Page 84 of The Divine Shallows
Slowly, she parted her lips, and streams of moonlight poured forth, flowing down her body in rivulets. The currents continued their descent until they mingled with the waters of the Divine Shallows, forming luminous clouds around her feet.
Elowyn felt a compelling force tug her attention back to the High Priestess, guiding her gaze towards the center of the Divine Shallows where she awaited what was to come. Her eyes noted the open mouth of the High Priestess, but beyond that, she also sensed the presence of anotherworldly being, its voice resonating powerfully within her mind. As it always had been, the primordial voice was neither male nor female, unable to be placed.
In unison, the voices of the High Priestess and the primordial being filled Elowyn’s mind, speaking in the ancient tongue of the fey.
“Since the dawn of the New Age, every seventh year, seven candidates have been chosen to face Caena’s judgment in her divine Trial. The Moon Goddess has made her choice, designating one candidate from each kingdom. It is time to reveal her selection.”
The eager anticipation that had filled the Temple moments ago dissipated, replaced by a candid realization. Elowyn understood, as did everyone in the congregation of the Temple. There were no kings clenching their fists, no queens holding their breath, no hopeful aspirants yearning for greatness.
This Seventh Day held no speculation about who would be chosen by the Goddess.
Once again, the rich voice enveloped the minds of the assembly, its gentle caress embracing their auras.
“Let us now begin the unveiling of the seven candidates who will partake in the forthcoming Trial of Caena.”
Elowyn bowed her head, focusing on the rhythmic ebb and flow of the currents before her. She remained fixed on the ground, undistracted even as she sensed movement across the room. The faint shimmer of moonlight amidst the Temple’s shadows was unmistakable—another fey’s palms were alight with a sacred glow.
Silently, Elowyn tallied the candidates from each of the seven realms. She held an unshakeable certainty as to which names would be announced, she was as certain as how the moon rises with each night and falls with each dawn.
The hallowed voices in Elowyn’s mind declared, “Princess Syrilla Skyborn of House Skyborn, step forth into the Divine Shallows andclaim your candidacy.”
One. Promise me that you will remember, Elowyn.
Whispers of the ‘sacred seven’ rippled through the room. Yet, Elowyn remained steadfast, her gaze fixed downward.
“Prince Draeden Darkmaw of House Darkmaw, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Two. Remember it for how it was.
“Princess Nynerra Driftmoor of House Driftmoor, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Three. Remember it for how it is.
“Prince Caswin Mirthwood of House Mirthwood, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Four. Remember it for how it will be.
“Prince Llyr Blackbane of House Blackbane, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Five. Remember everything.
“Prince Theoden Bloodweaver of House Bloodweaver, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Six. Because I do, I remember.
At this moment, Elowyn lifted her gaze as the primordial voice unveiled the last chosen candidate.
“Princess Elowyn Fangwright of House Fangwright, step forth into the Divine Shallows and claim your candidacy.”
Seven. And I’ve run out of time.
Elowyn sensed a primordial tug in her chest, an inexplicable sensation that flooded her beingwith wonder, akin to the moment her soul intertwined with the Eternal Tethering bond. Just like her counterparts, the ivory inked crescent moons on Elowyn’s palms began to radiate with the gentle light of the moon. Yielding to the divine summons of the Goddess, she moved instinctively, her feet carrying her forward as if guided by forces beyond her grasp.
Her glowing palms seemed detached from her own will as they gathered the fabric of her ruby red skirts, moving her towards the edge of the hallowed waters. With a hesitant breath, she stepped into the inviting waters, feeling an ethereal warmth she knew only the Goddess could devise. As she waded towards the stone-tile firedrake, memories of Elyria’s sudden disappearance flooded her mind, leaving behind a void she couldn’t fill.
Mustering her courage, she agreed to the sacred stone’s blind bargain, as one reluctant foot settled upon the tile firedrake. A surge of divine magic engulfed her as it coursed through her body, seeping into her flesh and bone. With determination, she placed her other foot within the stone ring, standing firmly at the heart of House Fangwright’s sigil, her presence acknowledged by the brilliant glow beneath her.
The primordial voice resonated in her mind for one last time, marking the end of the Ceremony of Caena. Yet, unlike before, there were no jubilant cheers or applause echoing through the Temple.
