"Why on earth did I say I'd come with you?" Morrigan grumbles as she follows Nalani up the trail to the Breccia Domain.

Thanks to the endurance of their mares they made it to Innisfuil Valley quickly, perhaps no one had even noticed they had disappeared yet. Nalani briefly wonders what they suspect. Rowan will be furious she didn't tell him where she was going, so will Hestia and Vivianne.

Nalani wonders if any rumours will come of their disappearance. Perhaps they'll even paint Nalani and Morrigan as lovers. The thought makes the Fire Queen snort in amusement, she's sure they'd annoy each other to death if they ever courted.

"Hush," Nalani instructs, not stopping to check if Morrigan is still following her as they both climb up the trail leading to something. Or someone.

"I thought you wanted to see my aunt," Morrigan says, cursing as she nearly trips over a stray tree root entwined with roots and dirt on the forest ground. She knows Innisfuil Valley is sacred but she hates it here. Something clings to it like a blanket of mist, something that wishes to keep itself concealed. There's nothing Morrigan hates more than an enemy she cannot throw a dagger into, one that she cannot see.

"I do," Nalani says as she sees the beginning of the black chasm stretching out before her, "but I needed to come here first, something has drawn me here, perhaps my own unanswered questions from those dead queens who told me their prophecies or perhaps my queensblood has simply drawn here because of the hundreds below that share it," she finishes staring down the perpetual pit of darkness that now lies a few feet in front of her.

The Breccia Domain. Where generations of fallen queens lie, their corpses never to be seen or heard from again.
Their queensblood as potent as hers, except there's has now been stolen from their body and claimed for a different purpose, permeating into the ground, feeding the  sleeping Goddess below.

Their bones smothered in all the dirt, their skulls silently crying out for a proper burial, a remembrance but no one will ever speak their names again or even remember who they were. The are simply the fallen, perhaps their archaic bones have even been picked clean by any animals that live down there. But Nalani suspects that nothing, not even a worm, is alive down there in that hole. It is a chasm of death.

That never ending ravine of black that speaks in a foreign tongue, the tortured murmurings of the deceased and tales of the past, present and future with no one to hear it but the wind who will do nothing but howl in response, in faint sympathy.

But today Nalani hears them. Not physically but somewhere somehow she feels connected to this place, to those that lie below. She feels their outrage and indignation. And if Nalani doesn't slay her sisters she will join them, their hands reaching out for her body, ready to claim their soul as there's and listen to her all her grievances. And that terrifies her more than words can say.

For once Nalani is tentative as she takes her next few steps before stopping right before the void is about to engulf her. It almost beckons to her. Daring her to take another step and fall into the darkness below. But she does not. And takes extra care to make sure her heels are firmly engrained upon the soil.

"So you dragged me up here to peer into a hole?" Morrigan remarks dryly as she stands beside Nalani who retorts,

"Don't be disrespectful Morrigan," she says, continuing to stare down at the Breccia Domain half expecting the dead queens to crawl out, their faces gaunt and cadaverous as their bony claws maul through the soil below.

But they do not. Instead she keeps staring at the Breccia Domain. And it stares back. Neither of them willing to concede, stuck in a stalemate.

Until her hand begins to burn, Nalani gasps in surprise almost losing her balance by the edge but luckily Morrigan's hand grabs her waist, firmly grounding her.

Even when she is balanced again Morrigan's hand stays there in reassurance. Or perhaps something else.

But Nalani barely has time to notice it as she continues to stare down at her hand as the eye tattoo imprinted on her hand continues to burn, reminding her all too well of when the dead queens first imprinted it onto her hand, Mirabella Mistbane giving some vague message about the eye being able to guide her. But it did not burn like this.

"What's wrong?" Morrigan asks in concern.

"It's my hand," Nalani says, grimacing as the burning sensation doesn't stop but Morrigan follows Nalani's gaze but the warrior cannot see anything. No burn. No rash. No eye.

"I don't see anything," Morrigan remarks which makes Nalani glance at her in surprise.

"It's the eye tattoo on my hand," Nalani says, even pointing at it.

"I don't see any eye tattoo Nalani," she says, glancing down at the Nalani's bare hand in bewilderment.

"For Goddess' sake," Nalani exclaims, wincing again as the burning continues and instead of attempting to explain the mystery of the dead queens to Morrigan she simply shouts into the chasm, "what do you want from me!"

At first no one replies and Morrigan just looks at the queen in concern, pressing a hand to the queens head which she brushes away.

"Nalani are you ill?" Morrigan says, her tone uncharacteristically worried. This was not like the elemental queen.

Perhaps all her guards weren't enough. Perhaps Carina or the Arrons had managed to somehow get past their defences. Goddess. Morrigan tries to stay calm but her mind won't stop with the constant streams of disasters. If Nalani has indeed been poisoned she has no idea what she can do. She is no healer by any means. And it is her responsibility to protect the queen who is in her charge, her mother will never forgive her as even Pele believes Nalani is fated to be the next Queen Crowned.

Nalani doesn't reply as she begins to hear faint murmurs from the Breccia Domain below but instead of letting her fear consume her, she simply shuts her eyes and listens.

At first she hears nothing until an archaic voice smiles up to greet her,

"For you to see I need your queensblood," it whispers.

And as if in a trance Nalani quickly grabs one of the many knives strapped to Morrigan's side and taking a deep breath makes a thin slice in her palm, barely wincing as the blood flows freely into the pit below.

Quickly Morrigan snatched the knife off of her and looks at her with exasperation,

"Have you gone mad Nalani?" She exclaims, pulling her away from the Breccia Domajn, "come on we're leaving it's not safe for you here."

Nalani pulls away from her shaking her head, "I can't leave I need information."

"About what?" Morrigan asks trying to not raise her voice.

"A prophecy," Nalani says, "at Beltane during my performance I saw something." She finishes her voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as she shudders, feeling somethings presence below.

"What did you see?" Morrigan says with a strange calmness.

Nalani's eyes dart back to the Breccia Domain,

"The dead queens."

But before Morrigan has a chance to reply something in the ground stirs and the entire Valley goes completely silent and still, waiting in anticipation. And a second after they appear.

The dead. Though not as many this time as there was in the fire dome at Beltane. Today there is one singular figure who rises above the rest of the murky figures in the background.

This new queen Nalani doesn't recognise and as she hears Morrigan's gasp from beside her she knows she isn't crazy - now Morrigan sees the dead too.

The warrior even makes a pious symbol, needing the hilts of the twin hunting daggers strapped at either side. Though they will not have much use against a spirit.

"This isn't safe Lani," Morrigan warns, her green eyes flashing with unease. She hates this. This feeling of vulnerability. If that spirit or ghost somehow manages to attack Nalani or herself she has no real way to defend either of them. For you cannot kill what is already dead.

But Nalani ignores her, continuing to stare at the figure in front of her, she has something the other dead queens did not. A black aura floats above her head and if Nalani's knowledge is correct - that is the symbol of an oracle queen.

"Greetings Nalani," the queen says, speaking to her as if they are familiars, "I am glad you followed my guidance."

Nalani's eyebrows narrow in suspicion, "were you the one who drew me here?"

The queen nods, smiling, "your queensblood and gift runs strong, you were able to follow my summons with ease and I see you brought a companion, one whose blood hums with war."
Nalani resists the urge to scowl - she has little time and none of it for flattery or ambiguity. She wants to know why the dead queens have fixated on her in particular. Why have they chosen her to send their prophecies to? Why not Arwen or Carina? Or this alleged fourth born queen they told her about? Yet another threat for her to overcome. Though it is no matter. Nalani doubts this fourth born even knows of her true heritage.

She has had Vivianne's spies keeping an ear out for any gossip regarding queens. And no one on the island has heard anything about a new queen seeking to claim her birthright. If anyone found out about it the news will spread like wildfire and every islander will an ounce of piety will call for her, Arwen and Carina to be slain.

"Who are you?" Nalani asks, "and why have you brought me here?"

"I am Queen Elsabet," the queen states, "I believe Mirabella Mistbane told you of a prophecy at Beltane that I and the other oracle queens foresaw."

Nalani nods, a little uncertain. She has heard tales of Elsabet. Everyone on the island has. But if Mirabella and the other elementals of old trust her then Nalani has no reason to doubt.

"And I have brought you here to tell you that mine and the other oracles' visions have changed," she says, her voice dropping to an ominous hush.

"A decision has been made," she whispers, her voice appearing weaker than it was before, "we have seen it, the fate of the island has shifted because decisions have shifted, the omen about the girl of the island and the boy not of the island has reverted, now it is you who must worry as the Blue Queen is close to rising, as long as the four born lives you will never rule as Queen Crowned," she says with a crooked smile.

And with that final message the ghost of Queen Elsabet is engulfed by the Breccia Domain once again, dragging the other shadows of dead down with her. Claiming their souls to join their bones down below again.

The Blue Queen. A threat. More endless riddles for her to puzzle over when Nalani should be focusing on winning her Ascension. In fact she feels furious. She has had quite enough of prophecies and dead queens. For a moment she thinks of Katharine the Undead and the rumours that the dead possessed her.

Most on the island don't believe it, saying it is only a legend - some even say it was the Arrons way of discrediting Katharine further, distancing her from their legacy and of the poisoner gift to make Arsinoe the White Handed rise further to be above reproach. As soon as they found out Arsinoe's poisoner gift was stronger they abandoned Katharine. Or so the legends say and even some ballads. The Tale of the Undead and Uncrowned. Katharine's lament, a cruel reminder of how she is remembered.

In comparison to Arsinoe's Symphony - telling tales of her purity, strength and fairness. The Tainted. And the Untainted. Ironic that some call Arsinoe the latter considering she was a poisoned, who by very definition taint with any poison they choose.

"I don't understand," Morrigan says, her voice sounding more worried than Nalani's ever heard it, "the dead should stay dead, any prophecies should come from those alive with the sight gift, those like my aunt, we shouldn't listen to the prophecies of queens who are nothing more than dust."

"This is Fennbirn Mor," Nalani says softly, "nothing is as it seems."

Morrigan shakes her head, even drawing a small knife from the inside of her coat, ready to attack any new threat that presents itself. She has a burning intensity in her eyes - almost as if she wants someone to attack. Something that is alive. Something that bleeds. Something that she can kill.

"We are leaving," Morrigan says with gritted teeth, "puzzle over Elsabet the Mad's blabbering all you want later but we came here for one reason to see my aunt Hecate and I refuse to be by the Breccia Domain any longer, there is something not right about it."

Nalani raises an eyebrow. She never thought she'd see the day Morrigan looked unsure or uncertain about something.

"Scared?" She teases, trying to be light hearted about the situation even though her own heart thumps violently, filled with the adrenaline of what they have both just witnessed.

Morrigan only nods, "yes," and then locks eyes with Nalani, "and you should be too, the dead queens shouldn't be interfering with the live ones, something about this isn't right."

There's something in Morrigan's tone that makes Nalani pause and truly listen. The fierce warrior who knows no fear. If Morrigan is worried about something then Nalani cannot help but be unsettled herself.

"Alright," Nalani says, "let's leave, we still need to pay a visit to my old midwife after all."

"My aunt," Morrigan corrects.

"She raised me," Nalani says.

"She's related to me," Morrigan challenges which makes Nalani nod her head in defeat.

"Fine Mor you win," she says.

"I always do," she says with a smile, putting an arm around Nalani's shoulder as they walk towards their horses, away from the Breccia Domain.

—

It takes the two barely any time to ride to the Black Cottage, out of Innisfuil Valley, past Mount Horn where the stream by the cottage finds its source - to the place Nalani was born eighteen years ago. Along with Arwen, Carina and the other.

To see the woman who raised her for the first six years of her life. Hecate Murtra. The famous oracle.

It is strange to see her childhood home as they ride through the glen that surrounds the cottage, past the shade of tall oaks where flowers of every colour bloom among the tresses of green grass. It is just as Nalani remembers, in some ways that she thought she had long forgotten.

The same large brown bricked cottage with white wood and dark brown timbering, smoke dancing in the skies above as it escapes from the chimney. Even though Hecate is the only one who resides there the cottage still seems hums with a sense of vitality, as if every room in the grand building is occupied, as she glances at the top windows it is as if Nalani can see the childhood ghosts of her and her sisters dancing around the cottage. Smiling. Laughing. And the ghosts of so many more. Every generation of triplets raised together, each loving their sisters. Until they forget.

Nalani is not emotional regarding family usually but the atmosphere makes her feel a sense of haunted nostalgia which makes her almost feel uncomfortable. Now is not the time for reminiscing or for any past feelings of sentiment to be evoked.

But what pulls her out of her own inner monologue is Morrigan's cry of happiness as she dismounts her silver horse in one smooth movement, not even bothering to tie the horse up as she runs towards the figure standing by the door to the Black Cottage, whom Nalani has only just noticed after being distracted by her own stream of thoughts.

It comes as no surprise that the figure whom embraces Morrigan has the same blood red hair that the Murtras all share, though without any of the eternal trail of weapons decorating their bodies. Instead this woman has blue flowers braided into her bright hair, sporting a lavender floaty gown - perfect for spring. No jewellery adorns her neck, arms or ears but it is not needed. For Hecate Murtra is not one for extravagance, or so Nalani assumes.

The elemental queen carefully dismounts her horse, grabbing the reins of Morrigan's mare as well as she secures them both outside and when she is finished she finds both Hecate and Morrigan standing behind her.

"Hello Queen Nalani, both of you come inside I know it is spring but the air can still be rather nippy here in the north," Hecate says, walking inside, with both women following suit, all ending up sitting down in the lounge on the same black seats that strike a chord in Nalani's early memories.

"It is good to see you Morrigan," Hecate says, looking at her niece with fondness, "you've grown just into the woman and warrior I always dreamt you would, I bet Pele is proud."

Morrigan smiles in reply knowing that Hecate likely meant that literally. She remembers her mother describing the aspects of Hecate's gift, that mainly revolve around the future and can come when she is both awake and dreaming.

"It's been far too long," Morrigan replies with an uncharacteristic gentle tenor in her voice, "the family misses you."

"I miss them too," Hecate replies, "but the warrior life never suited me, it is lonely at times here but I enjoy living a simplistic life, tending to the plants, vegetables and flowers, reading my books and some days I visit the Lermonts and the priestesses in Sunpool."

Nalani notes that that does sound like a simple and easy life but wonders how Hecate doesn't claw her own hair out of boredom. One benefit of being a queen is that she will never have to be the queens' midwife. Tasked with not only delivering the new triplets into the world but living practically in isolation for the interim between the births.

A few more moments pass as Morrigan and Hecate chat away, reminiscing about old memories and the Murtra brood until Hecate turns towards Queen Nalani.

"Welcome back Queen Nalani," she says with a small smile

Nalani nods in greeting, "hello Hecate, I apologise for Mor and I turning up without any announcement."

Hecate just smiles knowingly, "it is alright, I saw you would turn up here a an hour before you arrived and an before that I saw you and my niece at the Breccia Domain," she finishes, her voice dropping into a more serious tone at the mention of that sacred place.

"I suppose you can never surprise an oracle with an affinity for the future," Nalani replies and Hecate nods.

"The future is my main affinity it's true," Hecate agrees, "but I am also drawn to locations of importance and today I was drawn to the same place you both went to, the Breccia Domain."

Both Nalani and Morrigan tilt their heads in confusion at that and slight worry as they think about the ghost of Elsabet the Mad, who somehow hummed with more power and more intensity than the other queens Nalani saw at Beltane.

"Something happened there," Hecate says, "I can feel it, almost deathlike yet not."

That makes Morrigan's eyes flash with a level of fear as she tries to put the image of the dead queen out of her mind.

"And you Queen Nalani returned to me for answers that you now already know," the oracle remarks, "however I have answers for you that you have yet to even seek."

"What answers?" Nalani says with a fierce determination/curiosity blooming in her eyes.

"Answers about the one who started this cycle," Hecate says, her eyes darkening, "answers about the Goddess."