《Legatia: The Queen of the West》 A Royal Walk The Queen of the West, Legatia, was walking in the gardens of the royal palace of the Tot family during her evening stroll. As she passed by the castle walls, covered with ivy and moss at their base, the queen raised her head, observing the pink clouds bathed in the cold golden glow of the morning sun. She immersed herself in a sea of sensations: the refreshing breeze on her face, the damp grass moistening the hem of her dress and her shoes, the sound of palm trees swaying in the wind accompanied by the singing of birds. Despite this symphony of natural perfection, the queen''s face expressed immense apathy. "How strange," the queen said to herself, for she could recognize that the scene nature presented to her was undoubtedly beautiful, and many in her court, especially her mother, proclaimed it as the best view the Western Kingdom could offer. With extensive and lush flora tended by the best gardeners, the courtyard surrounding the castle occupied four hectares of fertile land fit only to be owned by kings. "And yet, I feel nothing," she lamented. She found herself in deep meditation on the events of recent days and her emotional response to everything that had happened. "Where was the confidence with which I addressed my subjects? Where was the flame of anger and power with which I kept the irrational demands of the councilors and nobles in check? Where was the coldness with which I directed the general of my army to stop questioning me? Where were my emotions hiding?" She criticized herself in this sea of questioning. "Maybe I''m just tired," she answered herself. Recalling all those events, she couldn''t help but notice the lack of desire mixed with a hint of irritation. But the truth that crawled from the deepest part of her mind was that all of that... "Is meaningless to me," declared the queen, her voice choked with guilt and shame at the ease with which she had made such a statement. The implications of those ideas, those feelings, unleashed a chain of doubts and fears in Legatia''s mind. "Were the emotions I presented to my subjects day after day real?" She asked herself with growing guilt. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. At the time, it was real to her, or at least that''s what she wanted to believe. When she gave a speech to the masses, or when she had to manage the servants, or when she had to convince the council members, or deal with her army general. All those acts provided her with strong emotions and desires, to lead properly, to protect her people by offering them a prosperous and safe kingdom. But when the moments where those emotions were required ended, "I don''t care anymore," she murmured in astonishment. But then, what were her goals and desires if they were in a constant state of change? "Who am I really?" She pondered. The implications of her previous reflections revealed a terrible truth to her, one whose implications she did not wish to even think about. "You are a stone," the words left her lips, expelled from her brain in a ruthless attempt by her soul to make that thought real. "It''s not true! It can''t be true!" howled Legatia, her body trembling with desperation. "But it is the truth," said her other voice. "Just as stones cannot acquire shape until the sculptor begins his work, you cannot express desires and emotions until the world grants them to you." "And since the world doesn¡¯t provide you with nothing but an abyss of feelings to react to and not a situation to act upon, there is no architect to shape you according to the moment, you are just a blank stone, indistinguishable from others," explained the queen in a third voice. Suddenly Legatia stopped her walk, for an idea, a revelation as impactful as if she had been struck by the most skilled archer in the county, hit her. "I am a stone! That''s it! That''s what I am! That is my desire!" Legatia shouted, jumping and screaming with great emotion. "So you finally realized," said the queen in a fourth voice. "That a stone not adorned by the dominating skills of the sculptor cannot be more than what it already is, that is, itself. "Nothing! I am nothing! My desire is nothingness itself!" Legatia''s face, once expressionless, now lit up with the brightest of smiles, and she began to laugh heartily, not for the world, that vague and demanding sculptor, but for something that arose from herself. With such overwhelming joy flooding her mind, Legatia couldn''t help but move her body according to those emotions, extending her arms and spinning on her own axis, filling her lungs with that fresh and pure air, as if it were the first time she felt it, only to release all the air in a powerful scream, proclaiming her desire to the world. "I am nothing!" With that burst of emotion, the queen found herself exhausted and trying to catch her breath, she threw herself onto the soft, damp grass to enjoy the freedom and satisfaction that only the deepest revelations can offer. "My lady, your presence is required in the throne room for an urgent meeting," exclaimed one of her guards, whose presence cast a dark shadow over the queen''s light. And once again, the world imposed upon her the form it desired to give her, but this time the stone that formed the material of the statue began to show cracks. The Birth of Legatia Hundreds of hooded figures gathered in the forest on the outskirts of the kingdom of Alvus. They all seemed very busy, preparing blades, brushes, and containers. "Do you think we¡¯ll have enough followers for the ritual?" one of the hooded figures asked another while he busied himself cutting his veins to pour the blood into a bowl. "The leaders haven¡¯t expressed concern about it, so I have no reason to doubt," replied the other, having already emptied the veins of his arm. He proceeded to bandage it after placing the bowl on the primordial stone altar. "You¡¯re right. How foolish of me. My job is not to think, after all." "Exactly! Our duty is to follow orders and, hopefully, enjoy the benefits of a bloody ritual. Who knows? Maybe today we¡¯ll be allowed to consume our first soul." "How exciting! I can¡¯t wait," exclaimed the cultist, grabbing the knife and cutting his veins to collect his blood. "They say this time¡¯s sacrifice is more promising." "Indeed. You can never go wrong with sacrificing a pure and virgin maiden," said the cultist with a laugh. Near these strange figures, a twelve-year-old girl nervously rubbed her hands. She could barely hear what the cultists were murmuring, but their laughter made her startle. Grumbling moodily, she walked away. "How can I concentrate on the initiation rite if no one stops making noise?" she complained. "Legatia, what¡¯s happening?" exclaimed a woman dressed in a loose violet robe, her face partially covered by her blonde hair cascading like a golden waterfall. Her gentle blue eyes shone with a disturbing brightness due to the severe look she directed at the girl. "Mom, when will the ceremony be ready?" "Soon, dear, soon," her mother replied, stroking her daughter¡¯s head. "Don¡¯t worry about the organizational details; that¡¯s our job, okay?" "Yes, mom, but¡­" Before she could finish her sentence, her mother gave her a piercing look with her wide-open blue eyes, which made Legatia immediately fall silent and walk away. "Are you sure everything will go well?" asked a hooded man who seemed to have manifested behind her. "It¡¯s not a matter of whether I¡¯m sure or not, dear, but that this is our only option," the mother said with a worried tone. "We have to prepare the next generation of kings to be stronger than us, and the kings and queens that will come after them, or else the four kingdoms will be destroyed." "I understand. Between the Guild¡¯s actions and Ryl, the outlook is not very encouraging," the man sighed. "Let¡¯s move on; let¡¯s put Legatia in position." The mother nodded, and they both led Legatia to the stone altar in the center of the clearing. They laid her on the cold stone and chained her hands and feet. "Is this part of the ritual, mommy?" Legatia asked with a trembling voice. "Yes, dear, now stay still while we prepare everything," her mother ordered, and with a simple motion of her hand the cultists brought the bowls full of blood, placing them around her and the altar. "Attention, everyone! We have chosen you for a very specific reason: you are the strongest and fittest in the kingdom," exclaimed the Mother of Legatia. "You must understand that the kingdom of Alvus is us, and we are the kingdom. If it falls, we all fall. Therefore, each of us must do everything in our power to prevent it," continued Legatia¡¯s father. "We ask you to become the gateway that will lead us to our new tomorrow!" The cultists listened intently, applauding their leaders¡¯ words, cheering with great excitement. When the father pronounced his last words, the blood from the bowls began to rise, winding around the mother¡¯s body, dividing into finer threads that headed towards the cultists like cobras attacking their prey. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. With no time to react, they could only scream, releasing all the terror they felt as the threads of what had been their blood penetrated their paralyzed bodies, searching for something essential and necessary for their existence. When the threads reached their brains, long crimson chains began to emerge from within their bodies, and as the chains emerged they were cut by the blood threads. Immediately after that, the cultists¡¯ bodies fell to the ground, their eyes blank, their bodies withering to the point of looking like skeletons with ashen skin, while ethereal bluish orbs emerged from the depths of their being. Seeing that scene unfold before her helpless eyes, Legatia could do nothing but scream and cry inconsolably, begging her parents to stop. Her mother immediately attached her blood threads to the crimson chains that emerged from the blue orbs, directing them straight into her daughter''s body, forcibly inserting them into her being despite the child''s desperate cries and sobs for the nightmare to end. As the ritual progressed and more souls entered Legatia''s body, a spectral glow began to emanate from her, growing ever more intense. It was as if an immense bluish flame was consuming her, enveloping her in a supernatural aura that shone in the darkness of the forest. "It¡¯s working! Her power is increasing to levels beyond those of a mere human!" her mother exclaimed ecstatically. "Our kingdom¡¯s safety is guaranteed in this new era of darkness!" her father rejoiced. However, the parents'' cheers were drowned out by Legatia''s screams of desperation as she cursed their names with all her fury. The mother didn¡¯t seem very concerned until the enchanted chains they had placed on her began to show damage from the amount of energy Legatia''s body was releasing. Could you shut up already? You''re so melodramatic; we all have to make sacrifices to move the kingdom forward, dear," the mother shouted, then turned to her husband. "The power is too much for the chains! Use your magic chains to restrain her, or we¡¯ll both die!". Legatia¡¯s father raised his arms, and eight blue crystal chains emerged from them, binding Legatia''s limbs and torso. This worked until the last soul was absorbed into Legatia¡¯s body, causing the blue fire surrounding her to intensify to the point of consuming everything around it in a massive explosion. White was all they could see until their eyes adjusted to the light. They had passed the initial shock, and both confirmed that their bodies were intact and unharmed. In that void, they found their daughter, too, who was in shock, her eyes fixed on what could be considered "up." Following her gaze, they were surprised to glimpse a bulbous creature ominously floating above them. Its body seemed to be composed of countless white ethereal-liquid spheres, each containing a tiny amber core. Enormous crimson tentacles emerged from its bulbous body, acting as its arms. "We did it, dear!" the queen shouted, her voice echoing in the white void. "We made the god of souls manifest!" The king was stunned by the disbelief he felt at that moment. "Finally, our kingdom is saved," the king replied through sobs. "Please, our lord, grant our beloved daughter your blessing!" "No, please. It was their fault; I had nothing to do with this. It was my parents who forced me to consume those souls; I didn''t want to. I beg you, god, do not bestow your curse upon me!" "Shut up, idiot, don''t you understand that this is for the good..." Before she could finish the sentence, the queen began to feel an incredible force, and in an instant, she was crushed by it, leaving only a bloody puddle where she had stood. The king, seeing his beloved die before him in mere seconds, screamed and ran away with great despair. Legatia couldn¡¯t move. That presence had such an immeasurably vast power that it imprisoned her with its mere existence. But even so, she could hear her father''s screams of terror as he fled in panic until suddenly, she heard them no more. Instead, the sound of flesh being crushed and liquid falling to the floor was the only things she heard. The last thing Legatia saw before the creature aimed its tentacles at her were two ethereal blue spheres being caught by two tentacles. Feeling it was impossible to escape, she simply closed her eyes, thus accepting her fate. In that instant a strange sensation manifested within her: the echo of hundreds of emotions and memories, threatening to erase her identity, merging it into an immense psychic sea. Her memories, her emotions prior to everything, were being absorbed by the homogenizing sea of souls within her. "I don¡¯t want this anymore, please, I don¡¯t want to die." She pleaded to the void, and the void responded with silence. Understanding the excess of meaning in that non-response, she concentrated on all that remained that made her who she was. She had lost her memories, her physiological and biological desires. What else could there be for her? And she realized at that moment what fundamentally made her who she was: a desire that could not be erased, and it was the desire for desires. But above all, the way she wished to achieve that fundamental human desire. Armed with these two truths, she clung to them as if they were a raft protecting her from sinking into the sea of alienation. There she tried to persist in her being, despite the current that so threatened to swallow her. Everything went black and only silence remained, until her eyes opened again. It was a lazy sunny afternoon in the kingdom of Alvus. Birds sang and butterflies fluttered over the flowers and green grass. The laughter of children playing could be heard across the meadows, while a flayed hand emerged from the pile of mummified cultist corpses. A creature emerged from the corpses, skinless, with its veiny, pulsating flesh exposed to the elements. It had three arms on each side and three faces, one on each side of its head and splattered across its body. The strange creature contemplated its fleshy hands and covered one of its faces with the other two, crying in the meadow filled with laughter and bird songs.