The Hall was filled with people, servants, slaves, creatures but above of all; fear...

They all stood fidgety, slaves and nobles alike, awaiting the entry of The Queen. Few had actually seen The Queen, but all in one way or another, had felt her wrath. One rumor had it she only wore black and had a veil to hide her features, another claimed she was a merry heart and was the puppet of a greater power. Some said she was human others disagreed and said she had lived for thousands of years, some said she was the devil, brought to earth. Some said she was 7 feet tall, others swore she was a fairy and claimed she could hide in people’s pockets. The few people who had met her refused to tell anyone what she was like, she had forbidden them, and she would know, by her art, if they told. These few were the most nervous of all.

Trumpets sounded to announce The Queen's arrival all straightened and looked to the doors, some craned their necks.

The doors opened, and in walked The Queen. Merciless power echoed with every step she took. She was dressed all in black but wore no veil, this had a stunning effect. She was the most beautiful creature anyone had ever seen; beautiful enough to make the greatest hero crumble at her feet. She was proud and powerful. As she walked down the aisle, all the men fell to their knees. When she arrived at her thrown, she turned, but did not sit.

"Minions!" she cried, she voice was strong and powerful, it commanded your attention at once, she needn't have raised her voice in the slightest, the whole hall could have heard her had she whispered. "I come before you, as your Queen; all powerful with no fear of that power. I will use this power against my enemies, and those who disbelieve, or have treacherous thoughts... I see into the minds of men; learn to fear and obey me, and you shall not earn my enmity. I can see, you ask yourselves; what is this power? I answer you; complete power; the power of pain, the power of suffering, the power of death... I hold your lives in my hands." A shudder rippled through the kneeling crowd. "Rise," she commanded. "And so, become my army."

"What?" came a voice from the crowd, one man had raised. "An army, Your Majesty? What for? Our country is at peace."

"Fool..." she breathed, sitting in her thrown, shoulders pulled back collar bone prominent. “Should you have lived, you would have learned what for, and not to speak out of turn in my presence."

At first it was hard to see, and then you could see it in his face. He pretended not to notice, but after a while, pain was etched into his features. Within 30 seconds he had collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain, still he did not scream. Five seconds more did it; he was screaming in agony, the whole hall closed their eyes, looked away or flinched. This went on for what seemed like an hour, soon the man's screams died out, and his body hung limp. She snapped her fingers and two guards took the body away. The Queen leaned back in her thrown, a faint smile on her lips.

"As you may have noticed," she informed the crowd, "I have a love of pain; pain and suffering, prior to death. Are there any other objections to being part of my army?"

The crowd was silent, they still knelt. "Good," she said. "Now that the insolent creature is gone, I will tell you why Illlandia, our beloved country, is no longer peaceful, or safe." She rose and began pacing; "I have been Queen of Illlandia for 216 days and nights, my power has been demonstrated, but not nearly to its full extent. I wish to be remembered as the most powerful being who ever touched the earth, less than a hair's breath away from being Goddess. I wish to be remembered, not only by my own people, but by the rest of the world as well." She paused to let this sink in. "While visiting my sister's country," her tone was calm, dangerously calm. "She challenged me, saying she had the stronger army. She has become irksome to me over the past few months, far too sure of her power, too confident. She made a mistake; she knows my magic is stronger, yet she still underestimates me, for being younger, five minutes younger. I told her I would prove my army's steel on the battlefield. And in this way, you have become my army. Each of you is to be Captain. Go and find yourselves each 30 men to be our troupes. Report back to me in one day's time with the names of your soldiers. Those who run, and do not return here tomorrow, will be sought out and killed, slowly. The battle is in 32 days time, prepare them for battle and kill all of my sister's men, leave no prisoners or hostages. Kill all, save my sister, she is mine."

Through fear of their Queen, the men, now Captains going into battle, left the Hall. There had been 150 men in the Hall, but precious few of them had ever been in battle, they were noble by blood, not strength, and even fewer of them new of 30 brave men who would risk their lives, or do any good in battle. The truth was, they were cowards, more afraid of their Queen then they were of the enemy. In this state, the men left the Hall, knowing they were walking to their deaths, and painful, sorrowful deaths they would be.

The Queen watched them leave, she could smell their fear, they would not disobey her; they would not dare. She would prove her sister wrong, she was stronger. She had been put down all her life, it would end here, it would end with her sister's life. The Queen smiled. Oh, how painful and slow her sister's death would be, revenge was sweet.

-

"128 Captains have returned you’re Highness, brining a total of 3556 men with them," a kneeling servant told his Queen
"How many fools have not returned from yesterday?"
"17, you’re Majesty."
"Fools..." she breathed. "They know I will find them, they simply waste my time preparing troupes for battle... Morgwig?" she addressed the servant.
"Yes, you’re Majesty?"
"You said my captains brought with them a total of 3556 men, did you not?"
"Yes, you’re Highness."
"Why did you refer to them as such, and not as warriors, or soldiers?"
Morgwig shifted uncomfortably.
"Speak slave!" her eyes flashed dangerously.
"Because precious few of them are soldiers, you’re Majesty; many are farmers, merchants, tailors... Scarce few have ever beheld a sword, much less used one."
"Their talents matter not to me; all I need are their bodies."
"Bodies, Majesty?"
She turned to face him, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony, he was not as strong as the first man. He twitched and writhed. Then it stopped. He opened his eyes, and felt along his body, amazed to be still alive. She wrenched him to his feet and ran a pale finger down the side of his face, he trembled.
"It is I," she whispered. "Who asks the questions, Morgwig, do you understand that?"
"Yes, My Lady." he whimpered.
"All you are fit for, is to answer them, am I right, Morgwig?"
"Yes, you’re Majesty."
"Am I always right, Morgwig?"

"Yes, you’re Highness."
She smiled, "Clever boy... Understand that if you were not a good slave, I would not have spared your life. Now go. Syrian!" She called forth another servant.

"Yes, you’re Majesty?"

"Where are the troupes assembled?"
"In the courtyard, you’re Highness."

"Very well, I will see them now."

She walked down the corridor to the courtyard, all along the way, servants bowed and scurried out of her way, she had a strange gleam in her eyes. A gleam of pleasure along with a faint smile dancing on her lips. When the Queen was happy, it meant pain, suffering and death for many.

She entered the courtyard to find thousands of men, standing. Many looked weak, few looked as if they knew one end of a sword from another and most looked as if they had been forced to this dreadful place, and would run as soon as they got the chance. The Queen smiled, they would not get this chance.
"People! Men! Soldiers! Minions!" she called to them. "Do you know who I am?" she paused. "I am Ivy Inficio, The Queen of Illlandia. Your Queen. Do you know who you are?" Again, she paused. "You are my people. You are the men who live off my land. My slaves and pawns, to with as I please. It pleases me to have you fight in my war to prove my strength. It pleases me for you to die to prove my power. And this you will do."

A murmur ripped through the crowd of men, The Queen flared.

"You will speak when spoken to!" she cried and with and with a sweep of her arms, every man fell to his knees. "Power..." she whispered this word, but still every man could hear. "Power, is what I have. And you? Do you know what you have?" she asked them. "You have only one thing; will to obey,” at her final word, vines began to grow from the ground, slowly at first, then soon, all that was left of the 3556 men were 3556 strangled corpses, entangled in vines.

"Majesty!" cried a servant standing nearby. "The soldiers!"

The Queen was too happy to punish him for his impudence. "All I need is the bodies." she said. She stepped off the platform she had been standing on and walked toward the entangled bodies. She bent over and touched the closest corpse's head with her ring finger.

"I dub you Sir Thornton, the first of my dead soldiers."

The body rose and broke off the vines, they fell to the ground. The body, still very much dead, knelt.

"I am honored, My Lady," he said in a monotone voice and kissed her hand.

The Queen then proceeded to awaken the rest of her dead, perfectly obedient army. The whole time she smiled; not for the pain these men had endured, nor for the pain their families and friends would feel, but for the look she would see on her sister’s face when she won the battle.

-

“My soldiers," she spoke almost fondly to her dead army on the day of their battle. The day of Ivy Inficio’s potential victory.

"Today we meet my sister in plain battle. You have all died once, however this does not mean that you cannot die again. I give you full rights to die for your country, for me, for my pride. However, I do not give you permission to die without bringing one and twenty of my sister's men down to Hell with you!"

The army cheered, their minds were gone, they were completely devoted to their mistress; it was death devotion.

"Today," she said, wicked smile upon her face, "Today, we rid this world of my sister for her insolence-" they cheered, "for her self-confidence-" they cheered, "and her irksomeness!" the loudest cheer of all rang out. "Now," she whispered to her troupes. "Lets us go to battle, I have no interest in prisoners or hostages, slay everything that has a drop of Scilirian blood in it."

As one, the troupes turned and marched out of the courtyard. They marched in perfect formations, not a foot out of place. The Queen walked to the stables, to her mare, and to her Captains who stood, awaiting her command.

"Captains," she called to them. "Your troupes are ready; they march to the battlefield as I speak. They will follow any command you give them, they are you puppets to play with, as you are mine. Now, let us mount our horses and ride to the battlefield."

“‘Us’?” asked a man. Which, was impossible to tell. "You mean to say, that you fight along side us, Majesty?"

"Yes, fool!" Her eyes were alive with fire and steel. "Were you really foolish enough to think that I would entrust you with my army? No, if I did not need thinking captains for my regiments, you too would be dead, fighting for my glory, and I, commanding all of you. Should disobey me and survive this battle, you shall know the taste of my steal after; I will not waste my magic on you. I come, not to fight along side you, I fight my sister, I will be the cause of her death. Then, I will capture her country, and Sciliria will be but a province of Illlandia."

With one deft movement, she swung herself up onto her mare. She was almost more beautiful now; she sat sidesaddle, proud and elegant. She wore no armor and her black dress made no contrast against her mare's black flanks. Cole, The Queen's mare was the only living thing that The Queen had ever come close to loving, they stood now as one being, one great centaur. The Queen watched as her Captains clumsily made their way atop their horses, their armor squeaking and scraping. When finally, they were ready, they sat hunched over or slouching, most ungraceful of them, as Captains. The Queen turned and galloped off, in the direction of the battle. The Captains made to follow, but they were too slow. The Queen and Cole road as one, nothing could stop them. As she approached the battle field her eyes grew wild. When at last she sat atop Cole, at the crest of the hill over looking the battlefield, she saw what her wild eyes had been straining to see. In the distance, a white figure sat, atop a white horse, their bodies seemed one. The white figure's golden hair blew in the wind as The Queen's raven hair did. The Queen relaxed and smiled as she breathed; "Fare thee well, sister."

-

As time past, The Queen began to see her army lines forming on the horizon behind her, and her sister's in front of her. When the sun was high in the sky, The Queen decided to ride down to meat with her sister. She would make the first move, she would prove herself stronger. As she shifted in her saddle to make her mare move down the hill, she noticed that the white figure had started the descent a moment before her. She clenched her fists. No! She was to be first! She would not show her anger; she would remain calm, dangerously calm. It was only a matter of time until the sister's carcass lay, bleeding on the battlefield. This thought soothed The Queen, patience, patience. At the center of the field they met, and The Queen's anger grew again. Though any mortal man would disagree with her, Ivy Inficio had always thought her sister to be more beautiful. Her sister was fair with golden ringlets that fell to her shoulders. Eyes bluer and brighter than the brightest sea and lips red as blood, both her mouth and eyes could laugh. While Ivy Inficio was as fair as her twin, her hair and eyes were dark and cruel; true laughter had never crossed them. Her hair was straight and was pulled up in a bun, for it was too long to leave down. When they arrived at the valley, twixt the two hills, the eldest spoke first.

"Good morning, Sister."
"It will be good, as it is your last," said the dark Queen.
"Do not be too confident in your army, I give you one last chance," said the fair one.
"A chance? For what? To spare you?" Mocked Ivy Inficio.
"To surrender."
Ivy Inficio laughed, "I? Surrender to you? With the strength of my army, you should be begging on your knees for my mercy. With me, I have more than 3000 men would will do my bidding without a snap of my fingers. They have been ordered to destroy your army, and this they will do, without a moment's hesitation after I give the order."
"For what your army has in strength and steal, it lacks in heart. My men fight for our country that you have threatened to make your own. I fight for my people and my land, not for myself. I will willingly die in battle, should it spare another man's life, his pain, or his piece of land. My army has strength of heart, and will win the battle with love as their greatest weapon. I ask you once again, please surrender. I do not wish to loose my little sister," she said; her eyes sad.
"I am no longer little, Sehyra Saalon!" cried the dark Queen.
The eldest shook her head, "You will always be my baby sister."
"We have nothing more to say to each other!" yelled Ivy Inficio in her sister's face. The eldest remained composed. The Little Queen rode off in a fury.

She was no longer little. She would show her sister, her sister would pay. When she reached the crest of the hill, she looked down on her sister. The eldest looked up at her sister. Even thought the distance between the sisters was great, their eyes met.

"Why cannot she just treat me with the respect I deserve?" said the youngest to no one. "Why can't she just learn to live and let live?" said the eldest to herself, she turned to join her army, beyond the crest of her hill.

-

As The Queen supervised the formation of her army, she thought of what she was doing, and found herself questioning her judgment. Should she do this? What would happen? What was she doing? Was this a mistake? What if her sister actually won the battle? She shook her head, and forced these thought to the back of her mind. Since when had she ever worried about right over wrong? These were her people, she could do what she wanted with them. She wanted to win the battle, she would win the battle, and she would show her sister. The wench would be slain.

-

The end to this story is a rather curious one; it ends with the evening of the day of battle, or the would-be-battle. That day, The Queen never left her tent, and not mad was brave enough to enter. At nightfall, one man walked inside, but came running out, his face horror stricken.

“The Queen is dead,” he said before he hit the ground in a faint.

The Queen was indeed dead; the best physicians in all the empire came to see her, but could not find a pulse, or a breath of air that plagued her lungs still.

She was meant to be buried, but on the day for which this was set, the body was gone. In its stead was left a skeleton, and in the skull’s grinning mouth lay a heart, a black heart, that still pumped blood. After much quarreling, they buried skeleton and heart and left the mound of earth above it unmarked; for fear that the bones were curse enough.

Nothing ever grew on that earth, with the exception of the reddest wild roses in the country, but no one eve picked them, because only just around the burial spot was a dense layer of poised ivy, guarding the roses against human hands...

This is a story that my grandmother told me as a child, this was why Illlandia was a province of the happy Scirilia. My grandmother used to tell it to me when I became ill and could not help with the work around the farm. The story never meant more than fiction to me until the day that my grandmother told me a secret. She told me why it was so important that I know the story. I was a secret I would have slept easier without knowing.

--

AN: (cue moaning and apologizing) I know, and I’m so sorry, I haven’t posted anything gin ages and I know all my readers want to kill me, but I’ve had this idea for SO long and it was just rotting on my computer and then I got this great idea for it so I’m posting it. A few of you may have seen the rough of this, AGES ago (and when I say ages, I mean ages, like two years practically, I think), but this is re-vamped and got a little more added on. NO idea when I’m going to update this or anything else really for that matter, please bare with me; I’m in the highest math course available for my grade, along with highest science, English and French not to mention I’m taking a biology course for the grade above me. Yea, I’m kind of swamped. So please be patient; I’ll update when I can, and when I can write some stuff that isn’t absolute CRAP. (I’ve writing quite a bit of that lately, but wont let anyone see it :P. I’ve also written some back info on EoA, but I just need an opportunity to fit it in, I also have a few GREAT plot twists and turns set up.)

Thank you so much to those who haven’t given up on me yet, you don’t know how much your reviews mean to me!