Page 54 of The Divine Shallows
“Hi, Lyra,” Elowyn greeted warmly. “You remember my sister, Elyria, right?”
“Of course. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Princess Elyria,” Lyra said with a curtsy and a smile. “You always carry yourself with such grace during the rituals. I wish Sylas could do the same.”
Sylas colored at his sister’s remark. “Hey! I’m doing just fine, Lyra.”
“I think you’re doing great,” Elyria chimed in, her laughter as sweet as spun sugar. “I should know after all, I’m a candidate, too.”
Sylas’ face flushed even more as he rubbed the back of his neck, extending his hand towards Elyria. “Um, Elyria… Would you care to dance?”
Lyra’s jaw dropped in surprise, her curiosity flaring.
“It would be my pleasure,” Elyria replied with a smile, taking Sylas’ hand as he led her to an open space where other courtiers were dancing.
Lyra turned to Elowyn, her jaw still agape, and grabbed her arm. “By the Goddess, did you see that?”
Elowyn was momentarily taken aback by Lyra’s touch but relaxed, responding with a wry smirk. “Oh, yes. Sylas is clearly smitten with Elyria, and she seems equally enchanted.”
“I’ve never seen Sylas show any interest in a female before,” Lyra remarked, her hands clasped together, eyes alight with realization. “But soon, they’ll be entering the Trial of Caena together. I’ve heard the soul-bonds formed between lovers in the Trials are unparalleled.Just imagine if they were to emerge from the Divine Shallows hand-in-hand?” Lyra sighed wistfully. “How romantic would that be?”
“Well, when it comes to the Trial, ‘romantic’ might not be the word I’d use,” Elowyn replied, amused. “But you do seem to be in better spirits than the last time we spoke.”
“I am!” Lyra beamed. “I’m taking your advice and sharing my happiness with those who nurture it. Yesterday, Prince Caswin looked stunning, but I ended up opting for this charming warlock from Driftmoor. And today, I already have my eye on a few divine warlocks here. That one over there in the ochre surcoat seems particularly intriguing.”
“Oh,” Elowyn began, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m not sure if that’s exactly what I was trying to convey with my advice, but if it’s making you happier, then I’m all for it.”
“I know that look, Elowyn. Don’t worry, a bit of physical touch is just what I need right now,” Lyra teased. “After all, the bodies of the fey were crafted to be impressive and alluring for a reason. I’m just enjoying myself while exploring that reason.”
Lyra winked at Elowyn, her smile dazzling. Elowyn couldn’t help but smile back. Lyra was as gorgeous as she was enchanting. With her long, flowing mahogany locks and her mesmerizing green eyes, she held an irresistible charm. It was no wonder she could captivate anyone she met, leaving a lasting impression.
“If you ever decide you need a friend instead of a dreamy warlock, I’m here,” Elowyn teased. “Though I must admit that warlock in the ochre surcoatisquite striking.”
“Yes, he’s quite something,” Lyra sighed, then shifted her gaze to the left. “I have my eye on that one as well. Oh, Elowyn, help me decide.”
“What’s the determining factor?” Elowyn tilted her head, glancing.
“I’m not for certain… However, there’s only one way to find out,” Lyra whispered to Elowyn, leaning in close. “After I’ve had my fun with both of them, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Lyra’s laughter rang out like a chorus of bells as she squeezedElowyn’s hand before floating off towards the male who had caught her eye. Elowyn smiled to herself, silently rooting for her new friend. Despite Lyra’s heavy aura, there was a glimmer of light within her, surrounded by darkness. That flicker of healing and hope burned brighter than ever, even more so than in the Iron Hollows. It reassured Elowyn that Lyra would eventually find contentment someday.
Turning her gaze, Elowyn watched her older sister twirl with Sylas on the grand dance floor, a smile gracing her lips. What if Lyra was onto something about them entering the Trial of Caena together? Elyria deserved all the love and happiness in the world. Perhaps Sylas would be her perfect match for a soul-bond. Elowyn couldn’t help but wonder if Elyria would even desire to soul-bond with another fey.
Elowyn was well aware of the rarity of soul-bonds in Neramyr. From a young age, she had been taught that only three types of soul-bonds existed in history: the soul-bond of Eternal Tethering, the bond between a fey and theiranimus, and the marriage soul-bond. While some believed these bonds were exclusive to the New Age, chroniclers argued that they also existed during the Old Age.
Elowyn knew of the eternal soul-bond that could form between two fey—her tether to Finnor still haunted her now. She was also familiar with the bond to a divineanimus, as her father, mother, and uncle had all formed such bonds during their Trial of Caena. Without these bonds, Stryx, Bane, and Nerys would cease to exist in this realm.
The last type of soul-bond that could be formed was between two fey. This bond was born from devotion, passion, and love. It could be initiated by two fey speaking ancient, sacred words together, casting a spell that permanently bound their souls. This bond would endure as long as breaths fell from their lips and their hearts beat with ichor. It was an oath that lasted as long as their souls roamed the feylands, enduring not only in this realm but also in all realms beyond.
The marriage soul-bond among the fey could only be formed once, its binding eternal. However, not all soul-bonds among fey werecreated equal. Some could be more powerful and ideal than others, depending on the strength of the match. Many fey chose to forego this ritual, choosing to exist without the risk that their bond to another may not be as absolute as they believed—to ignore that maybe there was a soul-bond match out there that suited them or their chosen lover more.
Elowyn frowned as she considered this. With the burden of another tethered soul, would she ever find the perfect marriage soul-bond in her lifetime? Did her divine tethering to Finnor condemn her to a life of imperfect matches?
Since she was a feyling, Elowyn had always held onto the belief that she would find someone who would complement her completely, without reservation. She dreamed of finding her perfect match, a prince who would stand as her equal.
Her worries faded as she spotted Draeden across the hall, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. He held her within his golden gaze and waved, his dimples claiming her heart.
Elowyn moved towards Draeden, eager to bridge the gap, but her path was blocked as someone stepped in between them.
Elowyn came to an abrupt halt as she found herself face-to-face with princess of Prymont, Syrilla Skyborn.
