The Secrets of Kings: Season 2, Episode 3

7:30 AM



Season 2: Episode 3


Quinnella: Princess of Frowena

July 7, 1390, 8:42 PM



A whole host of strange dreams afflicted the Princess’s mind but one scenario in particular seemed to keep repeating itself. Quinnella was running up a strange, twisting flight of stairs. She could not see the top, but somehow she knew that she wanted whatever was up there. That it was hers. That she MUST have it. Her ascent was met with a host of obstacles: missed steps, fallen trees, and a set of familiar hands that kept pushing her down. Nevertheless, she rose up each time, continuing to seek the apex.
Suddenly however, little Remedy appeared in the middle of the steps. A blank little face, suddenly turned cold. A little body, growing large in front of her, a mighty chest, protruding, demanding to be seen. Remedy transformed into the shape of their mother as the figure continued to grow. The giant before her swept down her left hand, violently sweeping up her doll sized daughter. Quinnella could distinctly feel the hard metal of her mother’s wedding band putting immense pressure on her hip as the large fingers continued to squeeze her. She was being lifted high into the air, where she could look down and see the land and its glorious shapes, all miniaturized by her current position. Soon her mother’s arm was fully stretched above her over-sized frame, allowing Quinnella to see the top of the staircase. An ornamented crown and staff lay atop a red velvet pillow. Her mother’s arm bent backward, bringing Quinnella over the landing and close to the regal treasures at the top of the stairs. Quinnella wriggled until she freed her small arms from her mother’s grip, using them to reach out for her prize.
Just as the tip of her middle finger grazed the top of the crown, with a sudden jolt, and release, her mother threw her forward with great force. The staircase and its treasures quickly became a speck in the distance and the once stunning aerial landscape began to turn dark and foreboding, as it rushed up to meet her. She screamed with the anticipation of her body smashing into the earth.
Everything went black for a moment. The next thing she knew, she was awakening on the beach. Though the tide had receded, it was clear she had somehow washed up there. Her hair intertwined indelicately with the fine grains of sand and the drifting weeds of the sea. Quinnella pulled herself up, her wet garments clinging strange and heavy against her body. She struggled to get footing in the soft wet sand, so she wriggled her body to an incredibly large piece of driftwood. She used its protrusions to pull herself upright and maintain a steady walk up to the beach’s end, where the grass and the sand stood-off over territory.
She looked around but there appeared to be no one there but her. She made her way over to a small hill, just beyond the sand. Once she made her way to the top, she was met by a small path, and just up the path was a small stone structure. She trudged her way there as quickly as possibly. There was something not quite typical about this place and she was not quite sure she wanted to be there.
The small stone hut was surely smaller than half her chamber. She circled it cautiously, unsure if someone might be currently inhabiting the home. In the rear, a doorway draped with a large piece of leather, flapped ever so slightly from the beach breeze, allowing Quinnella to peek inside to an empty abode. She reached out and pulled the leather to the side, sliding through the small opening she made for herself there. Once both of her feet were in the hut, a fireplace in the corner burst to life with flames of blue and purple and a small circular table with two seats appeared in the middle of the room. One of the seats was occupied by a shadowy figure.
“Come in my child.” A shaky female voice invited.
Quinnella’s eyes scanned the figure with curiosity. A pair of knobby, frail hands protruded from under a number of layered cloths. An almost yellow pair of eyes pierced Quinnella. Her knees were shaking and the princess could not seem to make her body function in any meaningful way.
“You seek me here and now you do not come?” The old woman accused.
“Seek you?” Quinnella asked. “I did no such thing.”
“WHAT?” The figure roared? “Your blood is saturated with the Maiden’s Call! You had enough to cross the plane. Now I am here. What troubles you?”
“Maiden’s Call? What are you talking about?”
“Well… If you didn’t take it… Someone must have thought you were in trouble and needed me.” The woman replied. Her face went stoic for a few moments as she scanned Quinnella’s face. “You need not even tell me your woes, girl.”
“My woes…”
“You have learned something. You’re upset, confused, feeling betrayed. But you know in your core that this secret might need keeping.”
Quinnella’s fear turned to curiosity. “How do you know all this?” She asked, making her way to the seat across the table. “Tell me what to do!” She demanded.
The earth began to shake and the stone walls around them began to crumble to the ground. The sky swirled orange and purple. The wind picked up speed, whipping Quinnella’s hair to and fro.  “My child,” The old woman yelled over the howling winds. “The information you possess is dangerous. You want my advice. Bibi advises you keep your secret to yourself. Trust the eye and those who have always loved you. Think of the greater good.”
At the last word, the wind stilled, the fire went up in smoke, and the earth swallowed up the crumbled stone. The chairs and table were pulled down shortly after, complete with the form of the old lady who seemed at ease with becoming one with the earth. Quinnella was left on the grass, alone. She stood up and searched the nearly empty landscape before it opened up beneath her feet, causing her to fall and fall and fall...


* * * *

Quinnella’s eyes opened wide as she gasped for breath. Her body was drenched in sweat. Her head was pounding as it never had before. The carriage was almost entirely dark. It took her a moment to process the fact that the carriage did not feel as though it were moving. She rolled off of the small bench on which she had curled herself up to sleep. She called out to Ponce only to have him jump into the carriage and tackle her.
Everything was a bit foggy but, eventually, Quinnella was helped out of the cart and led to a large chair in front of a roaring fire. She could hear voices arguing behind her, but she was entranced by the chaotic flames in front of her. The deep yellows harkening back to Bibi’s eyes, which lit so brilliantly in her dreams. Or maybe she was still dreaming… She couldn’t be sure.
A small tap on her shoulder stole her attention. There was a large handsome man standing over her.
“Water?” He asked.
She smiled at him and took the glass, spilling a bit as a result of her incredibly weak grip and shaking hands. He reached down and helped her bring the cup to her lips. She sipped a bit and he pulled the cup away from her. He sat down on the edge of the seat across from her. He pulled off layers of tools and clothing until he was down to his bare chest. It was a soft orange from the glow of the flames. The princess traced her eyes across his naked, broad shoulders until she rested on the center of his neck.
She reached out toward him but was too far away to reach the necklace that sat there.
“You have the eye.” She exclaimed. “Trust the eye. Trust the eye. Trust the eye…” She continued to repeat. “Trust the eye. Trust the eye. Trust the eye....”

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