Chapter 46 Aura #2
“Where-” the words choke out as her suspicions bubble to the surface. "Where is Argnier?”
He stands, extending a hand to her, and her heart sinks.
Carefully, he guides her out of Coldheart Keep into a surprisingly bright sunny day for Skalor. The thick snow piles are gone, replaced with the colorful leaves of autumn.
“Lavinia’s corruption of the Skalor Sacred Stone,” Calder answers her question before she can voice it. “I wish I could relish in the true beauty of Skalor. I fear it will always represent every painful memory in my life.”
“Where is the Skalor Sacred Stone now?” She asks.
He hesitates for a moment, and a brief hint of a smile twitches on his lips. “Gunni.”
Aura squeezes his hand with a smirk as they continue toward the evergreen forest behind the Keep.
Every step twists in her gut. When they finally stop along the treeline, her eyes fall to a waystone bearing Argnier’s name in runes.
“I thought,” Calder swallows, “I thought he might be more at peace here, in his favorite place to find solitude.”
Aura collapses onto her knees before the stone, her fingertips trace the engraving of his name. “How?” It is the only word willing to escape her lips.
“He disobeyed my final order and followed Thora’s troops inside. The old bastard finally got the revenge he desperately sought.”
She senses there is more to the story, but in this moment, all that matters is the other sacrifice of that day, who did not return from the afterlife.
“Could you not? His soul…” Could his soul not return to his body?
He shakes his head. “Your body was still intact, alive, and preserved by Volund. Argnier was…gone.”
Once the floodgate of tears begins, they do not stop. She buries her head in her hands as the grief washes over like a cold wave, suffocating her until she feels she cannot breathe.
Calder remains her silent sentinel, standing over her as she grieves one of the few people in her life who supported her for all that she was, asking for nothing in return.
Worst of all, she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. To tell him how important he had become in her life.
“I’m sorry, Argnier.” She whispers to the stone, hoping beyond reason that he is drinking in the Depths with her grandpapis. “Your soul deserves more than the gods can ever give you.”
Despite the void in their hearts, Calder, Edmund, and Aura agree that their lost companion would toss them all into the Bay of Souls if they sat around shedding another tear.
In honor of the exiled Prince of Treland, a banquet was held that evening.
Mead flows strong, and the scent of roasted meat is abundant throughout the cold stone of the keep.
In the chaos, Aura catches Crystal smirking from the back corner of the dining hall. The Princess slips away from Calder to join the Wicked Wyvern.
“Thank you for everything.” Aura hands her a horn of mead. “You didn’t have to risk your life to help us. And I can’t imagine what it felt like to confront Makt after all this time.”
Crystal accepts the drink with a nod of her head. “You reminded me of something I thought was lost to the continent.”
“What was that?”
“Hope.” Crystal guzzles from her horn with a sigh of contentment. “With Makt’s presence still lurking on the continent, the Inner Sanctum never truly offered me restful peace.”
“What am I to do as an uncollared witch?” Aura voices the burning question she has been considering since the Wyvern’s reveal in the Sanctum. “How do I use this immense power to help my country?”
A crash sounds as Edmund drunkenly clambers onto one of the long tables and begins to jig in time with the musicians. Her uncles look on with a pride that has her laughing. The sensation makes her feel more like herself than she has in a while.
“You can start by training. I recommend a couple of years in the Sanctum.” Crystal strokes her chin. “That man of yours still needs to complete his Trial without your guidance.”
Aura’s jaw drops. “You would invite me to train? With you?” Of all the paths for her future, she could only dream of learning to harness her seidr from the lesser goddess.
“Who else could ready you to ascend your throne, Queen Aura?”
Aura doesn’t think. She throws her arms around Crystal’s chest. The Wicked Wyvern freezes at her abrupt physical touch.
“I would like that,” Aura admits.
Crystal relaxes, accepting her embrace. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I have a soft side, darling.” She pats her back, pulling away as Calder saunters over.
“You two are awfully chummy.” His hands stuff into his pockets as he tilts his head.
“I would hope so!” Crystal puffs her chest out, offering a prideful glance at Aura. “The Princess has agreed to be my first pupil in centuries.”
Calder doesn’t even act surprised. His lips tug into a rare, wide smile. “Wonderful. I was hoping for another chance at my Trial.”
As the food and drink run low and the fire of the hearth wavers, Aura relaxes on the back terrace, leaning against Calder while he twirls her curls through his fingers.
Crystal weaves designs of elemental seidr out of the air while Edmund crouches on the stone wall, smoking his pipe, and Gunni lays his head in Thora’s lap.
“While I have you all here,” Calder gently shifts Aura so he can stand. His joints cracking in the process. She swears he winks at Gunni as he takes the center spot while Crystal settles beside Edmund.
The Princess’ smug smirk grows, Calder having briefed her on his momentous decision sometime between her third and fourth horn of mead.
“My Kingship has been long and arduous already,” he begins.
After the death of Queen Lavinia, it was Jarl Clementia, and, shockingly, Jarl Guy’s sister, the new Jarl of the Crescent Hold, who crowned Calder the de facto King of Skalor in quite possibly the swiftest coronation in history.
“As you all know, my days of leading holds and countries are far behind me. I am ready to settle down.”
Silence answers Calder.
Aura cannot help but think that they all must question what will happen to the Treland and Skalor thrones, with Aura maintaining her path to queenship in her home country and Calder still considered the rightful King of Skalor.
“I need to name an heir to rule the kingdom of Skalor. To raise it from the ashes of Lavinia and Makt’s reign.” He looks directly at Thora, who pales as understanding washes over her.
“Thora Sigvidsson-Redwood, I name you my heir should you accept it. I didn’t think anyone could manage control of Kaldrgataness, and I hear you beheaded ten Lavinia supporters in my absence. All while cultivating a mountain of respect from people I frankly hate with every fiber of my being.”
“They’re not that bad.” She mutters.
“What do you say, Lady Commander?”
Rare tears brim her bright green eyes as she does the unthinkable and kneels before Calder. Thora withdraws her dagger and slices her arm before wiping the blood across the blade of her axe, uncannily similar to the Drengr oath. “I accept the crown with honor.”
Gunni watches her with all the adoration and worship the Lady Commander deserves.
“Rise, Thora Sigvidsson-Redwood, Queen of Skalor, Lady Commander of the Drengr.”
She stands straight with a fierce intensity that could only be matched when their father named her Lady Commander of the Drengr.
“I thought you had no interest in Queenship?” Bjorn saunters onto the terrace in his usual crisp black suit. His appearance shatters the moment, as none expected the Prince of Treland to make the trip to Skalor before traveling to Steinlund to assume his mission.
Aura and Thora rush toward him, and the siblings prod and shove each other before settling into a warm embrace.
“There’s something ruggedly untameable about Skalor,” Thora admits to Bjorn. “But, who the fuck is ruling Treland?”
“Uncle Grim.” Bjorn shrugs.
A sigh of defeat comes from the doorway leading to the dining hall. Sigvid’s arms hold Avina against his chest as they watch over everyone. “I guess we will have two countries' worth of Drengr.”
Thora tugs her shoulders back. “Don’t pretend this wasn’t your plan all along, Uncle Sig.”
His only response is to beam at them all in a very rare and genuine gesture.
“What in the Abyss are you going to do, now, Edmund?” Bjorn asks.
The Gothi looks at Calder with a wry smile. “I need someone to pay for my lifestyle. Why not the future Queen of Treland and the Iss Drengr?”
Even as they all laugh, Aura cannot help but reflect on a time when she would have killed for this moment. For the first time in a long time, she feels light in her heart and a flutter of excitement for what is to come.
Everyone falls into separate conversations over the excitement of Thora’s impending coronation, Bjorn’s venture to Steinlund, and Aura and Calder's training with Crystal.
With their family distracted, Calder pulls Aura away into the gardens. His lips brush against her knuckles.
“I always thought the gods had forsaken me. But the night you crawled onto my ship with that fierce determination in your eyes, I thought maybe they had seen fit to offer me another chance at happiness.” His hand caresses her cheek.
“You have me, baby girl. However long the gods grant me, I am yours.”