Page 20 of The Divine Shallows
7
Timeworn Tradition
In the grandeurof Eriden’s Great Hall, courtiers mingled amidst the splendor of Neramyran royalty. The hall’s vaulted ceilings, nearly thirty feet tall, played host to thousands of floating feylight spheres, casting a serene twilight glow upon the guests below. Stained-glass windows lined the walls, their colorful canvases adding to the majestic ambiance. At the end of the hall, a raised platform with stone stairs led to two towering thrones.
Crafted millennia ago, from a colossal redwood tree rooted in the Eriden mountains, the twin thrones stood ten feet tall. Charcoal cushions lined the backs and seats, while intricate gold-plated scales embellished their trimmings. Sharp golden fangs were immaculately molded into the structure beneath the palm rests. Above the thrones, a vast stained-glass window depicted the sigil of House Fangwright—a fearsome firedrake.
Seated upon the thrones were King Eamon and Queen Eddra Fangwright, clad in regal finery. King Eamon’s crown was a golden diadem ofseven peaks and a prominent opal gemstone at its center. Queen Eddra wore a crown made in a similar fashion.
Curled around the base of the thrones were the divineanimusof the monarchs. Stryx, with his chalky coat and sleek scales, coiled around Queen Eddra’s throne, while Bane’s massive charcoal body rested beside King Eamon’s throne, taking up a sizable portion of the platform, the dragon’s torso rising and falling with steady breaths.
Beside the king stood Edwyn Fangwright, the prince of Eriden, with Nerys curled comfortably around his legs. Despite being the smallest of the firedrakes present, Nerys still loomed behind Edwyn, a testament to the formidable reputation of House Fangwright. Throughout history, warlocks and sorceresses from House Fangwright were renowned for their prestigious magic wielding abilities, particularly their distinct psionic powers, often referred to as mind magic.
Throughout the years, the reputation of House Fangwright has wavered from the birth of their firstborn princess, Elyria. It was stated that the kingdom of Eriden was haunted with a cursed fate. This fate was one of being burdened with an unblessed daughter of the moon; a royal child judged to be unworthy of the first Mark. These proclamations festered around the courts of the seven realms, but nonetheless, King Eamon seized the pride and prestige of his bloodline within a vice grip.
There was one unshakable belief that the Fanged King possessed, and it was that he valued his kingdom and its reputation above all else. As King Eamon sat upon his throne, his pensive eyes roamed the dais. He looked to his second-born child, Elowyn, and a pang of reassurance coursed through him. The feeling was akin to preservation rather than pride. Then the king dared to look at his firstborn and the certainty he felt about his kingdom vanished.Deplorable, plagued child.As his eyes beheld Elyria, abhorrence overtook his thoughts and threatened to crack his rehearsed self-control.
Deflecting these thoughts, King Eamon shifted his attentionto the folk within the Great Hall, observing the courtiers mingling in his halls. He studied the revelers of the seven realms sunk deep into their stemmed glasses as they laughed with merriment. He watched as various noblefolk feasted feverishly and overfilled their gluttonous stomachs, rejoicing in reverence to the Moon Goddess.
However, as the Fanged King observed the scene, a dark expression clouded his face, and he scowled in disgust. The sight before him made him want to retch. King Eamon began to grip the golden armrests of this throne rigidly to tame his revulsion, his aura turning turbulent with emotion.
In the next moment, with a swift and forceful tap of his finger, a loud clang reverberated from his throne.
At the sound, Bane, the smoke-gray firedrake, snapped to attention, his relaxed demeanor replaced by vigilance. He rose upright, muscles rippling as he moved, signaling the attention of Stryx and Nerys. The other two dragons followed suit, rising from their laidback positions, and standing tall.
Only a few guests took notice of the three firedrakes standing in waiting, but many of the revelers continued their conversations with vigor. Amidst the noise, Bane leaned forward, bracing himself with his front limbs and thrusted his head upwards, releasing a guttural screech that pierced through the room. In response to Bane’s cry, Stryx and Nerys joined in, adding their own thunderous screeches to the chorus—the three roared, their voices sounding powerful in unison.
The lively atmosphere in the Great Hall quickly fell silent. Some guests staggered back in surprise; audible gasps filled the room. Others watched the firedrakes with a mixture of wonder and fear.
After the dragons finished sounding their call, they lifted their heads upwards once more. Bane’s chest swelled as a burnt orange hue bloomed under his neck, gradually spreading upwards. With a mighty thrust, he released a fiery pillar from his throat, illuminating the hall. Beside him, Stryx and Nerys unleashed their own scorchingflames, creating a trio of fiery columns that merged at a midway point behind the thrones, emblazoning the stained-glass sigil of House Fangwright above them.
As the flames dissipated into wisps of smoke, King Eamon rose from his throne and adjusted his regal attire. He signaled to a nearby servant, who quickly ascended the steps of the dais and offered him a tray of crystal goblets. King Eamon took a glass and strode to the center of the platform, wearing a simulated smile on his face.
King Eamon raised his glass high and declared, “Fey of Neramyr, it is with pride that the kingdom of Eriden welcomes you to the First Day, the Banquet of the Blessed, during this season’s Ceremony of Caena!
“Tonight, we rejoice in the return of the divine candidates who ventured across the Bridge Between Worlds seven years ago. These newly anointed children of the moon will emerge from the Divine Shallows imbued with unparalleled strength and extraordinary abilities—a challenging journey undertaken by only a select few. These remarkable warlocks and sorceresses will continue to uphold the era of peace that has prevailed in the New Age. They will serve the seven realms of Neramyr, protecting our heritage, preserving our legacy, and above all, safeguarding our folk.”
King Eamon began to artfully step across the platform.
“Tonight calls for celebration, as many will be reunited with loved ones after seven long years. The hour approaches when we will gather at the Temple of Caena to witness this sacred ritual. Upon the return of the divine candidates, we shall welcome them with the Banquet of the Blessed—a feast befitting the seven realms, as we honor them with the hospitality deserving of their newfound status.”
With arms outstretched and a strapping smile, King Eamon addressed the crowd, “It fills my heart with joy to witness such merriment within my realm. Please enjoy the beauty and warmth that Eriden has to offer. The feast and festivities of the First Day will continue until light has long since left. Let the revelry resume!”
The Great Hall erupted in applause as King Eamon emptied his goblet and reclaimed his throne. Conversations resumed with renewed energy, laughter echoing through the hall.
Yet, as the atmosphere shifted back to celebration, King Eamon settled back into his throne, his body tense as he tightly grasped the golden scales of the armrest rigidly once more.
Elowyn had only managedto conjure a moongate successfully twelve times in her life thus far. If this attempt succeeded, it would mark the thirteenth time—a considerable number, to say the least. Normally, it was her sister’s expertise that guided them through magical portals, but Elyria had vanished once again after their father’s speech. Such disappearances had become increasingly common lately, but Elowyn chose not to inquire further. After all, this was a week fraught with anxiety, especially for a divine candidate.
With determination, Elowyn readied herself to summon a moongate on her own. The act of conjuring portals to transport oneself was a skill rooted in abjuration magic, a specialty of House Mirthwood and the kingdom of Lochwald.
Already struggling with the psionic magic native to House Fangwright, Elowyn found wielding another House’s magic particularly challenging. It was a source of frustration, especially considering her sister’s effortless mastery of all seven magical disciplines. It would have been aggravating if the two sister’s magical abilities were compared, but instead, the fey of Neramyr seemed to disregard Elyria’s existence entirely.
Sighing, Elowyn adjusted the skirts of her champagne-colored dress, knowing the First Day would carry on without her if she delayed any longer. With a silent prayer to the Goddess, she tapped into her innate power, urging it to heed her command. To her surprise, her nativemagic responded, surging through her arm, and manifesting at her fingertips.
Elowyn channeled this power into the space before her, conjuring two shimmering pillars that coiled and intertwined until they formed a glowing archway. As the archway solidified, a feylight portal shimmered beyond it, standing magnificently before her. Elowyn peered at the moongate, scrutinizing her work.
The portal hummed with otherworldly energy, and it beckoned her to step inside. However, she couldn’t shake the memory of a childhood mishap when she inadvertently transported herself to a foreign destination. It was long ago, but Elowyn still wasn’t sure if she created a portal to this realm. It had taken hours for Elyria to find her, thanks to the link between their charmed necklaces. Without it, locating her would have required a much more advanced location spell.
