Page 2 of Unravelled
“Wait!” the other said, grabbing his shoulder. “Don’t talk to her. She might be a tree sprite”
The girl glared at him. Tree sprites, according to the stories, were small, ugly creatures that delighted in tricking humans. Her sharp tongue got the better of her, as it often did.
“I am not a tree spirit,” she snapped, her voice cutting. “And for all you know, I am a Navigator, and since you have insulted me, I will curse your life to sail forever through chaos.”
The curious boy grinned up at her. Without hesitation, he reached for the knots in the tree, ignoring his friend’s frantic protests. She raised her eyebrows in anticipation, watching as he struggled to find the right handholds.
Finally, she pointed to the correct one, and soon, he was face-to-face with her. Below, the guardian’s voice rose sharply.
“There you are!” The boy ducked down close to the tree trunk. She glanced down to see the guardian grab the smaller boy by the shoulder.
“Now where is he?” the woman demanded. “You know we cannot attend without him.” The boy below shrugged.
“Don’t know. We split up to make it harder for you to find us.” The guardian grumbled in frustration but began dragging the boy away, lecturing him on the consequences of his antics.
Above, the girl turned back to the boy in front of her. His green eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
He smirked, “I wouldn't mind being cursed, as long as it's you doing the cursing.”
1
Mira
The great hall stretched before Mira. A space so vast and elegant it seemed to hold echoes of the past within its stone floor. It was her favorite room in the palace, a place where history and grandeur intertwined. The ancestors had crafted the hall with intention. Long and open, its sheer size lending itself equally to grand balls and solemn ceremonies. At the far end, above the dais, five towering stone arches framed magnificent stained-glass windows.
As the summer sun spilled through the glass, the room bloomed into life. Ruby, gold, and sapphire dancing across the stone. Each window was a masterpiece in its own right, depicting the legendary navigators who had guided their ancestors to safety in ages long past.
There was Kharad and his silver sword, Drala with her hand outstretched, Lyren under the waves, Myrran with her frosted eyes. But in the center window stood Bharas, the kingdom of Bharalyn’s namesake, portrayed with a heart of flame in the dark.
Mira’s gaze lingered on Bharas. The dark and grey glass depicted him kneeling, hands outstretched, with a radiant red glow at the center of his chest. She had often visited this room to admire how the streams of sunlight made his heart seem alive, flickering and shifting, as if truly ablaze. It was a moment frozen in time, showing him at his most distraught, burning with everything he had sacrificed and left behind for her ancestors. A testament to his ultimate duty.
A sharp cough interrupted her thoughts.
Mira blinked and looked over towards the sound. Cleric Perrin stood nearby, waiting. A woman in her mid-thirties, composed and steady, with the presence that quiets a room without asking.
Her white robes were simple but finely made, flowing in clean lines that spoke of ritual and reverence. She measured each movement, as if bearing the weight of tradition and memory. She hid her hair beneath a ceremonial headdress. An ivory silk veil, sheer yet dignified, embroidered with silver threads in the shape of ancientsigils and soft celestial curves. Tiny crystal beads lined the hem, catching the light with each breath she took.
Mira drew in a steadying breath and stepped forward, the black folds of her gown swirling softly at her feet. She came to stand beside Torvyn, their mirrored auburn hair a clear echo of their mother’s. His was slicked back with ceremonial precision, while hers fell in waves.
Torvyn wore deep crimson and silver robes, cut to reveal his broad chest and shoulders. He was regal, imposing, a figure carved for command. Yet Mira knew better. Beneath the sharp lines of his face lived a gentleness, a steady warmth he shared with everyone. She met her brother’s gaze for a brief, grounding moment, before turning to face the crowd, the weight of tradition settling over her like a second cloak.
With a steady voice, she declared for all those gathered in the hall, “I have seen this pair and know they are as one.” Perrin nodded, her voice solemn as she addressed the couple.
“Torvyn and Branh, you are both past your twenty-seventh year, and so I ask this of you in earnest. You enter this bond knowing you cannot break it, you cannot escape it, it will be with you always. This bond will irrevocably link you as one. Not even in death will this bond break. In the eyes of the Navigators, you will be one soul, in two parts.”
Torvyn took Branh’s hands, his movements slow and measured, a calmness radiating from him that Mira had never seen before. In this moment, standing with Branh, he seemed unshaken, at peace in a way that felt brand new. Branh, shorter and stockier than Torvyn, stood solidly at his side. His blonde hair caught the light, and his presence was a steady contrast to Torvyn’s imposing stature.
They had grown up together, first as companions, now as betrothed. Their bond, built on years of laughter and shared silence, showed in the way their voices rang out together. Clear and resolute.
“We do.”
Torvyn smiled softly, his gaze fixed on Branh as if nothing else existed. Slowly, he leaned forward and Branh met him halfway. Their kiss was tender, yet filled with the unspoken promise of their bond. Unshakable, eternal.
For a moment, the crowd seemed to hold its breath. Mira glanced at the empty seat the Queen would have occupied. She shifted her gaze to Caelric, the Crowned Betrothed. His head lulled down, just slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was a nod of acknowledgment, or a quiet slump of grief?
Perrin stepped forward with purpose, her voice a calm current guiding the moment back to the ceremony. “We are witness,” she said. “And the bond is sealed.”
A roar of celebration filled the hall. Voices echoed against the marble walls as the crowd cheered. Torvyn pulled back and took Branh into the center of the great hall.The hall’s edge held a feast, its tables laden with food and drink. Somewhere above, music played, filling the air with a lilting melody. As the crowd dispersed into merriment, Mira watched them dance and smiled. They looked so in love, moving as though the rest of the world had melted away. Mira lingered for a moment, watching them, then turned toward the feast.
