There were two seats in the room.
Mine, and Luna’s.
Hers, was of course, a throne. It was nothing like I would have expected for one, honestly, but it was clear that was what it was because she sat on it. It, like her crown, was a carving of black stone with dark green bits that sparkled like jewels or stars, they barely appeared to be more than carvings in the masonry atop her head. The back of her chair rose up and over her, a towering rectangular obelisk of the same stuff that commanded this void of a royal chamber and distracted me with its pattern of little green cuts.
I sat on a stone. I was bound to it, but I couldn’t tell what it was. There wasn’t any rope or electrocoil keeping me there. I just couldn’t get up. It was a kind of mottled, featureless tan, something that looked dusty and hollow but when I tried to move, my attention was pulled right back up to her. Despite this, I couldn’t help but look around her, around that eerie throne. There was a need for acknowledgment, a need for audience in her force.
We’d been sitting here for an amount of time only she really knew while this drunken feeling melted off of me. I looked at her and I wondered if it had been hours or days or if anything was anything before this moment. The room was big, and wide, felt cold and dank and pretty hospitable for what I was expecting here. I couldn’t make out the borders that drew her face, but she knew what I had been placed here for. I had a feeling it was my turn to find out why. The frothing black mist rolled off her thick, like it was coming out of a smoke machine.
The Princess of the Moon took all the time in the world to get out of that big stone chair. I’d have shit myself if I could but I was instructed internally by a force of calm to hush, to just watch, and I did. It was easier to look at her as she got closer, and it was easier to understand she was moving.
A black sheet seemed to envelop her, and I noticed that all the nothing and darkness around me seemed to still have form, as she did, while drawing closer. It was as if her domain could exert a presence over even nothing.
The square pillars that rose into a bottomless pit above the hard angles surrounded me. Princess Luna’s throne seemed to become a speck by the time the pillars went on to form an endless corridor. Her face drew in, not close. I looked for a moment, wrenching my fingers against my will into fists. I thought I was resisting successfully. Three eyes came to meet mine and stared hard like a halogen lamp during a hangover. What kind of shape came to form around Luna gave her the same shadowy visibility that her accoutrement prescribed, obfuscating a clearly feminine form, one that was kin to the T’yd or the Humans. It was much more organic than that, a type of driving force behind the moving pillar magic and the hall of empty light I was tied like a hostage in. I couldn’t help but look, tugging my skull by the root of my neck trying to turn even my eyes away, maybe move my wrists or even one leg.
Have you ever tried to remember something, but you had to remember to forget it?
I felt the Princess’ hands on mine.