Helena's blue eyes fluttered shut as she felt Anselm's lips touch her forehead. She leaned into him slightly before he pulled away. How she loved her husband and seeing him so troubled bothered her. The very thought that this elusive Vishnu was out there in the wastes traipsing about as if he were some sort of god made her blood boil. If only there was a way they could get their hands on better technology, something to rival that of this Vishnu...
Perhaps there were ways. Though she knew her husband probably wouldn't approve of it. However, if it meant the security of his people, his life...maybe he'd reconsider.
She'd make him reconsider.
After all, Anselm was no longer the naïve man he was back when he'd first started to rule. He'd learned that sometimes you had to do things, questionable things, to ensure the betterment of the many... Helena's thoughts were starting to run wile as she gave Anselm a low curtsy, her blue eyes looking up at him as she slowly rose back up to full height.
"I will see you later this evening, my love," Helena promised, her cheeks tingeing pink against her ghostly white pallor. She took a few steps backward, her eyes reluctantly leaving his before she turned on her heels and exited, gown swishing about her body with each and every step.
Once out in the semi-lit halls of the palace, Helena's pace quickened. She looked down at her hands, shaking almost uncontrollably. Dust. She needed more. Now. She placed a hand against her forehead, damp with sweat. Looking at her fingertips, she could see the little droplets lingering on them. Her nose crinkled at the sight, her steps becoming faster. Just then there was a rush of shadow.
"Who's there?" Helena whispered harshly at nothing...just a trick of the light. Ugh, she needed to hurry! Her mind being cruel, begging for her to get what she craved, what she needed. She raced down a set of stone steps, the way narrower than most and well hidden among the enormity of the structure. Her steps light, she darted down the staircase, the air getting colder and colder the further she went.
It was as if Helena were plunging into the depths of Hell. Darkness engulfed her angelic body, ethereal in her gauzy dress, shimmering hair flowing over slender shoulders. Her mind was a cacophony of images. She saw blood and death and shadow as they swirled, trying to consume and revel in joyous delight. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she made it into the bowels of the palace, into a hidden area. Few knew of its existence. It was her getaway, a place of refuge when nowhere else could satisfy.
The torch was lit and the mark was left on the door. Helena would get to her door, her sanctuary. She thrust her body against the heavy wood, delicate hands pulling on wrought iron. Shadows laughed as she struggled with the door as it creaked, mocking at her while it tried to stay put, not giving way.
"Damn you!" Helena shouted.
Suddenly the door opened, a gust of cold air caressing her pale skin. She shivered and entered the dark room, closing the door behind her. Leaning against the heavy door, she let herself fall to the floor, sobs shaking her body as her mind went numb.
"Shh..." whispered a voice. "It's ready."
Helena sat up and brushed away her tears. Slowly, her blue eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room. She could barely make out the silhouette in the far corner, but she could feel his eyes watching her. They always watched her when she got like this.
"Give it to me," Helena demanded, raising her head up high.
"Tsk tsk, that's no way to ask," the voice hissed.
Helena cringed. "I'm not asking," she stated through clenched teeth. "As your queen, I'm ordering you."
"And as your apothecary..."
Helena scrambled toward the apothecary and held her knife up to his throat. He was a small man, old but crafty. And...
He could formulate Wraith Dust.
"You will give me what I ask because I've commanded it," Helena rasped, the knife barely nicking the elderly man's flesh. She could feel him swallowing against her blade, though he made no move to struggle.
"And if you kill me, you'll have no one to make Dust for you," he said plainly. There was a pause, the air thick with tension as Helena's hand shook, her anger fierce while her emotions ran raw with realization. "Anselm will know if you stop. The people will know." The apothecary smiled. Helena could feel it, sense it. "Everyone will."
Helena shoved the old man away. "Please, may I have it?" she asked, her free hand balled up into a tight fist. Her nails dug into her palm.
"Much better, my dear." The old man grinned, his rotted teeth black against his pale skin, which started to come into focus the longer Helena remained in the dark. He moved to get a sack that had been resting near where he'd been initially sitting. He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows and pulled out a pouch.
Helena's eyes widened, her mouth salivating, longing to taste, to experience...
"Anselm will find out," the apothecary mumbled. "And when he does, it will not be my head that rolls."
Helena sneered. "No, it'll be Rickertt's. He's the one who collects what's needed," she said with bold confidence.
The apothecary just nodded and smiled. He walked toward Helena and gently held the pouch out for her to take. She went to grab it, but he moved his hand, holding it just out of her reach. "Always so quick to take, aren't we?" he reminded, a hand moving to grab her breast.
Helena moved quickly, her knife pointing down, the blade held against the apothecary's groin. "Know your place."
The apothecary grinned, the pouch dropping into Helena's hand. He gave her breast a squeeze before letting go. "You cannot blame a man for trying?" he chuckled.
Helena grabbed the pouch away from the apothecary's grasp and kicked him away. "Get out. Get out before I call the guards."
The apothecary bowed and quickly left, removing his mark from the door as he did so. It was always this way. Each and every time. But it was worth the banter to get what she wanted. In the end, she always did. Eyeing the pouch, Helena locked the door and sat down on the floor. Slowly, carefully, she opened the pouch and dipped a fingertip into the powdery contents inside it. The feel of it made her body warm, her insides melt. Already, it was working its magic. She removed her finger, gleaming with the powder as it beckoned her. Without further hesitation, she stuck her finger in her mouth, eyes closing as she let out a groan of pleasure.
The taste was miraculous. She'd gone far too long. If only Anselm would join her in this ecstasy! He was missing out...the wondrous adventures they could share! Again, she dipped her finger into the pouch and took another taste. The flavor danced on her tongue and dripped down her throat, bringing her to heaven as the shadows receded and color began to swirl. Vibrant hues enshrouding her, swallowing her up as she let herself become lost in the wonders of Dust. Her body was on fire, her soul singing, every nerve was alive!
"Just one more..." Helena whispered as she allowed herself one more taste before closing the pouch and hiding it away. She danced in her room, the shadows gone, her dress billowing about her small frame. Each swish of fabric set her senses alight, causing shivers of pleasure to course over her again and again and again. This was ecstasy! This was Dust! She'd worry about Vishnu...later.
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