Chapter Text
Crown Princess Sonia Nevermind knew she was at a great disadvantage this Centennial. She was the second youngest ruler, but that wasn’t the issue. The people of Wildling loved their ruler and truly believed she would win the Centennial and break the Curse, despite no other ruler having accomplished that feat over the last five hundred years.
What they didn’t know was that Sonia had no powers, no magic. Every human in their world could use magic, even the sickliest of children, but not Sonia. The only people who knew were her guardians, keeping her locked up in the Wilding palace, but even they still believed she could win the Centennial. With a lifetime of training in fighting, sleight of hand, and charm, no one would ever be the wiser.
That is if Sonia followed their plan. But she didn’t want to rely on every harmful stereotype people had of Wildings, the nation of seductresses, whores, heart eaters. If the curse was broken, then at least one of those things wouldn’t have to be true anymore, and then her people could be accepted by the others and treated with respect, not revulsion and fear.
All of these thoughts and emotions were swirling inside her like the swirling colors of the portal to Lightlark, the island on which the Centennial was held. For one hundred days, every one hundred years, the churning, magical storm that surrounded the island disappeared, allowing the portals to work, and each of the rulers would step through to take part in the deadly game. Sonia stepped through the gate, the familiar-but-not-quite feeling of her stomach lurching as she traveled a great span of space in merely an instant. It was the signal that she had to start her plan, to save Wildling, to save her only friend, to save herself.
And it, and every other thought within her, vanished in an instant when she saw the person on the other side.
“Do…I know you?” It was a simple question. It was preposterous. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the wicked aura emanating from the man, she knew exactly what he was. A Nightshade, the only people more hated than Wildlings. And he could only be one person, one she’d heard whispered in tales to scare children.
“Do you?” His voice was deep, the terrifying warmth of a moonless summer’s night, where monsters lurked, awaiting for you to make your final misstep.
Of course I don’t, Sonia thought. But perhaps she had met him, in another time, another life, one where they weren’t destined to be players in a game where someone had to die. “But do you know who I am?” she asked, trying to turn this around.
The man just smirked. “Do you think me a fool? You are Sonia Nevermind, ruler of Wildling.” Then he took a step forward, took her hand and kissed it, that predatory grin still on his face. “You are the first Wildling I’ve ever met. Are the rumors true?”
“You don’t know even half of what my people can do,” she said, pulling her hand back, trying to ignore the heat from where they touched. “Is everything they say about your people true as well, Gundham Tanaka?”
“You do not know even a quarter of the powers of Nightshade,” he replied. “But I can see you’re already working your foul magic on me.”
“I’m not—”
Before he could explain himself, another portal opened, and Gundham turned to leave.