dirk managed a few long breaths, as the echos were finally allowed to die down, “Get the body out of here, Rox. We’ll manage the rest.”
~
The Green Sun was unchanged.
The carefully spaced orbits of White Carapaces, in something like sleep, were unchanged.
Roxy gave the husk of a body a good, long look. It, too, didn’t quite seem dead. She took a long moment to study it, to try and see it for what it actually was.
To try and decide what it actually was.
Leaving it here… didn’t seem right. There had to still be things she could learn from it. For science. And besides, of all bodies – everything in her said not to turn her back on this one.
She would captchalogue it. Study it when the time was right. Who knows, with all the cloning equipment, maybe the earth would have some room for more than one troll.
No more time to waste. There were abandoned black carapaces to rescue.
___
We aren’t going to pop back to Earth just yet, there’s one more thing on the Condesce’s the to-do list.
Illustration by Jesseth.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637934
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