Page 66 of The Divine Shallows
Draeden bowed deeply and offered a charming smile. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess Elyria. Your sister speaks as highlyof you as she does fondly. I’ve heard so much about you, thanks to this one here.” He nudged Elowyn playfully, and she shrugged in response.
“How could I not talk about my most favorite sister to have ever walked the feylands?” Elowyn remarked.
“Hello, Draeden,” Elyria greeted, dismissing the formalities of their titles with a wave of her hand. “I don’t think a single day has passed this week without Elowyn mentioning the handsome prince who’s been sweeping her off her feet.”
Draeden’s grin widened, his dimples appearing. “Is that so?”
Elowyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. See what you’ve done, Elyria? Now his head is bigger than the moon.”
Watching the two amidst playful banter, Elyria saw her sister laugh with such delight that it made her heart ache. It ached in a bittersweet manner—overjoyed that her little sister appeared so happy, but crestfallen that she would be torn away from her for seven years tomorrow. She hoped that Draeden could offer her comfort and companionship in her absence. As much as she wished this happiness would last, she also feared how fickle love could be. Would Elowyn experience heartbreak? And who would be there to soothe her tears then? While seven years apart seemed measurable in Neramyr, within the Trial, time was fluid and uncertain.
Worry bubbled within her and suddenly she felt she needed a moment alone before the ritual began.
“I’m glad you two found each other,” Elyria said sincerely. “You both seem genuinely happy.” She tried to maintain her composure as she addressed them. “I can see why my sister is fond of you, Draeden. She’s the most important thing in my life, so please do treat her with care.” Elyria’s anxiety began to take root. “And Elowyn, I’ll come find you after theVitus, all right?”
Elowyn looked to her sister with a hint of concern, noticing the sudden shift in her aura. She reached for Elyria’s hand. “Hey, you’re going to do amazing. We’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” Elyria reassured with her best smile. “Trust me, I’ve been preparing for this moment for a long time. And speaking of preparation, I should get going.” With a reassuring squeeze of her sister’s arm and a parting wave to Draeden, she stepped away from them.
Her hurried steps led her to a quiet hallway in the castle, away from the Elune Isles’s Great Hall. She continued down the corridor until she reached a pair of wooden double doors. Pressing her ear against the wood, she listened for any signs of movement or occupants. Hearing nothing, she opened the doors and entered an empty lounge. The decor and furnishings were vibrant and lively, influenced by the beauty of the sea kingdom.
As she wandered around the unoccupied lounge, she felt the tension within her begin to ease. Since childhood, she had taught herself to find peace in insolation. Her thoughts quieted as she focused on her breathing, her fingers trailing along the plush chaise styled after textured beds of coral. Above, a chandelier crafted from cream-colored shells cast a pearlescent glow, reflecting the light in dazzling shades. Spotting a wine decanter on a side table, she poured herself a glass of thevinum, hoping the hosts wouldn’t mind—she was a guest after all. With a shrug to herself, she took a generous sip, relishing the warmth as it traveled down her throat.
Moving to the window overlooking the Swyn Sea, she watched the rhythmic waves and wandering currents course around the castle.
As a child, Ora had regaled her with legends of the fey of the Swyn Sea, claiming they could breathe underwater as effortlessly as they did on land. Ora had also shared a folktale with her, one that spoke of a time long before the Driftmoor castle stood, when the fey of the Elune Isles once dwelled beneath the waves in an undersea kingdom. It was said that Queen Diantha Driftmoor, the first queen of the Elune Isles, had claimed the shores of the Swyn Sea to establish her kingdom following the fall of the Old Age and the dawn of the New Age.
Through her divine magic, the Moon Goddess had rid the Swyn Sea of its cold-hearted kelpies and wicked water spirits, leaving its once troubled blue waters free of foul creatures. In her absence, Caena entrusted Queen Diantha to be the keeper of its peace in her stead.
The new sovereign of the sea had only her sister and a handful of survivors by her side after the Goddess’ liberation of the feylands. Diantha named the feylands upon which she governed the Elune Isles, a collection of seven seemingly uninhabited islands. However, beneath the surface, an entire community existed that had been suppressed by the beasts who lurked in the Old Age.
Queen Diantha soon discovered the existence of merfolk dwelling in the depths of her kingdom. As a compassionate and benevolent ruler, she reached out to the merfolk’s leader, sharing tales of the Moon Goddess’ might and her role in freeing of the feylands. She spoke of the divine magic now coursing through her veins as evidenced by the moonlit markings on her hands and body. Sworn by oath to protect the sea and its waters, she extended her hand in coalition with the merfolk, promising to reign with compassion and understanding.
The merfolk expressed profound gratitude, celebrating their newfound freedom from the oppressive Old Age during which their undersea community had suffered greatly, causing it to splinter and dwindle over the years. Yet, as time passed, the bond between Queen Diantha, the merfolk, and their leader only grew stronger, forging a trusting relationship between the surface dwellers and those beneath the waves. Their alliance solidified into an unbreakable bond.
One day, the merfolk leader humbly requested an audience with the queen above, seeking her hand in marriage. Queen Diantha joyfully accepted his proposal, and their love was celebrated throughout the land and sea, sung for centuries. The sea queen cherished her fey and merfolk kin with unwavering devotion, willing to safeguard their well-being with her life in this realm and in the realms beyond.
For a time, the fey and merfolk existed in a blissful age of harmonyand gaiety. However, one fateful day, the king of the Elune Isles fell gravely ill. Queen Diantha, being fey, outlived her merfolk husband, and was powerless to extend his life. Devastated by his passing, she mourned deeply, her heart heavy with grief. Unable to bear the reminders of all she lost, Diantha refused to drift below the depths of the Swyn Sea, never to return.
From their union, Queen Diantha bore a child of fey and merfolk heritage, capable of existing effortlessly on both land and in the sea. Many inhabitants of the Elune Isles shared this dual inheritance, their lineage tracing back to both fey and merfolk ancestors. Over millennia, this trait continued to be passed down through generations, though this kingdom beneath the waves became lost to lore, known only through retellings of the oldest fey. Merfolk living in the Swyn Sea were now few and far between, the divide between the fey and merfolk widening—time being the faultless reason.
Elyria was unsure of what truths lay in the folklore she had been told. In her youth, she had showered Ora with countless questions about Neramyr’s history, sometimes wondering if her handmaiden concocted stories simply to satisfy her curiosity. Now she sat finishing the last of her wine and returned the goblet. With steady breaths, she welcomed the fresh air wafting in through the window. Straightening her gown, she prepared to rejoin the gathering when she heard hurried footsteps and murmured voices outside the doors.
Panicking, Elyria ducked behind a nearby bookshelf, veiling her aura and cloaking herself with an invisibility spell. The wooden doors swung open, and she strained to hear the low voices that filled the room. Peering cautiously from her hiding spot, she recognized Sylas and another male warlock engaged in a secretive conversation.
Cursing inwardly, Elyria scolded herself for concealing her presence. After all, she was a guest of the Elune Isles, a royal candidate participating in the Ceremony for moon’s sake. She had every right to seek privacy in an empty chamber to prepare for theVitus. Now, if the twowarlocks were to discover her deception, it would cast suspicion on her motives.
The two warlocks continued their conversation in hushed tones, making it difficult for Elyria to discern their words with clarity as they stood with their backs turned to her.
Suddenly, Sylas straightened his posture, running a hand through his hair in a display of unease before releasing an exasperated sigh. “My answer remains the same as it has always been, Kerrick.”
Elyria froze at Sylas’ words, edging slightly closer to the end of her hiding spot to get a better view of the warlock he was addressing. Recognition dawned on her as she realized it was the Driftmoor candidate, Kerrick Graylon, whose name had been spoken by the Goddess seven years ago. However, his face remained obscured behind Sylas’ figure.
“Don’t be foolish, Fenhart,” Kerrick retorted. “One of us deserves to be namedprimisafter theVitus. You know it as well as I do.”
“I want the title ofprimisjust as much as the rest of you, but the decision is not mine, or any of yours for that matter,” Sylas answered, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck in irritation. “It’s the Goddess’ choice alone.”
“TheVitusshould be a showcase of our full potential. How can the Goddess assess our ability to protect the feylands if we’re merely performing parlor tricks on stage? Securing the title ofprimisis crucial for establishing our reputation as divine warlocks or sorceresses,” Kerrick asserted, crossing his arms over his chest. “While only one of us can claim the title,primis, we can still ensure that the rest of us cross the Bridge Between Worlds before her. Consider this, upon our return, we’ll receive the final Mark before she does. The sooner we return, the more divine magic will be at our disposal.”
