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"Clack… Clack… Clack…"
This was the sound of a rock repeatedly hitting the lock of the prison cell under the skilled manipulation of a guard. Save for this sound, everything else was silent, and on a closer look, it seemed like the other three in the room were holding their breaths in anticipation, their unblinking gazes fixed on the lock and the guard trying to break it. Their reactions were expected; this was a prison break.
"This is taking a lot of time, Levi. If this noise continues, it will draw the attention of the soldiers, and I do not wish to be caught and bound again, not when I can now almost taste freedom," the only female in their midst spoke, and despite the calmness in her tone, her words and demeanor communicated authority and finality. "Let me handle it."
As soon as she made the decision to handle the prison break, the lock, which the guard—Levi—had been trying to break for hours, fell to the ground with a light clatter.
"Your majesty!" Levi gasped in horror, staring at the broken lock in shock. "You are not supposed to use the spells out here. What if somebody sees you? It could get dangerous!"
Levi's worry and concern were expressed in a most serious manner that would have anyone wondering just why it was so dangerous for their queen to be witnessed using the spells.
"You worry too much, Levi. Nobody sees us down here, I am sure about it," the queen said reassuringly with a slight nod, and Levi returned the nod with a bow, seemingly convinced that they—the queen—had not been caught but was unable to stop worrying in reality.
The queen saw through him, but she could be less bothered about his worries since he seemed to worry every time. Moreover, even if someone had seen them, it wouldn't make a difference. There was no need to hide herself anymore. She was finally out of this place, and it was time for the world to witness her. It was high time the world recognized the existence of Queen Elsinore of the East.
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In the throne room of the Western palace, a guard was on his knees and had his head lowered as he reported what he had witnessed to the two men before him. These men were the Galadiel brothers, the sons of the late king who had passed years back, yet neither of them had been considered fit to sit on the sacred throne of the West.
"Are you certain of what you speak of, soldier?" the older brother, Simon Galadiel, questioned the trembling soldier who suddenly regretted reporting to the brothers. He should have gone to one of the ministers instead.
"Yes, my lords!" the soldier cried out and bowed deeply until his forehead touched the ice-cold ground. "I saw that woman break the lock merely with a decided thought. I wouldn't dare report this if I was unsure about it."
"Very well, soldier," Simon spoke. "You have done well by reporting this to us first. Keep silent about it, and you will be duly rewarded when the investigation is complete. Rise and leave." Simon gestured with his hand for the soldier to rise, and the soldier gladly did so.
He faced the Galadiel brothers and bowed again before turning to leave the throne room, but who could have thought that that was the last step he was to take in this lifetime. Simon had drawn out his sword and had mercilessly slashed the soldier, killing him.
"That was totally necessary," the younger Galadiel brother, Torin, spoke with sarcasm as he watched the loyal soldier bleed away. "He had come to us first with the news, and you paid him back by taking his life. That was generous of you, brother."
Simon, who had been wiping the soldier's blood off his sword, faced his brother and smiled faintly. "I had to make sure he doesn't go spewing nonsense around about how he witnessed a woman using the spells. It would be troublesome, especially when the ministers hear of it."
Torin shrugged but didn't speak and went to take a seat. He faced the throne and stared at it for a long time, as if taking in and analyzing each and every detail that made up that magnificent seat. Like every other seat fit for a king, the throne of the West was majestic in every way, with two gold statues of roaring lions on each side. It was tall and wide, and from that seat, one could see clearly everything that happened in the throne room. In fact, it seemed the whole of the West was gathered in one place when one looked at it from that throne. He knew how it felt; after all, he had been there for a short while.
But unlike the throne of the other kings and kingdoms, the throne of the West couldn't easily be attained. No one chooses, wishes, or decides to be on the throne; the throne chooses and decides who sits on it instead.
Above the throne hovered two orbs which revolved in a steady motion about the throne, one white and the other emerald, but these orbs weren't glowing. They seemed dead; not even a streak of light was coming from them. These orbs had their significance—the white one signifies the throne, and the emerald orb signifies the people of the West.
There was a time these orbs glowed brightly, so bright that it would be blinding for anyone to stare at it for so long. It signified that both the throne and the people were happy and content with the occupant of the throne. It signified acceptance and good fortune for the West.
But now, these orbs weren't glowing; they seemed dead. The throne and the people have rejected both the Galadiel brothers. No one had to openly tell them that they have been rejected; the orbs say it all. It is believed that the green orb sees the heart of every person in the West and knows what they think, while the white orb is believed to hold the spirits of past kings, of their ancestors.
And all these people, both from this world and the world thereafter, have rejected them.
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