Chapter 8Banquet of the Blessed
8
Banquet of the Blessed
The echoes of Elowyn’s heels clacked off the polished stone flooring as she stepped into the Temple’s grand foyer. Above her, a circular skylight framed the ceiling allowing streams of sunlight into the open space. Though her mind urged her to head straight for the Heart of the Temple, her feet led her to a wall engraved with Neramyr’s rich history.
The wall depicted the seven feylands in intricate detail, each blade of grass even scored with precision. It was a tribute to the land of the fey and the Temple’s purpose—to honor the Moon Goddess and preserved the very cave where the original seven warlocks and sorceresses sought refuge during the Old Age. Within the Heart of the Temple lay the Divine Shallows, the ancient waters where Caena had emerged to save the first fey from slaughter.
On this hallowed ground, Caena had bestowed her Mark upon the original seven warlocks and sorceresses, granting them an ability to wield divine magic, the very same otherworldly magic that was blessed upon her palms after birth.
As the crowd around her thinned, Elowyn rested her wandering thoughts and headed for the entrance to the Heart of the Temple. Striding to the central spiral staircase, she descended to the lowest level of the Temple. As she hastened her steps, she was mindful not to trip over the skirts of her dress. Soon, she reached the lowermost level, where the walls bore an even more elaborate depiction of the Moon Goddess’ origin.
In this empty space stood a magnificent stone archway, a mighty presence. Elowyn approached it, peering beyond the curved stone pillars to observe the magical ward that concealed the entrance to the Heart of the Temple. This sacred entrance was similar to a moongate, but significantly more complex and sophisticated than a mere portal. This divine portal was created millennia ago by the original seven warlocks and sorceresses, their ancient powers sustaining it to this day.
The portal projected an illusion of a midnight skyscape, its dusky azure canvas was a boundless cosmos sprinkled with a sea of stars. Celestial comets streaked across the enchantment, leaving shimmering trails of starlight in their wake. This magical gateway captured the essence of the Heart of the Temple, the most sacred place in all of Neramyr. And within it, Elowyn sensed the primordial aura of the ancient magic that sourced the ward. To say it was breathtaking would only describe a fraction of its beauty.
Artfully engraved onto the marble pillars of the stone archway were the names of the original fey rulers of Neramyr. Elowyn had been taught from an early age that these monikers held more than mere symbolism; they were imbued with the magic of the ancient warlocks and sorceresses they represented. With a gentle touch, she traced the curves of the closest inscription with her fingers: Elmyr Fangwright, the first king of Eriden.
The story of this sacred ward traced back to the dawn of the New Age itself: the seven founding fey sacrificed a portion of their divine magic bestowed by the Goddess to create this protective barrier around the Divine Shallows. It was a selfless act to ensure the eternal preservation of these sacred waters. This act hailed generations of divine magic wielders who defended Neramyr against the evils of the Old Age, maintaining an era of peace.
Taking a steady breath, Elowyn brought her thumb to her lips and pricked her skin, coaxing a small crimson bead to swell to the surface. She placed her thumb upon King Elmyr’s name, pressing the blood into the marble—an offering to her ancestor. The marble marked red, then emitted a pulse of ancient magic. Her blood offering began to shimmer with a pale moonlight glow before vanishing entirely, signifying acceptance by the sacred archway.
Elowyn learned that this ritual served as a gesture of respect to the founding fey and to Neramyr itself. It symbolized a drop of her life offered in tribute to King Elmyr and to honor to all those who had come before her. As a feyling, Elowyn once speculated that these blood offerings sustained the ancient magic protecting the Heart of the Temple. However, she later discovered that every fey who entered the temple performed the same ritual, each honoring their respective House in this tradition.
The archway called to her, and Elowyn heeded its silent summons, crossing into the illusion of the midnight sky. She felt a surge of energy enveloping her, heightening her senses as she awaited entry to the Heart of the Temple.
A fleeting moment passed and she appeared in the Heart of the Temple.
Now amidst a gathering of fey nobility and courtiers, Elowyn surveyed her surroundings. She had ventured into the Heart of the Temple only a few times before, the most significant occasion being her birth when she faced Caena’s judgment in the Divine Shallows.
As Elowyn navigated through the crowd, many individuals graciously made way for her, likely due to the aureum draping from her shoulders. Pressing onward, she made her way towards the area designated for House Fangwright during the ritual. Along the journey, she exchanged polite smiles with both strangers and familiar faces until she finally reached her destination. Spotting her parents positioned near the Divine Shallows, she took her rightful place standing behind them.
The ritual of the First Day was about to begin, with the High Priestess already stationed within the Divine Shallows at its center. The scene before Elowyn nearly mirrored the memory she had of it from seven years prior. She recalled that the First Day was one of the most, if not the most, celebrated day of the Ceremony. This day marked the return of candidates from their seven-year Trial, emerging as divine warlocks or sorceresses—the greatest magical status one can achieve in their lifetime.
Sensing a familiar presence beside her, Elowyn turned to see Elyria’s reassuring face. With a soft smile, Elowyn greeted her sister, mind-whispering a quiet “hey” . Elyria responded in kind, slipping her hand into Elowyn’s, offering a gentle squeeze before releasing it. Together, they directed their attention towards the High Priestess standing amidst the ancient waters of the Divine Shallows.
At the center stood the High Priestess, atop a flat circular stone depicting an illustration of a crescent moon. Surrounding her were the seven stone sigils representing the Houses of Neramyr. These sigils encircled the High Priestess, leaving ample space between them, each dedicated to a noble lineage.
The sigil nearest to Elowyn belonged to House Fangwright, marked by a firedrake etched into the flat stone. This would be the very spot where she would eventually stand if chosen by the Goddess on the Seventh Day to claim her divine candidacy. To her right, the next stone bore the sigil of House Bloodweaver—a basilisk coiled on the stone. Following it was the grimwolf of House Mirthwood, then the phoenix of House Skyborn. Next came the gryphon of House Darkmaw, the loch hydra of House Driftmoor, and finally, the winged ophis of House Blackbane.
As the High Priestess shifted from the Divine Shallows, a hush fell over the Temple. Her voice resonated through the chamber as she addressed the assembled fey.
“Fey of Neramyr, I bid you welcome to the Temple of Caena,” she began, her gaze sweeping over the attentive crowd. “Today, we gather to witness the First Day of the Ceremony—a sacred day when Caena opens the gates to her realm once more for the return of the candidates who embarked on her Trial seven years ago.”
Her words rang louder as she continued, “These candidates were granted the chance to traverse the Bridge Between Worlds and seek divine judgment. Should they prove worthy, the Goddess will bestow her sacred Mark upon them, granting the gift of her divine magic to wield in Neramyr.” The markings along her arms glowed, emphasizing her words. “Let us ask the Goddess for her guidance as these candidates return to Neramyr.”
Turning to each of the monarchs of the seven realms, the High Priestess nodded once. She raised her palms upward, and the iridescent markings along her weathered arms ignited with moonlight, emanating ethereal energy. Below her, the ancient waters churned and swirled at her calves. Soon, the air in the Temple thrummed with power.
“It’s time, we must begin,” the High Priestess declared.
Elowyn observed as the fourteen rulers of Neramyr approached the Divine Shallows with upturned palms, summoning their divine magic. The moon-blessed markings on their skin glowed in unison with the High Priestess’. It was always a powerful sight to behold—the strongest wielders of divine magic summoning their power as one.
Amidst this display, the High Priestess began to chant in the ancient language of the fey, and the water beneath her became turbulent, rippling and eddying around her feet. Anticipation filled the Temple as the High Priestess and the monarchs continued to channel their magic into the swirling waters of the Divine Shallows. The magic in the Temple swelled until it reached an apex.
Then, the High Priestess ceased her incantations. “The Moon Goddess has opened the gates to her realm, and we now await the divine candidates as they return from the Bridge Between Worlds! Let us welcome their arrival back to Neramyr!”
A faint glow blossomed from the waters within the Divine Shallows, hovering above the sigil of House Bloodweaver. Elowyn’s gaze remained fixed on the shimmering spot, feeling a surge of divine power radiate from the stone. Her breath caught as a figure broke the surface of the ancient waters, rising slowly from the shallows. Encased in divine magic, the figure appeared as though bathed in moonlight. Straining her eyes, Elowyn discerned the figure to be a warlock.
As the warlock fully emerged and stood upon the sigil of House Bloodweaver, the once-rippling waters surrounding his silhouette calmed. Elowyn squinted, attempting to make out the warlock’s features amidst the divine aura, when the fey of House Bloodweaver erupted in celebration. Spotting King Wilden and Queen Irena beaming with pride, and even Theo joining in the applause, Elowyn couldn’t help but smile.
The divine energy surrounding the warlock gradually faded, and he raised a triumphant arm towards the ceiling. The Temple erupted with cheers, but gasps soon followed as the onlookers noticed the fanged basilisk coiled around the warlock’s extended arm—a rare creature procured from the divine Trial. A divine animus . Lowering his arm, the warlock turned to face the High Priestess, bending one knee, and bowing his head before her.
Taking the warlock’s palms in hers, the High Priestess began to chant once more in the ancient tongue. As her incantations filled the air, the warlock became cloaked in pale moonlight, his entire form glowing with radiant energy as the moonlight embedded itself into his being.
Elowyn was captivated by the divine markings that began to manifest on the warlock’s skin. Starting from his legs, the divine energy traced concentric patterns of reptilian scales, winding its way up his torso and neck in delicate strokes of moonlight. The iridescent reptilian markings continued to trace his body, shimmering as they drifted down his arms until they finally coalesced at his palms, framing the central crescent moon. The warlock remained on one knee while the final Mark was bestowed upon him.
As the divine energy surrounding him subsided and the moonlight faded, the High Priestess released his hands and turned to address the crowd. “Caena has marked another child of the moon!” she proclaimed. “And furthermore, he has emerged from the Bridge Between Worlds with a soul-bonded animus ! It is with great honor that I announce the return of your primis , Prince Thomys Bloodweaver!”
Another wave of cheers erupted from the onlookers surrounding the Divine Shallows as Prince Thomys turned to face them, grinning proudly as he lifted the arm coiled with his soul-bonded basilisk once more. Meanwhile, the remaining six candidates emerged one by one from the Divine Shallows, each receiving their final markings.
Amidst the celebration, a sense of unity and belonging washed over Elowyn as she witnessed the ritual of the First Day. Being in the presence of the powerful ancient waters, she felt a deep connection and an unspoken longing stirred within her. It ignited her desire to one day emerge from the Divine Shallows bathed in the shimmering moonlight, to bear the final divine markings herself.
Among the seven candidates emerging from the Divine Shallows, Elowyn could only recognize Prince Thomys Bloodweaver. This cohort comprised a diverse mix of noblefolk and commoners: one royal, five nobles, and a lone commoner. It was rare for a royal to be chosen, given the number of royalty in the feylands, but even rarer was the selection of a commoner over highborn fey. The Fangwright warlock represented this rarity in the divine cohort.
As the newly divine warlock of House Fangwright emerged from the Divine Shallows covered in markings, Elowyn did not recognize him. This was unsurprising, given she was familiar with only those stemming from a small circle of her own court. The warlock approached her father, exchanging nods and handshakes in a display of mutual respect. Elowyn observed with curiosity and a hint of suspicion as her father and the Fangwright warlock greeted each other as old friends, sealing the moment with a one-armed hug.
Though she joined in the celebrations with the fey of Eriden, Elowyn remained cautious, especially upon learning the warlock’s name: Finnor Wynward. Any powerful fey who shared a close bond with her father warranted her wariness.
As the newly anointed divine fey returned to Neramyr and the gates to Caena’s realm closed once more, leaving the Divine Shallows empty, the High Priestess’ commanding voice pierced the air, drawing the attention of all present.
“Fey of Neramyr, we welcome back the seven fey who have successfully completed the Trial of Caena. Upon their return, they are granted the gift of wielding the Goddess’ divine magic. With fealty, loyalty, and allegiance, these fey will serve the seven kingdoms in this realm and into all the realms beyond!”
The High Priestess concluded her words with a resounding clap, igniting a wave of enthusiastic applause from the gathered crowd. Extending her arm toward the newly marked fey, she continued, “Let us honor these seven divine warlocks and sorceresses who have braved the judgment of the Moon Goddess and returned to us bearing the final Mark! The First Day’s ritual now draws to a close. Let us partake in the Banquet of the Blessed—The festivities will resume in the kingdom of Eriden!”
As the High Priestess finished her address, Elowyn felt a knot tighten in her stomach, the days ahead seeming to shrink in duration. On the Seventh Day, her older sister would embark on her own Trial of Caena, and Elowyn herself would discover whether she too was to be chosen as a divine candidate.
Elowyn couldn’t dispel the foreboding feelings that consumed her aura. It became apparent that everything happening was the way the Goddess intended it to be, but she couldn’t help but feel like some part of it was very wrong. Yet, all she could do was steel herself for the night ahead, holding her head high in preparation of what was to come.