Blood Before the Crown

The night before her coronation, Azumi Shu dreamt of her father. 

The dream was that of memory, the day her father was crowned as Ginza's King, one of the Four Rulers of Shuyze. Even now, as she gazed at herself in the mirror, she could still see him sitting on the throne, that citrine-encrusted golden crown fused into the bone above his brows. The dried blood that had streamed down his temples mere minutes before. She'd watched on as he'd sworn the oath proudly, watched him uphold his promise to protect the people of Ginza until his end. But still, it had not been enough to save them. 

Azumi prayed every night during the years of the Yōsei invasion to see her parents, to hear their voice one last time. She could imagine how they would have been today. Her mother would have fussed over the layers of the light pink silk she now wore, while her father would have smiled brightly from the corner, sneaking her honey biscuits when mother wasn't looking. Perhaps Azumi would have feigned annoyance as she shrugged on the embroidered shawl, complaining about how her body felt like it was stuffed under thousands of blankets. But it was not her mother next to her. No. An attendant she did not know the name of was dressing her today, cinching in her waist with beaded thread adorned with ornaments of a jade sun and longevity charms. The room was void of her father's laugh and mother's tutting. 

Being dressed in such finery after the war felt worthless to Azumi. It was as if she had been dressed and painted as a doll of her former self to hide the scars the invasion left on her. That old life was behind her. The banquets, her engagement to Ainira's crowned prince, Kita Yuko, and the walls that kept them safe were no more than distant memories, pointless to dwell on. Touching a protective hand to the katana at her side, the pins in her up-do clinking together at the movement, Azumi pulls up her chin, facing the foreign girl in the mirror. While she may have lost everything, she needed to remember her strengths. She had bonded with the spirit of the great Bake-Kujira and had defeated the Yōsei invasion using fire magic. It was she who led the people of Shuyze to victory, and it was today she would take her rightful place as Queen of Ginza, One of the Four. Catching the eye of the attendant girl in the mirror, Azumi gives a soft smile. Her father had once told her, 

"Our people are one with the sun. We must shoulder the burden to rise so the other nations can." it was only now she understood what he'd meant. 

Sandwiched between two guards at her front, two more flanking her back, Azumi cannot help the feeling of encroaching danger as they escort her towards the throne room. She wills her heart to calm, clasping her fingers together. After the invasion, they had replaced the palace's hardwood floors with embroidered carpet, yet Azumi could still see the bloodstains lingering underneath. Pressing her lips into a straight line, she wills herself to put one foot in front of the other. 

'These times to come would be ones of peace', she tells herself silently, promises herself. 'You need not hold fear.'. Swallowing thickly, Azumi ducks under the arm of the guard holding the curtain up for her, bundling in her hands in an armful of silk at her sides. The last time she'd been in this room, she had killed the man who had murdered her father. It was not a quick death but a battle between blades and magic. When the fight had ended, she could only sag in relief at the sight of his mutilated body slumped on the very throne she'd been protecting. 

The guards take her hands lightly as she steps onto the dais, releasing her silken dress to sit atop the throne. Steeling every fibre in her body as a mage places the circlet upon her head, the metal cool against her skin. Azumi breathes between parted red lips, her body melting further into the padded throne. It was the same crown her father had worn, crafted from solid gold in the shape of thorns, diverging in the middle to make a blazing sun, a citrine set in its centre. Lifting her eyes, she lets her fingers drape over the arms, tracing the sun symbols set in gemstones. The guards bow as the head mage enters the room. Somehow the way he glides towards Azumi makes her feel a little calmer. Even from a foot away, she can sense the divergence of his magic being channelled into the sceptre he holds.

"Are you ready to start, princess?" Even his words are smooth, the syllables sliding over each other as he speaks, his head bowing to her. 

"Yes." Authority surges in her stomach, hands dropping from the arms of the throne to lace atop each other, just as her mother had taught her. She does not hear the words he gives in response but feels the crown's weight as it slithers tight around her brows. 

'This isn't bad.' Azumi thinks to herself. 'I've been through worse.'. 

The strands of gold continue weaving, pulling tighter and tighter. Relief shutters through her body as they finally give, the crown steady, but then the fusing starts.

For a moment, Azumi sees nothing before her body gives out, falling forwards on her throne, white-hot pain lacing through her face, her skull. Her limbs tremor as the thorns burrow themselves into her very skull. Biting her lip to keep her from crying out, Azumi wills herself to endure. Deeper and deeper, they go, blood smearing with her makeup, staining her silk dress. We must shoulder the burden to rise so the other nations can. Hurling in every fibre in her body, she forces her back straight, schooling her pain-ridden features into a soft smile. She would be a kind queen, a diligent queen worthy of her title. She was trained for this and would become this. Azumi forces herself to meet every eye in the room, both mage and attendings alike, ignoring the slick feeling of blood and the metallic tang filling her nostrils. And how all too familiar it felt. She swallows the bile rising in her throat as the head mage steps forward. 

"It is done."

She did not remember standing or being ushered out of the room. But when the doors open, all she sees is the swarming crowd she had fought so desperately to save. A calmness flows into her veins as she steps into the courtyard, illuminated by the fires lit around the pavilion.

"All stand and hail the Queen of Ginza, One of Four rulers of Shuyze. Queen Azumi Shu." The crowd erupts with joy, Azumi's heart beaming at the sight of her friends mixed into the crowd with beaming smiles, of Kita standing amidst guards bowing on the long staircase. With gleeful tears welling in her eyes, she waves her hand and lights up the sky with the same magic that had won back her home. 

'It had been worth it', she thinks as the cheers grow louder. 'Everything had been worth it.' 

She takes another step forward, standing on the edge of the stairs leading into the crowd. 

"People of Ginza." Her voice booms across the pavilion, the crowd hushing immediately, heads falling into a bow. She pushes her back straighter, raising her chin as she clasps her hands in front of her. "I am Queen Azumi Shu, daughter of Wang Shu, ruler of Ginza and protector of Shuyze." 

Azumi steps forward, unsheathing the etched golden katana from her left hip. The blade tells the story of the four founders of Shuyze. She raises it in the air just as they had, the oath on her tongue. 

"I swear fealty to protect the people, to light the path ahead in the darkness, to bleed for the people, and to take the burden of the crown." 

The crowd is silent, waiting for her to continue. Yet, Azumi lets her hands drop to her sides, katana remaining unsheathed, watching, waiting. Whispers echo around her, but she does not waver, not even as the screams of a young woman reverberate into the night sky. The guards drop a woman in front of her, her body in full view of the crowd. She struggles against the binds of magic at her wrists and ankles, her light blue dress flailing as the breeze picks up. A loud yell cuts through the crowd's commotion, Kita springing forward, flanked by dozens of guards, as he ploughs up the steps. But he is quickly caught, the guards slamming him onto his knees, holding down his limbs as magical binds slither around him. He wreaths around in their grip. 

"You will show respect to the Queen, Prince Kita."

Azumi raises her chin, looking into the crowd, gauging their reaction. Kita thrashes, eyebrows furrowing as she meets his eyes. 

"Before you," Azumi announces, placing her hands behind her back as she paces in front of the girl, the katana weighted in her hand, "is a traitor." 

Hushed gasps fill the square, those at the back scrambling to catch a glimpse. 

"This girl," Azumi continues, dominant hand sweeping the edge of her blade gently on the concrete, "attempted to steal the crown before my coronation, a crime punishable by death." 

A hushed whimper escapes the captive, muffled by her silk gag. The crowd goes still, some craning forward to watch eagerly, others covering children's eyes. Azumi narrows her eyes into slits.

"I will not accept traitors of Ginza. I will not be merciful to those bringing death upon themselves. This is my oath."

She steps into a fighting stance, left foot in front of her right, katana raised high above her target, hands tight as she channels her magic into the handle. 

"You will die for your actions." Azumi spits, letting the blade swing through the night, releasing the bolt of sun fire into the traitor.

The woman sags forward, her blood pooling on the concrete, black in the moonlight, gurgling over short rasping breaths, bleeding out. She crumples onto the concrete, eerily still, dead.

Giving the body a once over, Azumi sheaths the blade, long succumbing to the act of killing someone. It had been 'kill or be killed' during the war, forced to endure the slickness of blood on her hands, face, and clothing. Even now, that still rings true. Giving the guards a curt nod, Azumi watches as they release Kita from their hold, his bindings remaining as he drops to his knees, mouth open in a silent scream. Her lips twitch upwards at the sight. After all, she had killed his newlywed wife. 

Abandoning the scene in front of her, Azumi steps down the long staircase; slowly, regally. Her heels on the concrete are the only sound heard through the pavilion as she nears Kita. He does not look at her, even when she comes to stand before him. Good. 

"Kita." She speaks his name, the syllables smooth on her tongue. When he does not move, she leans down to grip his chin, red nails digging into the skin, forcing his eyes to her. They burn into her, red-rimmed and steeled with hate. Her heart revels at the sight of it. 

"You will swear loyalty to me and no one else. You once pledged your life to mine; you will do so again or face the consequences." She demands, eyes slipping over to the sight of his crumpled wife. Kita's features twist as he spits in her face, struggling against the binds. The guard behind him shoves a knee into his back with a curse, throwing his body harder into the concrete. Azumi shakes her head, halting their actions. The crown feels tight on her, its thorns digging into her skin. Grinding her teeth, she stands straighter now, wiping a silken sleeve over her face. 

"Alright then, Kita." She addresses him like an old friend, giving a tight smile. "We will do this the hard way." 

Pulling her hand back from him, Azumi upturns her palm, drawing across it with a pointed fingernail, piercing the skin in a thin line that wells with blood. Her magic churns inside her, rushing through her veins. She feels electric at the feeling, alive with power! Kita wreaths in haste, unable to snap the binds holding him. Azumi gives him a sweet smile, gesturing to the guard once more to present his hand to her. 

"Please," His voice is barely above a whisper. "Please don't do this." 

Silent, she takes his upturned palm, running a finger over the heartline, blood spilling out into the crevasses of his palm. Even in the tiny stream of blood, she can feel the essence of his water magic hanging in the air. The ripple of it takes her back to the times he would heal her injuries with gentle fingers. 

The layers of her silken dress cushion her knees as she kneels before him. He shutters, physically shutters, at her closeness. Unable to hide her delight, Azumi holds her slashed palm beside his. 

"You once willed me to use my blood manipulation magic to reclaim our home. And now, I will use it again." 

Without warning, she forces their hands together, commanding her blood into his, willing it to entangle with his bloodstream. Kita lets out a bloodcurdling scream, his body shaking as he attempts to wrench his hand out of hers, glued together by an invisible force. The essence of his water magic barrels through her veins, calm against her fire. She imagines how it must feel on his end with her solar magic, burning down his blood, scorching every inch of his body. She is the sun, and he the moon. Laughter bubbles over her lips, a memory of the words he'd pledged to her surfacing;  

"You are the sun, and I am the moon. I will be your night so you may rest, and you will be my light so I may walk." 

Azumi can't stop the laughter, shoulders shaking as she throws her head back, howling. 

"You are my moon," she croons at Kita, red lips sharp in a smile. "You will obey your Queen. After all, you fought so hard to put me here.". 

The blood between their hands no longer feels warm. The ritual is complete. Queen Azumi Shu stands, unfazed by the blood, as she lowers her hands to her sides, crimson staining the pink silk. She turns to the silent crowd, features upturning as she sees the disgust on the people of Ginza, their fear reeking across the pavilion. The sun breaks over the horizon, the blood bond surging throughout her; fierce, powerful. Azumi raises her chin, a wicked smile twisting her features. 

"Kneel before your Queen."