(The last night of the month of Djinn by the Badoui calendar. One moon cycle prior.)

The diminutive face of the pixie standing on the balustrade next to her was crossed with a mixture of concern and stony resolution. Alessandra was fairly certain her face was a mirror of the pixie’s. Not far in the distance, over the walls of Badi, torches flickered, marking the march of the coming onslaught. The scouts had arrived only days before to alert the city that an army marched. How they had crossed the entire desert unseen by Badoui scouts was still a mystery, but it mattered little at this point. They would be here before dawn.

They’d given up on thoughts of persuasion. Pretext abandoned. Way Warriors of the Guild and Acolytes of the Immediency alike stood shoulder to shoulder. The message was clear: The Guild would no longer tolerate Badoui refusal to accept the establishment of a merchant’s residence and the Immediency would no longer sanction a religion beyond their own.

Badoui fighters lined the walls, waiting as patiently as they could for the arrival. But the people of Badi were not a people of war. They were ill-prepared for an army as marched towards them. As many Badoui as could had fled the city under orders of Alessandra herself. Her counselors had suggested she join them. They’d argued that she could better bring together the remnant if she did. She’d refused. Seala understood. The pixie princess was barely larger than Alessandra’s hand, but she understood better than any others what held the queen to her city. The pull of her people. The chance to serve one last time. She’d promised to be here till the end with the queen and for that, Alessandra was grateful. But it could not last.

“You cannot stay by my side.” Her voice hummed on the night air and Seala’s glare was sharp and immediate.

        We’ve been through this. I’m staying. Besides, you couldn’t make me leave you if you wanted to. I can help. The pixie’s voice was edged with anger.

“We have. I cannot. But I need you to.” Alessandra turned from the overlook to face her friend. “I have thought this through a hundred different ways. I will stand on that wall tomorrow and face down this unholy alliance with my people. My fate will be the same as theirs.” She would not demean the pixie by crouching to her level, but she offered a hand for Seala to use as a platform and the pixie accepted and was lifted to eye-level with the queen. “I have one last favor to ask of you, my friend.”

Seala’s anger softened as she waited for the queen to continue and Alessandra glanced up at the sky above. The moon was gone. Hiding her face from what was to come. It should have been a night of rest and renewal. She would peek out from behind her veils in just the earliest hours before dawn, marking the start of the month of Dhikraa. The month of Remembrance. The thought brought a sour pucker to the corners of Alessandra’s mouth. It was the month to remember all who had been lost. It would now mark a month of sorrow and loss for the Badoui for lifetimes to come. A month where they would remember the lives lost on this night.

The two friends stood on the lunar balcony. Tonight they were alone. It was the high most point in the palace and, on most nights of lunar renewal, would have been filled with scholars and counselors along with the queen as they waited for the moon to return. Graceful stone balustrades rose from the edges to flair out at hip-level. Against them leaned a sea of dark blue pillows for resting between hours of scanning the sky. Pale marble stretched in repeating patterns away from Alessandra’s feet and far below stretched the famed gardens of the palace. They spread across eight levels of stone works and were home to nearly every piece of fauna on the continent. It had taken many lifetimes of Alessandra’s ancestors to collect them, one by one, and to cultivate the individual ecosystems they each required to stay alive. These gardens were the only place some flowers and spices still thrived. Alessandra bit her lip harshly and drew her mind back to the conversation at hand.

“My people will survive this night.” Her voice was soft with deep sorrow and Seala stepped forward to listen closer. “But our city will not. There is an army beyond our walls. Our people are scholars and makers, not warriors. My guard cannot hope to stand against them. I do not hope to stand against them. Much of what we have made here, will not stand. They will not risk our people returning to rebuild. They will raze this place to the ground. But there is a place that must survive.” She glanced down once again and Seala followed her gaze. Through the city, to the stunning blue-dome that marked the entrance to the libraries of Badi.

The Badoui had not wanted to build out the libraries only to find that they had to continually displace those around it to expand as their knowledge grew. So Alessandra’s ancestors had done the next best thing. They’d built the libraries themselves into the grounds and the tunnels. Now the blue dome simply marked the entrance to the caverns filled with scrolls and books that housed centuries of knowledge. Seala understood Alessandra’s request in an instant.

“We will collapse the dome.” As if to underscore her words, a building on the far side of the city caved inwards suddenly and with a crash that drew the eyes of the two women. “We will collapse many buildings so they cannot find it. I will not allow lifetimes of our work to fall into their hands.” She returned her gaze to Seala’s face. The pixie princess looked both thoughtful and sad as she watched another building collapse, and another.

        You want me to wait inside the tunnels, in case someone finds it anyhow.

  Alessandra nodded, her movement heavy and slow with unshed tears. They both knew what Seala would do. The pixie people weren’t gifted magicians. They could not move the air like legend said the Faerie could. They could not move the ground or shape nature itself like the Illutari. They did not breathe fire. They flew thanks to the wings on their backs, were gifted with the telepathic communication that amplified their voices, and the power of the dust that floated from their skin in waves. And they alone could choose what impact that dust would have on the humans, unprotected by magic, who inhaled it. Tonight, Seala would shed the black dust of death.

I will come and find you when this is over. I will help you escape. You will survive and you will re-draw your people to you.

Seala’s voice was resolute as she knelt to press a hand against Alessandra’s palm and the queen pressed two fingers to her lips, then her fist to her forehead the highest salute of gratitude and respect she could offer, afraid that her voice might betray a quaver if she spoke.

She lofted the pixie princess into the air and watched the tiny gold creature soar over the gardens and towards the blue dome. Then she turned back towards the door in the ground that led from the balcony to the rest of the palace. Her armor was ceremonial. Never intended for battle. But it would suffice for tonight.

–

(Some time into the month of Kharif by the Badoui calendar)

It was hard to keep track of how many days had passed when no sunlight light found its way into the cell. At first they’d returned with whips or mash at fairly regular intervals. At least it seemed as such. Every time she’d opened her eyes, they were there. The longer she refused to eat it, the less frequently they’d brought it. The blue-eyed man had returned only once to advise her that she was the only thing standing between her people and destruction. If she chose to starve herself, her people would be subject to the same. She’d forced a bite or two from every bowl since. It seemed to satisfy the requirement and she was left in peace between visits.

        You look like shit. 

Alessandra peeled her eyes open. She’d assumed the light floating in front of her closed eyelids was the torch of another meal and done her best to ignore it. Only now did she realize that there had been no clank of the door opening. Instead of the leering face of a guard, Seala’s glowing visage hovered just before her. The pixie princess glowed too brightly after the darkness and Alessandra reared back, looking forward through slitted eyes only. The pixie seemed to understand immediately and dimmed her light. Her dark curls floated on the waves of pixie dust around her shoulders and face, her filmy dress rolling in unseen wind around her legs as she backed away from the imprisoned queen.

“How did you find me?” Alessandra’s voice cracked with disuse and she swallowed thickly, trying to find some saliva to force down her throat. Seala glanced around the room for water, finding only a bucket nearby of refuse and made a face.

        That wasn’t particularly easy. There was nowhere for the pixie to settle, so she leaned back on her wings, lounging in midair instead. But I’m here, and it’s time to go.

Alessandra shook her head weakly, “I cannot. They will punish my people. They have made that clear.”

The pixie princess leaned forward and Alessandra caught an intense gaze. And as long as you stay, they use you as a tool to keep your people in line. What value does it serve to remain their weapon? They will see you dead before long. But not before they crush the fight from your people.

“But my people will live long enough to escape if I do not fight back.”

        Whether they escape or not will belong to you, but your people will live regardless. Seala’s voice was harshly edged and Alessandra narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t know that.”

The pixie shrugged, They have limitless labor. These pale-eyed weaklings will never let the Badoui escape. To the desert, or through death.

Alessandra fought to breathe. Wishing the chains reached so she could ball her fists against her eyes to banish the sight of her people, trekked through the city to be crammed into the pens that typically held livestock. They’d held their heads high as the Waylor and merchants poked and prodded before bidding began. She’d been shoved onstage first, not to be granted the same fate as those who had counted on her, to be a trophy next to the auctioneer. “I should have prepared my people for war. I should have never let their delegations into the city.”

        You are not responsible for the reprehensible actions of vile men. Seala’s voice was sharp and her glow brightened unconsciously as her anger heated her body.

“But I could have done more to limit their impact.”

        You did everything you knew to do. You weren’t the first to let their delegates into the city.

“But I should have made sure that my father was the last.”

Seala rubbed her eyes as if she could wipe away what she was seeing, Who are you? More focused on the past than the future, this is not the queen that I knew.

Alessa averted her eyes, “The future is dark. And I have had much time to reflect. I am wiser now.”

        I don’t know that I would call those who obsess over a past that cannot be changed wisdom. Seala’s voice was sharp again, Staying here, in chains, wallowing over what you should have done differently, will not change the present or the future. The former queen refused to lift her head and Seala lifted off to flit closer, They need a sign, Sultanah. If you escape-.

“The blue-eyed man has made it clear that I am the only thing standing between my people and total destruction.” Alessandra’s voice was even quieter than before and silence fell between the two old friends as the depth of the situation sunk over the pixie. Seala settled back on the lintel of the door, her eyes pinned to the woman in chains before her. Her armor had been stripped at the end of the battle for Badi, leaving only her undergarments to cover her modesty. The trek through the desert had left the one-time fine robe shredded and filthy. Now it hung over an overly thin frame. Blood had dried where the chains had broken through her skin at her wrists, her waist, her neck and her ankles, leaving dark brown stains across the shift. The queen’s dark hair, once renowned across the desert for its sheen and weight, had been shorn away some time after arriving in the city. Now only a crown of dark fuzz lay on her head.

        Do you believe that you truly do more good here than out there? 

Alessandra lifted dark, hollowed eyes to meet Seala’s gaze. “If I can serve my people by my life here, I will do so.”

        What if there was a way to escape, to stand up as a symbol for your people?

Alessa tried to laugh, a scoffing laugh at the very idea, but it stuck in her throat and Seala changed tactics.

        The library entrance is adorned with black dust. Any who enter without your grace for the next thousand years will suffer a painful, but quick death. The queen looked up, gratitude on her brow.

“I cannot thank you enough.”

        What was the point? Seala wasn’t much of one for the dances of language and court etiquette, but she’d learned some over the years and Alessandra could sense the pointed jab coming. Why preserve your libraries if you will not spur your people to return to them? 

The former queen sighed and dropped her head. “Seala, there is no escape for me. If I could, he would only torture my people until I returned. If I do not eat, they are given no food. This I know. I cannot be a symbol for my people if they are tortured for my sake.”

The pixie left the lintel to fly closer, her face alight with excitement as much as with her glow, But if there was a way?

Alessa shrugged. It was the smallest of movements, limited by the chains rubbing against her raw neck. “If there was a way…I would consider.” She faded off, then slowly lifted her eyes, afraid to ask the question she’d wanted to know most. “My daughter?

Seala’s face brightened, both with the glow and with enthusiasm, She works in one of the Waylor villas, and she has found favor in the eyes of her new master. She curries it with grace. Seala hadn’t known if Alessandra would be glad to know or furious. From the mingling emotions on the queen’s face, she was both.

“She must be thoughtful, but this could serve our people well.” Alessa’s face smoothed as she held Seala’s gaze, “Remind her who she is.”

        I do not think she has forgotten. The pixie shook as if to shake away the desperation of the cell, But I will find her, I will remind her, and I will return. She glanced over her shoulder at her friend, And I will expect you will have found some of the fire that brought Badi to legend by the time I return.