Chapter 1Tale of Twin Necklaces
1
Tale of Twin Necklaces
Elowyn found herself strolling through the castle corridors she called home, setting off on a quest to find her older sister. The hour was still early as the sun lingered behind a veil of clouds. Soft beams of morning light filtered through the arched windows that lined Elowyn’s path, casting a golden glow on the empty hallways. She walked nimbly, careful to not let her footfalls echo off the marble flooring.
Elowyn followed the stone path leading to her sister’s chambers and stopped before a cherry-stained door. The wooden door’s familiar surface bore intricate carvings that depicted grand mountains, lush evergreen forests, and curves of winding rivers. Each rested beneath a sky of countless stars. And etched at the precipice of the mountains was a large crescent moon, symbolizing their homeland, Eriden.
This door was a testament to their heritage—a wooden portrait of their world. And more importantly, it was a tribute to Caena, the Moon Goddess of the seven feylands.
Gently, Elowyn inclined her head to the wooden door, leaning in to listen carefully. She anticipated, or rather wished, to hear the steady rise and fall of a sleeping chest on the other side of it. Yet, despite her efforts, only silence greeted her ears. She withdrew from the door, deep in thought, and tapped a finger against her chin in contemplation.
Her eyes flickered to the faint energy lining the door and scowled. After a few moments of consideration, Elowyn simply resolved to trying to open it.
She grasped the golden latch and pushed forward, only to be met with an invisible force and jolted back. Her lips pressed into a firm line as she made a second attempt, only to encounter the same problem. Elowyn’s older sister had been warding her doors for weeks without offering any explanation—no matter how much she questioned. Frowning, Elowyn ignored the voice in her mind that told her the door would not open regardless of how hard she tried.
Instead, she tried again knowing it would not budge.
It didn’t.
Acknowledging her frustration, Elowyn admitted that she did , in fact, embody the typical entitlement of a younger sibling. Prior to her older sister’s decision to lock her out of her rooms, Elowyn was accustomed to freely entering her sister’s chambers as if they were her own.
Exhaling heavily, Elowyn shut her eyes and focused her attention on the energy emanating from the door. It was shrouded in a powerful ward, preventing entry from anyone who tried. The essence of the magic woven into the barrier carried a distinct aroma of lilac and honey—a telltale sign of her sister’s enchantments. Any sorceress worth their salt would know to discern the familiarity or unfamiliarity of such abjuration magic. If the magic were unfamiliar, it would raise suspicion and hint towards the possibility of another entity being involved, whether their intentions be either honorable or ill-intended.
Elowyn muttered a string of annoyances under her breath before taking a step back. With a furrowed brow, she tilted her head in concentration, devising how to dismantle the ward. With narrowed eyes, Elowyn summoned her own magic to inspect the door. She sensed the presence of four distinct connections, four magical bolts or locks guarding the entrance.
Clearly, her sister had no intention of allowing her entry without a challenge.
Elowyn delved into the spell work once again, peeling back layer after layer in search of uncovering more. The links were sound, the magic that created them being cogent and impressive. It was difficult to not take a moment to regard her sister’s craftsmanship.
After a fleeting moment of admiration, Elowyn attempted to sever the invisible links guarding the door. She called upon her magic, drawing it forth from the depths of her own reserves. However, as always, it met her with hostility, snarling at her like a caged beast. She tried to rein in the wild of her magic, yet her attempt was hollow and ineffective. The magical force within her was fierce and resisted all attempts at control.
Trying to tame her magic was taxing, strenuous even, like steering a ship through a tumultuous storm with a faulty helm. Despite her best efforts, she failed to command the magic residing within her. The torrents of her power slipped from her grasp, defying her will.
With a sigh of defeat, Elowyn released the hold on her magic.
She chuckled at herself dejectedly, finding the notion of mastering her own powers almost comical. With slumped shoulders and head hung low, she raised a pitiful hand and rapped on the cherry-stained door, muttering shameless greetings.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m certainly not bothered by the fact that you’ve magically sealed off your room. But, if you could kindly let me in, I’d appreciate it.”
Anticipating an irritated response, Elowyn was instead met with silence.
The absence of an answer indicated that her sister really wasn’t in there. Elowyn lingered for a moment, imagining the reasons why her sister lately felt the need to keep her out of her room, or perhaps lock herself in.
With the Trial of Caena looming just days away, Elowyn imagined her older sister was feeling the relentless pull and pressure of anxiety. Despite being incredibly talented, her sister was tormented with insecurities. Elowyn had no doubt that her sister would complete the divine Trial successfully, and better yet—exceptionally.
Elowyn pulled out a smooth, flat, reflective stone from her dress pocket. Holding it within her palm, she drew in a measured breath and tapped into her power. Simple spells like scrying, aided by a scrying stone, were typically feats within her grasp.
A wave of magic pulsed through Elowyn as her silver eyes glazed over, fixating on the reflective surface of the stone.
Gradually, a scene unraveled before her.
Slowly materializing like a misty apparition, a spacious chamber came into view. The room was magnificent and grandiose, with towering bookshelves that lined the halls and enchanted tapestries that hung from the walls—these woven textiles depicted the ancient folklore of her kind. Above, a domed stained-glass ceiling encased an open lounge, showering sunlit rays of striking cobalt, deep scarlet, and lustrous amber down onto the room.
Elowyn’s gaze shifted to the corner of the scrying stone, focusing on a table within the vision. The rough-hewn surface was covered with stacks of books, loose parchment, and furled scrolls. Amidst the clutter sat a snow-haired sorceress, her back bent over a tome as she dipped a feathered pen into an inkwell. With careful strokes, she began inscribing something in a journal.
The moment Elowyn’s enchanted gaze fixated on the sorceress hunched over, the snow-haired fey stiffened, her back straightening abruptly as she slammed the journal shut. Whirling, the sorceress spun around, rising to her feet, and crossing her arms over her chest. Her expression contorted in irritation as she mouthed something inaudible .
Feeling like a crook who was caught, Elowyn winced as she watched the projected image of the snow-haired sorceress scowl at her through the magical stone. If she had to guess what the sorceress was saying, it would likely involve her older sister reprimanding her behavior.
“Damn it, not again,” Elowyn muttered to herself, ceasing the spell. Quickly, she returned the smooth stone back into her dress pocket and hurried down the hall.
In her haste, Elowyn collided with a servant as she rounded a corner, nearly causing the fey to drop the silver tray in her hands. This servant was older and ample, with streaks of gray mingling in the curtain of her short, snowy locks—the only traces of her lost youth.
Elowyn gasped and helped the servant steady her stance. “Oh, moons! Ora, are you all right?”
Ora had been a constant presence in Elowyn and her sister’s childhood. She served as their handmaiden and chamber keeper. More accurately, Ora was like a fretting mother-figure to the two of them. Their actual mother, the queen of Eriden, possessed the strength and intellect befitting her station as one of the strongest queens in the seven realms. However, she lacked the gift of nurturing.
“Good morning, Princess Elowyn,” Ora responded to her curtly.
Fumbling at the tray in her hands, Ora quickly straightened the items that were strewn about from Elowyn’s ill-timed collision into her.
“It would be beholden upon you to mind your steps. A princess should never scurry about in such a manner. Speaking of unflattering behavior, where are you rushing off to at this early hour?”
With a playful grin, Elowyn teased, “Why, good morning to you too, Ora. I’m afraid I’m a bit behind schedule on pestering my dear sister. My regrets to you about my display of undignified manners. I would be absolutely bedeviled if my hallway etiquette did not meet the standards of the monarchy.”
That earned Elowyn a good whack atop her head with the cloth napkin tucked away in Ora’s apron.
“Ow, I was just joking, Ora! You know me, I wouldn’t be careless unless it was absolutely necessary. I only have a few days left with Elyria before the Trial,” Elowyn argued, making a case for her innocence.
“Don’t play the fool with me girl, Goddess knows you’re trouble,” Ora snapped back. Then her expression softened as she continued, “Princess Elyria needs you greatly in the days ahead. I worry she is doubting herself. Each time I see her, she seems half-consumed with dread. The divine Trial is challenging for any royal candidate, especially for her, given that she is afflicted with such a… misfortune.”
Heaviness filled the air as Ora glumly pushed out the last word.
“I felt she needed some comfort and kindness to start her day.” The handmaiden’s gaze was downcast, fixed on the tea tray in her hand.
The silver tea tray was elegant, decorated with ornate edges that were slightly raised with handles fashioned on opposite ends. A silver dome covered an oval plate, from which an inviting aroma wafted. Elowyn imagined stacks of freshly baked biscuits drizzled with honey, berry scones with sugary tops, and delectable finger cakes. There was also a darling porcelain teapot, accompanied by two delicate teacups and saucers.
Reminded of the dainty porcelain tea set Elowyn adored in her youth, a memory from when she was eight resurfaced.
It was the early morning of Elowyn’s eighth nameday and she found herself in the front of a large wooden door—a door she knew by heart. Every morning since she could remember, she woke up and made her way to it. Her gaze lingered on the crescent moon carved upon its surface, twin to the ones marked on her palms.
Standing on her tiptoes with her moon-inked palms, Elowyn reached for the door’s gold-worn latch.
Quietly as she could, she grabbed for the handle and pushed until there was an opening large enough for her to shimmy her way in. She found her older sister sitting at her desk, hunched over, and pouring herself over a book.
Elowyn smirked to herself, thinking her older sister was caught unawares. She slowly crept behind her sister and planned her calculated ambush. She waited a few more seconds as her sister flipped another page in her book. Close enough now to read the text on the pages herself, Elowyn pounced on her sister’s lap.
Feigning shock, her older sister jolted and shrieked. Elowyn cackled with joy, giggling herself into oblivion. Elyria laughed in tandem as she sat Elowyn upright in her lap.
“I got you!” Elowyn bellowed in triumph as settled into her sister’s embrace.
Chuckling affectionately, Elyria agreed. “Yes, you did.”
“Do you know what day it is Ely?”
“Hmm… It’s Tuesday, right?”
“No! Well, yes. But, no! It’s my nameday!”
“Oh, so it’s Tuesday and it’s your nameday?”
“Yes! You said we could have a tea party!” Elowyn griped.
“Of course it’s your nameday. I would never forget such a special day. I had Ora bring your favorite tea set and treats.”
“This is the best day ever!” Elowyn squealed, elated.
“Here, I also got you a gift,” Elyria responded, smiling tenderly.
Elyria retrieved a small wooden box from her desk drawer. She gently handed the box to Elowyn and watched her younger sister untie the scarlet ribbon and lift the lid, her wide silver eyes peering inside. Within it, was a pair of identical necklaces nestled on a cushioned bed. Each necklace was made of a thin silver chain with a solitary gemstone—a breathtaking white opal, skillfully cut into the shape of a teardrop.
Elyria removed one of the necklaces, displaying it to her younger sister. “Remember when you asked me to promise that we’d always be together? Well, I had the royal artificer make us something special. These necklaces are carved from the same stone, fashioned from two halves of a whole. They’re charmed with an invisible bond that’s inseparable—kind of like sisters.”
With curiosity, Elowyn lifted the second necklace from the wooden box and held it in the air. At first, she felt nothing, but then a gentle hum radiated from her necklace, as if it acknowledged the presence of her sister’s necklace—a missing piece now complete.
Wonderstruck, Elowyn allowed Elyria to fasten the necklace around her neck, and then watched as her sister donned her own. The necklace felt like a warm pulse, a soothing weight at the base of her neck. Elowyn had never owned any magical objects before. She instantly prized it most above all her other belongings.
“Now we can always feel like we’re together?” Tears welled in Elowyn’s cherub eyes.
“Yes, exactly. Happy nameday, Elowyn.” Elyria laughed, her voice was like a lilting melody.
Her sister then pulled forth a silver tray with a set of porcelain teacups and a plate of shortbread cookies. “Now, now. A princess has no time for tears on her nameday. What do you say, shall we have tea?”
The memory began to fade and Elowyn absentmindedly brushed her fingers over the comforting teardrop chain around her neck as she refocused on Ora.
“Elyria isn’t in her room, I already checked. However, she is in the royal library. Do you mind if I bring it to her?”
“Bless her heart, that child always has her nose glued to a book. Be mindful of your sister when you see her,” Ora cautioned as she placed the tea tray in Elowyn’s arms.
“Don’t worry, Ora, I promise I’m not as much of a troublemaker as you make me out to be. Plus, I’m Elyria’s favorite person, so I’m sure she’ll want to see me,” Elowyn said with a wink.
Ora’s lips tightened while her eyes narrowed as she watched Elowyn flash another smile and head in the direction of the library.
The gemstone around Elowyn’s neck warmed with delight, singing in response to soon being reunited with its other half.