Asa 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 footstepsechoed 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 trulyremarkable.
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 wastantamount 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 evenbelieved 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.
5
Night Omens