My Father Ordered His Own Mother's Execution and Forgot My Name—Then the Secret of His Relic Throne Revealed the Terrifying Truth About Our Enclave
My gaze flickered between Abigail’s triumphant face and the ominous iron throne. The air in the relic hall crackled with unspoken venom. The sounds of civil war and outlaw skirmishes faded to a dull throb beyond the heavy doors, as if the world outside held its breath for this confrontation.
Abigail’s eyes never left mine, her smile a chilling invitation. “Yes, Evangeline,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “The throne awaits its true sovereign.”
I took a slow, deliberate step toward the cursed seat. Not to claim it, but to draw her out, to force her to reveal the depths of her depravity. If I was to make the ultimate sacrifice, to even consider touching that metal, I needed to know why.
“You speak of prophecy,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “But you speak like a witch. Tell me, Abigail. Why did you betray Malachi? Why would you destroy the man who loved you, who brought you into his family?”
Abigail threw back her head and laughed, a brittle, joyless sound that echoed off the stone walls. It was the laugh of a woman who had been waiting decades for this moment.
“Love?” she scoffed, stepping away from the throne, her eyes blazing with a vindictive fire. “He stole it all! The Danforth lineage, with their ‘sacred’ authority and their whispered ‘destiny’!”
She gestured wildly at the throne, her face contorting with years of hidden hatred. “That throne, child? It was never meant for the likes of them.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “What are you saying?”
“I forged it!” Abigail shrieked, her voice rising to a fever pitch. “Forty years ago! With the help of Ephraim’s father, who had access to the deep mountain mines. The same toxic ore Gideon discovered. I crafted that cursed seat myself!”
The confession struck me like a physical blow. Forty years ago. Not inherited. Forged. By her.
“My husband,” she spat, venom in her voice, “Malachi’s father. He cast me aside. For a ‘truer’ Danforth bloodline. I saw what they were. Arrogant. Blind to true power.”
Her eyes, wild and manic, swept around the relic hall. “So I gave them a throne worthy of their hubris! A seat that would drain their minds, turn them to shells, one generation after another!”
The truth, raw and horrifying, unfurled before me. This was not about power; it was about vengeance. A meticulously planned, decades-long vendetta against the entire Danforth lineage. She had created the very curse that had ravaged my father, that was tearing Zion’s Rest apart.
“And Malachi,” she continued, her voice full of sadistic glee, “he was the perfect puppet. Slowly decaying, easily manipulated. I was the true hand, guiding the realm, preparing it for its proper ruler.”
She pointed a finger at me, her smile returning, cold and triumphant. “You, Evangeline. The outsider, raised in the wilderness. Untouched by the Danforth arrogance. You were to be my final masterpiece. A mindless queen, controlled by my wisdom.”
The realization twisted my gut. My entire life, my return, my desperate efforts to save the enclave—it had all been part of her elaborate, cruel game. I was nothing more than a pawn in her vindictive scheme. She didn’t want to unite Zion; she wanted to turn it into her absolute fiefdom, ruled through my hollow shell.
“The 800 gold sovereigns Ephraim spoke of,” I said, my voice a strangled whisper. “The mercenaries. You hired them. To murder Malachi.”
Abigail simply smiled, a chilling, unapologetic expression. “A necessary measure. He grew… resistant. And you, my dear, were taking far too long to claim your destiny. The war was needed to clear the path.”
Her confession was complete, chilling in its clarity. There was no misunderstanding left, only the cold, hard truth of a mastermind’s evil.
“I will not let you destroy this enclave,” I declared, stepping fully towards her, my resolve hardening. “You will answer for this.”
Abigail merely laughed, her eyes glinting. “Oh, but I already have.”
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