The Divine Shallows

Chapter 4The Fanged King, The Clever Queen, and The Heir of Nothing

4

The Fanged King, The Clever Queen, and The Heir of Nothing

Having breakfast together was a rare occasion, and the tension in the royal dining hall was intolerable. Elowyn sat beside her sister, with their father and mother seated across from them. Despite the spaciousness of the hall, designed to accommodate sixteen guests, the four occupants seemed oddly outnumbered. Most days, the royal dining hall remained empty, a stark contrast to its lavish decor. Their father was engrossed in ruling their kingdom, while their mother managed affairs in the courts, leaving the sisters largely to their own devices. However, that was not to say they were left without expectations.

The table before them was laden with Eriden’s finest delicacies. Plates adorned with sweet berries, dried apricots, and sugared pears mingled with dishes of broiled potatoes, seasoned squash, and sauced turnips. Silver serving trays held an array of meats that tantalized the senses. Despite the opulent spread, Elowyn and her older sister appeared disinterested, appearing as if they would rather be anywhere else at the moment.

Any occasion where the royal Fangwright family gathered never turned out well.

The king of Eriden broke the silence, his voice domineering. “Elyria, you are to begin your Trial in a week’s time,” he declared, then turned his gaze to Elowyn. “And Elowyn, you are to be named as a divine candidate for the next season’s Trial.”

He spoke in statements rather than questions and both of the sisters elected not to speak.

The king helped himself to the food, filling his plate with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and meats. He signaled for a servant to pour him wine, then rolled up the tunic of his cream-colored sleeves and began to eat. Meanwhile, the queen, Elyria, and Elowyn sat in silence and the only sounds in the hall were the clinking of silver against porcelain.

“Eriden’s reputation has waned since Elyria’s birth,” King Eamon remarked, seemingly oblivious to Elyria’s presence. “The Moon Goddess has granted Elyria another chance to redeem her faults, and furthermore, she has chosen to bless Elowyn with the first Mark.” He continued eating. “Among the seven houses of Neramyr, House Fangwright has always stood as a behemoth in comparison to the others. In this lifetime, I will not allow the debasement of the Fangwright name and bloodline.”

Taking a sip of his wine and draining the glass, King Eamon continued, “Elowyn, you will one day bear the weight of the Fangwright crown. It is no trivial matter. You were chosen as the next heir of Eriden in your sister’s stead—A fate was decided by the Goddess’ hand.” He wiped his mouth with a cloth. “With the uncertainty surrounding Elyria’s completion of the Trial of Caena and return from the Bridge Between Worlds, it is you who must bear the responsibility of ruling this kingdom when I am no longer in this realm.”

Elowyn had no idea what possessed her to speak. Her usual inclination was to remain silent when her father spoke, yet she found herself compelled to ask, “What if the Goddess does not choose me on the Seventh Day?”

In Neramyr, as the Seventh Day of the Ceremony of Caena drew to a close, the High Priestess would announce the next seven candidates chosen by Caena to partake in her Trial.

Elowyn understood that her name might not be called on the Seventh Day simply by virtue of her royal blood and first Mark. Elyria served as living proof that the Goddess determined all fates, but if tradition held this season, Elowyn’s candidacy was certain.

“You are of royal blood and bear the first Mark—the Moon Goddess will select you as a candidate in the upcoming Trial of Caena. This divine alignment will prove as an opportunity for the Fangwright lineage to assert its reputation among the seven realms,” King Eamon avowed.

Elowyn acquiesced her father with a stiff nod.

The king’s demeanor darkened. “In Neramyr’s history, never has a royal child been deemed as unworthy by the Moon Goddess as Elyria. Her unblessed status continues to tarnish the Fangwright name and brings disgrace upon the seven realms. Hence, these upcoming years are crucial for restoring Eriden’s eminence.”

Turning to Elyria, he continued, “From the moment you emerged unmarked from the Divine Shallows, you have been a disappointment. If it were up to me, I would have ordered your execution as an infant to spare the agony our kingdom has endured at the hands of your existence.”

Elyria’s gaze fell to the table, her expression empty.

The king opened his mouth to speak once more but was cut off.

“Enough,” Queen Eddra intervened. “Elyria is a princess of Eriden, and I will not have her name marred by the mouth of a scorned king.”

King Eamon stared at his wife, his tone devoid of emotion. “Eddra, you must have forgotten that it was I who granted you your title as queen. If it were not for me, you would be nothing but another lowborn sorceress. It would be wise to remember your place. It is because of you that our kingdom’s reputation is marred. Your cursed womb caused the downfall of Eriden.”

With that, the king rose from the table and left the dining hall, his departure marked by the fading echoes of his boots. Three pairs of eyes filled with hatred followed his silhouette until he vanished from sight.

Afterward, Queen Eddra remained silent as she briefly brushed a moon-inked palm against Elyria’s hand. Her gaze seemed distant, almost absent, as she rose from the dining table with a dignified step. The queen departed the dining hall, leaving the two sisters alone.

Elowyn cast a worried glance at her sister, trying to discern her emotions. “Are you all right?”

Elyria stayed silent for a while before finally whispering, “No.”

Elowyn observed as Elyria quietly stood up, pushing her chair back into place, and without another word, left the dining hall.

Left alone with her troubling thoughts, Elowyn sat in silence, her face buried in her palms, and her stomach tied in knots from the unsettling interaction that had just unfolded.

Once, Elowyn had believed in her parents’ love for each other, convinced that they shared a genuine bond. As a feyling, she had been captivated by the story of their romance. Their love was a tale that had been passed down through fables and song for centuries leading up to Elyria’s birth. Despite being born to the very heart of these legendary tales, Elowyn never found these retellings to be true.

The stories of the Fanged King and his beloved maiden had been regaled to Elowyn countless times during her childhood. According to legend, the Moon Goddess had chosen a lowborn sorceress, Eddra, over the Fangwright king’s own brother, the prince, during the Seventh Day— the day of divine selection. Eddra had gone on to excel in her Trial, becoming the primis of her cohort and earning the final Mark of the Moon Goddess. Her extraordinary magical abilities had captivated King Eamon Fangwright, leading to their union and her eventual ascension to the throne as queen of Eriden.

For centuries, the Fanged King and his maiden, the Clever Queen, lived in bliss, ruling Eriden side by side.

Unbeknownst to the fey of Eriden, an era of humiliation would befall their kingdom as two of the strongest rulers in Eriden’s history welcomed their firstborn child. Hours after the folk of Eriden celebrated their heir’s birth, the feasting and reveling turned into mourning and mania. Whispers spread like wildfire, claiming that the princess of Eriden had been born without the blessing of the Moon Goddess—the Fanged King and the Clever Queen produced an Heir of Nothing. Throughout the seven realms, speculations ran wild as the fey sought to comprehend the inexplicable absence of the divine blessing. Chaotic theories ran rampant to justify the calamity.

Some blamed the lowborn queen, accusing her of being cursed for outmaneuvering the royal-blooded prince, the brother of the Fanged King, during her season’s Seventh Day. Others alleged it was because the lowborn queen became manic with greed and stole the magic from the infant for herself. Elowyn knew that these acts of defamation and libel disparaged her father greatly. Over the years, her father’s contempt for the reputation of his kingdom and his first true-born daughter boiled over until he became bitter and rancorous through and through.

Elowyn was born seven years after Elyria. She often pondered the circumstances of her conception, wondering if it had been an act of passionate hatred or merely a duty-bound obligation. To the astonishment of her parents, Elowyn emerged from the ceremonial waters bearing the first Mark, setting her apart from her sister. Consequently, her father always favored her over Elyria.

As a result of Elowyn’s birth, her father committed a grave act of betrayal against Elyria. Upon learning that his second true-born daughter bore the first Mark, he stripped Elyria of her title as Crown Heir and declared Elowyn as the rightful heir to the throne of Eriden.

This proclamation by the king of Eriden initially caused uproar across the seven realms, with many viewing it as a betrayal and an affront to his own daughter. However, the Fangwright King skillfully spun a narrative of unwavering devotion to Caena, asserting that the Goddess herself had chosen Elowyn over Elyria. Gradually, allegiance to the Moon Goddess prevailed over traditional notions of royal succession.

The fey of Neramyr ultimately accepted this narrative, reasoning that Caena had blessed Elowyn to rule in Elyria’s place. However, Elowyn despised the idea of becoming the next queen of Eriden. Not only was it Elyria’s birthright to inherit the Fanged Throne, but Eriden would be better for it.

Elowyn’s footsteps echoed down the marbled walkway as she made her way back to her bedchamber. Along the castle halls, she paused to gaze out from one of the elegant stone arched balconies that lined her path. Wandering to the nearest balcony, she leaned against the ledge, her hands resting upon it as she gazed at the scenery before her.

The vista presented a breathtaking skyline, painted with hues of deep blues streaked with wisps of white. The peaks of Eriden’s mountains stretched out in jagged lines, framing the landscape with their rugged, asymmetrical contours. Atop these majestic peaks, forests and verdant foliage speckled the sharp summits, while clouds drifted gracefully around them.

Despite having spent her entire life here, Elowyn found herself continuously awestruck by the beauty of her kingdom.

Eriden was truly remarkable.

Elowyn’s thoughts mulled over what her father claimed about her fate in the dining hall earlier. Despite never previously dwelling on the implications of the Seventh Day and her supposed divine candidacy, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her participation in this season’s Trial of Caena was inevitable.

It seemed almost too coincidental that, for the first time in Neramyr’s history, each of the seven realms would have a royal offspring eligible to participate in the divine Trial. Elowyn felt the circumstances were too cryptic to be coincidence. Speculations swirled throughout the feylands, suggesting that the upcoming divine season would produce the most formidable wielders of divine magic in Neramyr’s history. Elowyn and her fellow royal candidates were now referred to as the ‘sacred seven’.

Elowyn couldn’t help but furrow her brows in confusion—the mysteries surrounding her destiny and the fate of the seven realms weighed heavily on her mind.

In Neramyr, the number seven held sacred significance. Seven original warlocks and sorceresses, seven kingdoms, and every seven years, seven new divine magic wielders were chosen by the Goddess. Seven, seven, seven. Elowyn couldn’t comprehend how fate had singled her out to be part of this mystifying septet.

Each divine season, Caena opened the gates to her realm to select seven candidates for her Trial. If successfully completed, they would be granted the ability to wield her divine magic. Crucially, each of the seven candidates hailed from a different kingdom within Neramyr’s heptarchy.

Historically, when monarchs of royal houses produced an heir, that heir would be chosen by the Goddess to participate in the subsequent Trial, if of age. However, in cases where a ruler lacked an eligible heir, a highborn individual from the court would be selected by Caena instead. Occasionally, even lowborn fey were chosen by the Goddess to become divine warlocks or sorceresses .

In Neramyran history, there had been only one instance where a non-royal fey was chosen over a full-blooded royal fey for candidacy in the Trial of Caena. This exception was Elowyn’s mother, Eddra. Elowyn had heard tales of how this decision had shaken Neramyr to its core. Despite her Uncle Edwyn, the prince of Eriden, being selected for the Trial in the following season, her mother’s candidacy had cast a shadow over his reputation as a powerful warlock.

Prince Edwyn Fangwright seldom visited Eriden, preferring to spend his time in the Elune Isles with his firedrake, enjoying the majesty of the Swyn Sea. The mountains of Eriden held little appeal for him. It seemed that all the Fangwrights surrounding Elowyn were powerful and influential. She knew that during her Trial all of Neramyr would be waiting to see if she could live up to her bloodline.

The days were dwindling down until Elowyn would have to begin serious preparations and training for her divine candidacy. It was no secret that Elyria was far more powerful than Elowyn at her age, despite not being moon-blessed. Elyria excelled in every endeavor; her native magic surpassed that of most fey.

Elowyn suspected that this was why her father harbored such resentment towards Elyria. If she had been blessed by the Moon Goddess at birth, her power would have been unmatched. She could have elevated Eriden’s status even further, solidifying their position as the foremost among the seven realms. Instead, Elyria remained unmarked, unblessed. Perhaps Caena had deemed it too risky for any single fey to wield such immense power. Elowyn often wondered how strong Elyria would become once she emerged from the Bridge Between Worlds.

In Neramyr, magic was tantamount to power. Since the inception of the New Age, fey born with the gift of magic were hailed as warlocks or sorceresses. For these individuals, magic flowed within them from birth, a native aura that defined their very existence.

This native magic varied in potency and scope, depending on the individual. Some fey could only perform simple spells, like moving objects or conjuring a beam of light. However, others possessed more powerful native magic, capable of weaving intricate spells that could alter perceptions, summon elemental storms, or even enchant other beings to obey their will.

While native magic was impressive, divine magic eclipses it in both potency and rarity. Divine magic not only amplified and enhanced a wielder’s native abilities, but also granted them access to a separate, exclusive form of magic bestowed solely by the Moon Goddess. This magic was a tier of power reserved for those handpicked by Caena. Its distinction was even more profound than the divide between nobility and common fey.

One’s magical prowess was gauged by the presence of their aura and Elowyn was well-aware that her aura fell short.

Elowyn diverted her gaze from the sky, frowning as she scrutinized her moon-blessed palms. From birth, Caena had chosen to imprint her divine Mark upon her, yet with each passing day, Elowyn found herself questioning the Goddess’ judgment a bit more. She was aware that she hadn’t been born with an exceptional gift of native magic—the extent of her magical abilities was merely average.

Elowyn’s thoughts poured over her struggles with basic summoning spells and defensive wards, feeling the weight of her limitations. Despite her efforts to improve her magic through training, she found herself constantly straining and exerting herself just to achieve minimal progress.

Elyria had always claimed that her native magic felt like an extension of herself, a comfort that came as easily to her as breathing. This fueled Elowyn’s frustration and resentment towards the forces that overlooked and disregarded Elyria’s skill.

Shock surged through the seven realms when Elyria’s name was called out by the High Priestess nearly seven years ago. Many doubted her abilities due to her unblessed status, and some even believed her selection was a waste of a coveted slot in the Trial. Even her own father shared these doubts.

Elowyn’s hands tightened on the balcony ledge; her troubling thoughts officially splintered her spirits. She couldn’t shake the worry over Elyria’s wellbeing after this morning’s encounter with their father. The looming reality of Elyria’s departure for seven years gnawed at her, leaving her feeling lost.

Elyria had been more than just a sister; she was Elowyn’s mentor, protector, and closest confidant. Elowyn admired her sister’s strength and wisdom, hoping to become even a fraction of the sorceress her sister was.

With a heavy heart, Elowyn released her grip on the ledge and turned away from the calming vista, determined to seek out her sister. As she made her way through the castle corridors, she couldn’t help but feel like she was always following in Elyria’s footsteps, chasing after the shadow her sister left behind to follow.