Page 17 of The Divine Shallows
Naturally, these adjusted wards functioned to allow only invited guests entry; any unauthorized individualstrespassing on the castle grounds risked dire consequences.
During her leisurely stroll, Elowyn paused beside a dewberry tree with petite blossoms. While she appeared to be studying the delicate cream-colored petals intently, beneath the folds of her golden gown, Elowyn nervously tapped her foot. Her mother emphasized the importance of her and Elyria’s presence before the arrival of the representatives from the other six kingdoms. Elowyn did not want to find out the repercussions if her sister failed to meet her mother’s demands.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as she sensed a looming shadow above her. Gliding gracefully through the open expanse of sky, Elowyn discerned the distinctive form of a sleek sapphire-winged firedrake silhouetted behind a patch of clouds.
Nerys.
It seemed that her Uncle Edwyn was the first to arrive in Eriden.
The sapphire dragon arced down to the royal gardens and landed before Elowyn with broad flaps from its leather-like wings. Elowyn watched her Uncle Edwyn as he swung one leg over Nerys’s spine and dismounted, landing firmly on his feet. After his dismount, he patted the massive hide of the sapphire dragon and tenderly stroked her maw. Retrieving a strip of dried meat from a pocket within his cloak, he tossed it towards Nerys. With alarming speed, Nerys snatched the treat from the air and swallowed it whole. Her uncle chuckled, giving Nerys a final pat before turning his attention to Elowyn.
“By the Goddess, is that you Elowyn? Look at how much you’ve grown,” Edwyn smiled at her. “You were just a feyling the last time I saw you.”
In truth, Elowyn struggled to recall much about her uncle. She was merely nine years old when he left Eriden to reside on the coast of the Elune Isles, and this marked the first time she had seen him since the previous Ceremony seven years ago. Given Edwyn’s absence from Eriden for the past decade, he had become almost a stranger to her. Elowyn was unsure how to feel about his familiarity towards her, so she instead opted for an ordinary greeting.
“Welcomehome, Uncle Edwyn. I hope your journey back to Eriden fared well,” Elowyn responded, then added, “It’s lovely to see Nerys. She’s still as beautiful as I remember.”
“I managed to bypass your father’s wards, so I suppose one could say my journey went smoothly enough,” Edwyn chuckled with a hint of resignation. “And it seems Nerys is more thrilled than I am to be back home. She has already reunited with her two brothers.”
Edwyn inclined his head in their direction, and Elowyn spotted Nerys nestled between Stryx and Bane. The trio of dragons lounged together on a dais arranged in the gardens. Elowyn suspected that this arrangement was likely organized by her father. Being greeted by three dragons—three divineanimusno less—made a powerful statement. It was a rare occurrence for fey to encounter a firedrake, and when they did, it often stirred emotions of fear and awe.
Firedrakes were the largestanimusthat a divine fey could soul-bond to, and these sacred dragons were unique to Eriden—a point of pride for her father.
Nevertheless, Elowyn grinned at the three dragons burrowed together like songbirds in a nest. At the sight of the triplet of fire-breathing beasts cuddling, she couldn’t help but feel that they were quite the companionable cadre.
“It’s as if she never left,” Elowyn remarked cheerfully. She suddenly felt bold. “If you don’t mind me asking, Uncle Edwyn, what led to your departure for the Elune Isles so many years ago?”
Elowyn found herself quite curious. Her uncle had rarely been mentioned in conversations since his leave from Eriden. Even though he looked the part, she couldn’t remember if her Uncle Edwyn were like her father, and as hard as she might, she couldn’t place any concrete memories of him.
Elowyn’s uncle stood at a similar height to her father, bearing the same angular features, down to the identical silver eyes and matching four-fanged smile. The only noticeable difference between her uncle and her father was their choice of hairstyle. The king ofEriden maintained shoulder-length hair, always neatly tucked behind his ears and beneath his crown, while her uncle sported a cropped style, trimmed shorter on the sides. Unfortunately, Edwyn’s striking similarity to Elowyn’s father already set her on edge.
When Elowyn inquired about his decade-long absence, Edwyn simply smiled. His lips began to form words but then stopped, as if he had second thoughts about sharing them. It struck Elowyn as odd to see him smile; dressed in the golden regalia of House Fangwright, he bore such a striking resemblance to her father that she had to blink a few times to dispel the illusion. She couldn’t help but wonder what her father would look like if he ever allowed himself to smile.
Edwyn’s aura shifted as something caught his attention behind Elowyn. It was her mother, every ounce the queen of Eriden, gliding into the royal gardens with an air of poise and dignity. Her arms were folded at her waist, hands draped one over the over. Appearing dignified as always, she approached Elowyn and Edwyn, the echoing clacks of her heels resonating on the stone pathway leading to them.
Queen Eddra wore an exquisite gown the color of rich pine, its skirts were waves of woven crepe. The bodice hugged her waist snugly, accentuated by a square neckline that complemented her elegant figure. Even with her long snow-white hair fell loosely around her, each silken strand falling into perfect place, Elowyn’s mother moved with grace. Crowned with a golden diadem and draped in a floor-lengthaureum, she was a picturesque monarch.
The only mar amidst the her mother’s perfection was the look of disdain etched upon her face.
Elowyn winced inwardly, knowing her mother was likely seething with anger over Elyria’s absence in the royal gardens. Yet, something felt amiss. Glancing at her uncle, she noticed a similar sour expression on his face. In an attempt to avoid drawing any attention to herself, Elowyn stepped back, her anxiety mounting, creating a noticeable gap between the two royals.
“Queen Eddra,” her uncle greeted the queen, his tone aloof.
“Prince Edwyn,” Eddra responded, her lips tightening into a thin line as she returned his greeting. “Welcome home.”
A faint furrow creased Edwyn’s brow before smoothing out. Meeting her gaze squarely, he replied, “It’s good to be back.”
The contempt in the air was palpable as Elowyn glanced between her mother and her uncle, feeling a sense of unease. Had something transpired between them ten years ago? Or was there lingering resentment from centuries past when her mother was chosen by the Goddess over him as a divine candidate? Surely there must be some further explanation as to why the animosity between them was so profound.
Queen Eddra broke her gaze from Edwyn first as she began to depart from the royal gardens. Her only directive to Elowyn was an order, “Find Elyria immediately.”
Elowyn nodded in acknowledgment as her mother’s silhouette vanished within the castle walls.
Turning to her uncle, she inquired, “What was that about?”
“It’s nothing, dear,” Edwyn replied with a reassuring smile. Leaving Elowyn to ponder over his cryptic response, Edwyn proceeded to make his way into the castle where he had once grown up and lived.
Elowyn stood there, still processing the exchange between her mother and uncle. It was the first time she had witnessed her mother display such bitterness towards her uncle, and so openly at that. Her mother rarely revealed her emotions, resolute composure being one of her defining traits. Which meant that what happened between her mother and uncle must’ve been truly dreadful.
