A Historic Grudge
“I would say it is wonderful to see you again, Nadja Maharat, but considering the last time you were here you nigh drowned my kingdom in its own blood, excuse me if I withhold the sentiment.” Ariana was not a woman to be underestimated in any sense of the word, and as Sukufan’s fifth empress since Yakini’s passing into the next life, she upheld the stringent laws of her empire with a draconian fist, crushing all opposition for the sake of preserving the totalitarian tranquility of Sukufan. Nadja stood like a wraith born of shadows and living pieces of the night sky, a desert-born nightmare wrapped in black garments that belied every piece of steel Ariana had seen her wield in the past. One could never be sure whether Nadja’s hands were reaching for a blade or somewhat else. Her grandmother, Greyoko, had never underestimated Nadja, and Ariana would not make the same mistake. Nadja’s eyes seemed to swallow the light of the room, considering Ariana’s brilliant green with a gravity better suited to the furious dead than a living legend.
“Your Majesty, High Empress Ariana Matsuri of Sukufan,” the serpentine woman said smoothly, a spill of warm honey in the room that made Ariana’s lip curl in disgust as some of the male courtiers shifted uncomfortably on their feet. Even here, amongst other worldly beings far more powerful than she, she was fearless, and her presence alone was one to be reckoned with. Nadja inclined her chin before kneeling respectfully before the sovereign ruler of the entire empire, a dimension unto itself, existing parallel with the one Nadja had hailed from. “I am sorry if my presence in the kingdom gives you cause to be troubled, but I am not here on a mission of detriment.” Ariana’s bejeweled fist tightened on her golden scepter, lily knuckles turning sickly white from the tension. There were no lines in her youthful face, nothing save the pale tension around the corners of her mouth to give away her sudden fury.
“How
dare you.” She hissed. “How dare you come here after all you’ve done and expect us—expect
me—to believe that you have found a heart and conscience. You are but an empty shell to be used. A weapon of the heathen gods of your world to cleave the lives of the innocent in twain. You are not here on a vacation,
Viperinae, and it would serve both you and me a great deal of stress, heartache, and
bloodshed if you refrained from
lying about it.” Nadja took every word like Heracles took a blow from a lesser foe. While the Nubian knew Ariana was right, it did not quell the amused smirk on her face.
“Stop being melodramatic.” Nadja said and Ariana drew back, blinking as if more confused that Nadja would retaliate openly than admit to her crimes. “You think because you have studied Sukufan historical records of my grievous crimes and heard fireside tales told by superstitious veterans who fought in the wars I inevitably sparked in my wake, that you’ve a grip on who and what I am, truly. You are foolish to think that history and superstitions ever give you the full picture of what it is you face.” When Ariana’s main guards stepped forward, swords half-drawn, Ariana held up her hand, wanting to hear what Nadja could possibly say to convince everyone that she had changed for the better.
“Would that I had control of an entire dimension. Would that I could bend the will of the innocent to my whim—
at a whim. While you judge me for my past, one which during that time your grandmother was but a
fledgling teenager; I judge you by your present, and if you mean to turn every visitor to your empire away based on past misgivings alone, then shall I rattle out the list of your own shortcomings, Your Majesty?” Ariana drew back, her face blanched of all color, green eyes wide with shock, the scepter trembling in her hand as she shook from both fury and hurt. Nadja had struck several nerves in retaliation. For a moment, both empress and former menace looked upon one another in strained silence, a length of wire drawn taut between the two, and the courtiers but a blurred backdrop to their silent consternation. It was Ariana who looked away first, a sharp hiss of irritation signifying that she had seen reason. It was a moment before the steel of resolve straightened her delicate back and she looked up, her head weighed down by the heavy, ornate crown atop her shimmering blue hair, yet still held erect with all the pride befitting a monarch.
“Very well, Nadja Maharat, you may plead your case to me.” She said at length and the smile that Nadja gave her was as slick as it was ambiguous.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” It would not have been the first time Nadja had pleaded her case to a ruling monarch for leniency, though it was the first kingdom she’d done harm to and pleaded for pardon of her past crimes. For her, her war on Sukufan had been but a handful of years prior. For Sukufan, it was already recorded in the pages of history, a bloody bookmark in the tomes, where the old ones of Sukufan still recalled bloody pieces of the tapestry. A war started based on a lie. Empress Yakini had perished in that battle, and with her eldest daughter, Ansequia, missing and presumed dead, the weight of the crown fell to young Greyoko. With the dust settled and the traitors and usurpers imprisoned or executed, Greyoko took to the role of empress with a maturity none would expect. The war had hardened the last of her soft innocence, had stripped away the remaining color of her childhood. Nadja had retreated from Sukufan justice, escaping their prison with the aid of a seduced warden, and leaving their dimension entirely. All of this, Ariana had read in text books, had her debated by philosophers in the universities. Unlike her predecessors, and other children of the nobility, Ariana was fiercely patriotic, and could cite innumerable sources to back her cause. She upheld the laws of Sukufan, even unto herself, and let no good deed go unnoticed, nor any bad deed unpunished. Sukufan had prospered immensely under her rule, and it had been her mother, Elleniqui, that had sealed off the tear that led to the Shadow Realm, from whence a star-crossed love between Yakini and Prince Shango Urashima had nearly torn the kingdom asunder in civil unrest. Ariana did not approve of that part of her history, but it was her history and she accepted it all the same; even the parts of which she was the least proud.
So imagine how uncharacteristic of her it may have been when a Sukufan war criminal returned pleading clemency. Ariana was furious, but Nadja was a historical figure—one of the few outsiders of Sukufan that still yet lived. It would be hypocritical of her to not allow the woman, regardless of her level of guilt, to make a case.
“As you know, I am partially responsible for the iconic war that nearly destroyed your nation.” Ariana leaned forward, one hand gripping her scepter, the other gripping the golden arm of the chair as she narrowed her eyes.
“
Partially?” Came the acidic retort and Nadja rolled her eyes.
“Alright. I am
fully responsible for the iconic war that ravaged this empire and till this day continues to affect the lives of its citizens. However, while that was a handful of years ago for me, this war was well before your time, and as you know, history is only penned by the winning side,” At the murmurs from the surrounding court, Nadja knew that dissention was inevitable. “Thus, there is no way you could ever understand that there are two sides to every story—even one as violent as this one. I do not ask for pardon from Sukufan justice, as any punishment I receive is likely well-deserved and even more earned.” Nadja held up her hands. “I have merely come seeking your aid in a matter of the utmost import, as you and I have a common enemy.” Ariana did not understand, and it showed in the slight cant of her head and the narrowing of her eyes as the tension around her mouth increased in perplexity. Nadja let out a sigh, and in it was the sound of defeat.
“Your enemies, the Shadow Dwellers, have taken something precious to me, something that I can not live without. I have never been one to plead for help when I felt it was not needed but these are creatures with which I have had scant dealings, and know precious little about. Even when I contested them, my prowess was not enough to defeat even one of their kind.” Nadja pulled open her vest, revealing the deep gashes that ran along the cage of her ribs, beneath her breasts, and came dangerously close to gutting her open; they had begin to heal over the last few weeks. A collective gasp was drawn in by the court, followed by a sudden rise in murmuring with the words “criminal” and “serves her right” being chief amongst them. Nadja ignored the court, for it was ultimately Ariana’s decision as to whether or not she would receive aid in this mission. Ariana looked upon the gashes intently, and Nadja began to button up her vest once more.
“You know what did this, then.” Ariana looked up sharply, her chin planted on her fist.
“I know what
might have done it, Nadja Maharat,” she said coolly, “but that is not enough to corroborate your story. What is it they have taken that has you pleading to former enemies and victims for help? A sword? A magical talisman, perhaps? Certainly nothing of true import as you are in one piece, for the most part.” There was amused laughter from the surrounding nobles and Ariana smiled like a satisfied feline, content with embarrassing the woman who had been her sworn enemy by history alone. Nadja’s jaw tightened.
“Would that it was only a body part they had taken. But no, Your Majesty, it is far worse.” The empress raised a bored brow, skeptical unto the last.
“They took my son.”
Marked for Death
“I can not express my gratitude enough for having you come here on such short notice, Lady Maharat. I wanted to speak to you in private about a troubling matter. I’ll have wine brought to my chambers immediately.” The king had taken a liking to the strange ambassador who, while not a citizen the Arago Empire herself, had been sharp of mind in negotiations of a treaty to end the long-standing feud between the kingdoms. She was conversational, with dark hair and dark eyes, and a hint of
wild that seemed otherwise reined in check by the stiff corsets and frilly hairstyles she donned for the sake of society. As for his inquest to wine and cheese, she enamored him a smile.
“Of course, your majesty. I am certain that you would not mind if I hold off on my own wine. Strong drink does seem to hinder my negotiation skills.” The smile was like sugared poison, sweet enough to mask the bitterness that moved in her dark eyes, yet dulled enough to look sincere. The Emperor of Arago had chosen her specifically for the task of negotiating with the pale-skinned citizens of Dunham across the sea, and she had taken to the task without complaint or question. Adjusting in her chair, she watched as the servant brought two goblets and filled them with wine.
“Nonsense, my lady. The negotiations are almost finished and I wouldn’t trust another woman with such a task. You are not like the empty-headed pieces of fluff in court.” She could only smile, glancing around the king’s private parlor with a sense of detachment that had become the norm in later years. The chamber was windowless, claustrophobic and cluttered with the garish wealth royalty was prone to surround themselves with. Nadja took whatever breath she could in the corset and raised her goblet, acquiescing to the king’s insistence that she drink.
“To peace.” He murmured, and Nadja smiled from across the table.
“To peace,” she echoed coolly watching as the king wasted no time in downing his own drink and Nadja merely touched her lips to the rim of her bejeweled goblet. There was a moment of silence as the king laughed, his fat jowls quivering with the hope of a more prosperous future for his people. It was only when Nadja’s beautiful face began to seem hazy, and the sharp pain in his limbs turned his blood to liquid fire, did he realize why Arago had sent this dark-skinned envoy as opposed to one of their own. Nadja sipped her wine calmly while the king’s throat closed and he choked and sputtered for air. As she waited for him to die, she stood.
“Something has troubled me since my arrival.” She calmly stepped aside as the king toppled from his chair, clutching feebly at his throat, his face going from red to purple as his limbs began to fail him. Nadja was near a chest of drawers on the other side of the room now, running her fingers over the cherry wood as she continued to speak, marveling at the lengths royalty would go for want of their own luxury.
“Not once, since I have been here, did you ever ask why Arago sent a foreigner to speak in his stead. Did this ever lead you to wonder?” Nadja’s face was a mask of cool indifference as she watched the king’s flailing movements die away, writhing in agony from the
eto poison. It was as swift and deadly as the snake whose name she had been given as a moniker.
“Arago knows your taste for women run the gamut from light to dark.” Nadja sipped her wine again and as she raised her goblet to toast him, his final sight was her smile. He went still, his face pallid, his mouth locked in a terrified gasp for air that would not come. Nadja leaned against the chest of drawers, nursing the last of her wine before taking one last look around the room before she absently spoke again.
“More wine, your majesty?”
This site is entirely fictional, and is run by me (the player). Any and all information you ever needed to know about Nadja Saa'iqa Maharat is explained in detail on this site and in her journal; the latter link which is only provided upon request. She was originally created for the purposes of the Calracian Republic Storyline, in 2003, and every aspect of her character has been influenced by various sources, from the TV show Xena: Warrior Princess to the legend of the Candaces of Nubia, to Ameena of Zaria, and steeped in various African cultures both East and West. Her history has been played out with many talented players for the past six years, so a lot of work has gone into this character. So at least find the time to read about her.
This site was coded from top to bottom by yours truly. I don't know how to navigate the clusterfuck that is Adobe Dreamweaver, so my coding is done by hand for the most part. Most if not all the icons (animated or otherwise) were designed by me as well. My lovely webhost is Freewebs, of course, and all characters that are not of my creation are credited to the players that my characters have interacted with. Models are nameless, but I'm crediting them as well. Music from my splash pages fluctuate, but the tracks are uniquely my own so hands off!