Born In Blood

Your gaze strays from the 6'4", 15-year-old, heavily pregnant Roshanda to the pool of dark, rich blood spreading outward from Mexi's corpse. "It's so red..." you whisper. "Just like those... butterflies... so... so long ago..."

"Tch! Man, you crazy, sistah," Roshanda says, taking a cautious step toward you. "Why doncha just put down the shank and we kin talk, awight? Aint no need fo' no mo' bloodshed today, ya hear me?"

"Nooooo!!" you shriek hysterically. "Stay away from me!! Mommy!! Aaeeeyaaaaargh!!!"

And now, Dear Reader, I must make the difficult decision of temporarily pausing our story, and outlining several very important past Events which greatly affect the outcomes of the present - and without the edification of which your comprehension and enjoyment of this Saga would be unfortunately impaired. I assure you it will not take too long, and we will soon rejoin Miss Roshanda and the nameless Heroine in the midst of their fateful confrontation. But for now, let us travel across the Boundaries of time and space to the Sirius star system, where the fate of a Galactic Empire hangs in the balance by a single thread...

The palace square was thronged by the rabble - Larzagrodes in their yellow jackets, garishly painted, heavily armed Thehobothites, Mansers, even Excoriotes wearing only the spiked cages that were the mark of their station. It was a sweltering-hot day, and a line of Stillmen separated the crowd from the Platform of Crimson Ceremony, from which the Empress' agonized screams could be heard.

"Push, Empress!" commanded Zegai the Midhusband, kneeling before her bare, outstretched legs. "I can almost see the head... push!!"

"Kyaaaaa!!" the Empress cried. "This is Hell! What sort of spawn of darkness could it be, this little beast! Get it out of me! Hurry!"

Please oh please, let it be a girl, thought Anyalita the Handmaid. Further down the platform she could see him - Chaz the Imperial Consort, kneeling bound and naked before the crowd. If the child firstborn to the Empress was a girl, he would be clothed in robes of gleaming silk and paraded through the streets in glory. But if it was a useless, brainless male, Chaz would be beheaded, and his body thrown to the rabble, to be defiled as they wished.

"Here it comes!" Zegai growled. "Just a little longer, Empress! Push!!"

"Kyaaaaaoowaaaowwwaaaah!!!" the Empress screamed, and then there was a juicy squelch, a plop, and it was over. Zegai held the squalling newborn babe aloft. "It is done!!" he roared, his mighty voice carrying across the square. "A girl-child is born, an Heir to the Empire!! Rejoice!!!"

Anyalita closed her eyes as the jubilant screams of the crowd momentarily drowned all other sounds. Chaz was safe. He could never be hers - just as she had always known - but at least he would live, and that was all that mattered.

"Blessings!" she heard Selruna the Handmaid say beside her. "What a glad day!!"

"Not as much as you think," Lashkia the Bodyguard chimed in. "You know this complicates our Empress' relationship with the Kleshrak fiefdoms. Lady Marzakis had been pushing for decades to install one of her sons as Consort."

"Pfft! One of those fat, ugly Kleshraki men - no wonder the Empress prefers Chaz, even if he is from a poorer House," Selruna said.

"True. But tensions between the Throne and Kleshrak is not what the Empire needs right now."

"Who cares! We have an heir! And now, seven days straight of feasting, orgies and gladiator games!"

"Is that all you ever think about, Selruna? Anyway... look! The Empress arises!"

Suddenly there was a terrified scream, and Anyalita opened her eyes. The Empress was indeed standing up - but something was wrong. A pool of dark- red blood was forming around her feet. She whispered something, took a step toward her newborn daughter - and then she was falling.

There were more screams then, a lot more. Zegai knelt by the Empress' side. When he stood, there were tears in his eyes. "The Empress is dead!" he roared. "Our light has gone out. We have failed... failed!! Begin the Night of Purification!!"

"N-no! How can this be happening?!" Selruna sobbed. Lashkia, laser sword drawn, was already sprinting toward Zegai. In the square below, the Stillmen had begun slaughtering the rabble, and the air was filled with a cacophony of screaming, crying, and roars of pain, anger and terror. Anyalita jumped up, desperately looking around for Chaz - and she saw him, clad in his silk robes, kneeling with a Stillman's neurowhip coiled around his neck.

1. Anyalita runs to help Chaz.
2. Anyalita runs for her life.
3. Anyalita passes out.

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