The Queen's Awakening - Retribution: The Queen's Awakening, #1

By Crystal A. Walker

After a betrayal that happened between two great houses, House D'mar has been in exile for more than a century. With her people forbidden to practice their ancient ways, the D'marians are facing extinction. As the new Head of House, Lady Ava breaks all of the rules to do what is necessary to save them. With King Waverly's threat to kill her if D'mar returns to using their powers and a banshee haunting the legendary Healspring where her people are bound, can she do enough to save her people before they cease to exist?

 

Series: The Queen's Awakening

Series Number: 1
Demographic: adult, mature audience
Page Count: 255 pages
Word Count: Under 60,000 words

Print Version ISBN: 9781726607100
Trigger warning: Content contains some violence and adult language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crystal A. Walker
• Release date: Mar 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201695729

Crystal A. Walker

CRYSTAL A. WALKER is a self-published author, blogger, and journal designer. She received her Bachelor’s in Arts in English Literature in 2009 from the University of Maryland University College graduating cum laude. In 2010, she found her passion for writing and started drafting and illustrating children’s books. Besides writing, her other passion is traveling where her adventures have taken her to almost a dozen countries and numerous locations around the United States.

Book preview

Map of Orbis

The Queen’s Awakening Series

Book I: Retribution

Forsaken Royalty

Unknown Allies

The Secret Quest

Book II: Vengeance

Traitor's Demise

Bane

Scorned Nobility

Book III: Revenge

Sovereignty

Wrath

Uprising

Prologue

There is a story of a Krässen king who fell in love with the widowed queen of D’mar. The king was an adventurous ruler who knew no bounds and sought to build his kingdom. Upon hearing about the passing of King Quintin, King Harold reached out to the widow. The queen was a captivating woman with bewitching pewter eyes that could steal souls and turn the hearts of the most cold-blooded men. Although enchanting, her greatest flaw was missing her beloved husband dearly, but found comfort in the presence of this new man.

Courting between King Harold and Queen Ysoldra created electrifying excitement in the kingdom as there was now the prospect of a possible unity between their houses. Ysoldra filled the void in her heart where her cherished husband left by finding comfort in the presence of this new man. As she peered into the eyes of her son, the future King James of D’mar, she knew that King Harold would be the ideal fatherly figure he needed in his life.

Deeply infatuated with one another, Harold and Ysoldra spent several inseparable months together. Behind vacant corners, they’d steal a kiss or find company in each others arms while reading books and planning their future together in front of the fireplace. When the moment came for Harold to tell her that he must depart for a dangerous crusade that would bolster his army and solidify his place in Orbis, Ysoldra faithfully remained behind awaiting his return.

D’marian moths carried news of his campaign that took him to the furthest corners of the map. Early in his crusade, letters arrived almost daily and all signed with...

For several weeks, Ysoldra kept the love letters tucked away inside the pockets of her dress and escaped to read them every free moment she could find. Each time a moth brought her a letter, her heart leapt knowing Harold was alive and thinking of her. But one day, the tides turned and the letters became shorter, less frequent, and lacked the comforting words she yearned for.

Where is he? Ysoldra cries into her hands.

He is far from us, my queen. Battle is wearing on the King and he is thinking of you. Surely he is alright and just caught up in the events. War takes a toll on a man. A letter will arrive again soon, her trusted advisor explains.

You are a great friend, Helen. I will try my best to continue to be patient for his return.

I sense that he will be home soon. Continue to be strong for him. James needs his mother right now.

Despite trying to remain strong for her betrothed and resilient for her son, madness slowly consumed her.

He has left you, the voice inside her whispers.

No, he’d never do that! He will return

Feel the wrath inside your heart burning? That’s the feeling of betrayal.

Silence! she holds her hands over her ears.

Sensing the queen’s demise into the deepest layer of insanity, the servants distance themselves from Ysoldra. Not to give her privacy, but out of fear that her patience has turned into wrath.

When news finally arrived that King Harold was successful in his campaign, Ysoldra anxiously anticipated Harold's return. The household watched her pace in the rooms, continuously stare out of the windows, and ask for updates regularly. Days turned into weeks, then weeks into months with no word from the king. Tossing and turning, she awoke each night in a cold and clammy sweat. Seeking out help, she returned to her trusted friend and advisor.

Where is he? Ysoldra holds her chest.

Helen turns to the onyx orb and her eyes melt to black. Seeing an unfamiliar land, she hears Harold’s commanding voice pushing his soldiers onward. He continues his crusade to the furthest reaches of the world. He has a thirst for power that only a massive army will quench. We must remain patient for his return.

I have waited long enough! an apothecary jar explodes behind them.

Helen’s eyes widen. Yes you have, but still...You must wait longer.

Still faithful to her love, Ysoldra continued to wait but lost all sense of reality. Each day that Harold was away, Ysoldra's heartache worsened. Her sense of time blurred, making what was only a year feel like a millennium. Every time she awoke thinking her beloved was sleeping by her side, she felt the void in her chest grow and she needed her king to fill. Before long, her pain boiled to hatred and to seek relief, the queen sought out the coveted Healspring. There, she submersed herself in the therapeutic waters in attempt to provide herself with a minuscule amount of relief that she hoped would allow her to cope with her loneliness and misery.

After a successful campaign, Harold returned and ventured to the pools to cure his battle-ridden body. Seeing her standing at the water’s edge, he examines Ysoldra’s body that has wasted away. Her golden blonde tangled hair like hay, her adorned clothes soiled with mud, and the rosy pink of her cheeks faded to match the grey under her sunken eyes. Underneath the shadow of a ruined woman, he manages to find a glimmer of the soul he fell in love with.

What has become of you Ysoldra? You are not the woman I remember, his voice cracks.

My poor king, she examines his hardened face focusing on the deep scar that has etched itself into his hairline. The bags under his puffy eyes droop giving him the appearance that he’d aged at least twenty years. War has worn on you. I have waited patiently for your return. Now that we can be together again, I’ll be back to myself soon and can help you heal.

Clearing his throat, I’m afraid that will not be the case.

Are you leaving again? So soon? Stay with me, please, she grips her dress.

The reason I am leaving is not for another crusade....It’s...There is no easy way to say this, he watches her eyes flood with tears. I have fallen in love with the daughter of a conquered enemy. I did not have the heart nor courage to tell you while I was away. Seeing you like this, I wish I had spared you this torture.

Her mouth agape, she struggles for breath. This cannot be happening, she falls to her knees and clings to the pool’s stonework edge. Watching Harold walk away from her, Ysoldra's heart finally shatters. I have mourned the loss of two loves in my life. I will not feel such pain again. You have abandoned me! she wields her power to throw a rock at him. I was good to you. I loved you, waited, and was loyal. More than you could imagine! You knew this would happen. Your betrayal will be your undoing!

Turning around, No Ysoldra. Your hatred will be yours. Go home to your son.

Ignoring his advice, thoughts of revenge consumed her. Your loyalty meant nothing to him. Forever, you will be isolated. Alone. Undeserving. Even your own son will abandon you.., the voice inside her whispers again.

The night of the king’s honeymoon, Ysoldra sneaks into King Harold and Queen Elizabeth’s royal quarters. Hiding in the shadows, she watches Harold's bride climb into bed awaiting the first night with her husband. Fiddling with her fingers and repeatedly biting her lip, Elizabeth nervously awaits the king's arrival.

Emerging from her hideaway, Ysoldra takes a place near the edge of the ornate rosewood bed. Startled, Elizabeth utters a scream that is quickly silenced by the telepathic grasp of Ysoldra's grip. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Ysoldra runs her long tapered fingers through Elizabeth's curly chocolate hair. Her supple lips quiver sensing the touch of Ysoldra’s grip tightening around at the nape of her soft neck. Her gooseberry-colored eyes water feeling herself stepping closer to the edge of death.

Such a beautiful girl. So much life ahead of you. 'Tis a pity you will not be able to experience any of it. Ysoldra's glowing blood-shot eyes fixate on her.

Opening the door to the bedroom, King Harold steps through finding Ysoldra's magical grasp on Elizabeth. Charging at the Queen of D'mar, the King attempts to break her grip. With a whisk of her hand, Ysoldra sends the king flying across the room, pinning him against the wall. Making her way toward King Harold, the betrayed queen drags Elizabeth behind,  chocking and gasping for air. Raising Elizabeth to Harold's level, he looks into her terror-ridden face knowing that he cannot do anything except look upon his bride helplessly. Please,...do not do this Ysoldra, he gasps.

Stone-faced, Ysoldra tightens her grip and brakes Elizabeth’s neck. Peering into the corners of her eyes, she watches Elizabeth drop to the floor like a discarded rag.

Trembling with rage seeing his bride lay below his feet, No! How could you?

You left me alone and heartbroken. I have merely extended you the same bitter anguish.

You killed an innocent women to punish me? She had nothing to do with you. I fell in love with another and your jealously got the better of you. I was a fool to have once fallen in love with such a monster. You have made a grave mistake Ysoldra!

You are no match for me, she said making her way to the window and vanishing.

Like Ysoldra, Harold mourned the loss of his beloved and returned to the Healspring seeking relief. Cupping his hands to sip the cool waters, he sees Ysoldra’s reflection looking back at him with her crimson eyes burning into his back.

How does it feel to be heartbroken, Conqueror?

Driven with vengeance, he lunges at her. Fighting back, Ysoldra casts her powers and pulls the earth around his heels, anchoring him to the ground. Still within arms reach, he yanks her closer and falls on top of her pushing her relentlessly into the ground.

The sharp rocks jab into her spine as his strong fingers dig deep into the bed of her collar bone. Gritting her teeth, she musters her power to knock him off. Enough! If you miss your beloved so much, I’ll send you to be with her! Consider it my wedding gift! Gripping the air, she chokes Harold.

Watching their king subdued, his guards run to his aid.

Overpowered by numbers, her powers wain and is unable to channel enough strength to crush Harold’s neck. Desperately trying to hold on to her revenge, her knees buckle and she collapses to the ground in exhaustion. Taking advantage of this moment of weakness, the men quickly detain her until their king can recover.

Between the coughs and gasps, Harold’s lungs sting as they take in the chilled dew-filled air bringing him back to life. Pushing himself back onto his feet, he digs his heels deep into the soft ground, dragging Ysoldra into the pools. Clutching her neck, he straddles her chest and holds her below the glittering surface. Trying to wiggle her way from his grip, her kicks splatter the men surrounding their king.

Feeling her grip lighten and hands falling limp, he continues holding her face under water to ensure she is dead. Looking into her frozen eyes, he watches the rage fade from her face and bloody eyes dim. Trembling, he stands over her, shaking his head at the sight of her body floating on top the small disturbed waves. I never wanted to hurt her.

The D’marians will not take the death of their queen well, his guard wipes the dripping water from his face.

"No, they will not. We shall intervene now. Their wrath is only known in legend and I do not want to face such an enemy. Their connection to Ortus Necto must be severed."

Quickly returning to Krässe, Harold gathered his forces to march onto D’mar and purge the magic from the kingdom. Soon after D’mar’s ruin - the defaeco -  Prince James recovered his mother's floating body from the pools, burying her nearby.

After seeing his love-stricken betrothed turn to madness, he swore that Ortus Necto was a dark craft that had to be abolished. With James inheriting D’mar as a young boy and Harold’s indomitable forces policing the realm, D'mar was forced to relinquish the old ways. To this day, Ysoldra continues to haunt the pools and is known forever as The Banshee Queen.

Chapter 1

Tucked away behind the shroud of grey mist, the kingdom of D’mar keeps strangers at bay. Citizens roam the mud-filmed streets aimlessly while their empty eyes stare into the air with little acknowledgement of Ava’s existence. This asylum they call home has bred generations too fearful to travel far from the dilapidated city walls. How could my family have allowed this to happen?

King Waverly's domination in the neighboring kingdom is unrelenting and suffocates the life from those who are not in his good graces. ‘The Oppressor.’ ‘The Ruthless.’ He is known by so many names more fitting than ‘King.’ Waverly is not even the true ruler of D'mar, but his reach casts a shadow over the realm. D'mar, like several other kingdoms in Orbis, carves out whatever meager existence under the boot of this tyrant. The only relief that can be offered is with the idea that our existence will quickly be snuffed from this world. I only beg for mercy for my people...I wish I could offer them so much more.

Death would be quick for those who stand against the king. Each year, more and more people die inside D'mar. Most of them perish from starvation while others succumb to disease. It’s common to hear people killing each other over what most would consider minuscule or robbing victims blind. Money. Food. Anything that may be of any value whatsoever, especially clothing. It has become typical to see a bludgeoned body robbed of all its clothes and left naked in the rubbish-filled street. I will never forget last winter when I saw a swarm of children encircling a fresh corpse. They pulled at the lice covered rags and fought violently with each other over who was claiming what. When the guards dispersed the crowd, the body was left with chunks of meat carved from the back and buttocks with the most desperate citizens turning to cannibalism. How far our people have fallen.

The desperation of the people is understandable. The cold season will soon fall upon the kingdom and each year when it does, D'mar becomes more crippled. Winter was never such a death sentence. On the contrary, it used to be a time of bliss. Children played in the snow, the food storage was stocked to the rafters, and a hot fire crackled in every hearth. Now, entire homes are subjected to arson just so citizens can have a night of warmth.

The children and elderly are the first to die in the wintertime. The plea to ration food is often ignored and any that has been saved is stolen, bartered with, or consumed in less than a month leaving too many people hungry. By the time spring arrives, survivors resemble walking skeletons. Ever since King Waverly's family clinched their fists tight around D'mar, winter had become unbearable. I'm so sorry. My family has failed you.

Uncivil is a term King Waverly has frequently used to describe D'marians. Perhaps that is the easiest way for a barbarian to describe another culture he chooses to remain ignorant of. The king has taken away the only way the people know how to live and continues to do so without remorse. Waverly was born into a family that has the world’s most powerful army built by the previous kings before him. His family has not tasted defeat for centuries. How I yearn to serve them a humble reminder of what it is to feel conquered. Every bone in my body screams to crush him and his pompous ego. But, how does the lamb subdue the lion? No mercy would be given to me or my people if I cross him. Kingdoms that have stood against the Krässen army have crumbled into ruin and learned that submission is the way to salvation.

Lady Ava's daily walk among her people is a constant reminder that havoc and devastation is the evidence left behind to those kingdoms that sought rebellion for self-preservation. The scars on D'mar's walls not only served as a reminder for her people, but a warning to all kingdom's in Orbis. King Waverly rules with an iron fist from Krässe and the untamed wilderness of the Forbidden Wood has gone unchecked to the point that it encroaches on D’mar’s walls bringing with it, monsters and beasts that were once considered lore.

The walls surrounding D’mar crumble under the thin layer of mortar holding the stones together. Sitting high on an eerie, D’mar was considered an impenetrable fortress. Today, it faces the constant threat of forest abominations as the city remains in an unforgiving state of ruin.

Rubbing her chest, My heart weeps each night knowing D'mar's place in the world is amongst the most doomed in the land. One day, we will cease to exist. D'mar will be wiped off the map and my people will simply be thought of as myth and a city of ghosts.

Dark times lie ahead inside the walls of D'mar. Lady Edina's final days are numbered with no citizen exhibiting any remorse or sorrow toward the head of the D'marian house. When I peer into their bleak eyes, I can see that they view me the same way as my royal ancestors...that I will be a