The Queen of the Underverse - Book One of the Queen's Saga - Intro
- Donovan Evans-Foto Dono
- 7 days ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
As you can see, I've begun to tell a tale. I haven't taken many pictures lately, but I'm working on that. 😉 The idea for this story has been rumbling around in my head for ages, and I was never quite sure what to do with it. I started serious writing at the end of May, and I've written over 15,000 words so far; they are not all here. I'm still working on them, but I think this part is ready, maybe. 🤔 So I will publish in a serial format here, like in those pulp magazines I used to read long ago. Just not with too many lurid covers - no promises. 🤦😉 - Dono
The story so far...
Intro
Queen Lyra strolled gracefully along the winding path of the Garden of Nowhere, a ritual she cherished every morning. Yet today was unlike any other—she was dying, and she wanted to savor each fleeting moment before the day slipped away. Though her exterior appeared untouched by illness, the shadow of her fate loomed heavily; by sunset, her soul would depart this world.
With deliberate slowness, she embraced the beauty surrounding her. The Garden glowed in an eternal golden hour that caressed her pale blue skin. Sunbeams danced through her flowing auburn hair, revealing fiery glints of copper that shimmered with each step. Her ruby eyes still sparkled with emotion.
A chill breeze whispered through the air, wrapping around her like a gentle embrace. She pulled her midnight robes closer—the fabric alive with the twinkling of tiny stars, cascading like a waterfall of light. To any human who might chance upon her, she would seem like a radiant young woman of thirty-five—full of life and vitality, embodying the very essence of youth—rather than a queen nearing the end of her journey.
The Voice and the Dente Nocturn had visited her the night before. Although she could have done without the Dente Nocturn’s visit, she was surprised that protocol permitted their passage, so long as they kept to themselves. They had come to pay their respects.
The Last Evening Star had visited her the previous week, gifting her a song meant only for her—she had wept and laughed when it was over. The FuGazzi had even emerged from the Labyrinth of the Last Wish to share a surprising picnic lunch.
Yet, what touched her most during these last years—if you could call them years in the Underverse—were her charges. You might call them the citizens of the Underverse. Almost everyone blessed her, thanked her, or wished her well on her next journey—almost everyone.
No matter what universe you came from, you eventually learned you couldn’t please everyone. Still, the Queen of the Underverse was content and cherished her final moments in the Garden of Nowhere. She was walking toward its center, where the Doorwhere to Everywhere stood.
The small, furry brown garden gnomes tended the Garden of Nowhere during the Golden Hour. Queen Lyra fondly recalled years of coaxing, scolding, and praising them, with varying degrees of success. Sometimes they listened. Sometimes they didn’t. The Garden wasn’t dangerous, but it wasn’t safe either. It teemed with diverse flora and fauna—some flora was even carnivorous. That section was saved for unruly guests. She chuckled, trying to recall the name—Paul, perhaps?—of the intruder who once tried to clear-cut the Garden for something silly like profit. He’d been quite surprised to discover the flora's sharp teeth, claws, and taste for raw meat.
The Queen often strolled the Queen’s Path, a route shaped by the Garden itself, lined with tall, willowy oaks and intersected by gentle streams. Her favorite blossoms and fruits flourished along its edges. Sometimes she invited companions and lovers for picnics on the nearby hill. She particularly cherished the quiet walks during the Blue and Twilight Hours—moments she seldom shared. The last time had been with a young man in a firecloak, who had lost his name before venturing into the Canyons of Neverwhere. A pleasant young man. He eventually rediscovered his name, though it couldn’t heal his sorrow.
She finally halted before the Doorwhere to Everywhere.
The Garden of Nowhere wasn’t connected to, well, anywhere—hence the name. Sure, she had been granted semi-permanent access, but only after a hard-fought bargain. "Personally," she thought, "the Garden was lonely and just wanted company. That’s probably why it said yes at the end of the bargaining."
Queen Lyra could feel the Garden’s enjoyment as she walked its myriad paths. It would miss her, in its own way. Joy lived here, and she was grateful to have experienced it. The Underverse had told her the Garden of Nowhere had grown around this particular Doorwhere to Everywhere. That’s why she had wanted to visit it so long ago. The Doorwhere had never been opened in her lifetime. According to the Garden, it had never seen it open at all.
Every Doorwhere to Everywhere had been opened once, at the beginning—according to the Underverse. Now, most were locked, and the keys lost. The few that remained open were scattered across all of creation.
As her long life drew to a close, she found herself drawn more and more to the Doorwhere. It had been there at the beginning, and perhaps, it would be there at the end. What began as monthly trips became weekly, then daily visits. She came to believe the Doorwhere would be with her at her end. Her visits became ritual.
Then one day, without thinking, she knocked:
Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock—pause—Knock, Knock.
She did it three times. There was never a reply. The heavy Doorwhere remained locked.
Day after day, as her life waned, she knocked and turned the knob, always to no effect. The Queen was acutely aware this was her final day. The world would go on without someone to inherit her responsibilities, but it would be adrift, like a shoal in an endless sea. Creation wouldn’t end—but damage would follow. Her role as Protector had always been to mitigate that damage.
Change was inevitable. And not all change was kind. Those with power- the ones who could shift—would escape, leaving behind others to face the Voice, the elusive FuGazzi, and the dread Dente Nocturn. Some might find refuge in the soft places—those fleeting, unpredictable sanctuaries, like the elusive Fiddler’s Green, which promised safety but often vanished before one arrived.
Her heart ached for what she was leaving behind. The storm was coming.
Still, few believed her anymore. She’d lived too long. The last time the Underverse changed was in the previous era. Only a handful remained from then—the Dente Nocturn, for one. She hadn’t been there—her predecessor had. But she carried that protector’s memories, saw the bleed between realities. And she knew her body couldn’t hold out much longer. After eons, it was bound to happen.
Chaos would follow. No Queen. No protector. And change is coming fast.
“That was our biggest failure,” she mused. “No one to take up the mantle.”
As the Queen approached the Doorwhere to Everywhere for the last time, she raised her hand and knocked:
Knock-knock.
Knock-knock.
...Knock-knock-knock.
Knock-knock.
Knock-knock.
...Knock-knock-knock.
Knock-knock.
Knock-knock.
...Knock-knock-knock.
Nothing. She gave the doorknob a little jiggle.
She sighed and turned away—then stopped. The doorknob rattled once, then again, frantic for a moment, then abruptly ceased. A soft click echoed in the lock. The door creaked open, revealing an entrance shrouded in shadow.
The wind began to whip around her, pulling her hair and robes. A shiver ran down her spine.
From the darkness stepped a figure, clad in intricate, peculiar armor. It glinted faintly in the dim light as it crossed the threshold into her world.
© Donnavon Evans
June 10, 2025
Additional Notes: Since I posted this on June 10th and reposted the changes, I've rewritten this Intro twice. This is mainly due to changes to the book's storyline. (sigh) When I thought I got it right, my main character did something completely different. - Dono - June 13th, 2025
Love it. Keep writing