Crown of Thorns

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Lovers' Bedroom, Day 104 A.F

I was aware of only one thing as I finally regained consciousness: agony.

I could scarcely tell where the true pain emminated. My head seemed to be swirling, my stomach clenching with nausea. Burning agony forced my eyes open, but with a yelp I clenched them shut again. I saw nothing but red glistening on the table before me. The sight was enough to force ragged gags through my anguished sobs. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, trembling violently.

"Relax, Empress." The voice seemed acres away. I could hear little but my own grunts and gasps. "It isn't as though we killed you."

No. They hadn't killed me. If they had, I'd not be shaking, cheek resting against a table soaked with my own blood. Still, that axe hadn't bitten into my neck. While pain racked the majority of my body, the most acute pain burned  my hands. What had they done? Stealing myself, I forced my eyes open again.

Through wavy, unfocused eyes I stared at what was left of my hands. I didn't know how long I'd been unconscious, or how many slices Melville had made, but it was clearly at least two. It took all my will to keep from screaming when I noticed ten thin bits of flesh scattered across the table, resting in the pool of blood. The sharp tips of my claws gleamed, dispatched from my hands. I nearly vomited. Melville had cut off my fingers.

I clutched my stubby hands to my chest, unable to restrain my sobs. I'd never be able to hold something again. To make matters worse, without my claws, I was utterly defenseless.

"Really pathetic, Empress," Myra sneered, patting me harshly on the back. "We've read about you slicing off your own leg to escape a trap. You didn't even shed a tear."

Somehow, I fixated on her alto voice, picking it out through my ragged breathing and the ringing in my years. I found something even stronger than my pain. My rage. These revolting monsters had caused Cyprian to be separated from his family.  They had mortals worshipping them as gods, bringing them human sacrifices. They kept animals caged in their menagerie.  They repeatedly murdered our wolves. They tormented Tybira, nearly drowned Cyprian, and abused Enki. They kept us in utter darkness, nearly starved. They cut off my fingers. My sobs died away.

I raised my gaze to the Lovers, searing into them with all my hatred. "Get it through your twisted minds- I have never, nor will I ever, be anything like those past Empresses you've read about."

Melville tilted his head, grinning massively. "Nothing like them at all?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, dear," Myra crooned. She strutted towards a pink vanity station, complete with a large chair and even larger mounted mirror. The woman retrieved a ruby encrusted hand held looking glass and returned to her brother's side. She nearly hit me in the nose, brandishing her mirror centimeters from my face.

No. That's not... how could it... Staring back at me was a hauntingly familiar woman. Glowing green glyphs swirled along my arms, shining through the numerous blood smears. My hair had become a vibrant red, leafs strewn through the untidy locks. My now grass colored eyes widened. I frowned. So did the witch in the mirror. Lady Lotus? No... Despite the similarities between the reflection in the glass, the image I was transfixed with had a birthmark on the left side of her chin. The slight change in pigment wouldn't have been noticeable to most, but I instantly saw it. I'd worn that mark my entire life. I wasn't seeing a past Empress...

My eyes flickered to the crest of my head. Poking through the mane of leafs and red hair, a brown vine emerged, snaking slowly along my forehead as if attempting to incircle my head. Though the thorns  that populated the vine appeared as sharp as my claws, somehow, I wasn't scratched.