Chapter 2: Queen Antares
Some moons later, as she had known that he would eventually, Jupiter revealed to the kingdom that he had chosen his Queen. The next few weeks were hectic, as their relationship became a far more public affair, but during the stressful time they would always look into each other’s eyes, and know that the other was thinking of the next day that they would spend, letting all of these troubles fall away, in the garden.
The evening after the ceremony, she walked down through the castle corridors. Her hooves were carrying her without her thought, going automatically in the same direction that she walked every night, as Antares thought of all that she had accomplished over the course of these months. Now that she was Queen, she was ready to put her plan into action and disappear from Jupiter’s life forever. It would be simple and quick, just as she had originally planned it. But now that she came to it a sudden doubt had entered her mind. To leave now would be to give up everything else that she had gained from the time that they had spent together.
Moreover, the image of Jupiter in her mind had shifted over the course of these months. Her vision of vengeance upon him for what he had taken from her had grown cloudy, for whatever he might have taken away, he had now given her all of this. He had given her his heart, open and free, a gesture which she had not returned. Their relationship was something that she had not expected, and it had created a new desire within her. Though she would never forget about her dawn, the challenge of becoming his one true love was an exciting one too. It was an amusing thought that her intentions for Jupiter had changed so much, but for the garden the end would still be the same.
When Star Light’s door swung open in front of her, the old unicorn was wearing a congratulatory smile. “How kind of ya’ to grace my humble abode with your presence, Your Majesty.”
She heard the sarcasm in his words. “Why thank you, Star Light. I told you that I would be Queen, didn’t I?”
Star Light bowed. “My humblest apologies, Your Majesty. Forgive my doubt in your powers of persuasion.” But when he raised his head, the glint had returned to his narrow eyes. “Perhaps the lady also remembers something else that was said between us, some moons ago. Or shall I have to repeat it?”
Antares’s heart skipped a beat. In the months that had gone by, as she and Jupiter had drawn close, she had forgotten about Star Light’s demand.
A gloating smile had arisen upon Star Light’s wrinkled old lips. “The great new Queen of the Unicorns, the love of the King’s life, is but a lowly scorpion of his garden, and only the two of us know it. Fitting, really, that the fool should fall for something from that wretched garden of his. But now that you’ve achieved your goal, it’s time for me to achieve mine.”
Star Light started to pace about in front of her. As he talked, his grin slowly morphed into a disgusted sneer. “I knew his father once. A great unicorn he was, a patron and scholar of the magical arts. He understood what value I brought to this kingdom. He appointed me to a noble office, high in the castle. He took my advice on all matters of import. But he raised a fool of a son.
“Jupiter cares more for the things that grow in his garden than he does for properly running his kingdom. He worries more about watering his vineyards than he does about administering trade. He has consigned me, his most experienced advisor, to this wretched hole in the ground while he wastes his time pruning that insipid tree of his! Now look at me! Just a shadow of my former power do I have, and I could barely lift my horn to help this kingdom if I was needed.” Star Light was livid now, the slits of his eyes seeming to glow as pinpoints of fire as he walked.
“He doesn’t even know what treasure he holds in his prized possession. His father got that tree in an expedition to the south. It is a magical tree; I can feel it from here. With its power, I could discover untold secrets of the world. I could do with this kingdom what Jupiter could never do. But the fool will not let me near it!” He paused, catching his breath for a second, and then brought his eyes down to her with a smirk.
“But you, Lady Antares, you have done what no other pony in the kingdom has done, save the King himself. You have touched his tree without any punishment. So you can now get me what I want.
“Every autumn a bountiful harvest of vibrant fruit falls from the branches of that tall tree. One taste of that fruit could restore my ailing powers and allow me to save this kingdom from that idiot of a King. But every year, all of the fruit goes to waste, for he will not let anypony touch it. Except, perhaps, for you.”
Star Light looked at her expectantly. Antares had listened calmly during his rant, assimilating the information as she heard it. Star Light clearly was trying to frighten her, so perhaps it was time that he knew just what he was dealing with. “Okay,” she answered, in the same delicate, innocent voice that she was used to using whenever she conversed with him. “But allow me to be absolutely clear,” she continued, letting all of that innocence fall away, so that her tone was now one of iron. “I do not love Jupiter, nor will I ever. He stole me away from my home, he took from me everything that I had held dear. My relationship with him means nothing to me. So go ahead, dear Star Light, turn me back into a scorpion. I will appreciate the distress that it causes him.”
Star Light’s eyebrows rose, and he took a faltering step backward. “But why then? What are you doing here?”
It was Antares’s turn to grin. “I wanted revenge on him just like you. You want the fruit of his tree? Why not take the seeds of that fruit and grow your own sapling, in a secret place? Then we’ll destroy his tree, and we’ll both get what we want.”
Star Light considered it for a second. “It could take years for the sapling to be able to produce fruit,” he noted.
“Then we’ll kill the tree slowly. Let it waste away over time, so that Jupiter suffers.” Maybe then he’ll turn to me, and we can finally be truly together, she did not say. “Give me a spell that can sap the tree’s life and wither it away year after year, so that by the time your sapling is fully grown, we can finish it easily. And every year I will deliver you the harvest of the original. So, do we have a deal?”
Once again the old unicorn thought for a moment, but Antares knew that he would agree. The plan gave him everything that he wanted, and it would do exactly what she wanted too, though not in the way that Star Light would think. With that tree out of his life, Jupiter would have no choice but to turn to her, accepting her as his true love. She would have her final revenge.
Finally, Star Light nodded. “The harvest is beginning next month,” he said. “By that time I shall have a spell prepared for you.”
“Good.”
The next day, when she and Jupiter were out tending the garden, as they did every afternoon, she stole a glance up at the great tree and noticed that indeed there were the beginnings of fruits growing upon its branches. They were a pale red colour, still small and unripe, but there were definitely a great many of them.
He followed her gaze. “Yes, my dear,” he said. “The harvest season is about to begin. The garden grows heavy with nature’s bounty.”
“What do you do with its fruit?”
“That tree?” He was surprised, as though nopony had ever asked him the question before. “I let them fall. It is the only tree in the garden that I do not harvest, because I do not grow it for what it can give me. It means more to me than just its fruit.”
An expression had grown on his face, the expression of wistful longing that she so detested, for Jupiter never directed it towards her. He always looked at his garden as though he wanted to stay there forever and forget about the rest of the world. Though the two of them always enjoyed themselves while they were together, it was never the same if they weren’t together here.
She decided to take a small risk. “I might fancy one of them.”
He chuckled, and then went back to his work without paying her a second glance. “I suppose you might.”
She bristled at his flippant tone of voice. “Jupiter, I was being serious. It is such a waste to let the fruit of such a mighty tree fall to the ground unused.”
“But it is a special tree, dear Antares. It means more to me than its fruit. It is all that I’ve worked towards in this space. It--”
“Yes, yes, I know the story of the tree,” she replied with a slight roll of her eyes. “But do I mean nothing to you? I am not asking for the world.”
“Antares, please, don’t ask me to make that choice.” His eyes were pleading her.
“Why?” she demanded. “Because you wouldn’t choose me?”
“You know it’s not like that,” he said. But his face said otherwise.
“It’s just a bit of fruit, Jupiter,” she said, turning away from him. “This garden is just plants. What we have is worth more than soil. It’s worth more than wood. At least it is to me.” She forced a tear out of her eye as she took one last look back at him. “I thought that it meant the same to you.” And she turned and walked away from him.
Inside, Antares was in turmoil. She felt guilty for having browbeaten him so. She knew how much this garden meant to him, how much he would and should cherish it. She knew that it ultimately was his decision what he did with the fruit of his trees. But she also knew that she needed that fruit. Otherwise Star Light would not give her the magic that she needed to remove his tree from his mind. If he truly did love this garden more than he loved her, then she was just going to have to take it from him. The two of them could never be happy while she had to compete for his heart.
She left the garden behind, walking straight on up into the castle. There was no echo of hoof on flagstone behind her, no indication that Jupiter was coming to console his wife. But Antares knew that he would come eventually. And so she settled herself down by the fireplace in his study, and she waited.
It was getting into the early evening when she heard the clopping of his hooves on the floor of the hall. She did not turn to look at him, instead continuing to gaze intently into the fire. His hoofsteps came slowly forward, much more slowly than normal. Antares did not smile, but she knew that this meant he had been thinking hard about their conversation. When the sound stopped, she turned around slowly to face him.
Jupiter stood in front of her, still dirty and tousled from his time outside. When she saw him, Antares had to resist a smile that wanted to come to her lips, because she was suddenly reminded of the first evening that they had spent together, high above the city after an afternoon of work and talk. But she remained silent.
“Antares,” he said after a few seconds had gone by, his voice contrite. “I’m sorry.” She did not react. “You mean more to me than a flower, more to me than a fruit, more to me than a tree,” he continued. “Before I met you, I was only happy when I was with nature, either here in the garden, or elsewhere in my travels. But I’ve realized that even then I wasn’t happy. I was just looking, trying to occupy myself in order to forget that I was still missing something.”
He took a tentative step forward and smiled a small, entreating smile. “But when I met you, I found that thing that I had been missing. I didn’t see it at first; indeed I don’t believe that I saw it at all until today. After you left me earlier, I tried to go back to my work, like I always used to do before. I tried to occupy myself with those things that had always been able to make me happy. But it wasn’t the same.
“What we have is special, and it’s more than anything that I could ever have without you. The garden means as much to you as it does to me, I know. If you want the fruit of my tree, it is your right to have it.” And he bowed his head respectfully toward the floor.
Once again fighting to suppress a tear that attempted to blossom at the corner of her own eye, Antares rose, stepped forward to him, and gently reached under his chin with a forehoof. She raised his head up until he was looking directly into her eyes. “I’m sorry too,” she said, the cracking in her voice betraying more than she was saying. “I understand what that fruit means to you and your family.” And she reached forward and kissed him, seeking forgiveness in his embrace, forgiveness for the crimes that he could never know about, for the things that she had done, and for the things that she was going to do. And he returned her embrace, simply, lovingly, a genuine tear in his eyes.
When their mouths separated, Antares looked once more into his face. Jupiter was smiling again. “The harvest begins next month,” he said. “Normally, I host a ceremony in my garden to start it off. This year, you can be the first to pick the fruit of my tree.”
“I will consider it the greatest honour you could bestow on me,” she answered. Better even than the day you married me, she thought to herself, for today I have truly gained a foothold in your heart. Today I have taken a step to truly being your wife. And for the rest of the evening she smiled. But her heart was heavy.
The next weeks until the harvest passed quickly, for there was much to do in the garden to prepare for the upcoming days of reaping. Most of the time, Antares was able to forget about the upcoming day of fate, since she sensed a change working itself slowly over Jupiter’s manner. No longer did the two merely work together in his rows and vineyards. He understood now that they were her plants, just as much as they were his, and he was willing to let her work there without his supervision.
The evenings were the hardest, for she would then be forced to confront that other side of her life. The glee that displayed itself upon Star Light’s twisted visage every time that she came down to his chambers reminded her painfully every time of what she was about to do. But there was no escape from it, for renouncing the old wizard’s deal meant she would lose Jupiter forever. And now she couldn’t lose him, she couldn’t think even of going one day without his comforting presence beside her. At least, as she continued down this path, she would always have that. At least they would be together.
The first day of the harvest began early, without no time for contemplation or thought. There were matters of dress and ceremony to conform to. The day was bright and clear, as befit a holiday of its impressive magnitude, but even the brilliance of the sun shining hot in the sky could do nothing to dissolve the shadow that hung impenetrable over Antares’s heart.
She stood now with Jupiter out in the garden, at the center of the assembled multitude of his court. All around them, the garden was glowing with its produce, fruit and berry glittering in the light of the morning, and smelling of sweet heaven. All across the nation, farmers and gardeners were waiting expectantly for her cue, for her to reach out and grasp the first fruits of the year, and signal the beginning of the harvest.
She and Jupiter stood just within the boughs of the spreading colossus, its branches and its bounty all about and above them. The smell of its ripe produce was intoxicating, and so, standing there with him, Antares was able to put the thought of Star Light out of her mind. For now, she was just here with the stallion she loved.
After he had said his short preamble, Jupiter looked across to her. “Whenever you’re ready, Antares,” he said, with a carefree smile upon his face. And the simplicity of his smile hit her harder than a thousand blows, but still she took solace in it, and reaching out with her magic she plucked a beautiful, ripe, yellow fruit from where it hung. She brought it down to just in front of her face, and then, closing her eyes, she took a small tentative bite. The juice of it was sweet, pleasant and watery. She felt a sudden rush of energy sweep through her as she swallowed, surely the result of the magic in it that Star Light so desired.
When Antares opened her eyes again, Jupiter was standing beside her. When she noticed that he also had taken a bite of the fruit, she gasped, but he just laughed. “It really is a magnificent taste, my dear,” he said. “Quite the shame that I have missed out on it all of these years. I think that we ought to harvest the whole tree.”
“Indeed,” she nodded back to him. “Every week, we should take out some of our store and celebrate again.” And every week, Star Light will also get his wish. But she did not think of such things now. She only looked into Jupiter’s eyes, willing herself to remember the joyfulness of this moment, whenever that darkness tried to impose itself upon her.
Jupiter grabbed ahold of her shoulders with a foreleg, and, raising the plucked fruit high above them, he cried out to the assembled court, “I declare that this year's Harvest Season has officially begun! Go, and gather the year’s produce!” Then he turned back to Antares, embracing her lovingly. And she did the same to him.
The joy in her heart was able to last most of the day, until finally she found herself once again making the same forlorn trek down into the castle’s depths that she so resented. She carried aloft a gleaming fruit from the tree’s harvest, the first of many that she knew she would deliver down this path, the payment that she would have to make, in order to continue her life as Queen. Even though the way grew darker as she delved deeper underground, the lustre of the fruit’s skin did not diminish, and even as she carried it over the threshold of that dark chamber, still it shone as beautifully as when she had first plucked it lovingly from its home.
Star Light’s eyes lit up with a fiery glimmer when he saw her. When she stepped forward to give the fruit to him, the old unicorn took it gently from the grasp of her magic. Almost reverently, he carried it over to his workplace, where he had cleared a special spot in amongst the rest of his vials and scrolls. “Yes,” he said, his voice a husky whisper, “finally, here is some real magic, something that Jupiter could never appreciate for its true power. But soon, he will learn his mistake.” He looked up at Antares, still standing nonchalantly by the doorway. “How much do you have?”
“Enough to last until next year, if I give you one a week.”
Tentatively, Star Light took a nibble from the fruit. Then, with a sudden viciousness, he grabbed ahold of it and took a great bite out of its centre. The speed and violence with which he ate were things that Antares had never seen from him before, and for just a moment, it frightened her. When he finally spit the seeds back out onto the table, the glimmer was back in his eyes, but it was stronger than before. “Once a week will do, I suppose,” he said, his voice louder and clearer now. “These belong to you.” And he passed her the seeds.
“I have a location picked out,” she said. “A lonely spot away from the town. Jupiter will never know about it.” She turned then to leave, letting out a deep breath. The sooner that she could get out of this place, the better.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Star Light called after her. When she turned around, he had a leering, contemptuous grin on his face. “I doubt you’ll make it out to your little spot if you turn back into a scorpion halfway there. Allow me to assist you.” With a flick of his horn, he had renewed his magic.
“And this too,” he said, now summoning a haze of red magic about his horn. “I’m rather proud of it. The effect might seem miniscule at first, but of course we want the tree to keep producing fruit until ours is ready. Slowly, it will sap the plant’s energy and waste it away to nothing. I’m sorry that I won’t be able to see the look on the King’s face.” He released the spell into her, and Antares felt its essence suffusing her being. It brought with it an uncomfortable warmth, as though Star Light had built all the heat of his personal anger into it. She tried to summon up any shred of the hatred that had gotten her to this place, but found only a dark emptiness where it had once resided in her soul.
“Thank you, Star Light,” she said, keeping her voice even, though she wanted to be out of here more than anything else in the world. “Have a good evening.”
“Cheer up, my lady!” he called after her, “Revenge is a happy thing, isn’t it?” Antares did not have to look back to see the disgusting smile on his face or the hate in his eyes. She was afraid, but at least it was done, for now.
Outside, it was dark, and a breeze whistled through the trees of the garden. Feeling the heat of the magic on her horn, she stole a quick glance into the trees. Now was the time to do it.
As she walked among the rows, the garden seemed now an unfamiliar place. She had first experienced it during the dark, those many moons ago, and she realized that though she still looked as beautiful as she did during the day, she walked now among the plants as her true self, as a creature of the night in a place that did not want her. She had once again become an outsider, a guest in a house that Jupiter owned. Everywhere she looked, she saw memories of the days past, memories of her and Jupiter working alongside each other. But it seemed like it wasn’t herself that she remembered as having been there, but someone else, someone else that loved him purely and openly and didn’t have to worry about the secrets that she carried around with her now in the darkness.
At length, she came to the garden’s centre, where the wide ring of paving-stones encircled the great tree. As she looked up to its soaring heights, she was reminded of how its tall image had started her down this road, and once again she imagined what the place would look like without it. There would be just a hole here, a barren spot where something was clearly intended to be, but it would be missing.
Desperately, she thought of Jupiter. She remembered why she was doing this, that if she didn’t, then she would never see him again, that this was the only way that she could keep them together. And she knew that she couldn’t possibly survive without him. So, she summoned up Star Light’s spell, and reluctantly she let it loose to do its work upon the tree. It flickered once evilly in the air, and then rushed out to envelop the branches and trunk of the great behemoth.
Finally, Antares allowed herself to release that solitary tear.