The Nightmaric Saga
Regicide

Prologue

My Beloved Kingdom

Present — Anastasia

I watch my beloved kingdom burn.

The flames dance below the skyline as smoke blots out what was once a pristine, starry sky. My hand rests on the window as I stare at my reflection in the glass.

A tear slips from my eye and falls to the marble tile. I watch it as it lands with a soft plop. Like raindrops, more follow. Soon, there is a wall of puddles of my tears on the floor.

I only have myself to blame for what is happening to my beloved Siyama.

It started when the violet-eyed woman strolled onto my court.

I cannot stop thinking about how she acted like she owned the place, and everyone else was just a guest. At the time, I thought I was only humoring her. I told myself she was just arrogant and egotistical.

Even her attire made her look like a fool. A brown denim jacket, a bright red dress, and an ice cream cone in her hand. I could not take her seriously.

In hindsight, I was the fool.

"Evening, Your Highness and higher court of Siyama!" she yelled, curtsy and all.

I could tell she was mocking royal protocol. Or maybe she truly thought it was beneath her station and wanted to rub that fact in our faces. At the time, I could not tell which.

"And evening to…" I began. I did not yet know who this despicable woman was, or even her name.

Now, it is all I can hear as I stare at my burning kingdom.

"Persephone," she said. She bowed, took a lick of her ice cream, and looked straight at me with a cruel smile. "The pleasure is all mine to be your honored guest here today!"

She rose, twirled once, and smiled at the crowd on either side of her.

Persephone knew exactly how to play to a room. I caught a few members of my council smiling, then coughing to hide their laughter.

If only I had seen the signs then.

Perhaps all of this could have been prevented. At least mitigated.

"What brings you before my throne?" It was a legitimate question at the time. I knew little about the war engulfing the galaxy, only that it was happening and growing fast. Perhaps I was naive to believe it would never spill onto Siyama.

After all, why would anyone care about a world as regal as Siyama?

"I come with a proposition." Persephone twirled again, the hem of her dress sweeping with the motion. "Sever ties with the decrepit Galactic Alliance, and join me."

She stopped mid-turn and took another lick of her ice cream, as if she had not just spoken treason in my hall.

The room erupted into whispers.

None of us, myself included, could believe what she had just said.

Leave the Galactic Alliance?

It was out of the question.

Then she delivered the real strike.

"Did I say the Galactic Alliance?" Her gaze slid past me, not to the throne, but to my Higher Council. She wore an all-knowing smile. "I meant from the thumb of the Shadows, and their tyrannical leaders."

The hall fell silent.

It is no secret that distrust runs deep between Normals and Shadows. Entire libraries are filled with the atrocities each side has inflicted on the other.

Even then, I knew exactly what Persephone was doing.

"Out!" I yell, and I hate how late the word arrives. I should have said it before she spoke her poison in my court.

My guards lower their pikes and surge toward her.

Persephone raises both hands and feigns shock. I have little doubt my guards are even a threat to her.

"Ok, ok. I leave. Jeez." She backs away with slow, theatrical steps. "Just keep my offer in mind, ok?"

Again, she does not look at me. She looks at my Higher Council.

In particular, she looks at my cousin, my second in command.

It is in that moment I understand how dangerous Persephone truly is.

Nothing happens after that.

For weeks, Siyama stays normal. Calm. Uneventful.

Then the reports begin.

People with black veins attack citizens in the streets.

Doll-like beings, too smooth and wrong, slice through law enforcement as if bodies are paper.

Entire towns vanish overnight.

And on the walls of the abandoned buildings, painted in bold purple letters, the message repeats.

Our love is for her.

Even my court is not immune.

During a council meeting, one of my advisors stands so abruptly his chair scrapes the floor. He screams, and the sound is not fully human.

His body tears itself open. Flesh splits. Metal gleams beneath it. Something inside him unfolds like a machine learning how to wear a man.

He takes several of my people before the guards put him down.

There is no denying it now.

The war has reached Siyama.

And I am to blame.

My present and past self, anyway.

I stand shoulder to shoulder with my army as a queen should when her realm is under assault. The capital has become a war zone. Smoke hangs low. The streets are scarred. Every alley feels like a mouth.

No one can be trusted. Nothing can be taken at face value.

To say morale is low is an understatement. Even I struggle to convince myself we can hold.

The enemy is relentless.

"Here they come!" I shout, raising my blade.

Against my royal guard's advice, I am on the front line. I want to look these horrors in the eye and destroy them myself.

A mixed wave charges us. Black veined bodies. Silicone dolls. Abominations warped by machine and something worse. Their roar rattles my bones.

Their numbers dwarf ours.

"Fire!"

A wall of bullets tears past my ears.

The front line of the horde collapses. Bodies tumble. The ones behind them do not slow. They trample their own dead and keep coming.

"Raise your blades!" I yell.

In unison, my soldiers lift steel. They will not admit it, but they are terrified. I do not blame them. They would not be human if they were not.

I brace for the familiar sound of bodies and metal colliding.

Then I see a blue blur.

A giant scythe cuts past my head.

It slams into the oncoming wave and obliterates it.

For a heartbeat, I simply stare.

The being moves through the horrors with ease, as if they are nothing more than obstacles on a road.

Blue cloak. Blue highlights.

More blue-cloaked figures appear inside our lines as if they were always there. Their scythes carve down the remaining attackers until the street is quiet again.

The blue-cloaked figure walks toward me.

A blue glow washes over us. Several soldiers wince and cover their eyes, but they cannot look away.

Then I see she is a woman.

She rests a hand on one of my men's shoulders and looks down at him. Her smile steadies him. He stares back, speechless.

"You all did well here," she says. She looks across my exhausted troops without a hint of arrogance. "My forces and I will take it from here."

As if on cue, the cloaked figures march forward into the city.

The woman steps closer to me and bows her head.

"My Majesty, it is probably best you leave the front line," she says, lifting her gaze to meet mine.

"Perhaps, Theresa, you are correct," I reply, watching for any flicker of surprise.

She chuckles, then smiles.

"My reputation does precede me."

She takes my hand with an ease that feels earned. "We will go together. We have much to discuss."

So now I stand once again at a window, watching Siyama burn, while a foreign force fights to save it.

The deja vu tastes like ash.

A door opens behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turn.

A young woman enters, college age if I had to guess. Short black hair, disheveled. One hand tucked into the pocket of a black hoodie. The other holds a box of muffins.

She walks up and smiles as if she belongs here.

"Want a muffin?" she asks, extending her hand.

Chapter One

Breakfast with a Queen

Present — Cassandra

If you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be eating a corn muffin with an actual queen — that I, of all people, would even be in the same room as royalty — I'd have said you were insane.

Yet here I am.

Sitting across from a queen. Her white hair neatly hanging on the shoulders of her black dress, and icy blue eyes looking down at her muffin. Making small talk with her. And watching her world burn at the hands of my best friend, who'd become a genocidal despot.

Probably best to leave that part out of the conversation.

"So, uh… Cassandra. That is your name, correct?" Anastasia asks, taking a bite of her blueberry muffin.

"Correct, Your Highness!" I answer, also taking a bite of my muffin. "You can call me Cass or Ca." I want to say Cassy, but the word stays lodged in my throat.

That nickname still stings to say or even think about.

It was Lillia's nickname for me. Now it is just a bitter reminder of what she has become.

"Just call me Cass or Cassandra. Whichever you prefer." I smile faintly and brush a few crumbs off the table.

"Very well, Cassandra." Anastasia tosses her wrapper into the bin and fixes her icy blue gaze on me. "Why are you here? You don't seem like the type to travel with someone held in as high regard as the Blue Saint herself."

I gulp and try to muster an appropriate response.

The answer is not even remotely simple. In fact, I am not entirely sure I understand why I am tagging along with her.

You see, after the Starport incident on Elespia IV, the Blue Saint herself paid me a little visit. To her credit, she did not hide why.

In fact, I had predicted Persephone would catch either her attention or Darkness's at some point.

I just wish I were not her sole source of knowledge about that violet-eyed sadist.

Because I barely understand Persephone myself.

Regardless, I told the Blue Saint everything I could about who and what Persephone was. Even about how she and my best friend merged into one unique being, and how she still goes by Persephone just because she can.

"Cass. Cassandra!" Anastasia snaps her fingers, forcing me back to this reality.

"Sorry. I get lost in my own head a lot." I shake my head and brush my hand through my hair.

"Truth is, I do not know why I am here." I take a deep breath and lean back in my chair.

"A few months ago, I was set to graduate from college and become a full-fledged adult and everything. Then this virus hits my world." I lean forward and chuckle. "And now I am here talking to you and tagging along with an actual Original."

Anastasia just looks at me as I smile and shrug. She can believe it or not. It matters little to me.

I find my life unbelievable, and I am the one living it.

"Well, it is good I am not the only one with such a chaotic life," Anastasia says, leaning back in her seat and chuckling.

"Being queen is not at all what it is cracked up to be, I will tell you what."

"You mean it is not all talking to animals, having household objects start dancing, and cleaning your entire castle?" I clasp a hand to my mouth and feign surprise. "Tell me I have not been lied to all my life."

Anastasia genuinely laughs for the first time in weeks.

"Nah, that only happens when you are a princess." She stands up and raises her hands. "As soon as the crown touched my head, reality stepped in and ruined the mystique of it all."

Her smile shifts into a frown.

"It was a lot for a sixteen-year-old. And it still is, twenty years later."

The solemn pain in her voice takes me aback. In that moment, I can see the burden she is carrying on her shoulders.

I stand up from my chair and make my way toward her.

With a friendly, comforting smile, I place my hand on her shoulder as the door flies open behind us.

And then my world goes psychedelic.

Chapter Two

Can I Just Stay in One Reality Please?

Past / Present — Cassandra

A pair of glowing red eyes greets me in the dark. They stare as I struggle to get my bearings.

Even in the blackness, their glow lets me see my hands, tinted red. I lift them to my face and squint, trying to adjust.

"Um, hello?" I ask, unsure what I'm looking at.

The eyes are high off the ground. A Shadow, maybe. At least I think so. It is dangerous to assume anything. That is a lesson I am finally starting to learn.

They continue to hover and stare. No hum, breathing, or sound at all.

It is deeply unnerving and I hate it.

"Strong, silent type," I mutter, glancing around the empty void. "Could you at least—"

A flash of light interrupts me.

Instinctively, I squeeze my eyes shut.

When I open them, warm sunlight greets me.

I am standing in what looks like the same room I was in with Anastasia. Only this version is brighter, softer, and homier. The kind of place someone could sit for hours and watch the world outside.

And the world outside is breathtaking.

No flames, smoke, or anti-air lighting up the sky.

The city, reduced now to a modest town, stretches peacefully across the land. Forest spills in from every direction, reclaiming space.

It looks like something out of a fairy tale I used to read in high school.

Which raises a simple question.

How did I get here?

I scan the room, making sure no pair of glowing violet eyes waits in the shadows.

"Looks like it's just me," I whisper, my shoulders finally loosening.

If this is not Persephone's doing, then whose is it?

The door handle jiggles.

"Shit."

I glance around for somewhere to hide and spot an open closet. I sprint for it.

With barely a second to spare, I slip inside and pull the door nearly closed, leaving only a thin crack to see through.

Maybe whoever walks in will give me answers.

A girl can hope.

Through the narrow gap, I see a young woman enter. Medium-length white hair, frost-blue eyes, dressed entirely in regal black.

Just like Anastasia was earlier.

"You have got to be kidding me," I whisper.

Did I jump into the past? Or into some alternate timeline?

Everything looks too idyllic to be the present.

Before I can sort through it, another figure steps forward.

I cannot see them clearly, but the temperature drops. A chill crawls up my spine as my thoughts grow heavier, and darker.

No way it's him.

"Are you sure you heard what you heard?" the figure asks. Their voice is cold and precise.

"Yes. I am completely certain," Anastasia replies, shifting nervously. "They did not know I was there. They were confident."

"Wonderful." The figure rests a hand on her shoulder. "You did well. Prepare yourself."

Their gaze shifts toward the town.

"You are about to be queen. Whether you like it or not."

"What?" Anastasia and I say at the same time.

Both of them turn toward the closet.

My hand clamps over my mouth.

The figure raises a finger to their lips.

I squeeze my eyes shut, praying whatever brought me here will take me back.

I open one eye just in time to see an armored glove wrap around the closet handle.

My thoughts scramble for an excuse. Something clever and harmless.

Nothing comes.

I close my eyes as the door flies open.

"Cassandra. Earth to Cassandra."

A feminine voice snaps in front of my face.

I blink and focus on a pair of concerned red eyes framed by white bangs.

"Lucy?" I manage, still trying to remember where I am.

I'm on a couch. Lying down.

With a groan, I sit up and plant my feet on the floor. I fold forward, resting my forehead in my hands, and let out a slow breath.

A dull ringing throbs behind my eyes. Not debilitating, just annoying.

Lucy stays in front of me, her hand settling on my shoulder like she's grounding me.

In the background, a bag crinkles. Someone chews, unbothered.

"Is Cass having another episode?" a woman asks between bites. "Where did she end up this time?"

"I'm about to ask her that, Liss," Lucy replies, never taking her eyes off me. "Let her breathe for a second."

How kind of her.

Of all the Shadows, Lucy is the most humane. Still a little obsessive, quirky, but humane. It's refreshing.

Liss sounds the same as always. Carefree, sardonic, and apparently in full munchies mode.

There are worse people to wake up to after an uninvited time jump.

Lucy lowers her voice. "So, did you have an episode?"

The nerves in it give her away, even if she's trying to sound steady.

I lift my head, meet her eyes, and exhale again.

Now I just have to explain where I was in a way that doesn't make me sound insane.