Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings

Volume #4 The Nativity

by

J. Lee Roberts

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     Long ago, before humans had harnessed the power of fire, I was being educated as an entertainer. Not in the way you are imagining, but as a planner of sorts—a party planner. I invented games and contest. I hosted elaborate festivals and events. If you were having a wedding or commencement, I was the girl to see. In fact, the only reason humans tell tales of monsters and magic is because of me. Sounds a bit narcissistic, doesn’t it? Well, it’s true. For it was I who chose a small, primitive, blue planet to hold the 87th bi-millennial, intergalactic Olympiad.

     We built grand arenas and magnificent cities to host the event. Some of which should still be standing today. But, for every winner of a tournament, there is a loser. It just so happened that the match that ended the games and started the war was between brothers Loki and Thor. The infamous battle that ensued ended my spectacular Olympiad and threatened the very existence of humankind. When Odin demanded that we disembark the planet, a great exodus began, but those of us desperate for a change decided to stay. We are the Nightlings, and we all had our reasons. Seeing that it was my fault Earth was “invaded” in the first place, I made it my personal responsibility to maintain peace and order on the newly developing world. And with orders from Odin himself, I demanded discretion of our origins amongst the new inhabitants. You all know how well that worked.

     Regardless of how I ended up on the throne, I wanted off. So, once I felt that the safety of humankind and the protection of the Nightlings’ secrets were secure, I created a council consisting of trusted members of each Nightling race and laid my own crown aside. Infuriated by Dorian’s unyielding determination to reclaim the throne, I left my prize, my love. I slipped away into the night, seeking the shelter and comfort of the shadows I had grown so accustomed to. In time, I made my way to the American West, where after many adventures, I established an antique shop—Purdy’s Antiques, as in Catalina Purdy. Of course, every 50 years or so, I disappear leaving my shop in capable hands until I return a generation later posing as one of my own descendants.

     The store gives me the opportunity to interact and blend with the mortal population. And having lived through all of humanities artistic periods, I have quite the living knowledge and the collection, of all things old. Which brings me back to now. Board stiff and starving.