Page 79 of The Divine Shallows
Draeden’s words left a sinking feeling in Elowyn’s stomach. She knew he was right. If the Moon Goddess allowed this change, Neramyran tradition was being redefined at her behest.
Changing the subject, Elowyn asked, “Did you know that Sylas is a legacy?”
“No, not at all. I was just as surprised as everyone else in the arena,” he replied. “The Bloodweaver feat is unnerving, to say the least. For your sister to break free of that legacy spell suggests she’s far more powerful than anyone ever imagined. As a feyling, I learned about the seven feats, and I distinctly remember my scholars emphasizing how dangerous moonfire can be. For your sister to wield it to such a degree is beyond comprehension. Despite what the fey of Neramyr may think, I believe she’ll be namedprimistonight.”
“She will. I’m certain of it,” Elowyn affirmed, twirling another strand of her hair. “I still haven’t fully mastered my legacy feat... have you?”
“Not quite,” Draeden chuckled. “But we have time. We have seven years until our Trial.”
“As always, you’re right,” Elowyn conceded, then nudged him teasingly. “I have an idea. How about you make me another enchanted bell and record your words of wisdom for me to listen to whenever I want?”
Draeden’s tone turned serious. “Elowyn, I would never subject an artifact to such misuse. As a magicsmith of integrity, it goes against everything I believe in. Besides, knowing you, the bell would be ragged from overuse within two days!”
“Hey!” Elowyn jabbed him in the ribs this time. “You’re insufferable!”
They both cackled with bright smiles and full laughs that reached their bellies. Draeden hoped that in those moments, Elowyn felt a sense of ease and relief. He saw a beauty in her that could never be captured, even if he spent his whole life crafting an artifact to encompass it.
They lingered in the oasis, savoring each other’s company, letting the worries of the future slip away, if only for a little while. They knew that come the next dawn, their lives would be irrevocably altered, but for now, they found happiness in this moment.
Emerging from a moongate,Finnor moved silently through the walls of Eriden’s castle. His expression remained impassive as he followed a path toward one of the council chambers. Soon, he stopped before an iron door and raised a hand to rap against its hard surface.
“Enter,” came a low voice.
Finnor slipped through the entrance, closing it behind him, and then bowed. “My king.”
“Finnor,” the king responded. “What news of the tether?”
Approaching him, the commander replied, “Her mind still resists the Tethering.”
The king intertwined his fingers, resting his elbows on the armrests of his seat. “Continue to nurture the link; she will accede.”
“Of course.”
“What about her absence last night?”
“The tether revealed her location in Orwyn. I followed, as instructed.”
The king’s brow arched. “Orwyn?”
“Yes. The princess has developed a kinship with a warlock from her cohort.”
“Whom?”
“Draeden Darkmaw.”
King Eamon said curiously, “Kyrus’ successor?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I see.” The king’s expression remained unreadable. “And where is she now?”
“The princess has returned to Eriden. I tracked her arrival moments ago.”
King Eamon’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Can you discern her intentions with the Darkmaw warlock through the bond?”
“From what I can gather, she seems sincere.”
“She will begin her training at the Spires soon. The Darkmawwarlock may prove useful yet.” The king dipped a feathered pen into an inkwell. “Keep me informed of their actions.”
