First Move

Loud. Too loud.

A deafening roar shook the ground beneath her feet. The air vibrated with a primal, pulsing energy that set her teeth on edge. Through the haze of blinding light, fragmented images flickered into view - sleek, metallic birds soaring above. The sky bled with a kaleidoscope's of colours, a vibrant light that drowned out the stars.

What were they? 

The scene dissolved. Towering spires, their surfaces glittering with a thousand tiny lights, rose up towards the heavens, a city unlike anything she had ever known.

Yet the vision quickly shifted once more, replaced by a horrifying tableau. There, amid a crimson pool, lay a familiar figure - dark brown waves cascading over lifeless golden eyes. 

Eydis! 

No, it couldn't be, this couldn't be real. Yet the serene smile that ghosted across her lips was a chilling paradox.

Golden eyes snapped open to the familiar crimson drapes of the study. The storm outside a constant, melancholic drumbeat against the windowpanes. Relief washed over Athena, so intense it almost felt like a physical sensation.

Across the room, Eydis stirred on her chaise longue, a sardonic smile playing on her lips as she flipped through a book titled 'The Art of Human Seduction.'

"Another delightful premonition, Thena?" Eydis asked nonchalantly.

Athena forced a swallow, her voice betraying a tremor. "Just… vivid dreams. Why the… curious reading material, Eydis?"

Eydis shrugged, tossing the book onto the nearby table dismissively. "Not mine, actually it's…"

As if summoned, the oak door creaked open, revealing Prince Adrian. A stack of books, their covers decidedly more risque than scholarly, tumbled from under his arm. His face flushed crimson, mirroring the scandalous titles peeking from the stack.

"Well, well, well," Eydis drawled, her amusement unconcealed. "Caught red-handed, wouldn't you say?"

Adrian cleared his throat, attempting to salvage his dignity. "Research materials, Your Majesty," he declared, "the human capacity for… erotic literature is quite astounding, wouldn't you agree?"

Eydis' eyebrow quirked playfully. "Oh, terribly fascinating, Prince," she purred, "do tell, are there chapters on basic hygiene? That desperation clinging to you is a tad… much."

Athena shot Adrian a playful look, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Heat rose on his face, but he met Eydis's gaze head-on as he adjusted his cravat. Only she could evoke such a delightful mix of amusement and apprehension within him.

"Alright, alright," he conceded with a sigh. "You caught me, my Queen. Curiosity got the better of me. One needs to stay… current with mortal trends."

A slow smile spread across Eydis's face. With a flick of her wrist, she produced a polished revolver from beneath the chaise longue. The weapon glinted ominously in the flickering candlelight. Adrian's surprise was instantaneous, but a cunning glint replaced it in his eyes.

"Picked this up from a recent trip across the Atlantic. Not yet seen in London's social circles, but…," Eydis leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "It's far more captivating than the latest penny dreadfuls, I daresay."

Adrian took the proffered weapon. "What's this, Eydis?" he inquired, his voice devoid of alarm.

Eydis tilted her head, her gaze unwavering.  "Think of it as... a necessary evolution. The human capacity for destruction is as fascinating as it is frightening. Don't you find it alluring, Adrian?"

"Is this a threat to our kind, Eydis?" Adrian murmured, turning the gun over in his hand, tracing the intricate design etched on the barrel.

Eydis's lips stretched into a sly smile. "Wouldn't know until we try, would we?" she murmured, resting her head on her hand with a dramatic sigh. "Who should we choose for a little… target practice? Lukas's form is rather… well-sculpted, wouldn't you agree?"

A snort of laughter escaped Adrian, a sound that rumbled pleasantly in his chest. He flopped down onto the plush velvet chair opposite her, a playful glint in his own eyes. "Why the dislike for poor Lukas, Eydis? Surely his unwavering dedication deserves a break from your scrutiny!"

Eydis batted her eyelashes with exaggerated innocence. "Oh, Lukas is perfectly... serviceable," she teased. "But someone needs to ensure those with… let's say, enthusiastically expressive eyes, remember the importance of the occasional blink."

Adrian laughed, the sound a stark contrast to the cold dread blossoming in Athena's stomach. She watched the exchange, a wry smile twisting her lips – a mask barely concealing the terrifying weight of her premonition. Her gaze lingered on Adrian, his eyes shining with an undeniable affection for Eydis. The tremor in his voice, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away.

But did Eydis see it? Or was she simply enjoying the harmless flirtation, oblivious to the deeper emotions she stirred? Even the lively debate about human courtship rituals couldn't drown out the chilling echo of destruction from Athena's vision. Her hand tightened around the armrest as her gaze drifted towards the gun on the table.

This was it. Life, as they knew it, was about to change.

How could she possibly alter the future she'd glimpsed? How could she save Eydis if that vision became reality? She stole a glance at the Queen. Eydis seemed unfazed, but a flicker of unease crossed her golden eyes for a fleeting moment. Did she suspect something?

Athena yearned to confide in her companion, but the weight of the vision – a vision stained with Eydis's blood – held her tongue captive. These premonitions had never been wrong. Yet, a new terror gnawed at her. 

What if revealing the vision backfired? What if morbid curiosity, not fear, flickered in Eydis's eyes?  The Queen, with her penchant for chaos, might even welcome such a violent end. Stealing a glance at the window, Athena saw the storm raging outside – a mere tempest compared to the one churning within her. A suffocating weight pressed down on her chest, the weight of an impossible choice.

*****

The Industrial Revolution's thunderous roar had become a distant echo, replaced by the relentless march of time. War, a harbinger of chaos, had scoured the world, leaving scars etched deep across the land.

Yet, for Eydis, it was merely the inevitable herald of change.

How quaint, she mused, that humans dared call her kind monsters. They'd reached for the sky. Every rustle of the newspaper, every mention of these "airships," sent a tremor through Athena.

Eydis glided through the throng, a vision in sleek white suits amidst the muted browns and battlefield greys dominated the cityscape. The sharp clicks of her stilettos echoed against the cobblestones, a counterpoint to the city's mournful symphony of despair.

Here, on the commoner's street, life clung on. A young newsboy, his voice hoarse from shouting yet laced with youthful optimism, hawked a headline: "Treaty Signed!" The city pulsed with a vibrant energy. Here, the grim silence of the war months ago had been replaced by a cacophony of hope, joy, and the steady hum of rebuilding.

Turning a corner onto the cobbled path reserved for nobility, she felt like she'd stumbled into a time warp. War may have ravaged London, but the social hierarchy remained fossilised in amber. Noblewomen, their faces etched with lines of aristocratic boredom rather than hardship, swished by in gowns the size of battleships. Their disdainful glances bounced harmlessly off Eydis' unconventional attire. Here, social niceties, not battles, were the daily concern.

One particularly over-jeweled dowager, a walking chandelier with a superiority complex, wrinkled her nose and gave Eydis the once-over. "Lost, dear?" she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps the circus is on the other side of town."

Eydis's smile widened, sharp as a shard of ice. With a languid movement, she casually unbuttoned her blazer a touch too far, revealing a glimpse of silken skin beneath the camisole. "Not at all, love," she purred, leaning in conspiratorially. "Seems the real entertainment's right here, masquerading as nobility."

The dowager spluttered, her face turning the colour of a particularly ripe tomato. Her elaborate gown, adorned with enough jewels to fund a small nation, snagged with a satisfying rip on a nearby horse trough, acquiring a generous helping of mud in the process. A shriek, enough to shatter a crystal chandelier, escaped her lips as she scurried away like a cockroach illuminated by a sudden spotlight.

Eydis, unfazed, continued her approach towards the imposing white marble palace. It stood defiant, an extravagance amidst the city choked by soot and grime. The doorman, a hulking figure with a wary eye, rumbled, "Princess Athena? Unannounced visitors aren't exactly her cup of tea."

Her lips curved into a knowing smile, a glint flashing in her golden eyes as she let a fang peek out playfully. "Perhaps I'm the vintage she's thirsting for, wouldn't you say?" she countered, her voice smooth as velvet. It seemed anonymity wasn't her only weapon. This oblivious doorman wouldn't recognize the Queen of the Damned even if she presented him with a signed portrait. Unlike Athena, forever entangled in courtly machinations...

The man swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat. This young woman, despite her ethereal appearance, exuded an aura of power that sent shivers down his spine. "I wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting," he stammered, ushering her inside with a trembling hand.

Inside, the opulent warmth of the living room was a welcoming change to the grimy streets. The Queen settled languidly on a plush sofa, her gaze flickering to the crackling fire – a luxury most were replacing with those dreadful, soul-sucking gas heaters.

Moments later, Athena swept in, her blonde hair catching the orange glow of the fireplace. Her elegant dress, though undeniably beautiful, held a hint of practicality – a subtle nod to the changing times that high society was yet to fully embrace. The doorman trailed behind her, his eyes darting nervously around the room like a frightened rabbit.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Athena began, her voice cool and measured. The doorman visibly paled at the address. "Had you informed us..."

Eydis quirked an eyebrow at the formality, a knowing glint in her golden eyes. "A telegram would send you fleeing to another continent, wouldn't it?"

Athena flinched, the accusation hitting its mark. "I was merely occupied, Your Majesty," she mumbled defensively, dismissing the doorman with a nod.

Relief flooded the man's features as he scurried out of sight. The heavy oak door shut with a finality that mirrored the tension descending upon the room. Athena's carefully constructed facade seemed to falter for a moment, a glimpse of vulnerability flashing across her features before she slammed it back into place. She sank onto the sofa opposite Eydis, her posture rigid.

"I wasn't avoiding you, Eydis," Athena sighed, the unconvincing tremor in her voice betrayed her words.

"We both know that's a lie, Thena," Eydis said in a soft voice. "Tell me, what troubles the Queen of All Gossip so much she ghosts her companion? Unless, of course, it's that unfortunate gown."

Athena's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. "Queen of Gossip? I suppose it has a certain ring to it, preferable to..."

Eydis' grin widened. "Queen of the Damned? Dreadful, truly."

"Not a fitting title for someone who fled court duty," Athena retorted.

"Court politics were always your domain, Thena," Eydis countered smoothly. "My presence wasn't exactly… welcomed by your dear father." Her voice softened further, a hint of concern peeking through. "So, what truly troubles you, Princess? Enough to flee to the next war-torn city?"

Athena flinched, a subtle tremor betraying her composure. Her eyes darted around the room, unable to meet Eydis' unwavering gaze. With a trembling hand, she reached for a chessboard, her usual refuge. But the pieces remained unmoved, their stark black and white offering no comfort.

"Just... questioning… life choice," she murmured, her voice strained. "A game, perhaps?"

Eydis leaned back. "Not a particularly happy life, by the looks of it."

Athena sighed, frustrated. "I find it… disconcerting how transparent I am to you, Your Majesty."

Eydis remarked nonchalantly with a wry smile, "Thena, for as long as we've been together, deception is a futile attempt. Now, tell me…" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, a glint of morbid curiosity flickering in her golden eyes. "Just how spectacularly gruesome is my demise in your little premonition?"

The playful banter took a sharp turn. Athena's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you—?" she stammered, then stopped herself. "It's just a vision, Eydis. The future isn't set in stone."

Eydis toyed with a ruby ring on her finger, her voice soft. "I despise the word 'inevitable,' you know that. But the more I dance with this eternity, the more I understand that even chaos…" she flashed a grin, a glint of fang catching the light, "...has its own kind of inevitability."

The weight of her words settled heavily on the room. Athena rubbed her temples, the burden of her secret pressing down on her. Her mind, a tangled mess, sought solace in the familiar black and white squares of the chessboard, but the pieces remained unmoved. They offered no comfort today.

"Shall we return to the game?" Athena offered, hoping to steer the conversation away from morbid topics.

Eydis' gaze, heavy with untold stories, held Athena's for a long, pregnant moment. A barely perceptible nod was her only response.

Athena furrowed her brow, studying the intricate dance of chess pieces on the board. A long silence stretched before Eydis sighed, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Always so hesitant with the first move, Athena. Relax, and enjoy the game."

A humourless laugh, laced with despair, escaped Athena's lips. "The first move," she whispered, "sets in motion an infinite chain of possibilities, you always say. But what if one of those possibilities leads to your end?"

A ghost of a smile played on Eydis's lips. "Terrifying, isn't it? But even mistakes," her voice softened, a mere echo, "can birth infinite possibilities for correction. So, come, Princess, make your move."

Athena remained rigid, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. Chess, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield mirroring the war within. 

Yet, Eydis's words echoed in her mind, a seed of defiance taking root. A defiance unknown to the Queen of the Damned, a defiance that would change everything.