Monarch

You might have heard of her, probably not by this name. She's been known by a lot of names: 

Protector

Guardian

Cursed One

The Beautiful One

Warrior

Empress

There is more to her than a name. Much, much more.

So, so, powerful. She never had a chance to be young. One moment, her parents guarded her, keeping the sorrow of the terrible revolution taking place in her homeland from reaching her. The next...they were dead. And she was forced to grow up to assume their position. She had a twin brother, Viceroy. But he dealt with his sorrow, and his responsibility, differently than she did, taking to the network of tunnels underneath the city, leaving her alone to care for their younger sister Firefly.

She has a beautiful face, with its dark brown skin and eyes that are the color of burning embers. Long, silky black hair falls down her back in a straight waterfall, four orange streaks contrasting strikingly. She holds herself with dignity, her face an impassive piece of stone. She has never had time to cry.

Beautiful viceroy wings fold at from her back when she wishes to feel elegant, or beautiful, or show just who she is...or maybe just to get away from everything around her. She once used to hate those wings...they reminded her of the monarch wings her twin brother possesses.

She comes from an ancient race, one that has had a powerful protector for all these many centuries, The Darkness. And since her father died, and Viceroy has left, this is her void to fill. As well as the position of the Supreme Judge of the Thirteen. She carries it well. You would never know the sorrow and the pain that is hidden under that blank face. The only emotion many see is the anger burning in those eyes...

There isn't anyone beside Firefly who is close to her. The powers she possesses, the positions she fills--it makes her alien to everyone else, even her own people.

When people think of Monarch, all they see is those burning eyes, the perfect face, and the silence. But Monarch knows there is so much more, and she is dying to show her true self to someone. Someone who understands. 

She has waited a while for that person, one hundred years, almost, though she still looks like a teenager. She knows she'll have to wait a little longer, too, but she's patient. 

She knows that it'll be worth it in the end.

Or so she hopes.

She's lonely. Even surrounded by people like she is, she is so alone. But it's not like she's made an effort. She just waits.

She's not completely unhappy. She enjoys taking place of her messenger, who delivers her court edicts in her place to prevent her assassination. She also enjoys serving justice as the mysterious Darkness who hides behind the hood of a cloak but has unheard of powers. It's like she can become someone else. But there's always a relief--and a dull pain--when she is just simply Monarch.

 © Copyright 2017 Abigail Burchwell