Kahlua

The game that existed between these two, the tightrope walk across the tenuous strands that connected them, was difficult for Kahlua. She was not used to such subtleties, the whispers between the lines containing words and meanings as of yet unknown to the paint. She could not dance across the river rocks with agility, could not keep herself from slipping and falling into the flowing river, to be pulled under by an unforgiving tide. She did not know how to pull the sails of her ship to aim this conversation where she wanted it to go... but Illynx...

Illynx was a master of her craft, of gilded tongues and hidden meanings. She danced in her paper gown around a bonfire that only aimed to burn, she jumped over the flames and through the fiery tendrils that reached out towards her, but always came out clean on the other side. There was no char to her dress, no burnt flesh or singed hairs. She wove a tale so tight that no rain could fall between the cracks where the different strands met. Indeed, if Kahlua had been interested in the act of secret diplomacy, Illynx would have been the grand master to learn from. Her idyllic schemes on immoral ideals were, if loathsome, masterfully crafted.

Kahlua almost felt drawn into Snow Queen's knowing smile. She was plain.

As for her riddles, Kahlua's simple brain was sent to ticking and clicking, grinding gears as she pondered. To count all the grains of sand would be impossib- Oooooh. Like a lightbulb, it clicked. Even Illynx did not hold delusions that she was capable of such a grand feat. Should Kahlua have thought the same of her own goal? Was attempting to bring to peace to all the same as trying to count sand? Where there some that simply could not be saved by her righteous goal? It was funny how these two queens, with goals as opposite as black and white, were really not so different at all.

Kahlua did not appreciate the irony.

“Remaining among yourselves sounds lonely,” the queen responded as Illynx turned back to the child. Kahlua did manage a small glance over to him as he played with her beloved little toy. She frowned softly, hoping he did not ruin it with his childish hooves, but then... The master crafter that had made it had told her to return when it broke. Perhaps she would just have to return sooner rather than later. Of course, the queen telling him to fix it because some fool child (his!) had broken it would not likely go over so well... If only she had known.

But perhaps remaining among themselves was not lonely to the Snow Queen. Perhaps that was why Illynx could enjoy Rikyn and Kahlua could only look at him with disdain. Illynx did not mind her imprisonment here in the mountains. Kahlua abhorred that she lived behind glass walls, despised that she should be forced to stay there when there was so much roaming to be done... She sighed. At least she had managed to escape, for a moment.

“Lena saved me. I was bitten by a wraith and became a monster myself. I owe her my life.” The caressing song that Lena had sang her that day still swirled through Kahlua's head quite often, reminding her both that she was a monster and that she had beautiful friends. But Kahlua was infinitely more interested in Illynx's other words, taking them perhaps to mean something that they did not. “You should spend more time with your gentle-hearted citizens, my...” she paused. My friend. The words were so quick to fall from her mouth, but were they really appropriate here? Could she really call Illynx friend? But then... on the scale of good meetings to bad, good was winning out. Perhaps...

“My friend.” She tried to the words, looking over Illynx, trying them out to see how they fell. Was this part of the game that she was supposed to be playing? Part of the lies and secrecy and twisted words that was so common for the Kings and Queens to spit back and forth? “You might learn something from them.” Still the hopeful optimist, the queen hoped she was not offending the GildedBlade, giving her reason for anything other than the niceties that had thus far been displayed.

“I'm afraid I've been gone too long, though,” she said then, not wishing to overstay her welcome and realizing that the sun had passed rather far since this conversation had begun. “Thank you for your wisdom.” She stopped, bowing her head respectfully, hesitating for any last words that the golden queen might offer her, and taking hesitant steps towards the child until her scorpion slowly returned to her and crawled up her nose to her poll.

As she trotted away, she let her mind pore over what she had learned. There was much to consider.

here comes the sun