Archive of Our Own

Strange Birds

***

The parade, as always, bored her. It wasn’t the spectacle or gaiety that incited this apathy; She was an aesthete, a lover of beauty, and treasured the delicate, bright-towered jewel-box that was Sun Do’s majestic Seafront. Nor was it spurred by the large throng of revelers; Though she wasn’t particularly fond of the dizzying crowds, how could she dislike Outworlders of all stripes, primarily Edenians, congregating and engaging in conviviality, alcohol-fueled merriment, and culturally-sanctioned debauchery? No, it was the fact that she had to abstain from all of it. At times, this compulsory asceticism made her feel like a Priestess of Delia. “Princesses don’t lower themselves to base impulses”, as her mother reminded her endlessly throughout her youth and adolescence; but rules could always be bent, right? Sometimes even broken? She was a creature of deep passion, feeling, and empathy, but she was born into a privileged life that paradoxically demanded stoicism and emotional aloofness. A bright red Fu Lion burst in the night sky above her, and she was afforded a fleeting glimpse of an amorous young couple on the edge of the parade jump off a pyramidic carnival float, hand-in-hand, and slink into the quiet darkness of Sun Do’s utopic shoreline. She let out a sigh. It was an unhurried sound of longing. Slow like steam rising from Edenia’s coastal baths, like snowfall in the Northern Reach, or like a needle in a vein. Lucid, prudent Mileena was now absent. Lost in a daze of desire, she hopelessly imagined tracing the slender jawline of her own clandestine beloved, getting her fingers tangled in the hoops of that impossible hair, and pressing her lips against... Minutes passed, and Mileena continued to dream. And she gazed at that face in her wild imagination. And bit her lip so as to stifle her sudden, senseless desire to call out to her. Scream her name as loud as she could from the side of the stage she was sitting.

“Are you all right, sister?” The gentle voice prodded her away from the increasingly elaborate fantasy.

“What? Yes, of course.” It was a simple enough reply to speak, but Mileena’s voice clumsily cracked twice as she said it. She wasn’t all right. She was tired. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, and existentially. Surely her sister knew; she saw what she went through that morning…

“Are you sure? You looked like you were…I don’t know…miles away a second ago.” Kitana was now looking directly at her sister with profound solicitude. And that expression always elicited a complicated series of emotions in Mileena. On one level, Kitana was her best friend and closest confidant. Nearly daily, they immersed themselves in warmhearted, often comically absurd, discussions that endured for hours. “What was the best way to nip and tuck a kunoichi garment?” (never tuck downwards, use a hair-tie knot in emergencies for a smoother look), “Could a steel fan really cut hair effectively?” (No. Luckily, their hair grew back quickly.), “What was the most aesthetically-pleasing method to boil tea?” (a clay pot with a larger opening allows the fragrance to escape efficiently), “How long did Kitana think it would take for mother to forgive them for slouching during last month’s royal banquet?” (three days), “Did Mileena actually look better than her sister while wearing blue?” (unresolved). They shared everything. Even earlier in the week, Mileena sneaked into her sister’s room to “borrow” some makeup (the color looked better on her anyway, she reasoned). All this intimacy somehow made Mileena feel even worse. How could she possibly explain what she’d been doing with Tanya, their prime escort and protector? Would Kitana approve? Would she understand?

Mileena lightly squeezed her sister’s hand. “I am fine, Kitana.” This time she managed a slight smile, and that expression always managed to melt the younger twin’s heart and put her at ease. The morning had not been easy for her either…

A clamor of bells resounded in the marketplace; the fireworks ceased, the riotous jabberwock of music stopped, the crowds under the lanternlight were hushed, and Mileena turned her head toward her sister. With an ostentatiously work-wearied tone she simply murmured, “It’s time.” And the two beautifully-dressed twin princesses of Outworld stood up and made their way to the center of the stage. The lavish first-line of the parade was about to begin.

Behind them, Rhiannon, Empress Sindel’s Majordomo appeared from the royal tent. She was dressed in a pretentiously violet patiala salwar with an embroidered silk shawl. The twins exchanged a glance. Through the years, the two of them managed to construct an entire language through raised eyebrows, nose scrunches, and sardonic smirks. This one might have said, “By the gods, I wish mother wasn’t away with her ambassadors in Morasu resolving the ongoing political crisis caused by the demigod’s incursion.” Maybe that was too elaborate a sentiment for what was essentially a double eye-roll…; either way, their irritation was palpable. Rhiannon had a reputation for droning on and on and on when left to her own devices. Kitana readied herself for an intense feeling of vicarious embarrassment.

“Citizens of Sun Do. I am once again in awe at the sublimity of what our glorious people have accomplished.” She took a deep breath and paused for theatrical effect. “I fell in love with this remarkable city the moment I set my eyes on it. The luminous towers, the steeply-sloping tile roofs, the ceramic mosaics, the vibrant open-air markets, the grand galleries, the glass-skylight arcades, the cosmopolitan culture, the white-sand beaches, the blue-crystal waters, the lush, tropical gardens.” She executed a well-rehearsed laugh before continuing. “I really should stop myself. I could babble on for hours about that first day in this intoxicating city. If I don’t stop now, you will all be here deep into the hours of tomorrow. So, let’s talk about something more up-to-date. It has been a whirlwind of a year. A year replete with loss, rebirth, conflict, and closeness. A year of vicissitudes, transcendence, triumph, and even failure.” Kitana uncomfortably cringed at the oblique allusion to last week’s tournament. She had hoped Rhiannon would have omitted any reference. “But we are steadfast in our purpose, and we press on. We know the cost of our ability to choose our destiny, our liberty, our fraternity, and happiness. Praise Argus, we know the price of this Golden Age! But, more markedly, we know the power of our freedom. We, the people of Sun Do, of Outworld, choose liberty and dignity.” Rhiannon dramatically (or melodramatically in Mileena’s estimation) reached her hands up into the air as if she were petitioning the sky. “It is our home and I am again humbled to share it with all of you!” An unharmonious, inebriated applause rang out from the city’s square and Rhiannon beamed. She was clearly soaking in all of this attention. Mileena hated it. The speech was ponderous, superficial, and jejune. It could have been written by a backwoods dirt farmer. Maybe it was? Empress Sindel’s retained speechwriter had accompanied her to Morasu earlier that day. Perhaps Rhiannon had outdone herself this time.

As she continued to prattle on about her “first time witnessing the pageantry of Shiva Ranatai”, “the dazzling festival of a thousand paper lanterns”, and the “indomitable” spirit of Sun Do’s denizens, Mileena let out a quiet groan of frustration and turned her head toward her sister.

“This is asinine”, she whispered, and softly smirked at her amiable, cerulean-clad sister.

“Please don’t try and make me laugh. Mother really took us to task for our flippant bantering during last year’s festival, and I don’t want a repeat of that miserable lecture.”

Mileena translated that sisterly plea the only way an older twin could: as a challenge. “Dear Sister, this entire speech is an exercise in bathos. You can pretend otherwise, but I know you’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking. Besides, if I really wanted to spark some laughter, I’d remind you of the time you nearly sprained your ankle jumping out of bed because you thought the Palace Chef was baking a cream cake.”

Kitana’s facial expression told the entire story. She was desperately trying to smother her laughter. It was not easy.

Mileena continued her whispering, “I was just lounging in the wingback chair in your room, flipping through one of your fantasy romances, when I saw you glide through the air like a bird of paradise from your bed. I was about to yell, ‘Watch out, Kitana, your leg is still tangled in the sheet’, but by then you were already on the floor, tightly gripping your coryphée heel, yelling, ‘Why me!?’”

Kitana was turning bright red (her face nearly matched her sister’s ensemble), and she finally let out a partially muted snort. Just loud enough to draw a modest amount of attention. Rhiannon paused for just a moment before continuing her dreary palaver. Mileena was pleased. Kitana less so. “I am going to literally kill you when the parade is finished”, she whispered to her sister.

“I know you will. But before you murder me, please don’t forget that I helped you up after your hilarious tumble.”

Kitana scoffed as quietly as she could. “You sure did. After you finished tittering like a Kuatan Macaw…”

They were both genuinely smiling now, doing their best to stifle any further laughter, and anxious for the first-line of the parade to begin.

“Shiva Ranatai”, Rhiannon spoke, “is a celebration of the honored dead and a plea to all of us to seek reconciliation and to embrace forgiveness. The riddles we write on our dreamlike, paper lanterns all have the same answer: Grace and Compassion. It is our most sacred holiday. I know we have many travelers present this evening. I’ve had the immense privilege of speaking with pilgrims from Z'Unkahrah, Makeba, and Lung Hai. Please accept our formal salutations. This is as much our celebration as it is yours. We salute you. We love you. And it is time. Let the procession begin!” A burst of fireworks put an exclamation point on that final sentiment. The Majordomo’s speech had mercifully concluded and the first-line of the parade commenced.

Unlike the amateur floats earlier in the evening, the first-line was comprised of crews from artisan guilds. These were amongst the greatest creative virtuosos in all of Outworld, and their elaborate designs reflected that talent. Loud, flamboyant colors, dazzlingly ornate, festooned in remarkable detail, decorated each mammoth float. These artists understood that Shiva Ranatai was as much about camp and spectacle as it was about reconciliation and forgiveness. Mileena felt her excitement rise, before she remembered she was confined to the stage. She had a duty to perform.

Oh, and what a miserable duty it was! The task was simple enough. Smile, wave, and look pretty. For the next two hours or so, the twins would be standing on the edge of the stage, twisting their wrists, and cheering encouragement as the parade-goers passed through the square and out into the central boulevard of Sun Do. It was a tedious affair, but as their mother told them every year since they were children, “a necessary one.” Essential or not, Mileena hated it. She felt like an object. An unthinking, pretty thing. A decoration, not unlike the garlands that wreathed her own magenta dress. Kitana, didn’t like it either, per se, but she could, as usual, mask her feelings of dehumanization with a little more subtlety. This strange ability to mask her feelings engendered a complex sentiment in Mileena. On the one hand, she was insanely jealous of her sister’s adaptability. “How was she able to sublimate her frustrations like this? Her passions? Why doesn’t she feel as intensely as I do?” And, this inevitably led to the unceasing question, “What’s wrong with me?” Contrarily, she also pitied her sister. “Perhaps it wasn’t a ‘mask’ she wore at all. Perhaps Kitana just didn’t understand deep desire…? No. That wasn’t it. Kitana was certainly capable of passion. It was just different.”

Mileena sighed and looked at her sister. She was already waving, smiling, and cheering words of encouragement. “It’s me”, she thought. “I’m the outsider. The mis-fit. My whole life I’ve tried to please mother, father, aunts, uncles, nobles, ambassadors…and I just keep failing. What god cursed me? Why is it when I’m ecstatic I feel like I could scale the peak of Mount Eterna and traverse the dark terrain of any jungle, but when I’m somber every step is like crawling on my belly across broken glass. On some days, I can barely stand to move at all.” She looked out at a float in the distance; a ludicrously affable-looking pink dragon spraying a surfeit of flower petals at regular intervals. Beneath it, revelers were dancing, drinking, and celebrating its majestic absurdity. She looked back at her sister. “Last month, she seemed genuinely nervous for me when I was just enthusiastically talking about a dress I had altered by our brilliant court seamstress. She said I needed to take a breath and slow down. I didn’t understand. I still don’t. I was just excitedly talking. I must have been born broken.” She watched as a small, terrified lizard scampered from the boardwalk and crawled under the wooden planks of the stage. She sighed once more. “It’s not the Tarkat,” she wretchedly repeated to herself. “It really is just me.”

She felt an elbow nudge her arm. It was Kitana bringing her back again. “Hey. You stopped waving and have that ‘pensive’ look on you. We can’t be brooding on stage. It looks crazy. It’s integral we project ‘royal gregariousness’, as father used to say, to our subjects.”

“Right.” Mileena replied. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over…”

An unusually loud blue firework burst overhead. Mileena wasn’t expecting it. She felt her right-arm tremble; she gripped it with her other arm. A sudden subconscious flow of memories flashed in her head: A male hand on her cheek, the intoxicating smell of blood and battle, the touch of steel, and a spray of red covering her face. And then? Darkness. Light. Her sister’s gentle expression. It was all coming back to her now. The synesthetic details of her feral reversion earlier that day. Slowly unveiling like a luridly-colored child’s picture-book. She did not want to be reading this story.

Mileena grabbed hold of her own shaking hand and whispered the technique Li Mei had taught her centuries ago (when she was still very, very close to her). “Calm yourself. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.” With each number she took a complete breath, inhaling and exhaling. She breathed out slowly, “Five. Four. Three.” She could feel herself cooling down and reclaiming her equilibrium. The trauma was dissolving. “Two. One. Zero.”

She exhaled slowly one last time. She forced a smile and began waving. From the corner of her eye, she observed her sister. Kitana looked like one of the creepy, porcelain dolls she kept in the corner of her bedroom, and refused to get rid of, for whatever esoteric reason.

“May the demons of the twisting nether save me,” she thought sardonically. “I don’t think I can stand this much longer.” And that’s when she heard her footsteps approach from the rear of the stage.

By the gods, it took long enough. She had left the Royal Guard in the hands of her second-in-command, Khameleon, but now she had returned from the Temple of Delia to resume her primary duty.

The footfall unmistakably belonged to her. Over the past few years, she had begun to recognize her gait and stride. The creaks on the floorboards in the hallway leading to her room, specifically. By now, she could recognize her by sound alone. But that wasn’t the only reason she knew she was there. She could already taste her. The scent of wildflowers, orange groves, leather, and hushed rainfall. It could be no one else. Her clandestine lover. Her beloved light. Her heart. Her dearest Tanya.

The sound of those steps was nothing short of a minor miracle. As such, Mileena exhaled a sigh of belated relief.

The reprieve proved to be astonishingly fleeting. Passing by the stage was an immense, abrasive float erected on top of a garishly elongated charabanc. It was a magniloquent design depicting an appropriately decadent subject: Roz-Isleth, an obscure, nocturnal deity said to dwell within the dark heart of Tsaagan. The supposed celestial manifestation of sorcery, crossroads, and wayward passion, she was worshipped by outlander Edenians living in the mountains surrounding Zikandur. “A barbarian’s deity”, Mileena whispered to herself. High into the air, staring down menacingly at her were the three faces of the disturbing cult goddess. Her first face, the Lion, the maw of thirst; the second, the Lamb, with her desperate eyes; and the center Edenian face, an uncanny expression of feminine hunger and insatiable appetite. Her ruby eyes glared at the princesses in mystical obscenity. Beneath the gargantuan tri-faced effigy, were two women. One in carnivalesque male drag, the other dressed as a queen from antiquity. They held hands and exchanged theatrical kisses. Mileena could not tell if the romance was genuine or simply performative. And, ultimately, it didn’t really matter. She began to bite her lip in frustration.

At this point, Mileena was emotionally drained watching others express their desire. She looked over at her sister. “I truly wish I could tell you about her”, she considered. “I will someday. I trust that you’ll understand. Even if no one else does.” And with that thought, she knew she needed a real respite.

She was feeling stifled, but her ever-vigilant rescuer was now merely a few yards behind her. With a carefully practiced coy expression, Mileena turned her head to the side, and made light eye contact with her Umgadi. She knew, even before the words were spoken, and walked up to her royal, beloved charge.

“Yes, Princess?” Tanya voiced the question carefully. Though she veiled her feelings, she could barely contain her smile.

“Fetch us water, please.” The clandestine lovers both knew the codes and what they meant. Mileena wasn’t dehydrated. Tanya was being asked to wait for her by the water fountain for a brief moment of private intimacy.

“As you wish.” And with those words, Tanya turned toward the meeting spot and walked at a brisk pace. The interaction was short-lived, but it was suffused with passionate energy. If Mileena had asked, she knew Tanya would have traveled all the way to the Navala Coast. And, royalty or not, Mileena knew she would do the same for her. Love was a scary thing, indeed.

The thought of her closeness sent a ripple down Mileena’s spine. Tanya’s lips were as precious as the gates of paradise, and she would be tasting them again within mere minutes.

And that’s when Kitana turned toward her twin. “Careful, sister.” In an instant, Mileena’s smile collapsed. “Entanglements with Umgadi are forbidden. You know their vows.” Her younger sister had noticed. And, more than that, she was passing judgement. Mileena’s worst nightmare had come to fruition. Kitana knew. And, horrifically, she did not understand her deepest, most cherished secret. Her closest confidant had failed her. Her trust lay in ruins.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Her sister had murdered the mood; fury did not begin to describe Mileena’s sentiment. Her eyes were Edenian fire (the same as her mother). She was seeing absolute red. Did Kitana realize what she had done? Despite their closeness, their sisterhood, their endless hours, days, months, and years together, this was a desecration of her identity Mileena could not have anticipated. “Forbidden?”, she contemplated, her fist clenched. Kitana couldn’t possibly have just said that word. She had spoken to her with the same air of authority that her mother frequently deployed; but this was far worse. This wasn’t about slouching at a tedious royal banquet or missing an appointment with a boring prince. First, Kitana was her peer and had no authority over her. And, more fundamentally, Kitana was talking about the core of her selfhood. She was invalidating her experience, her feelings, and her love. Mileena desperately pushed these feelings down. Every fiber in her being told her to scream at her sister at the top of her lungs, but she knew she had to repress that urge. She needed to play it cool for now.

“Who told you?” She tried her best to return to waving.

Kitana looked genuinely surprised at the question. As if Mileena had suddenly asked her if she liked the sound of rain or the scent of wildflowers.

“No one. I have eyes. As do the snakes at court who would cheer your downfall.” She whispered the words as if she had known for months; and that terrible certainty in her voice tore Mileena apart. She did not want to be having this conversation. And she categorically did not want to be having it in public, on stage, during the most important celebration of the year. And yet, she felt compelled to push back against Kitana’s absurd claim of indiscretion.

“The Umgadi's rules are ridiculous.” It wasn’t exactly a strong defense, but it was better than passivity and silence. She was losing her equilibrium, so she took a deep breath. Her performative waving had stopped again. It was all too infuriating. Her sister was infuriating. The Umgadi’s rules were ridiculous. Kitana knew this. They were antiquated rubrics. Obsolete dogma from a more barbaric age. Everyone understood the “celibacy vows” were just a method to prevent priestess fraternization during the centuries of religious zealotry, tens of thousands of years before the Golden Age and the unification of Edenia. They served no purpose now. It was even theorized among some university antiquarians that the legendary Empress Kitsune had an Umgadi lover; and those were the days of classical heroes and high adventure. Mileena knew her history and, as such, gritted her teeth. “Some Golden Age I was born into…” she thought to herself.

Kitana looked exasperated. “And you can change them when you are Empress.” She turned her head back to the parade-goers, broke eye contact with her sister, and resumed her waving and smiling. A gesture of supreme condescension in Mileena’s view. “For now, you cannot jeopardize your ascension.”

That was too much. That was unforgiveable. Mileena shivered with a rage she had not felt in decades. It wasn’t just what Kitana had said, it’s what was unsaid. Between the lines. She knew how to read her sister. She knew what she was really saying. She knew how to translate that haughtiness, that scoff, and that condescending shift in gaze. She was saying, “I am not having this trivial conversation. Be an adult, break things off, deny your heart, and suppress your feelings. Enough of this perverse affair. Stop being a compulsive, hysterical, irrational child.”

And those implied, tacit sentences hit Mileena harder than anything her younger twin had ever said to her. It was a denial of everything she believed their sisterhood was based on. She was smashed; fragments on the floor of the stage. She felt like a wilting flower, confined to a small vase. Pathetic, lonesome, and meaningless. Despite the hurt, the elder twin would be damned if she showed it to her patronizing sister. Instead, she stared daggers at Kitana and watched as she continued to wave like a dull manikin.

More than staring. She was seething. Her sister’s “parade smile” was beginning to truly disgust her. Cheers for “Kitana” emerged from a gaudy float shaped like a trireme. It was brimming with shirtless men rowing ersatz oars. Suddenly, in Mileena’s mind, her sister’s name became something akin to an occult incantation. “We love you, Kitana!” she heard proclaimed by a dozen men with alacrity. For a moment, she believed her sister had grown the horns of an Oni.

“Kitana!” They screamed again. This time in annoying unison. As Mileena heard the name of her sister, it felt as if slow insects crawled down her back. She maintained her icy stare.

Kitana sensed her sister’s glower from the corner of her eye. She knew the expression. It was a look she reserved for the most offensive and repulsive princes. But she had never seen it deployed against her. It unnerved her. As for Mileena, there were words, phrases, sentences, and screeds, that she wanted to say...but she literally and figuratively could not voice them. Instead, rather than unleash the kraken of all tirades, she backed away from her sister, the stage, and her royal duty.

Another blue firework burst directly overhead, but Kitana did not see. Sensing vaguely that she had crossed a line, and belatedly perceiving the severity of her sister’s distress, she began to panic over what she had just said. She stopped waving. Stopped caring about the damned revelers. The only thing that mattered was walking off the stage at a startling pace. Kitana made one last attempt to say something, but the words died in her throat. Nerves? Fear? Dehydration? (where was Tanya?). Mileena was gone. The younger twin was now alone and equally distraught.

***

Meanwhile, Mileena raced down the steps of the stage; her thoughts darting in and out of her mind like a swarm of fireflies. She felt a poison wildness building up inside of her. She could feel the humiliation reaching to the top of her skull. Her face was turning red. It was all heat and blood and nightmare. A thought-executing hurricane. She needed to be alone. Now.

That, sadly, was not going to happen. At the base of the stairs, cordoned off from the herds of commoners, the wealthy elite of Sun Do congregated and drunkenly babbled about aristocratic twaddle, leisure activities, and palace intrigue. Mileena knew nearly all of them and despised their hypercritical, self-important countenances. She lowered her head, refused to look at them, and kept her eyes glued to the granite cobblestones beneath her feet. “Get out of my way,” she ordered, as she pushed aside a particularly irritating courtier. She heard the laughter. The condescension. She knew what they were saying. It was the same old song. “There she goes. The hothead. The frenetic girl. The daughter always in a state of hysterical rapture. Where is she off to? To read her confessional poetry? To talk to her cat? Poor thing…No, poor Empress Sindel, to have such an eccentric daughter.”

As she quickened her pace, Mileena put a hand to her cheek and felt a hot tear slowly streaming from her eye. “Damnit! Why is this happening?” She suppressed the impulse.

Rhiannon, chattering amongst the flock of courtiers, noticed a magenta blur pass by her field of vision. She grumbled in frustration, broke off a conversation with an insipid Osh-Tekk consul, and hurried alongside the elder princess. Struggling to keep up with her frantic pace, she whispered so as to not create a scene, “You need to get back on stage with Princess Kitana.”

That name. It spurred an involuntary pause. Mileena abruptly stopped dead in her tracks. She felt the slow insects crawling down her back once more. “My sister....” she spat out, “is more than capable of fulfilling her regal duties of smiling and waving by herself. It's apparently all she's good for.”

Rhiannon managed to look confused, incensed, and uneasy all at the same time. It was a complex series of emotions, but she succeeded in contorting her dour face in such a way as to signify all three. “And where exactly do you think you are going?” she demanded.

“Away. Anywhere but here.” And she meant it. She was more than capable of walking to the Navala Coast for real this time.

The majordomo stepped in front of Mileena and raised an eyebrow. “No, you aren’t. You have to stay. It’s your royal duty. It is tradition. Do you really think Shiva Ranatai’s parade can proceed without the united royal family symbolically presiding over it? I’m not here to babysit you two. Your presence is essential! If you don’t, I’ll inform your mother that…”

Mileena was finished with the conversation; she responded with a frenzy of words that she knew would come back to hurt her. “You go ahead! Tell her! You can’t do anything to me! Keep your speeches, your bathos, your fucking prestige. Let my mother know. Tell her about Mileena. The ‘thankless child’, the ‘selfish dreamer’, and all the other terrible things they say. It means nothing to me. Not anymore. Step aside…or I will put you down like a lame vaktor.”

She left Rhiannon in the dust. This was not their first confrontation, but this was certainly the ugliest. She heard the majordomo’s serpentine hiss behind her. “This is it, Mileena! Don’t think you’ll be able to breeze past what you’re doing. Do you really think you can casually threaten a member of your mother’s counsel? You don’t want me as an enemy.” She then mumbled under her breath. “Impulsive brat. As always and forever.”

Despite the high emotions, a princess in extremis does not tip the scales of the world. The ploughman drives his oxen, the fisherman catalogues his catch, and the thief gathers his trove. And so, the merriment of the lantern festival continued without much concern for an absent elder twin. Though some courtiers began to notice an alarming number of military personnel garrisoning in the streets…

Mileena kept walking toward the outskirts of the Royal Pavilion. The eventual destination still unknown, her only focus was on the swiftness of her steps. She desperately wanted to scream in frustration, but she was surrounded on all sides by court sycophants, celebrators, and one remarkably obnoxious street musician. “Can you not blow that dulcian so close to my ear!” She felt her heart pounding in her chest like a hollow drum. She was exasperated; she felt the weight of her anxiety as if it was the mass of all the realms on her shoulders. “I…I can’t take it. I absolutely cannot take it. It’s opening up a chasm-sized crater in my heart”, she thought to herself. “I can’t hide my relationship with Tanya any longer. It’s killing me to love someone so completely, but be forced to do so exclusively in the shadows. I’m already hiding this terrible affliction. A disease that’s slowly incinerating my mind. It’s going to destroy me. I cannot be closeting my love and illness simultaneously. And what exactly is so unspeakably wrong about my bond with Tanya? Why must I conceal it with the same desperate energy that I mask my Tarkat?” She stopped, leaned her palms against the wall of a stone edifice, and rested her head against her inner elbow. “Mother hates me and believes me to be a failure, and I fear she may be right. I’m still shaking from whatever I did to that wretched Earthrealmer this morning, and now this…an appalling quarrel with my sister on stage, in public, during the most revered festival of the year. Damnit! Why does this consistently happen? Why do I always happen?” And then she punched the edifice. Her hand was immediately bruised, but not as much as her conscience. She belatedly realized she had jabbed a monument to the Daybreak Legion and felt rotten to her core. “Add desecrating a war memorial commemorating Sun Do’s greatest heroes to the list.” She sighed. “I…I think I stabbed a man in the eyes today, and I can’t even be sure. I don’t remember exactly.” She touched her forehead and felt a deep, primordial need to weep, but she dared not cry; the venue was too public, too fraught. In addition to concealing her illness and love, she was now denying her most basic emotional need. To have tears.

She thought of her sister and felt a new stream of invective invade her mind. She seized hold of it. If she couldn’t weep, she would embrace wrath.

“It’s always so perfect for her. So easy. I don’t know what hurts worse the virus that’s slowly ripping away my innards, or Kitana’s betrayal.” She paused, took a deep breath, and considered the gravity of what she had just whispered aloud to herself. “And I willingly let her in. Because for so long, I had nobody else. And then this. I am so humiliated. My heart is broken. And she couldn’t care less.” She heard a soft voice in the back of her mind: “truth hurts” it repeated over and over and over. She cast it aside.

“The passionless virgin”, she considered. “The traitor. The treachery.” No, that wasn’t right. What was the word she was looking for? “Mendacity! That was it. Yes, the mendacity of it. She lied to me. Fraud! She knew! How long had she known? And she said nothing! She just let me waltz around the palace thinking all my sacred intimacy was clandestine and quiet…and then she judgmentally whispers me about it in public! ‘Sister.’” She mockingly scoffed. “My sister…What kind of sister engages in that kind of deception. And the mendacity! That might work for her, but it doesn’t work for me. I’m tired of mendacity. I’ve lived too many years with it. Veiling my Tarkat, my romantic desires, my passions, my beloved! The endless closeting and cloistering of my emotions. Enough! I have had it. This is it. This is the end. Tonight, when I see her, we are going to have it out. If it comes to it, I am going to tear her apart emotionally. I know all her sensitive boundaries. If she wants to play dirty like this, if she wants to suggest my love is perverse, and that I am some kind of deviant, I’ll hit her back harder. All of her stupid, childish infatuations, her fixations, her aviary, her garden, her fatuous, little paintings, her mortifying loss to that boy at the tournament! I am going to use my words to annihilate her heart, just like she did to me. I’ll make her weep, and she’ll know what it’s like to feel truly humiliated.”

Mileena felt like smirking to herself, but for whatever reason couldn’t manage the gesture. It was like her own body refused to comply. In truth, Mileena adored her sister’s paintings, admired her balcony sky-garden, and cherished the condition she kept the palace aviary. These weren’t fixations to Kitana. They were the core of her identity. The younger twin had a way of finding passion in the mundane, quotidian work of everyday life. Mileena knew this more than anyone; but she was in pain, and pain isn’t always rational. And so, she continued her whispered rant.

“And the way she just went back to smiling and waving. ‘You cannot jeopardize your ascension.’ The feeble-minded prude. She said it as if it was the end of our conversation, and that if I said anything further, I was being a naïve political neophyte. Not everything is about politics. Some things are more important. Love, empathy, and sisterhood just to name a few. She should know that!” Mileena was cognizant of her whispered monologue getting more and more emphatic. She slowed down as best she could, but the tirade continued. “She knew damn well that I was wounded! And she knew damn well what she said would hurt me! That’s the unpardonable sin. The deliberate cruelty of it.” She spat on the ground. It wasn’t exactly befitting a Princess, but she wasn’t really in the mood for decorum. “…And the way she phrased it…as if Tanya didn’t have a say in her own decision-making. As if Tanya was some kind of court servant or automaton. Despicable. I didn’t trick Tanya, I…”

A sudden realization interceded Mileena’s dark, dejected ideations.

“Ugh. Tanya! I left her waiting at the pavilion’s fountain. How could I be so…”

She almost said “selfish” aloud, but she caught herself. It was too close to what Kitana had expressed on stage. She felt the need to move again. She didn’t want to think about how she had possibly disappointed her dearest. Her mind spontaneously generated an image of Tanya, alone, her dark skin glistening in the light of paper lanterns, looking anxiously by the fountain wondering if she had done something to offend her beloved. Mileena couldn’t stand the thought, but she also couldn’t endure the idea of returning to the parade grounds either…she couldn’t face anything right now. And so, almost involuntarily, she renewed her quick pace away from the Daybreak Shrine’s edifice, the lantern festival, the central boulevards, and the hordes of revelers.

As Mileena approached the darkness beyond the grand, Royal Pavilion, two Umgadi attendants in full regalia came running up behind her. The scent of incense still filled the air despite their distance from the parade.

“Princess!” It was Leisa and Hiziza, two subordinate Umgadi typically assigned to the palace’s fortified barbican, situated at the perimeter of the Tajan Gateway. Like most Umgadi, Mileena had an amicable rapport with them; these two, in particular, were close to her in age. They had even sparred together on a few occasions in their early adolescence. Tanya, also, thought well of them.

“Princess! It isn’t safe to go alone.” Hiziza repeated.

“I can take care of myself. You are dismissed. Return to the pavilion’s interior and assist the other Umgadi. My sister is weak and foolish and requires guardianship.” Mileena’s order was clear. Hiziza looked at Leisa disconcertedly.

Though not as robust as her comrade, Leisa knew how to be more delicate with her words. “Princess Mileena, please, allow us to protect you. We will certainly allow you privacy if that’s what you desire.” Even this far away, the hundreds of lanterns surrounding Sun Do’s central plaza softly illuminated her face. Though Leisa was unsure what had happened on stage, she knew her charge was distressed.

The princess studied the two Umgadi carefully and looked out into the dark streets leading to the Imperial Quarter. It was strange. Why had she been subconsciously walking toward the palace? These streets were not devoid of life. Beyond the central plaza and boulevards, the lantern festival’s influence was still felt. Drunken outworlders discharging negligible pyrotechnics into the sky; a fishmonger and a fruitseller eagerly closing their open-air stalls so that they could rush to view the first-line parade; and, on the far end, two felines chasing a mouse around the periphery of a padlocked bouquiniste concession.

Mileena sighed and reluctantly nodded. In her heart, she knew she was being unnecessarily impassive. And so, flanked at a distance by two Umgadi, Mileena exited the Shiva Ranatai festival. But where was she going?

In truth, she wasn’t really sure herself. Without any inkling as to why, she had snaked a path nearly all the way to the Taruz Archway, the baroque structure that housed the palace portcullis. “What am I doing?” she thought. “I can’t go home. Why did I walk here?” Her equilibrium was beginning to return. It was that same voice in the back of her mind, “I need to be at the festival. It’s more than an obligation, it’s my royal duty. As much as I can’t stand to think of it right now, Rhiannon was right for the wrong reason. I have to go back.” But even still, Mileena didn’t feel quite ready to return immediately. She was torn between two contradictory emotions, and they were still dominating her psyche. It all had to do with Kitana. She was grieving as a sister, and raging as a princess. She needed time to…to what exactly? She wasn’t a misanthrope. Not usually, anyway. She just needed a little more time alone before facing her sister again. Was that so terrible? As such, she altered her course and headed back to the festival. She just made sure to take the lengthy, scenic route: through the Empress’ Hanging Gardens.

***

When she arrived under the grand lavender willow, she seated herself on a limestone bench and plucked a small branch from the tree’s long, spear-shaped leaves. She examined the color, and looked to her two Umgadi. Leisa had followed through with her promise. They had given the elder twin a wide berth. She was free to enjoy the haunting, apparitional twilight of her mother’s crowning aesthetic achievement.

She tossed the branch aside and listened. She could still make out the distant hum of music vibrating in the air in front of her like the wings of sand flies. Shiva Ranatai suddenly felt very trivial, indeed. The festival of a thousand lanterns was proceeding without her. Looking out into the purple darkness, the elder princess sighed. These royal grounds were a space of quiet reflection, and she intended to use them. There it was; the magnificent colonnade, the crystal stream, the marble gazebos, the shimmering waterfalls, and the ancient stone bridge where she used to play tag with her sister. For a moment, she smiled. She thought of a time when they were both very young. Two girls, one in blue, the other in magenta, running along the bank of the stream, laughing, and chasing each other with vibrant energy. “I’m over here, Milly! I bet you can’t jump across!” And almost instantly after she said it, Kitana slipped and fell into the cool water. Her clothes were soaked, her hair tousled, and she was dreadfully upset. So, Mileena did the only sensible thing an older sister could do. She purposely jumped in the water herself, drenched her own garments with stream water, and told her younger sister that it wasn’t so bad to be clumsy. After all, she had fallen in too, and there was no need for tears; especially now that they were matching. It was the earliest memory she had of comforting her sister.

Mileena caught herself smiling and looked away from the bridge. The brief moment of mirth had ceased, and she was alone with her frustration once more. Entanglements with Umgadi are forbidden. She sneered. Her wrath returned, but there was also a numbness invading her psyche as well. It was as if she was so transcendentally upset, she had moved beyond humble Edenian emotion. She felt like one of the grotesque alabaster gargoyles perched on the balustrade above the courtyard, overlooking the olive trees, veiled with the dust of antiquity. She suddenly wondered what it was like to be very ancient and to feel inanimate.

Wanting to hold onto this feeling of inertia, she lay down on the bench, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, only a few minutes had passed, though her view had literally changed. Before her was an unobstructed vision of the night sky. She gazed up at the stars and thought back to her adolescent tutoring. She remembered it in stark clarity; the court astronomer was pointing at chalkboard tabulations, charts and diagrams, proofs and figures, equations and formulas. “Are you getting any of this?”, she heard Kitana whisper to her. Her expression was puzzled…utterly perplexed beyond measure.

“Absolutely not. He’s been talking for eighty minutes straight!”

Both twins had rolled their eyes and sulked, feeling sick to their stomach, and learning nothing. It wasn’t until later that night, when they had exited the lecture room, that Mileena truly understood the lesson. Kitana spoke first, “Thank the gods! It’s finally over. I was about to claw my eyes out. Why did father insist on sending him to lecture us about the heavenly spheres? Couldn’t he have stayed at the Imperial Academy?”

But then, in that moment, when Mileena opened the black marble doorway and stepped into to the palace courtyard. She felt herself rising and gliding, communing with the mystical night-air, gazing up from time to time at the perfect silence of the stars. Astrolabes, telescopes, and celatones were unnecessary. The cosmos was no longer an intellectual abstraction. She didn’t see the celestial objects as a space of fragmentation to be divided and broken down into columns; she only saw union and oneness, and the pulling together of things that had once been separated. It was a moment of sublime transcendence. One in which she knew, without a hint of vanity, that she had surpassed the erudite astronomer. She hugged her sister, and implored her to “look up” above them. “Do you see?”, she excitedly exclaimed.

That started a tradition. The sisters would spend hours some nights, lying on the emerald grass, side by side, staring at the sky. This stargazing continued up to the present; though the twins had one point of friendly disagreement. Kitana firmly believed that looking at the cosmos was a humbling experience. When she pointed at constellations and poked at her sister’s shoulder, she insisted that the universe was the greatest elicitor of smallness she had ever experienced. The immensity of the night sky always made her feel “so trivial, meager, and insignificant.”

Mileena, however, wasn’t so sure. She wondered if, perhaps, Kitana's ego was getting in the way of her seeing truth. Why should she feel so small? Unless she was thinking of herself in too significant a way to begin with? No, for Mileena it was an antithetical experience. The truth was, when Mileena looked at the stars, she felt enormous. She felt so profoundly connected to the cosmos that she wondered if their configuration reflected her own. Was she, herself, composed of the dust of stars? The same molecules? The same elements? And, if so, wouldn’t it make sense to feel as vast as the heavens? She couldn’t be sure, but Kitana had teased her about it endlessly.

“Why am I thinking about Kitana again?” She murmured to herself. In point of fact, she didn’t want to. She was still furious with her. Her sister had just invalidated her feelings for Tanya, and tried to make it sound like the most serious romance of her life was perverse and foolish. “The nitwit”, Mileena declared. And now, because of our quarrel, the nitwit gets to be closer to Tanya tonight than me. She loathed the thought of it. But not the thought of Tanya. Never the thought of Tanya. Mileena considered Tanya in her mind’s eye. Her eyes, her hair, her neck, her arms, her legs, her… “I really am driving myself crazy”, she reflected.

“I’m sometimes afraid of my love for Tanya”, she whispered to herself. “I would do anything for her. It’s bedlamized my entire life. Perhaps, this is natural (even if there are many who say our love is unnatural); true love must be anarchy. It must be an ineffable experience, beyond words or description.” She believed in the ecstatic moment, of jouissance, of a passion that could make one feel out of dimension. Love had cracked her open. It was then that she considered the book of poems. The one that changed everything for her. It was a gift from an Earthrealm delegation over a century ago. Leaves of Grass. She adored it above all other texts she had ever received. It was as if the poet was documenting for Mileena the violent and terrible spirituality of love. The fierceness of passion. Most significantly, the poet placed the utmost confidence in the reader; it was as if he knew what it meant to feel the way Mileena felt. Meanwhile, her mother thought the poems were salacious and gauche. If her daughter hadn’t been so completely devoted to the text, it’s likely she would have disposed of it. It was in this instant, while pining for Tanya, that Mileena recalled one of her favorite selections. Native Moments.

She said the words to herself like a prayer…and thought solely of Tanya. “Give me now libidinous joys only! Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank!” She paused and sat upright once more and brushed the dust off her ensemble. “Today, I go consort with nature’s darlings —tonight too; I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share the midnight orgies of young women”. That wasn’t the real line. Mileena made a habit of changing all the pronouns to female to reflect her preferences. She felt her voice rise in volume and she slowly stood up. “I dance with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers; the echoes ring with our indecent calls.” She smiled and looked to Leisa and Hiziza. They were still at a comfortable distance. “I take for my love an Umgadi. She shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—she shall be one condemn'd by others for deeds done.”

Tanya always laughed aloud at that part when Mileena read it. “Illiterate? Darling, I am a far better reader than you or your sister.”

“No, that’s missing the point!” Mileena would reply. Tanya always loved when the princess got spirited. “You aren’t the literal person the poet is speaking about. It’s a celebration of unrestrained passion and rejecting outdated dogma. The speaker yearns for raw and primal experiences that eclipse rigid, conservative morals. For the record, I don’t think you’re lawless or rude either.”

Tanya smirked. It was that smile that quaked Mileena’s knees to the point of near collapse. “I know what it’s about, my treasure. Just ask me how lawless I am later this evening…”

The memory faded, and Mileena continued her soliloquy. She was no longer whispering. She recited the lines with a poise and alacrity she had been missing all night. “I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile myself from my companions? O you shunn'd persons! I at least do not shun you, I come forthwith in your midst—I will be your poet, I will be more to you than to any of the rest.” She finished her recitation. In truth, she felt a little ridiculous, like an actress in a Suran melodrama, but any sense of absurdity was worth her newfound rejuvenation. She was confident, undaunted, and revitalized. She ceased feeling like a wandering specter. In the phantasmal tranquility of the Hanging Gardens, she now felt truly alive.

“I am committed”, she remarked aloud. “I am committed to gliding over the sluggish conventions of this age. I am committed to beauty, empathy, and vast equality. I am committed to living. I will not be broken, and I will never capitulate to a cruel and jealous system that feeds on my misery. Never.”

She was more confident about her relationship with Tanya than ever before. It was time. She would return to the stage, and have it out with her sister. Politics be damned.

***

When she had tramped through the streets earlier in the evening, she was heartsore, suffocating, and wretched. It had felt like she was tied to some enormous vermin. Things were decidedly different now. Leisa and Hiziza flanked her as she passed through the Hanging Gardens’ immense barbican, but her pace was challenging for even the two spry Umgadi to match. The adjoining boulevards were like a lightless forest, the color of shadows, but the young Princess walked with supreme confidence through the oppressive darkness. She knew her destination, and she eagerly awaited the paper lights of Shiva Ranatai to warmly greet her.

As she dashed passed the padlocked merchant stalls and silent markets, she began to map out the words she intended to say to her sister. “When I arrive, I’ll tell her I’m not going anywhere, and that we need to have a serious tête-à-tête as siblings later tonight. If she challenges me, or patronizingly scowls, I’ll glare at her with that expression mother taught us centuries ago. And then, when the lantern festival concludes, and we return to our private royal chambers, I’ll tell her truth: that I am no deviant. And if she even thinks of contradicting me, and insinuates that I am, I’ll reduce her to tears. I’ll tear her heart out. Then she’ll know not to judge me or my beloved. I can overlook that she stole my right of primogeniture in the tournament; after all, it was our Empress’ command; I can even overlook that she was insufficiently moved by mother’s cruelty toward me. ‘Your illness is your fault.’ Psh! Kitana knows damned well that isn’t true.” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued her pace. “I can overlook all that, but I cannot countenance this betrayal. We are going to have it out.” The more Mileena thought about it, the more she desperately desired to hurt Kitana emotionally. She knew it wasn’t just a validation of love for Tanya anymore; she wanted to extract emotional revenge against her sister. Though she had attained a new resolve and poise, she was still ruled by the same mercurial desire that enveloped her when she initially stormed off the stage. It was an ugly psychology; and she knew, at her core, it was dangerous to indulge it.

A warm breeze suddenly passed through the hushed streets and adorning orange trees. The uncanny antecedent for what was to come. For it was then, as she approached the lights of Shiva Ranatai, that she detected the scent of smoldering embers, smoke, and mortal fright. She had only now realized that the hum of distant festival music had ceased long ago. Then she heard the screaming. A weird terror struck at Mileena, and she stood dazed like a mute bird. “Sister.” The word came into her head, but she inadvertently said it aloud. It was an instinctual impulse. And she said it with an entirely different energy than what she had been thinking about her not even a minute prior. It was like a torch had been lit in her mind. She needed to get to Kitana. She needed to protect her little sister. It was a primordial, ancient awareness; she was no longer thousands of years old. It was as if she was back in the Hanging Gardens, with her fledgling sister, tenderly helping her out of the stream and telling her everything was going to be okay. All in an instant, without thinking, she rushed forward and beheld the cataclysm.

There, before her, lay the charcoal ruins of Shiva Ranatai. The central boulevards of Sun Do were no longer a space of spectacle, gaiety, and mirth. Now, it was only an uncanny, chthonic simulation of her home. What had happened? It seemed as if the streets were paved with flame and chaos; trampled, injured citizens were being tended to by military physicians and kind samaritans, while others simply pleaded for help. Decorative banners, suspended above the city square, displaying riddles, had fallen to the cobblestones of the street and were being slowly incinerated by tenacious embers. Colorful parade floats were upturned and sideways. The bells adjacent to the Temple of Argus suddenly began to clang and reverberate. It was complete pandemonium. Leisa and Hiziza called out to her, but Mileena was already sprinting toward the city center and the stage on which she had left Kitana. Alone.

But the stage was entirely empty. Her eyes searched frantically, but there was no sign of her sister. Or Tanya. “Perhaps Tanya got her out before….” it was a hopeful thought, but she couldn’t chance it being inaccurate. She then heard a familiar voice coming from the exterior of the stage. “What can you tell me about the Zaterran that attacked us?” The voice was unmistakably Khameleon’s, and she seemed to be interrogating a low-level military cadet. She had him pinned to the wall with a dagger near his head. She was demanding precise, unambiguous information. Mileena knew the personalities of her Umgadi. Khameleon was not playing around. She was perfectly capable of maiming this soldier. “I don’t want to hear you answer ‘state secrets’ again. I saw you speaking with Lieutenant Reiko, what did he tell you? I need a name. An intent. It is imperative. I need to know who this Zaterran is. Your refusal restricts my ability to protect the Royal House. Do not make this hard for you.” What in the Netherrealm could that signify? What is going on? Had Zikandur declared a war of independence? It didn’t make any sense. Why now? And why attack a universally revered lantern festival?

All around the Royal Pavilion there were swarms of military and constabulary personnel, but not a single sign of her sister. Mileena was frantic before, but now she was in near hysterics. “Where is she? I can’t…What if…I should have…” Suddenly, an epiphanic awareness materialized into her head. “The ocean boardwalk. Perhaps she’d have taken refuge there to evade the fire? She always loved the harbor walk; even as child, she adored listening the waves melodically crash beneath the pier. There’s even a direct route back to the Royal Palace at the far end. She must be there. Tanya may even be with her.” So, it was simple. She needed to get to the far end of the boardwalk, adjacent to the First Line’s parade route, by the seafront.

“Douse the fires!” she heard a command from a high-ranking military official as she descended the pavilion’s stone stairs. When she turned her head to look, she saw the fiery eyes of Motaro, a battle-hardened and cruel Centaurian. He was a hardliner. Always pushing for war, and he served directly under the Supreme Commander. He was brandishing a sword and using it to point where he wanted his men to busy themselves. “What is he doing here? Why are any military personnel here?” Mileena considered. She didn’t like what his presence signified.

When she looked toward the other side of the Royal Pavilion, she saw Rhiannon screaming at Li Mei and a few other security personnel. “How could you let this happen? All of this! This is a total failure of the constabulary. You have humiliated the city and our Empress!” The sight of both of them irritated Mileena. She ran onto the boardwalk and stayed out of Rhiannon’s field of vision. Beams of wood lay at her feet like desiccated whale bones on a shoreline. The boardwalk was a mass of confusion and parade wreckage, and as she sprinted along it, she began to lose hope. Fear rose up in Mileena. There was still no sign of Kitana. “What if she’s…”. But then she heard those footsteps. They were careful and slightly faltering, but it was still unmistakably her beloved’s gait and footfall. She slowly turned around.

Tanya. There she was. Her bronze goddess. Her amaranthine bodyguard. But she was…hurt? What could have possibly happened? Her cherished Umgadi was facing the sea, leaning on the wooden balustrade for support, while clutching her ribs. There was a light wound on her shoulder. She couldn’t quite tell if Tanya was surveying the ocean or a ruin of cyclopean masonry at the end of a natural jetty. Even without seeing her expression, the elder Princess knew she was exhausted and anguished. She hadn’t noticed Mileena’s presence yet. As she was about to approach her, Khameleon, apparently finished with her interrogation, came running up to her first. She wearily conveyed what she had learned from the terrified cadet, “His name is Syzoth. I’m not sure if that name means anything to you, but it means absolutely nothing to me. He appears to have met up with the Earthrealmers earlier in the day near the heart of the Living Forest. The High Command is also on the lookout for a male Tarkatan that was seen with them. I can’t believe the military didn’t inform us about…”

“Tanya!” Mileena couldn’t wait another second and ran up to her beloved. Every part of her wanted to wrap her arms around her dearest, to hold her, to caress her, to kiss her with relief, but the boardwalk was a garden of eyes. It was stifling. Tanya felt it too. Her expression said everything. It was a look of transcendent succor and deliverance, but also deep suppression. Her treasure had returned to her…but she couldn’t take her into her arms. She had feared the worst. For a brief moment, the two of them inelegantly stood in front of each other not knowing what was appropriate. Mileena grabbed her own arm. She needed to hold onto something. Meanwhile, Tanya’s ecstatic alleviation began to dissipate and she could finally speak.

“Princess, thank the gods! I’ve—We’ve been terribly, frightfully concerned about your safety. Princess Kitana informed us that you had abruptly left, but wouldn’t elaborate; we were attacked not long after.” Tanya almost reached out and grasped Mileena’s hand, but stopped herself at the last possible second. The angst was palpable. It was clear to Mileena how much terror and unnecessary worry she’d put her through. She suddenly felt dreadful and appallingly callow for the panic she’d caused. She would apologize a thousand times over when they could share a moment in private.

Mileena bit her lip. “I’m…I’m just relieved to see you okay–err, both of you, that is. What is going on? What happened? Where is my sister…” She could barely hide her anxiety. She was sweating, thinking so fast her voice could barely keep up. Her hands were quavering. It was a realization. If Kitana was okay, she’d almost certainly have been with Tanya. And she wasn’t.

Tanya sighed. “We are, unfortunately, still trying to piece together what happened.” She turned to Khameleon. “Inform the other Umgadi about this elusive Zaterran. They need to be alerted to a formidable shapeshifter. Have the Temple’s chronicler consult the archive for references of a ‘Syzoth.’ We need to know who he is, his political affiliations, and what we’re up against. Whether he’s a terrorist, a zealot, a lunatic or some amalgamation of all three, his time will come.” Khameleon quickly nodded and sprinted off back towards the city square. Tanya then turned her total attention to Mileena and tried her best to smile. She wasn’t successful; if anything, she looked even more despondent. She then reached her arm toward her beloved before wincing in pain. The sudden movement had jarred her rib injury. Mileena flinched as she saw her dearest’s face contort. “I’m all right. I assure you. It’s nothing a night’s sleep won’t cure.” She took a deep breath. “As for your sister, please don’t panic, but…” Her pupils suddenly glanced to her left, to the far end of the boardwalk. Mileena slowly turned her head to see what Tanya’s eyes were indicating.

In that moment, she saw her sister. At the end of an adjoining pier, near a mass of seaweed, flanked by a fearsome coterie of Umgadi, there were three assiduous-looking physicians, and they were adroitly tending to an unconscious cerulean-clad woman. Her magisterial outfit (that Mileena had helped her titivate) was in tatters, and she was covered in a kind of viscous, lime-colored fluid. One physician was arguing furiously with another; but about what, Mileena could not fathom. Tanya looked at her beloved and expeditiously grabbed ahold of her shaking hand. Mileena opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

Tanya filled in the silence. “It’s Zaterran blood and venom. The physicians assured me she’s in stable condition, they’re just assessing her…” She sighed. “Your sister rushed into battle with the mysterious insurgent. Khameleon and I immediately attempted to stop her, and bring her to safety, but she was…insistent in her recklessness. She put up a valiant effort, but she was ultimately defeated. After she was rendered unconscious, the rest of the Umgadi and I were unable to detain the Zaterran. The combination of his camouflage and the arrival of his Earthrealm allies proved an adequate enough distraction for him to make his escape.”

Mileena was processing Tanya’s words, but they seemed so terribly distant. It was almost as if she was being spoken to underwater. She looked at the cold, unconscious expression on her sister’s face. She was like a confused, fragile creature lost in the Sea of Dunes during a windstorm. She looked so vulnerable. Mileena couldn’t stand it. “Kitana!” A word finally came out. With tears in her eyes, Mileena started to sprint toward her damaged twin, but before she could get within ten yards of Kitana, Tanya grasped her waist.

“Princess! No. The physicians have this under control. It’s imperative that we not interfere. They need to assess the seriousness of her injuries. Zaterran blood is highly toxic and unpredictable.” She put her lips close to Mileena’s ear and whispered. “I know you want to help. I know you want to be close to her, but you must trust me. The physicians are the experts. They know how to help her.”

Mileena was still struggling; trying to pry herself loose from Tanya’s firm grip. She knew Tanya was speaking and that her advice was salient, but she just couldn’t quite hear the sensible guidance she was giving right now. Not with her sister’s body in extremis. It was taking all of Tanya’s strength to physically restrain her.

“You don’t understand, Tanya. This is all my fault. She is my responsibility! I abandoned her!” All the pain. All the rage toward her sister had sloughed out of her in a micro-instant. Still in Tanya’s grasp, she was erratic, flailing her arms, still trying to pull herself closer to her unconscious sibling. “Please, Tanya. Let me get closer to her. You don’t understand. She needs to know I’m there. Our bond…it’s not superficial…it’s our hearts…they’re connected. It’s in our blood. I have to…”

“Mileena!” Tanya was desperate to interrupt her beloved’s frenetic outburst. But it was a slip. Decorum demanded she say ‘Princess’, but Mileena’s intense emotions had a tendency to project onto others. Typically, it was her sister that experienced this.

Tanya continued; her hands still tight around Mileena’s slender waist. “She’s receiving care. It’s imperative we don’t interfere with the specialist healers. I’ve spoken with the principal physician. He believes she’ll be okay. We’re in the midst of getting everything situated to return her to the palace. Thank Delia’s noble heart you returned when you did.”

It had been an impossible day. Mileena couldn’t even begin to reflect on everything that had happened. Barely over an hour ago, she had one of the worst quarrels with her sister she’d ever experienced. She had been so furious at her. And now, she was at her wit’s end because she was worried for her. She looked out at the incoming tide; the waves were increasing in size. Perhaps a storm was brewing? She then looked back at Kitana’s unconscious body; her sister’s expression, even while insensate, still maintained a perpetual look of self-doubt; and then she turned her head to gaze behind her at Tanya’s gentle face, warmth, and empathy. After everything that happened, she could only think to do one thing. And, it was the only sensible thing: she took her beloved, her dearest Umgadi, and held her in her arms.

She knew they were in public. She knew it would be seen. But she didn’t care. She needed someone to hold onto.

Realizing how fundamentally disconcerted Mileena was, Tanya reluctantly returned her embrace. And, as fate would have it, their moment of intimacy went generally unnoticed by the panicked denizens of Sun Do. Mostly. Leaning on his Great Axe, surveying the boardwalk from the Grand Boulevard, the Supreme Commander of Outworld’s military, General Shao, did very much notice the clandestine lovers.

***

Mileena nervously paced across the crimson-colored, ornate carpets of Kitana’s private chamber. She occasionally looked up at the varied symbolist tapestries on the wall or at the elaborately oversized cosmetic chest on the opposite side of the room. Her sister’s private bedchamber was far from unfamiliar to Mileena; it was a space she visited daily, but never under these dire auspices. By the door, stood Tanya and Khameleon patiently awaiting the diagnosis. On the canopied bed lay the silent, unconscious Kitana; her ceremonial Shiva Ranatai outfit had been removed at the request of the chief physician. She was now only wearing a white slip. Mileena knew Kitana would loathe this. She was, at her core, modest to a fault and hated being on display; “I always feel like a specimen when I’m underdressed.” It was her enduring refrain, and it was a sentiment Mileena could genuinely respect and understand; however, in this circumstance, her ritual attire was drenched in the Zaterran’s acidic blood. There was no other option. As the elder twin considered all of this, and busied her worried mind, the aged physician the palace kept on retainer diligently inspected Kitana’s wounds.

Mileena finally spoke. “Will she be all right? How much longer will it take to…”

At that moment, the physician stood from the chair adjacent to the bed. “It is finished. I’ve done all I can. The examination by the healers near the Royal Pavilion was exemplary. She’s already on the path to recovery from what I can see. As I’m sure they told you, Zaterran blood is corrosive to Edenians, but the wound on her wrist is superficial. It looks substantially worse than it actually is, I assure you. I’ve adhered a purifying gauze to her arm. Despite its size, I can confidently report there’s been no serious tissue damage. With the combination of the balm I’ve used to sterilize her wounds, and the curative draught, I would estimate the lacerations will heal in merely a matter of hours. In terms of the venom, she is not in any immediate danger, but she absolutely needs her rest. At this point, I’m more concerned with the manner in which her head collided with the wooden boardwalk. I believe she’ll wake up in the next few hours. Someone should stay with her, monitor her, and be prepared to offer care. If, on the outside chance, she begins to seize or spasm, it’s imperative to gather me from the guest quarters across the hall. To be clear, I do not think this is at all likely; however, I will stay in close proximity just in case of an emergency. Which of you will be staying with her?”

“I will remain with my sister. This is my vigil. The Umgadi or I will alert you if her condition deteriorates. Thank you, Alamdir. Your expertise is forever cherished. The Royal Family is in your debt. I swear to you that our esteemed Empress will be everlastingly grateful.” Mileena responded confidently, clearly, and with a stoic tenor; it was as if her mother’s voice was emanating from within her. However, the stoicism was merely performative. It wasn’t a reflection of what she was truly feeling, but she had regained enough of her equilibrium over the past hour to put up a decent façade. She wouldn’t feel relief until her sister was conscious and back to her normal, affable self. For now, it was taking everything she had to not quake with anxiety.

“Very good. I am certain seeing a loved one when she awakes will do her well. Thank you, your Highness. I will take my leave.” And with that, the white-bearded Alamdir, physician of the Royal House, bowed and exited Kitana’s chamber, and made his way to the guest quarters across the hall.

When he was completely out of earshot, Tanya spoke. “A messenger was dispatched not long after the attack subsided. I understand your mother had taken her ambassadors to Morasu to council with the provincial Osh-Tekk parliamentary delegation. Given the timing of the onslaught, and the distance from Sun Do, I would anticipate your mother’s return to the palace by tomorrow’s evening. We will certainly send a second envoy with an update on Princess Kitana’s condition.”

“Thank you, Tanya. I-I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Khameleon cleared her throat.

Mileena lightly smirked. “Oh, and of course, my dear Zaterran protector. I would in no way intend to diminish you. I witnessed you interrogating a revoltingly unforthcoming military cadet earlier. Don’t think I didn’t appreciate it. I, too, am wary of a few of our commissioned officers. It’s almost as if we’re dealing with warlords and not soldiers. I sometimes wonder where their true loyalty resides.”

Khameleon smiled “Likewise, Princess. Thank you.”

Mileena continued; a thought was nagging at her. “I have to ask though. This terrorist Zaterran? He was like you. That is to say, he was a shapeshifter. Up until now, I assumed you were unique among your people. Aren’t you at all curious about this ‘Syzoth’ and his provenance?”

“To speak freely, your Highness. No. He harmed my Princess, my sisters in arms, and my closest comrade.” She looked to Tanya and affectionally tapped her shoulder. “All curiosity is forfeit.” Khameleon then leaned closer to Mileena’s ear. “Umgadi rules of engagement or not, I promise I will find the Zaterran that did this. And when I do, I’ll flay his limbs, cut off his fucking head, and bring it to you on a platter. His bones will be Vaktor fodder.” She smiled slyly at Mileena and turned to Tanya. “May I begin the pursuit?” Tanya nodded. And thus, the Zaterran Umgadi made her way down the hall. Before she turned the corner, she camouflaged. The hunt had commenced.

With Khameleon’s departure, Tanya quietly shut the door and breathed wearily. Even though Kitana wasn’t sleeping in a traditional sense, it was difficult for the Umgadi to break from her established practice of attentive courtesy. Almost instantaneously after the door clicked, Mileena launched herself at her bodyguard and kissed her deeply. The elder princess was markedly less attentive to chivalric mores. “My dearest. I’m so terribly sorry for leaving you by the fountain. I can only plead forgiveness.”

Tanya held her with more alacrity than Mileena thought possible, she was nearly lifted off her feet. “There’s nothing to forgive, Princess.”

Mileena kissed her once more. This time more playfully. “Do you think Khameleon’s hunt will be successful?”

“She has a better chance than any of us; but, if you want my dreadful honesty, no. My theory is that this attack is the first salvo in a greater war. But…” she squeezed Mileena’s hand, “I do pray that she finds the insurgent. I have the sense we’ll be seeing more Earthrealmers in our midst soon.”

Mileena shuddered at the thought.

Tanya turned and walked toward the lofty oriel window, and nearly stepped onto the contiguous, marbled balcony. The purple night of Outworld was dark and deep, but the lights of Shiva Ranatai still burned bright in the harbor of Sun Do; a small illumination in the eldritch shadows of twilight. The ocean’s horizon was briefly lit by distant lightning and Tanya smiled. Despite her expression, when she turned her head, Mileena could see in Tanya’s eyes what a long, tortuous and torturous day it had been for her. Still, the Umgadi smiled. She didn’t complain. She didn’t lament. She didn’t sulk. She only said, “I’m so glad to see you. And I’m delighted to watch you and Khameleon get along so well.” There was no one else like Tanya. Her spirit was unbreakable.

Mileena walked across the red carpet. Lightly pacing as she spoke. It was a longstanding habit; one that her mother fruitlessly tried to break her of when she was young. She clarified, “Khameleon and I share a certain sensibility. I appreciate her quiet cynicism and understated sardonic wit. It keeps my intellect agile. Keeps me clever. I relish Outworlders with intuition, but I especially like an Umgadi that can speak her mind…as you know.”

Tanya laughed. “You both share the same sense of humor more like it. I swear the two of you are going to drive me mad. And if that doesn’t cause it, perhaps Kitana’s recklessness will. I still cannot believe your sister shrugged me off and rushed into kombat like that.” Arms akimbo, Tanya looked up to the opulent frescoes on the ceiling and sighed before looking back at Mileena. “She’s a fearless and inventive warrior, but also hopelessly sheltered in some ways. We knew nothing of that enemy. She could have been killed. She should have known better. She does know better. I know she considers me a friend, but I’m going to need to talk to her seriously about this. I can’t be her shield if she evades my protection. It was frighteningly impulsive. Your mother will be…”

Mileena swiftly interrupted. “Impulsive?” Tanya’s use of the expression astonished her. She had never thought about attributing that word to her sister. She, the eldest daughter, was the impulsive one. That’s the way it always was. Even as children, if Kitana was being reprimanded by her father, Mileena was almost certainly right beside her. The eternal instigator. Mileena was the one that knocked senseless the Prince of Makeba for making a gauche jest about Kitana; Mileena was the one who frequently snuck out of the palace to cavort with commoners; Mileena was the one who felt too much. She was the radical nonconformist that was always in pursuit of adventure and excitement. Not that Kitana didn’t like breaking rules with Mileena on occasion. But impulsive? Kitana was a creature of reason.

“Absolutely.” Tanya looked at Mileena with confusion as to why she was even asking. It was as if her statement had been self-evident. Her eyes suddenly looked amused and she continued. “She’s as bad as you are. The two of you can be unbelievably foolhardy and stubborn. Don’t get me wrong. Normally, it’s quite endearing. But tonight…not so much.” She turned back to the oriel window’s purple darkness.

“But everyone says I’m the impulsive twin. Those are the whispers at court. I can’t elude them. They don’t talk about ‘Mileena, the empath with a deep well of compassion’, or ‘Mileena, the proficient swordswoman’, or ‘Mileena, the chic dresser with elegant sartorial taste.’ No. They talk of ‘Sindel’s eldest daughter always in a state of passion and frenzy.’ ‘The hysterical one.’ ‘The one likely to give her mother a stroke.’ ‘The one that’s a terrible influence on her twin.’ ‘The anarchist.’ ‘The subversive.’ ‘The iconoclast.’ ‘The one that’…” Mileena walked to Tanya by the oriel window and looked out into the night with her. She took a deep breath. “It’s no secret. They don’t think I’m equipped to lead, and, worse, I’m starting to believe them. Maybe my elder status is just an accident of nature. Perhaps Kitana should circumvent me and rule the Empire.”

Tanya interrupted her discourse with a soft kiss. “Enough about what ‘everyone’ says. Enough of the existential angst. We’ve talked about this in a different context. Believe in yourself, my treasure. Believe in yourself the way you believe in me. By Delia’s sacred light, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” She kissed her once more and removed her beloved’s ceremonial diadem. She tossed it on the wingback chair, and put her hand through Mileena’s hair, helping it fall to her shoulders. “And in answer to your question, yes, she’s just like you. It might manifest divergently at times, but you’re definitely twins. And it’s not just your appearance. You two are birds of feather. Strange birds; but unquestionably birds of a feather. It’s so odd to me that neither of you can see that.”

Mileena turned to look at her sister, unconscious on the silken sheets of her bed, softly breathing.

“I was so furious with her earlier tonight. On some level, I still am. It’s an onerous effort to even put into words what I’m feeling.”

Tanya stepped out onto the balcony and Mileena followed. “I know; or rather, I don’t know the minutiae of what happened between you, but your sister was extremely upset. She seemed like she wanted to tell me something. She looked on the verge of tears; but everything went sideways before she could get the words out. In retrospect, I think a part of her was glad the Zaterran appeared. It was a channel. It allowed her to feel something different than what was plaguing her.” Tanya sighed. “Whatever happened, I hope the two of you can work through it. I hate it when you and your sister are in conflict.”

A cool ocean breeze blew across Mileena’s face. “Are we that dramatic?”

“Well, that and there’s the inevitable dance of sisterhood.” Mileena raised her eyebrow in response; it was a clarion signal for her beloved to elaborate. “There’s a patterned melodrama that slowly unfolds every time there’s strife with you two. Initially, neither of you want to speak, so you both just brood in your rooms. Brood might be an understatement. There’s an excessive amount of pacing, scowling, and flamboyant grousing. Then, after a few hours, you both independently vent your various grievances to me. It’s always very clear at this point that the two of you are both desperate to make up, but are too proud to admit it. So, you sublimate your emotions. You leave your rooms and see each other in the halls or in the gardens. You glower, avoid eye contact, remain in a state of snit. Then, inevitably, one of you sees something humorous or reads something that you’re desperate to share with the other. One of you apprehensively approaches the other, you laugh, you smile, you reconcile, interlock arms, and don’t leave each other’s side for weeks.”

Mileena rested against the stone balustrade and put her head in her hands. “My gods, hearing it scripted like that is mortifying. You must have a journal or something. That’s alarmingly meticulous.”

Tanya laughed and shook her head. “It might be the extra two of years of living; or, more likely, the comfortable wisdom that comes with being an observer. I’m not a twin. At least, I don’t think I’m a twin. I don’t experience the separation anxiety the two of you have. I only bear witness to it as an amused spectator.”

Mileena gripped Tanya’s hand. “Even when I’m livid at her, I can’t stop thinking about our bond. It makes me feel so vulnerable. I wonder if she feels the same way. I know I’m the last one that has a right to complain, but this hasn’t been an easy night for the sister that left the stage either.”

“Believe me, I was aware of it the second I saw you on the boardwalk. I could read it on your face. I can still read it on your face. I know my beloved, and I know when she’s profoundly distressed. Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to return to your private chambers tonight? You would have time to yourself and could rest and dream. After what happened this morning during your treatment…I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I can watch over Kitana myself, or even assign Leisa or Hiziza to serve as sentry.”

Mileena thought about her private chambers. Her ruby-colored sheets, the soft pillows, her adorable cat likely already curled up beneath the canopy. She thought about her own oriel window, ivied balcony, and view of the ocean. Darkness visible. She considered the mountains of tomes inelegantly stacked on her night table, and considered Kitana’s immaculately ordered escritoire. The contrast made her smile. She then looked over at Kitana, lightly bruised, her arm bandaged, and still unconscious. The smile slowly dimmed.

“I…” all of a sudden Mileena felt something wet on her face. “What is this? Is there something…”

“You’re crying.”

Mileena sighed as she realized the quantity of large tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. “This is so embarrassing. Why does she always cause this reaction from me?” The question was rhetorical, but the way she looked at Tanya seemed to impel an answer, a coherent reason, or some kind of explanation for what was happening. Tanya could only respond in three words.

“She’s your sister.”

Through tears Mileena replied in a gracious, but wistful way. It was as if she was a stage actress trying to recall her monologue. “I know.” She took a deep breath and looked back out at the night landscape. Sun Do harbor’s strange numinous beauty, ancient and marvelous, gazed back at her. She sighed and turned back to Tanya. “I sometimes think it would be better to not feel like this.”

“My Princess, take it from someone who deals with ascetics every time I visit the Temple. It’s infinitely better to feel too much than not at all.”

“But losing…” She wrapped her arms around Tanya. “She’s lucky to be alive. If I lost her…, what would I have done? Who would I even be?” She began to wonder if it would be better not to love at all than to love and lose. “I can’t master the art of losing. I’ve tried to convince myself that loss is quotidian, that things seem filled with the intent to get lost: A broken watch, a misplaced earring, an hour badly spent. I used to repeat to myself over and over, ‘losing isn’t too hard to master.’ But the qualifier ‘too’ belies my whole drift. I can’t stop myself. I’ve always known, in the most visceral way, that I cannot accept loss. Losing you, losing mother, losing Kitana. The thought of it fills me with an angst so profound that it nearly bifurcates my soul from my ego. I’m battling myself. The thought itself is a trauma. I genuinely try to believe I fear nothing, like an Umgadi; but then something like tonight happens, like the night father died, and I feel terribly exposed. Like a fraud. I haven’t mastered loss. I haven’t mastered anything. And, in the end, I just feel like a small, helpless creature trapped under a bell jar. Tanya, please tell me that loss has meaning beyond this.”

Tanya continued to hold her beloved Princess as she spoke. When she finished, she kissed her and raised her chin close to her own. “Grief. The transcendent need to have tears. It is the most profound love there is, Mileena. It’s the closest we come to ascent. The Priestesses of Delia won’t tell you that, of course. It’s too secular a notion for them. They would call me a heretic, but I suppose there’s a few things that would make me heretical. But I will not apologize for those things. Grief is the final stage of love; it’s the apogee of love. The feeling you have is a good feeling, Mileena. It completes the cycle of love. It’s the feeling of absolute empathy. An empathy that allows you not to transcend from outside, but from within. To feel grief is to master the art of losing. Look at your sister, Mileena.” Mileena turned her eyes back to Kitana, still sleeping. “She’s alive, my dearest. Try to remember that. It is time for you to exit the world of the dead and re-join us in the world of the living.”

Mileena turned her sad, weary eyes back to her beloved Umgadi. “I…think I understand Tanya. You’re right. I’m sorry for…I don’t even know what I’m sorry for. But I’m sorry anyway. I need to be with her tonight. Or rather, now I’m aware as to why I need to be with her tonight.” She lowered her face as if she had confessed some terrible transgression, but Tanya simply interlocked her hands with Mileena’s.

“I know, and now you know. Take care of her. You know she thinks the world of you. From what I’ve gleaned from your mother, she has always looked up to you.” Tanya leaned in to kiss Mileena once more before walking to the front of the balcony, her face bathed in moonlight. “And I understand; you need to be alone with her.”

“I think you’re right. How did you know? I was still trying to formulate the words.”

Tanya took a step toward Mileena and put her hand through her beloved’s hair once more, finger combing and watching the strands fall to her shoulders. “Because I can read you like a text. ‘There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.’ You’re not the only one who can recite poetry, Princess. I can feel your trepidation, your unease, and your enduring angst.”

Mileena held Tanya once more, and her bodyguard uttering joyous leaves looked into her watery eyes.

“‘Let them know your scarlet heat—let them glisten; Saturate them with yourself, all ashamed and wet; Glow upon all I have written or shall write, bleeding drops; Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.’ I hope I quoted that one correctly.” She laughed and Mileena smiled.

“It was perfect. It’s one thing to know the words, but you speak them with a pure sincerity that cannot be taught. In another life, Tanya, you could have been a rhapsodist or a troubadour.”

“Don’t be ludicrous, my Princess. I prefer this life. I’d have never met you if I spent my days composing lyrics.” She released herself from Mileena’s embrace, but kept ahold of her hands. “Don’t be ashamed of passion, Mileena. Not ever. It’s your greatest strength. It’s who you are. And it’s why I adore you so completely. I’ll be outside, my love. Just barely down the hall. Do not hesitate to call for me.” And with that, Tanya walked to the door, smiled at Mileena, and exited Kitana’s chambers.

The great wooden door closed. And then… Silence.

Mileena stood and dreamily stared at the lion-emblemed door for nearly a minute. She slowly walked to the wingback chair, picked up her Shiva Ranatai diadem, absent-mindedly inspected its silvered apertures, and delicately placed it on the ornate armoire adjacent to Kitana’s walk-in wardrobe. In doing so, something bright and magenta caught her eye. On closer examination, it was her silk nightgown, with its paired red robe replete with gold-dragon embroidery. Evidently, Kitana had raided her closet a few nights ago and neglected to tell her. It wasn’t atypical; this was far from the first time she’d found one of her robes in Kitana’s closet. In point of fact, Mileena knew if she entered her own chambers, and inspected her vast wardrobe, she’d find quite a few of Kitana’s garments. It was a matter of sharing…and, often, convenience. Not all sisters shared everything, but these two did.

Mileena laughed. “I wondered where you went. I was looking for you all last week.” She accidentally expressed her sentiment aloud; but it was when she said those words that she suddenly realized how deeply uncomfortable her ceremonial attire felt on her skin. As if it was a violent reflex, she kicked off her imprisoning heels. She lost two inches of height, but gained miles of comfort. Then she began to remove her theatrical lantern festival costume, and slipped on her silk nightgown and shawl. The moment she cinched her robe she felt rejuvenated, but it wasn’t quite enough to fully revitalize her.

For that, she walked to Kitana’s cosmetic cabinet. Reaching behind the various ablutions, she pulled a small latch that revealed a hidden panel. There, it was. The drawer Kitana kept her secret bottle of wine. Kitana didn’t like the idea of servants, Umgadi, and especially her mother knowing that she would sometimes have a glass to take the edge off…usually before sleep. Mileena, of course, knew about it. It was impossible for her twin to keep anything from her. She examined the label. “The ’27. My gods, my sister is a secret sybarite.” She grabbed the bottle and an empty glass and helped herself. Surely Kitana wouldn’t mind sharing her excellent wine. She walked back to the wingback chair with her newfound courage, and took a seat. There, she sipped from her glass, and surveyed the room. Her knee was shaking with anxiety. There was something about being alone with her sister…after everything that happened tonight. For nearly thirty minutes, Mileena sat, drank, reflected, and worried.

And Kitana continued to slumber. She lay motionless like a concrete testament to Mileena’s overly sensitive nature. A cool breeze came in from the balcony, and Mileena, fearing Kitana would catch a chill, stood up and closed the wooden, sliding door to the terrace. By the shelf, near the oriel window, something silver caught her eye. It was Kitana’s friendship earring. Tanya must have placed it there when they were changing her sister’s clothes. Mileena felt her own earring. They were a pair. Two earrings for the right side. A clandestine prize from a puzzle box gifted to the twins by their doting father. It was the last birthday gift they received from him before he passed. “Solve this puzzle together, girls. Kitana, be sure to take extra care that your sister helps you; I know you have a tendency to get overexcited with riddles. This particular puzzle box is meant to be to solved by two close friends together. The reward will reflect your intimacy and bond. I can’t wait for you two to discover it.” And, as always, he was correct. After weeks of struggling, bickering, and racking their brains, the two of them liberated their prize. Inside were two earrings. Not a set, but a pair of right-ear accents designed for two different people. The closest of friends. Sisters.

The memory came alive in Mileena’s mind. She vividly recalled Kitana’s excited expression upon unlocking the box. She was literally bouncing with joy. “I’ll take this one with the gentle, smoothed-edge, but I think this other one with the adornment like an iridescent raven’s wing would look amazing on you, sister.” Kitana had placed the earring in Mileena’s hand, and the rest was history. The two earrings became a symbol of their camaraderie and sisterhood. Their father was right; he always was. Kitana and Mileena rarely took them off. But, seeing as how Kitana’s trinket was already alone on the shelf, Mileena removed her own earring and placed it beside her sister’s. Perhaps both earrings needed a rest. Needed company.

She sighed and looked across the room. On the wall hung an enormous tapestry depicting a historical subject of great interest to Kitana. The Coronation of Empress Kitsune. The woven art illustrated this signal event that heralded Outworld’s emergence from the Dark Ages. At the center of the tapestry was the sun-wreathed First Matron of the Umgadi raising the imperial crown over Kitsune’s head in Sun Do’s antediluvian basilica, all but ready to crown her the first Empress of Outworld. Kitsune herself was glittering with jewels, but her enigmatic expression was troubling to the viewer. Ambiguous to the point of exasperation. Was it jubilation or grief? Detachment or stoicism?

Despite the elusive tapestry, Kitsune was the twins’ favorite heroine from antiquity. Mileena would never forget the madman thousands of years ago; the one who sneaked into the throne room and screamed to Sindel and all her court that her daughters were the mystical reincarnation of the ancient sovereign: the Empress that defeated the Dark Kahns and united the Empire. Sindel was frustrated by the security breach, but Mileena, still in her adolescence, thought it was a ludicrous conjecture to begin with. She believed it was dangerous to indulge in messianic “chosen one” narratives (even if in the madman’s hypothesis it was a “chosen two”). Reincarnation was simply rubbish. Mileena believed you lived only one life. And, thus, that life was immensely sacred. There wouldn’t be another. And when you passed, an individual consciousness would dissipate into the greater cosmos; back from whence it came like grains of sand on an immense beach. A thousand years after the madman’s ravings, Mileena still felt the same way. Though, she suddenly realized she’d never asked Kitana what she felt about it.

Kitana…there were things to talk about with Kitana. But it wasn’t regarding Kitsune.

Mileena slowly approached the bed. And with halting speech she began her soliloquy to her somnolent sister. It was very different than the one she had ideated while exiting the Hanging Gardens. “Kitty, I need to talk about this. And I know you aren’t the most available listener right now. I honestly hope you’re dreaming of a better world…but…I have to try and justify what happened tonight; I want to know for myself, and be able to confidently state that what I did and felt can be rationalized. That it wasn’t just emotional delirium. And, I don’t know who else to say it to. I can’t talk to anyone else about this. Not even Tanya. Maybe especially not Tanya.”

She sighed and tried to unify her thoughts and evade linguistic solecisms. “Maybe if I just lay it all out to you now, and tell you how I feel, truth will reveal itself. I know you can’t hear me, but…perhaps in saying how I feel I’ll be able to glean something from it. I’ve told you everything my entire life. It wasn’t until I saw your broken body on the boardwalk that I…” She turned and looked out the oriel window. “I couldn’t bear it, sister. I just…I don’t want to fight with you anymore. Just let me say a few things…and we’ll never speak of it again.”

She poured another glass of the ’27 and took a sip.

“Mendacity. Do you know what that means, Kitana? It means a lack of honesty; falsehood. I’ve been thinking a lot about mendacity lately.” She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Do you remember when we were children and we planned our weddings? You always said that we needed to get married on the same day; you in the morning, and me at twilight. That way, we wouldn’t turn our respective ceremonies into an unnecessary competition.” She laughed. “You were so sensitive and caring even then. We’d have our little tea parties, and you’d clutch your heart and say, ‘At midnight, our two handsome princes will whisk us onto the dance floor and the whole kingdom will be in awe at what we will become.’ My gods, your imagination was enthralling. I still kind of want to believe it could have worked.”

“Because, of course, it wouldn’t have worked. Despite the utopic waltz you engendered in both of our inexperienced minds, I’m sure we’d still have come up with some method to squabble and drive each other mad in the planning of this geminated wedding; or, alternatively, we’d get so overexcited and happy on behalf of each other that we’d forget our own nuptial rites and bridal obligations. You know it’s true; we can’t have our weddings devolve into an incongruous farce. ‘Marriage is a vital institution’ as mother always says. Notice the operative word, Kitana. Institution. It implies rubrics. We Outworlders are committed to institutions in the same way a husband and a wife commit to each other. I never told you this, but I’ve always been a bit terrified of marriage on some deep, primordial level. Don’t laugh (thank the gods you can’t hear this), but during my adolescence I thought of marriage like a prison; a condition of slavery, like being condemned to a private, domestic dungeon. Another institution one is committed to. I often wonder if I developed this philosophy because of mother.”

She halted her speech and walked to the mirror, picked up one of Kitana’s brushes, and began to straighten her hair. “I’m not talking about her marriage, of course. Mother loved father. Or rather, loves father. She’s still devoted to him. I…still hear her weep for him on some nights, especially during the months of autumn. I know you’ve heard it too. They were a perfect match, and they were unquestionably our role models for what love looks like. And yet…do you ever get the sense mother hates all this? Not our Royal House, not her people, not her privilege or prestige, just the…what’s the word I’m looking for?” She paused for a moment. “Immateriality. Do you ever get the sense she is repelled by the immateriality of all this? Li Mei once confided in me many years ago that our beloved mother felt holding court was like stepping into an irreal universe. She understood the gravity of her verdicts, pronouncements, and actions, but she felt alienated from herself. As the years go by, I’m starting to understand that more and more.”

Mileena stopped brushing her hair and looked back at Kitana’s silent dreaming. “By the gods, I’m turning into mother. The abject horror of it! Please don’t repeat what I just said. It’s terribly embarrassing.” She then finished off her libation and poured another full glass.

“‘In the end, we all commit ourselves’, that’s what I said to myself back in my juvenility. Whether to an asylum or to another person. We imprison ourselves. ‘It is inevitable’, I thought. I was quite the fatalistic iconoclast, sister, as you know. I was proud of it. Father used to call me his ‘little anarchist’; can you believe that? That’s the thing about father. He always had a way of making you laugh by just the slightest turn of phrase. He could size a person up, get to the heart of their being, and then still frame it as a jest. He knew how to read people, but he really knew us. I was the rebel, and you were the ‘cinnamon roll’. Did he ever call you that to your face? I’m sorry, Kitty, but it’s a remarkable summation of you.” She took a sip of her new drink. “I miss him so terribly. So completely. I suppose I also find myself crying during the months of autumn when I think about him.”

She took a deep breath, leaned on the winged side of Kitana’s reading chair, and, with some element of rehearsed affectation, drank from her new glass. She was slowly, ever so slightly, feeling its effect. “So, yes, I was his ‘little anarchist’, and for a little agitator like me, it was the perfect way to encapsulate my being. It was a title I deserved. I skirted the rules of the palace, was constantly getting into mischief with my cinnamon-infused sister, declined to learn proper royal etiquette, and I genuinely thought courtly love was a bit of a joke.”

“But then…everything changed.” She walked to the closed wooden door of the balcony; moonlight peered in through the slatted blinds and colored Mileena’s face in luminous shadows. “I met her. Our stalwart protector and bodyguard.”

Mileena took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She wondered if her sister would dream about her words. “Kitana,” she said her name as if there would be a response. She knew there wouldn’t be one, but it had become a habit. “I’m sure you think this is some kind of fling. A seasonal dalliance.” She sighed and turned around and faced the canopied bed. “It isn’t. Kitty, I like women, but I love Tanya.” Had she really just said that? She had said the word “love” to Tanya. Many times, in fact; but, somehow, saying it aloud to Kitana like this made it feel more viscerally real. “It’s strange,” she wondered. “Maybe I subconsciously avoided saying it in the plainest language until I could say it in front of you.”

“But you do understand, right? I love her, Kitana. I would lay down my life for her. I want to hang banners from my ivied balcony in a language I know only she can decipher. When I look into her eyes, I feel my soul and body pilgrimage, side by side, across the void to a forest of spiritual resurrection. When I see her face, I know the eternal war of my heart is over and I’m free. All the epiphanies, theologies, the academic gibberish, it collapses into illuminated ecstasies. Her heart must have been constructed by some ancient seraphim; I am eternally hers. Sister, I am telling you, she is the one.”

“I guess I really am transcendently in love with her. My gods, speaking this aloud to another person…it’s freeing.” She laughed to herself, a slightly eccentric one. “Leave it to Milly, right? Everything with me has to be a mess. It just can never be a straightforward level-headed relation. I swear to you I don’t mean to be this way. I know you know I’m not truly a drama queen, but I really thought this was one area that mother would be proud of me, you know? Love. Finding a partner. She’s always told us, ‘Follow your heart.’ Well, I did. So, a salute to me. And a salute to women! Never again shall I be forced to listen to aggravating barons and their vexing requests! Here is to all the women of our realm, and every realm. To the princesses and countesses, to the Umgadi, to those youths in a narcotic haze in Sun Do’s dark alleys, to the wretched spinsters of Z'Unkahrah, to those women who are invisible, catatonic, or in a purgatory of marriage, to the daughters of Outworld still learning who they are – I salute you.” She drank from her glass and placed it on Kitana’s writing desk. No coaster, of course.

“And we both know mother is going to absolutely hate this. I believe she had hopes for a prince, an archduke, or even a high mage to welcome into the Royal House.” She laughed and shook her head. “So, I suppose, I should celebrate my accursed transgressions. Let the echoes ring with our indecent calls! A heretical love more immortal than the stars!” She picked up her glass once more. “To Tanya. Our magnificent, enchanting Umgadi. The woman who saved your life tonight, and the woman I intend to spend the rest of mine alongside.” She finished her libation.

Her mirth suddenly faded. “But all love goes by water to the sea. This is the terrible spirituality of love, Kitty. The cruelty of hope that briefly stirs like a fragile violet only to be violently and tragically dashed and shattered. And how anything beautiful or unique in this world is hopelessly delicate and doomed to be crushed.” Mileena thought back to the First Line of the parade earlier that night, the Roz-Isleth effigy, and her sister’s acerbic words. She felt the side of her face, her teeth under her lips, and remembered the nightmares of the morning. Some of her rage from earlier in the evening reemerged.

“What you said to me, Kitana…we have to talk about it. It was violent. It wounded me. Terribly. My abrasions aren’t physical like yours, but the scars you left need healing. All night, I’ve been thinking what to say, and I fear I’ve failed to illuminate any clear truth. As per usual, I’m being diffuse and needlessly florid. It’s a weakness. Tangent upon tangent upon tangent. It’s the way I speak, sister, I can’t help it. You know this. Even the simplest question requires an avalanche of elucidation and digression. So, instead, let me use your unadorned words.” She did her best impression of her twin. She wasn’t mocking her voice; it was more an attempt to capture the spirit of the moment that had passed. “I lamented that the Umgadi rules are ridiculous and you said I can change them when I take the crown; ‘For now, you cannot jeopardize your ascension.’ Your succinct phrasing, Kitana. When you said those words, did you reflect on their absolute meaning? Or did you just say them without thinking? Could you have known what you were implying? We need to attempt to resolve this and capture the essence of your words. Seeing as how you’re indisposed, and already said your piece, I’ll have to clarify my feelings. My perspective.”

She began to pace across the ornate crimson rugs that embellished the center of Kitana’s extravagant bedchamber. “I think you’re in denial, sister. When will that ascension be, exactly? Script out for me how long I should plan on stifling my emotions and desires. You see, I have this problem, sister. It’s passion. I have something screaming inside of me, frantic to get out. Do you have any idea what that’s like, Kitana? I’ve always wondered if you do. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you don’t care to know. I always hoped that when you learned about my relationship with Tanya, you’d understand. That you’d truly get it. That you’d be the ally I desperately needed. The one you’ve always been in my imagination and in every other aspect of my life. Instead, you glared at me like mother and censured me. ‘Entanglements with Umgadi are forbidden.’” She scoffed. “What do you think this is, sister? A fling? Your elder sister, Mileena, just being impetuous? Do you really think that lowly of me after everything we’ve been through together? I said it once, but I’ll say it a thousand times now. I need to say it. I am in love with her. Do you understand that? I want to spend the rest of my existence with her. And the gods only know how long a time that will be…”

“And that’s the catch. There’s always a twist. Time. I’ve spent my entire life counterfeiting eternity. Think about our time together sister. Our stargazing, our seaside walks, our sisterly soirees, our endless nights filled with laughter, optimism, and exuberance. It’s all slowly fading away, isn’t it? Do you feel it too? Or have you repressed it?”

Mileena ceased her pacing and sighed. “‘Your illness is your fault.’ That’s mother’s grim refrain, isn’t it? How many times has she said it at this point? I’ve always been a bit too sensitive to say this to you directly before, but I don’t particularly like that sentiment. Shocking, right? I wish she wouldn’t say it. It’s unbecoming of an Empress, and cruel as a mother. We can’t blame people for their ailments, Kitana. We can’t stigmatize disease. Everything is psychosomatic to mother, apparently. It’s a weakness of will and a moral flaw in her view.” Mileena ran her hand through her hair. “That said, I’m not mad at mother. Would you like to know why? It’s related to Truth. That ever-elusive capital-T Truth. You see, my illness is breaking mother apart. She needs someone to blame because she can’t bear to acknowledge that these things happen for no reason and are completely out of our control. What happened to me could just as easily have happened to her. But there is one fact that she will not countenance. The one unspeakable thing. I dare not say it to her. Despite our disputes, I love her too dearly. If I said it aloud, I don’t know if she’d recover. But you’re different, sister. You have to hear it. And if I can’t say it to her, I’ll say it to you…”

“My death is safe.”

“When mother castigated me after the Earthrealm banquet, I was in a bad way. She was right. It wasn’t nothing. The pain at the feast was excruciating. I remember storming off to a balcony after my rebuke and screaming. I’m glad you weren’t there for it. They were mad screams, almost as if they had come from a collective entity rather than from myself. In the moment, I felt alienated from my own body. They were emotional, physical, existential, spiritual…I don’t even know what else. Was I being immature? Screaming from a tower instead of suppressing my anguish? Maybe, but we both know mother does it too.” She smiled. “There it is again. Damnit. I hate that I take after her.” She looked at the slumbering Kitana. “Not you though. You’re like father. You’re the peacemaker, the intermediary, a coolheaded arbiter. But you know something? That night, in the midst of the tournament, I really needed you to not be a mediator. I needed you to stand up for me. I didn’t need a peacemaker. I needed my sister. My identical twin. Do you recall what you said to try and mitigate mother’s wrath? You grabbed my hand (as you always do when you’re worried I’ll do something rash) and said, ‘If your disease becomes known, you will be banished.’ Again, these are your words. I’m not embellishing.”

Mileena put her hands on her hips and breathed deeply. “You failed to say a certain word, sister, and it’s a consequential one. ‘Tarkat.’ That’s the word you refused to voice. It’s the word you always refuse to say. Replaced with a euphemism. Do you think if you speak the word, it will conjure its existence? Mendacity, Kitana. Falsehood. We have to speak the reality. The word must be said. Neither of us can avoid it. Especially me. I know you can’t bear to say it because of its Truth. If you say it, you’ll have to acknowledge what it means.” She sighed and approached Kitana. Her younger sister continued to dream and breathe deeply. Mileena whispered as if it were a forbidden secret. “It means Death. There will be no ascension.”

With a wistful expression, she continued. “Don’t feel too guilty. I suppose I even lie to myself about it. I work myself into nervous frenzies over the whisperers at court. The ones who say I shouldn’t be mother’s heir. It’s just another form of denial. I know, deep down, that it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be Empress.” She sat down in the chair adjacent to Kitana’s bed.

She looked at her sister’s night table and at the various healing crystals and cosmetic ablutions adorning it. “I don’t think you understand, sister. Or, maybe you understand intellectually, but I don’t think you understand emotionally. I am going to die. And it’s going to happen soon. We don’t have another ten thousand years. We aren’t going to grow old together.” Mileena suddenly felt a tear escape her eye, but she caught it and steeled herself. She had to remain strong. “Believe me, I hate this. I always dreamed we’d be just as close as old ladies as we are now, you know? Can you feel it?" She lightly held her sister’s weak, irresilient hand. “It’s strange. In my imagination, I always pictured us living in a rural cottage. Elderly, but still elegant. Sitting on a rustic porch. A soft breeze coming through the trees. The sublime mountains painting the landscape with warmth. A game of cards in front of us. I suppose we abdicated our royal responsibilities in my fantasy? I’m not sure what that signifies.”

She laughed, but there was deep melancholic timbre buried within. “You lectured me about ‘my ascension’ being jeopardized. I suppose I’ve just lectured you. Keep asking yourself, Kitana: What ascension? If, Delia forbid, Mother dies this week, how long do you think my reign would last? Sorry, sister, but I won’t be able to sit on that rustic porch with you. This disease…Tarkat…it’s going to kill me. Worse. It’s going to disfigure, debilitate, and ultimately take my mind. I’ll die slowly and horribly. After the feast, you said, I could be ‘banished’…” She sighed, released Kitana’s hand, and leaned in close to her ear. “Sister, I will be banished. These treatments aren’t a long-term panacea. The events of this morning prove it. The alchemical serum is failing. I’m losing control. It’s happening gradually, but it is happening. It’s only a matter of time. The throne will be yours. You’re going to have to start thinking about that. Are you ready? Do you finally understand why what you said to me was so hurtful? Do you grasp the significance of your words? I don’t have time to wait for revising Umgadi rubrics and inaugurating new legislation to validate my bond with Tanya. Again, I. Will. Die. And soon. Do you understand what you were advising me to do? You were telling me to stifle my emotions forever. To never experience love before Tarkat takes my emotions away too. Tanya understands this. Why can’t you?”

She leaned back in her chair and steadied her breathing. “I’m tired of mendacity, Kitana. I can’t cloister my feelings any longer; perhaps I should have told you about this a long time ago; but, I suppose, it’s better late than never. I’m not giving up on Tanya. You will have to accept my heart’s desire. All I’m asking of you is to be the ally and supporter you’ve always been. Please, help me shed this mendacity. I can’t be hiding my Tarkat and my love simultaneously. It’s an impossible dynamic to maintain. Something has to give. There’s an abyss opening up underneath me; a reality chasm. I need help. I’m falling. I’m asking you to give me ballast as you always have.”

Mileena stood up and held the columnar footpost at the base of Kitana’s bed. She leaned against it, never taking her eyes off her sleeping sister. “And I know what they say about me. ‘Mileena the walking impulse persona. Mileena who feels too much. Sensitive Mileena. Firebrand Mileena. But you know the real me, right? Mileena who would cross the desert naked in the night to save her loved ones.” She laughed. “The Mileena who’s a sore loser and a sore winner. The Mileena that you bicker with, but who loves you dearly. The Mileena who can’t imagine a day without you. The Mileena who would give up her life to bring her father back. The Mileena who would gladly do so to make sure you never again awoke in the witching hour in tears screaming for him.”

She paused and took a deep breath. “That night you followed me out of the castle, when the deranged Tarkat-infected vagrant attacked us, and I stood in front of you, and he penetrated me with his blade. I want you to know…”

She approached her sister and sat on the bed. Holding her hand once more. “If I could do that moment all over again. I would do it the exact same. It’s strange. Mother never asked how you came upon me that dreadful night. Maybe she doesn’t want to know; but I know why you were there. You noticed I was gone, and you followed. Like you always do. You’re always looking out for me. And so, I did the same. And I will continue to do the same. For as long as I can. But you have to stop searching for me…for I am now tied to the shadows of eternity.”

She gently squeezed her sister’s hand. “I know that this will be hard for you. We came into this world together. And, it doesn’t help that we were such morbid children. Do you remember when we were very young, and you were scared of dying, and asked me if we could die together as old ladies so that you wouldn’t have to pass on from this world alone?” Mileena laughed. “I told you that I’d make sure we’d grow old together.”

Her steeled expression was beginning to falter. A tear escaped her eye and she sniveled. Only once. “Well, I guess I really messed that up. I mess a lot of things up. But that might be the worst. I’ll die…and you’ll have to go on. Others wouldn’t understand, but I know how hard that will be for you. Because I know it’d be impossible for me.”

She felt the tears on her face. “My gods, I’m really crying. One glass of wine is all it takes, I swear. I start bawling over the littlest thing. Of course. I know you know that. You’re the same way.” She delicately moved a few strands of hair away from her sister’s face.

On the shelf, near the oriel window, Mileena caught a glimpse of the two silver earrings. Side by side. They glinted in the moonlight. A sudden realization hit her. Prudence. She considered the difficulty of speaking Truth. How hard it had been to say all of this to her sister; perhaps, Kitana was going through something similar on the lantern festival’s stage? Maybe she struggled to find the right words too? Her heart may have been full of love and…

“Oh, Kitana! I’m sorry!”

Like a miracle, Kitana opened her eyes. And she softly replied. “No, sister, I’m sorry.”

Both of their expressions became radiant with wonder and elation. It was as if a fire had just been kindled in their hearts. All weariness and worry were gone from Mileena in an instant. Kitana’s face was suddenly bright and full of life. It was taking all of their self-control not to tackle each other in a mad fit of jubilation. For a moment, they just stood like marble statues in disbelief.

Beaming with happiness, the sisters finally spoke in unison. “I was so worried about you!” And at that, they collapsed into a frenzy of laughter.

“Let me get you some water!” Mileena rushed over to the cabinet and poured the contents of a pitcher into an empty wine glass. She then returned to the bed and handed over the water to Kitana.

“Thank you.” The younger princess drank in great gulps, and when she finished, she inspected the gauze on her arm. As expected, she was slightly disconcerted about being in her white slip, but Mileena was hardly someone she felt embarrassed around.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll have Chef Skarlet make your favorite breakfast: A cinnamon roll with extra icing, a hot croissant, a slice of jammed baguette, and a delicate coffee. I’ll bring it to you. I’ll look after you. I’ll protect you like a proper Umgadi.” She knew Kitana loved her sugar, and she would never judge her sister’s preferences. “But, how are you feeling right now?” Mileena sat back down on the bed and grasped her younger twin’s hand once more. This time she could feel it was full of zest and resilience.

Kitana unveiled a roguish smile. “Not bad. I had a thought-provoking, mellifluous monologue to listen to while I regained my strength.”

“How much did you hear?”

Kitana considered for a moment as her sister anxiously looked on. “I vaguely recall Tanya shutting the door. I was cognizant for pretty much everything after that.”

“Ugh. You’re such a sneak. I assure you; I’m mortified.” Despite the subterfuge, Mileena crawled into the oversized bed next to her sister. She was vigilant not to push Kitana aside. In a more normal circumstance, she would have been less considerate when crawling around her sister. Old habits are difficult to break.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Milly. I meant what I said when I apologized. I-I understand now. You’re right. I wasn’t trying to hurt you…but I can see why I did. The second you walked away from me on stage, I knew I messed up badly. I just didn’t know how. I get it now. Truly. I am your ally. Please know that. Please always know that.” She squeezed her elder sister’s shoulder. “But I’m going to hold you to that breakfast. It sounds lovely. It also means I don’t have to talk to Chef Skarlet. You know that she creeps me out. I walked in on her talking to a roast last month (‘What horrors have ye seen?’).” Kitana’s impression was uncanny. She shuddered. “I’m lucky to have you as a shield.”

Mileena laughed. “Do you still plan on murdering me for making you snort on stage earlier?”

Kitana’s eyes widened in fright. “Oh, my gods! I forgot. Speaking of embarrassment! I can’t believe you did that! Seriously, you think I’m the sneak! Yes, I absolutely still plan on killing you. But my head hurts a little. It’ll have to wait for tomorrow after breakfast. So, please bring an adequate stabbing knife with the meal. One of your sai should do the trick if you can’t find one.”

“Of course, Kitana.” Mileena sighed with relief and looked at her beloved sister and her vibrant excited eyes. “And I truly meant my apology. I’m sorry about storming off the stage. It…wasn’t my finest hour. If it makes you feel better, I think I may have threatened Rhiannon in a moment of passion.”

“You did what?”

“I was upset. I wasn’t thinking straight!”

“You know, I think that makes everything that happened tonight worth it. I want to hear all about that tomorrow. Please feel free to write it out as a script. I need to see it dramatized.” Kitana laughed.

Mileena shifted in the bed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be conversing with you like this again. I was…a wreck earlier. I don’t think I’ll be able to dramatize that part. The thing is, I should have been there. I’m sure the two of us would have thrashed the Zaterran.”

“Can you imagine? No one can stop us when we work together. We’d have sliced him to ribbons, Milly. But, please, don’t linger on our ridiculous spat. I got hurt because I ignored Tanya, not because my sister feels too much. I’m here. I’m awake. And I’m with you.” She exhaled and wistfully whispered. “Shiva Ranatai.”

Mileena furrowed her brow. “What about it?”

Kitana shifted her position to face her sister more directly. “Well, it’s the festival of reconciliation. And, here we are. Apologizing, reconciling, comforting and….”

“Oh, my gods! Stop. You’re such a dork.” Mileena was not going to allow her sister to finish such a cliché, absurd sentiment. They both laughed and the elder sister moved to her back and looked up at the tapestry sewn into the ceiling of Kitana’s canopy.

It was another baroque image of Empress Kitsune. The ancient queen. Here, she was holding the horn of a bearded unicorn in one hand, a broad sword in the other. Behind her, anthropomorphic lions stood guard, held royal flags, and bowed. Kitsune’s expression was similar to the other tapestry. Was it a look of enticement or sublimity? Sensuality or remoteness? Empathy or austerity? Once again, it was a mystery that could not be penetrated and Mileena sighed.

She turned toward Kitana once more. They held each other’s shoulder and pushed their foreheads together, ever so slightly. They had no way of knowing, but they were assuming a posture they had been conforming to since they were infants in their shared cradle.

Mileena considered the historicity of Kitsune and asked a question to Kitana. “Do you think everything they say about the first Empress is real or do you think it’s merely legend?”

Kitana paused before answering; clearly trying to discern the nature of Mileena’s bizarre, but intriguing, inquiry. “It was eons ago. At this point, some academy scholars aren’t even sure she was real. I’m-I’m not sure. I believe she existed, but my mind tells me most of the stories are legend. Why do you ask?”

“Before tonight, I think I’d have agreed with you; but for some reason, my heart is suddenly telling me it might be more complicated. I don’t know why. There’s something about this tapestry. I can’t quite explain it. It’s summoning a vastness, an infinitude I’ve never considered as part of our own shared history. As I hold you right now, I feel she’s here with us.”

Kitana carefully considered her sister’s words. “I trust your heart, Milly. I’m sure there’s some Truth in both of us.”

For a few minutes they just lay there. Enjoying each other’s comfort and closeness. With some hesitation, Kitana broke the paradisical silence. “So, you really do love her?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters. If I was well enough, I’d stand up and propose a toast to Tanya: your beloved, and my dear bodyguard and friend.” She took a deep breath. “There is one person who may not join in that toast, however. Mother will surely find out eventually (if she doesn’t already know).”

Mileena sighed. “If she asks, what will you tell her?”

“If she asks, I’ll tell her that you’re never going to give up on her.”

“It’s the Truth.”

“I know. I can see that vividly now. On stage, I was looking at you as a princess, as an entity absorbed in a nebulous political struggle. I should have been looking at you as a sister.” She smiled, “It was a mistake. You’ll always be my sister first. Not a princess. You’ll just be Mileena to me. My sister who supposedly feels too much; my sister who I wouldn’t have any other way. And, as I told you, I am with you, always. Because I know you’re with me. If mother tries to pull you apart from your dearest Umgadi, it will be tantamount to tearing you apart from me. I will defend you like a proper sister.”

“And I’m with you. I will never abandon you again, Kitty. Tarkat or not, I’m with you for as long as I can. To suffer is to be alive. The cynics say that relationships decay with the physical body. I will defy that. With my last ounce of strength, with my last breath, I will be your sister. When I am gone, I will still be your sister. When you look up at the perfect silence of the stars, I will be there, as your sister.”

“You will not die before me, Mileena.”

“Your optimism is –”

“No, that one isn’t up for debate. You don’t get to respond to that. Little sister’s prerogative. You will not die before me. Do you understand? If I have to cross every freezing desert, if I have to enter the dreadful Hive of the Kytinn, if I have to ransack the royal treasury of Seido, if I have to surrender my own blood to a Vaeternian occultist, if I have to travel to the Netherrealm with Tanya, we will find a cure. You’ll see. That rural cottage will be ours. The forest, the mountains, the game of cards. You will see it. And Tanya will be there.”

A distant bell resounded signifying the witching hour.

Kitana continued. “You want to know the worst part, Milly?”

“What?”

“I really wanted to watch the parade and fireworks with you.”

They both laughed so hard they cried.