Ep. 58- A Crown of Seconds

ext. valley of the bones morning flashback

The Valley of the Bones, desolate even in memory- red rocks, dust, bones, old rusted implements of battle. Upon the cliffs the Young Queen in battle array with several soldiers of Swords, including the Young Page of Swords. They all crouch about the rocks of the cliff’s edge. The Young Page hands the Young Queen a spyglass, which she extends and peers through, scouring the horizon. Her scope zeroes in on a distant cloud of dusty. She adjusts the scope, zooming further in- a bit more detail- decorated horses, knightly riders and banners bearing the crest of a golden sun. At the head of the column is a lone rider upon a white horse, flaring light that sears the spyglass image with a sudden flare- the lone rider is the Sun- his banner that of white- one of treaty.

ext. tournament field night flashback

This is the tournament yard just after the conclusion of the Tourney of the Successor. The Young Queen is sitting on the back of a wagon drinking water from a canteen. She pours some out into her hand and splashes it on her ruddy face. She takes a nearby wage and begins to wipe the water, perspiration and dirt from her face- her skin begins to glisten a soft, warm yellow- as though a lamp were cast on it. She opens her eyes and is surprised to behold the Sun standing before her. His countenance betrays nothing but a broad benevolence, his thin, childlike smile and dead eyes projecting an unchanging visage as they gaze at her. The Young Queen quickly averts her own- the Sun is difficult to look at, especially this close. When the Sun speaks it is with a soft, placid tone that feels threatening precisely because of its marked lack of threat.

THE SUN
Today is a blessed day for you, child of Swords.

The Young Queen does not answer- her dislike and discomfort around this Major Arcana is that of naked emotion. After a moment, the Sun’s countenance dims a bit.

THE SUN
Please forgive my brilliance. I wished to tell you- your performance today- exhilarating. I wonder if your strength here is appreciated.

YOUNG QUEEN
My queen knows my worth, it is enough.

THE SUN
Admirable. Honorable. Steadfast. You make a strong knight. I would wonder about a Queen.

YOUNG QUEEN
(stiffening at this)
It will be many years, Cards willing, before we find out.

THE SUN
Oh? Do you portent? Come closer child. I would grant you a secret-

The Young Queen cannot help herself- she leans forward, her face within inches of where the Sun’s once blistering face now sets in a dim twilight. A moment, and then the Sun’s face flares up again- the Queen’s own face reddens, beads of sweat forming on it- yet she cannot look away or pull back. The Sun’s voice this time hisses like the popping of rocks in a lava flow.

THE SUN
The next time you hold that crowd, you will drop it. It will not be a matter of years or months, or even weeks or days. Not hours or minutes. It will be seconds, child of Swords. You will hold that crown for a precious few seconds and then never again.

The Queen inhales sharply but finds no air in within the orbit of the Sun’s scorching presence. Her hands go to her throat as she begins to gag, eyes widening. And then suddenly-

OLD QUEEN
Successor.

The weathered hand of the Old Queen on the Young Queen’s shoulder. Suddenly, the Young Queen jolts back to the moment. The Sun is nowhere to be found. She looks around for a moment as she chokes down air.

YOUNG QUEEN
The Sun…?

OLD QUEEN
Is not here. He left some time ago- along with the knight you defeated. We were not equipped to handle his…injuries.

YOUNG QUEEN
(unsettled)
It’s my fault. I should have held back.

OLD QUEEN
Had you held back, you might not be standing here.

YOUNG QUEEN
It was just a sparring tournament.

OLD QUEEN
No one just spars with you. You know that- we’ve all known it. When people see your strength they don’t settle for the pretense of sparring. They aim to kill. You might not see it in the moment- but from where I sit- it is clear as day- every person you’ve crossed swords has done so with the intent to end your life. That you have not died- or at least been mortally wounded in some kind of “training accident” is a testament to your strength.

YOUNG QUEEN
…I think I’ve always known this, deep down. But I always imagined if I said so, you’d just tell me I was imagining things.

OLD QUEEN
Two hours ago I would have. But you’re going to be Queen someday- best I am honest with you about what you are actually up against.

YOUNG QUEEN
Do you really believe I can be Queen?

OLD QUEEN
You won the tourney- you are the Successor.

YOUNG QUEEN
But will people follow me? The way they follow you?

OLD QUEEN
Not the same way they follow me- no. But my age was different from the one that lies before you. You must lead differently by default. As long as this crow is on my head I will lead the only way I know how- but when your time comes- it will be up to you to do the same- though I hope to advise you for a time, at least.

YOUNG QUEEN
Do you think I’ll reign long?

The question catches the Old Queen off guard. She goes quiet for a moment, but does not question the cause of this question. She simply replies the way she always does- honestly, without concern for feeling but not thoughtlessly- the Old Queen is a straight shooter to a fault.

OLD QUEEN
Strength rarely equates longevity. There are precious few gladiator kings, conqueror gods and fighting nobles. They make for interesting stories but short-lived reigns. But I believe it would be a mistake to lump yourself in with them. While it is true you do not have a head for diplomacy, statesmanship or spycraft, I also believe it would be a mistake to assume your best ruling qualities are yet known.

There is a silence at this. The blackout, the strange presence which overtook the Young Queen during the tourney, her fell appearance and strange Arcane powers- all remain unspoken, politely so.

YOUNG QUEEN
My sword, my training- I’ll grant even my powers- have got me this far. It’s all I know. What I know of ruling, I know from watching you. And I hope to learn more. I’d rather emulate you than dive further into what I am- what seems to set others against me so readily.

OLD QUEEN
Your desire to imitate flatters me- but a day will come when you will have to set your own path as Queen- and you must rely on what- you- are. And not what you think I am.

YOUNG QUEEN
I don’t know what I am. Or what I want to become. I just want to do right by you- and the House.

OLD QUEEN
(sighs)
Then that will have to suffice- until you’re ready for more.

YOUNG QUEEN
Do you worry?

OLD QUEEN
Worry?

YOUNG QUEEN
That you don’t know…what I am. Or where I go when I fight.

OLD QUEEN
No.

YOUNG QUEEN
Truly?

The Old Queen laughs and clasps the shoulders of her young ward, smiling.

OLD QUEEN
A queen never lies- except to herself.

YOUNG QUEEN
(very seriously)
You really don’t worry about what I am- or what I may become?

OLD QUEEN
You are a dedicated student, a talented Knight, a loyal servant and an idealistic Successor, in your own way. That is enough. For whatever else there may be- I’ll judge it when it presents itself.

The Young Queen in a surprising move of intimacy hugs the Old Queen close. A small tear is at her eye.

YOUNG QUEEN
I’d rather just stay what I am. For now. I don’t want the rest. I don’t need it.

The Old Queen smiles sadly at this.

OLD QUEEN
No one is rushing you, child. Whatever else is hiding in your depths- it can wait. We can wait- together.