WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Her words rang surreal as they stood, contemplating the Nerinian shoreline. I give it to you Scorch, you believed in me, you saw the same future same as I did. And it’s here; because of you it is here. I live in the past Scorch, my place is there, I would only ruin what we’ve started. My work, it is finished, I’ve done what I promised. Find someone like us, someone to keep this. A smile spread her lips, too peaceful and genuine, an expression that Scorch hadn't glimpsed since their very first reunion just after her impromptu coronation. It would seem that impromptu coronations have become something of a tradition for the remnant of the 'Zons; but as her friend leaned into her embrace and shared a final look of unspoken significance with her, Scorch could find only love and hope for Hestia's journey into the oblivion.

You don't have to watch, Scorch. It's voice sent a chill down her spine, but steeled herself. The demon was hers to watch after now; she needed to set her differences aside. I know. She offered no more of an explanation to the telepathic thing as she watched with tear-wet eyes as her friend was taken by the flames, much as she had been decades ago. Except that, even as the waves lapped at her hooves, Hestia stepped not into the life-giving waters; unlike Scorch, she allowed the darkness to come, its harbinger the crackle of the flames. Her stomach turned; her tears fell; and in the end, her friend was no more.

Rest well, Sister.

--

It broke the silence of their mourning far sooner than she'd have hoped; and though she hadn't moved an inch since Hestia's passing, her muscles ache with a bone-tiredness that she'd forgotten comes with the duty of ruling a kingdom. Heavily, she opened her molten red-yellow eyes, looking down to the demon as his words buffered in her grief-stricken brain. She's with me now. Safe. Happy. Despite the emotionless tone, the words it chose to describe its reunion with Hestia betrayed their intimate relationship; and despite the alienness of it all, Scorch found herself nodding and settling into the groove of this new, emptier land. Loss was an experience she knew profoundly - but it did not make it any easier to deal with as each grave dug deeper into the profoundness of her understanding.

Speaking of which... It's voice came again, simply, but with many implications.
Help me understand.

Scorch sighed, answering back wordlessly. The land we stand on was once generous with its spirit, lending itself to residents with the person-ability that perhaps surpasses even your own abilities. Her eyes were dull as she spoke in her mind, but a little twitch of the demon's scarred nostril made even the rat smile in this dim hour. So it could be teased. Beqanna scorned us for taking advantage of her, however, and now we tread through what has essentially become a skeleton. The foundation of our home is here - but the guts, the blood, the heart of what makes it home are gone. I don't know if you can understand, but - I hope I helped.

The creature nodded slowly, unsure of this worldly gesture, but learning regardless. It wanted to help - and considering that it could easily go and help the evil kingdoms, the kingdoms it was truly aligned with, well, she wouldn't turn it away. Feeling sentimental, she reached across the distance between them, and carefully pressed a breath to the hollow where Oblivion's eye ought to have been. She wanted to say something - but she didn't know what.

--

Her call rang out across Nerine, summoning them to the clearing before the oak tree where she'd first rejoined the Amazons - no, came it's voice. The Leviathons now. The demon didn't need to say it, but it wouldn't let what progress Hestia had made be erased because of Scorch's foolhardy dedication to the ways of old.

That's why she couldn't stay in this position forever - indeed, not even for very long.

They trickled to her slowly, as women often do - but upon seeing Scorch's sullen gaze, as well as the resident demon by her side instead of by Hestia's, their ambivalence faded, replaced in turn by an anxious curiosity. Though she nodded to some, no words were exchanged until as many as she could hope to count on arrived; still, she mourned the death of her would-be soul mate.

Just as she inhaled to begin, another presence wafted to the side unoccupied by Oblivion. Blinking, the mutilated mare found herself smiling despite it all into the eyes of her husband, publicly leaning into him for support for all to see. She was no longer the Khaleesi of the Amazons; for this brief period, she was Queen of the Leviathans; and this Queen gave no fucking shits about what you thought of her goddamn marriage.

Ahem.

"Sisters," She began, her voice raised despite its hoarseness. "Leviathans," She began again, smiling grimly; Oblivion's forked tail stopped prodding her at the correction. "Queen Hestia has passed from this world onto the next, at least for the time being. As my daughter once used to say, death is truly no separation." Though not everyone could know, most of the faces gathered might smile ruefully upon remember Scorch's own demise a lifetime ago. As an immortal, she felt intimately that she would see Hestia again - and if not that, she knew that as soon as Hestia was ready, they would have seance-conversations more than they'd ever had real alive ones.

Inhale; exhale. "It was her dying wish that I assume the Nerinian throne until such time that a suitable heir can, in turn, replace me." Her eyes scanned across the crowd, finding faces of varying ranges of familiarity amidst it. "And I have accepted this duty. For those of you who do not know, I lead the Amazons of Old, not many generations before the Reckoning; Nerine is my homeland now, as she who remembers that Jungle kingdom, and it will be an eternity that I spend in service to her. Right now, that service is as leader."

"However, I think we can all agree that keeping me in this position will only drag us into the past, further rooting us in a spot that has become vastly outdated and overgrown with unplucked weeds. " Poetic, Oblivion stated dryly - except that everything he said was dry. Scorch flicked an ear at the nuisance but did not stutter. "This is why I have chosen Wishbone as heir to the Nerinian throne." A small hush of confused chatter broke out among her people (strange, that she should have her own people again all these decades later), and she allowed it to go on for some time before interrupting; she may not be ruler for long, but she knew that they respected her all the same.

"Although some might feel themselves worthwhile candidates for the position of heir, I have had time to think on it. As evil rises in Beqanna, we must create a united front to oppose it. Connected with Ischia as we are, we are the strongest force that the darkness shall have to reckon with - but I have been around for many years, and there can never be enough unifying and growing of strength. By placing Wishbone atop the throne, Tephra shall become to us nearly as we are to Ischia."

"We will not be Tephra's sub kingdom." This, she said loudly, forcefully, and without any hesitation; the steel of her spine reflected in the glint of her hard, glaring eyes. "Wishbone came of her own volition as a child of willingness to learn, not as a child of Tephra. Since then she has been training to embody the Leviathan ideology: we did; we can; we will." She paused, allowing the weight of her words to sink into each of their skins. "And we will, my Sisters; yes, we will."

"Until she is determined to be ready for the throne, I will continue as Queen of the Leviathans. I know that this whole thing is shocking, and that some of you will be angry, and opposed to that which has been decided. But know that I have thought, long and hard. You are welcome to voice your opinions - but do not let grief or envy or greed colour your tongues."

"And lastly, although it isn't what you want to hear, we will have to alert the other kingdoms of the change. I will need volunteers to do this. I will travel alone to meet with Brennen; and I will take Porcia with me to tell Warrick." Her eyes traveled to her new friend, not having forgotten the promise she'd made to her before everything went to shit. "Otherwise, anyone is welcome to travel anywhere - except Sylva. Unless there are warriors willing to place themselves in that land, I see no reason to keep our enemies informed of our internal affairs."

With that, she stepped back, allowing them room to come forward and speak. A dull ache hammered away in her head, and she couldn't help but groan internally at herself for begging so stupidly to return to the throne. She was old, and tired, and frankly, more horny than she was interested in politics. Excuse me? Grinning at Oblivion, and for once not minding his mind-reading, Scorch once again leaned into Hestoni, hoping against hope that she wouldn't have too much of a fire to put out with her people.

Her people.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle