Epilogue
AURA
Five Winters Later
Heart of Treland Castle, Treland
Aura presses her palms against her warm cheeks as the sweet mead courses through her veins, drawing a smile on her lips.
The lively hum of chatter and laughter in the brightly lit Great Hall fills her with warmth.
After her parents expressed a desire to abdicate their crown in favor of their youngest child, she feared the rest of the country would look down on the witch who had spent three winters training with the Wicked Wyvern of Skalor.
At least the country of Skalor saw a turnaround after the demise of their Queen and one of their patron gods. Even the never-ending winter dissipated, allowing crops to prosper once again.
“Your Majesty,” one of the misogynistic Timber Council members bows respectfully to her.
“Your coronation ceremony was fitting for a ruler of our country, and this reception was far more enjoyable than I expected. The Council was uncertain about seeing a lone Redwood Queen on the throne again, but your strength and stability are well-received in Timber.” He inclines his head across the hall at her Uncle Grim, who raises a flagon before slipping away to his bedchamber.
“We expect great things from you, Queen Aura.”
Aura murmurs a ‘thank you,’ feeling grateful that Calder stands at her side, gently stroking her back. The seidr wounds have never faded with time, making him more terrifying than ever in his courtly attire, which consists only of black linen trousers, a tunic, and a vest.
“Are you sure you don’t want the title of King, my Prince Consort?” She wraps her arms around his waist.
After five winters together, he has stayed resolute in his wish to support Aura rather than rule a kingdom again.
“No, Princess.” His fingers weave through her curls, carefully avoiding her mother’s sapphire tiara nestled in her russet locks. “I have exhausted my time as a leader. I am ready to dedicate my life to my family.”
As if sensing their conversation, one of their toddlers appears around the corner, heading away from the family suites in the newly refurbished Heart of Treland Castle.
The castle is located at the central point of all three provinces.
This newly established royal palace is more centrally situated to govern the country and offers her parents the privacy they seek in Salt.
“Papa! Papa!” Their daughter, Adelissa, runs straight into Calder’s legs. Her little bottom lip trembles in indignation. Even though she has been running around barefoot, her dress remains surprisingly clean.
Calder scoops her up. “What happened, sweetheart?"
“Bubba pulled my hair!” she cries in her sweet, childlike babble, clutching her dark curls and burying her tiny face into his shoulder.
“Sissy!” Their son, Ludovic, Addie’s twin, appears with Edmund close at his heels. The Gothi, who now functions as one of their Head Advisors, is out of breath.
To think he was a man of his word, having followed them back to the Inner Sanctum and then to Treland.
“Ludovic?” Calder places his free hand on his hip, assessing their son.
After praying for a safe birth, she selected their children’s names from the Guardian Mausoleum. Adelissa and Ludovic were two previous Guardians who lived long and legend-filled lives.
The only strange thing was Calder’s shocked expression and speechlessness when she first uttered their names.
Ludo stomps his tiny feet, and Edmund translates the tantrum. “Ludovic has trouble listening to someone else’s thoughts during playtime and burned Addie’s dollhouse with his seidr.” He chuckles. “Except, she punched him, which led to the hair-pulling that ensued.”
As new little halvguds, the Norn sought to bestow both their children as elemental wielders. Ludovic controls Grandma Maeve’s fire ability, while Adelissa controls Grandpapi Briny’s water seidr.
Aura kneels beside her son, still shocked at how the twins resemble miniature versions of her husband with their mahogany locks and intense blue eyes. It is in their unique personalities that they differ.
“We use our words when we are upset, Ludo.”
Unlike any child she has encountered, Ludo is filled with a fire that never seems to extinguish. His body trembles with an energy that neither of his parents can comprehend.
He stomps back and forth, reminding her far too much of her father. Something Avina is quick to remind Aura when their only grandson comes to visit.
“Your Highnesses?” Serk shuffles forward on his staff, interrupting the family discipline. He is followed by a younger boy clutching a tray of freshly baked treats.
The tension among the children dissipates at the sight of Uncle Serk, the castle's Head Cook. Ludo rushes over to her old friend, who entertains him with a fantastical explanation of how he crafted each sweet on the tray.
“Papa, I go down?” Adelissa taps Calder’s cheek with the tiniest palm, barely big enough to cover his nose.
He presses a grizzly peck to her plump little cheek, eliciting the sweetest giggle before placing her bare feet back on the stone floor beside her brother. All frustrations with each other vanish as Uncle Serk offers each of them a small cake.
After Eivor chose to stay in Kaldrgataness to train as a Drengr with Thora, Serk temporarily opened a tavern in Toftlund and sold the homestead before accepting his position in the castle.
With Thora and Gunni married and having no desire to bear children, Eivor has taken on the role of the future heir to Skalor.
“Can you explain again how Crystal’s fail-safe nightly tea resulted in twins?” Edmund collapses onto a bench behind one of the long tables, nicking a forgotten mug of ale.
Calder answers before she gets a chance. “We love the twins but are unsure how they came to be.” After three winters adhering to Crystal’s brewing instructions, the Wyvern announced that Aura’s runes indicated a pregnancy.
Edmund cracks his back with a dark chuckle. “Wouldn’t it be amusing if Volund orchestrated the situation just to call in his favor?”
Aura shares an uneasy glance with her husband. Two winters ago, they had another run-in with the Master of the Underworld during a detour to Steinland to assist Bjorn with his mission.
Could the King of the Gods have manipulated them with their children?
The twins will turn three winters old in just a few short months, and Volund has yet to show himself after Steinlund.
“Your Majesties.” Their butler, a middle-aged woman with a stern expression and a shaved head, bows before them. “A ragged courier is on the ramparts. He will only speak to the Queen and the Prince Consort.”
Edmund jumps to his feet. “That’s my cue.” He kneels to the twins. “Come on, younglings, let’s try to sleep... again."
He plucks them into his arms as they happily–and quietly–munch on Serk’s pastries. Edmund turns the corner and ascends the staircase toward the family suites with their little heads resting on his shoulders.
Calder takes her hand and guides her through the crowd of post-coronation revelers. Her parents and uncles had long since returned to their rooms, leaving only the younger folks and the Iss Drengr to finish out the evening.
They appear in the entryway where a younger man, looking uneasy, fidgets with a folded piece of parchment bearing Thora’s newly adjusted seal of Skalor: blades in the shape of a snowflake.
Her heart sinks at the sight. Her witch abilities allow her to sense news before it arrives.
The courier’s attention refocuses on their footsteps. He clumsily bows. With a shaky hand, he offers the note, which Aura accepts.
Calder assumes his protective stance, assessing him coldly.
Sister,
The Trees found the boy, and his sanctuary has fallen.
~Q.T.R.S.S
Aura crumbles the note, stumbling into Calder’s side as the words clarify in her mind.
The Manchineel family found Isabel Kilton’s son and murdered the family raising him. Signed Queen Thora Redwood-Sigvidsson of Skalor.
Despite his better judgment, Calder honored his blood oath to Rolf and allowed Isabel to spend her days in a dark, damp cell of Nightwall Keep. He was unaware that Aura had paid a substantial amount to ensure the Skalor guards fed and cared for her so her son would be born healthy.
Isabel’s final hours still haunt Aura.
After Isabel’s son’s birth, Calder ordered the infant removed before she had a chance to hold him. While still shaken from childbirth, Calder ordered guards to drag her into a shallow grave where he froze her solid before shattering her flesh onto the ground.
Aura cradled the squawling infant she named Leofwine, ensuring he would not be a nobody in this cruel world. She traveled with him in a carriage to a small village in Borg Hold, where he could lead a normal life per Isabel’s dying request.
“Do not leave the castle without my permission, boy.” Calder barks at the courier while clutching Aura. “Go into the Hall and ask for Serk. He will ensure you eat.”
Calder moves Aura into a side sitting room, allowing her to sink into a chaise.
“Speak to me, beautiful girl. What happened?”
Aura bites her bottom lip, frustrated with herself that she still hasn’t told Calder about her fascination with and care for Isabel’s son. After the boy’s fifth nameday, she is finally compelled to look the Iss Drengr in the eye and reveal the truth.
“Should the Manchineels steal him from us, then let your son have my firstborn.”
She utters the prophecy for the first time since she spoke it in the highest tower of Nightwall Keep. “I spoke those words to Isabel while Lavinia had me imprisoned. It was my first vision from the Norn. I hardly understood my words then.” She buries her head in her hands.
Calder quietly strokes his beard in that anxious manner she has grown used to. “You should have told me sooner.” His eyes lock with hers, and she feels shame settle in her belly.
“I had been wondering how she lived as long as she did with my ice mark. You removed it and allowed her to give birth!” His growl shudders through her bones, as his reaction was exactly as she had envisioned.
“You have delivered the enemy our child!”
If her parents knew that the heir to the god Freyr was now in the hands of the Manchineels, they would wrestle the crown from her head.
Before her coronation, the Manchineel family retreated into the rural lands of Timber, making it more challenging to locate them. That wretched family would likely raise Leofwine as a weapon against her clan.
Not to mention, he is foretold to take their firstborn child.
Suddenly, the room's door slams shut.
Aura leaps to her feet just as the sconces and hearth flicker before extinguishing altogether.
She snaps her fingers, reigniting the candles and firewood, which bathe them in an unsettling light, unveiling an ethereal stranger.
A tense woman in a high-necked, floor-length gown greets them with a grim expression, her hands clasped at her abdomen.
“Greetings, Caldersson family. I should acknowledge the Sigvidsson-Redwood side, but we all know this branch of the family will shake the continent more than any other.”
“Who are you?” Aura demands.
“So uncouth for a queen. You are much like your father.” She sighs as she examines a painting of Argnier hung above the room’s hearth. One that Aura painted.
“You may call me Gullveig, the Goddess of Order. Patron of Pradacia.”
“Another god.” Calder crosses his arms, eyes not leaving their unwanted guest. “What do you want?”
“Straight to the point.” She pulls herself away from the painting. “I have come to remind the young Queen of her duty as both a witch and a ruler of the Endless Shore.”
She strides closer to Aura, the tension nearly radiating in harsh waves from her misty form.
“Your responsibility lies with the greater pantheon. I understand that you owe a favor to the God Volund. I would hate to remind you both of your grave offense in Steinlund.” She gestures delicately. “I advise you to reconsider fulfilling his stipulation.”
“Do you think we have a choice? He is the God of Death!” Aura pushes back against the absurdity of this conversation.
Gullveig’s expression does not shift at her outburst. “This is not a pleasant house call, congratulating you on your crown.” She stands straighter. “If you wish to remain in my good graces, you will obey my wishes.”
Calder stands before Aura. “Are you threatening us?”
The goddess’ smirk is the most unsettling thing the young Queen has ever seen. “Heed me, Calderssons. I am not known for my forgiveness.”
With that, she vanishes.
Aura gazes at the empty space on the ornate rug where the goddess once stood. Gullveig serves as a reminder of the harsh realities they now face under Aura’s rule over Treland.
They owed a favor to the God of Death, Volund.
Just after learning they were miraculously expecting twins, she and Calder joined her brother Bjorn in Steinlund to inadvertently disrupt the nature of the gods.
She has condemned her firstborn child to the hands of a Manchineel, Isabel’s son no less, as foretold by a prophecy spoken from her own lips.
Now, the head of the godly pantheon threatens their obedience.
Since her parents went to war more than twenty-five winters ago, their clan has walked a bloody and complicated path.
What would be another couple of winters?
Calder envelops her in his arms. “You are not alone in this. I already killed one god for you, pretty girl. What is another if it means I can love you?”
Book Three, COMING SOON!