Page 36 of The Divine Shallows
A moment later, Elowyn smiled. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
12
Weight of Worth
The DenofLunarisexceeded even the royal atrium in beauty, if such a thing were possible. Nearly four times larger, it boasted a network of channeled rivers and feylight waterfalls. Like the atrium, the cavern’s ceiling displayed a star-filled night sky. The gentle glow of moonlight illuminated the spacious, multi-leveled expanse. The natural stone flooring was covered with richly pigmented green moss, while flowing rivers and trickling waterfalls created a soothing chorus. This sacred place was nothing short of breathtaking, imbued with an undeniable sense of divinity.
On each level of the den, hundreds of fey gathered to witness the Favor of the Seven. Lesser nobility occupied the higher tiers, while the seven royal families were positioned on the main level, closest to the central point of the cavern. At the heart of the den, upon a raised stone platform, stood the fourteen warlocks and sorceresses who would soon participate in the rite of the Favor of the Seven. They were arranged intwo parallel lines, their rank distinguished—one line comprised of the newly moon-marked fey, and the other of the current candidates. Their placement followed the established order of the royal houses: House Fangwright, House Blackbane, House Driftmoor, House Darkmaw, House Skyborn, House Mirthwood, and finally, House Bloodweaver.
Surrounding them, the royal families stood in their designated order, remaining close to the fey sworn to their court. Elowyn strained to catch a glimpse of her sister, Elyria, amidst the crowd. Though she could only see Elyria’s back and Finnor standing before her, Elowyn sought any hint of her sister’s expression. But Elyria’s aura remained calm and serene, impervious to the tension that gripped the other candidates. Elyria’s constitution was honed into a steel fortress in the face of the seven realms—she would never break in front of them again.
Elowyn was flooded with a sense of pride and comfort at the sight.
From the corner of her eye, Elowyn noticed the High Priestess emerge from the crowd, striding purposefully towards the center of the den where the fourteen fey stood. As the room fell silent, she weaved through the room. She was dressed in her usual flowing white robes, but for this ritual, she wore an ornate headdress that veiled her entire face. It was boxy, nearly six inches tall with seven points. The front of the headdress was made of sheer ivory organza that fell to her waist in a sheet. The back of the headdress was made of extensive lengths of layered ivory silk that draped across the stone floor with each of her strides. Around her waist were two alabaster cables of corded rope tied around her in a knot. In her hands, she held seven ancient relics from the Old Age.
The gravity of the moment hung in the air.
In the High Priestess’ weathered hands lay a stack of delicate thin sheets of cloth,tela, but they were no mere swatches of fabric. The power emanating from the textile collection was staggering. As the eight phases of the moon along the High Priestess’ worn arms glowed brightly, Elowyn felt chills trickle down her spine. She felt the pure,divine magic that the High Priestess held as she stood before the crowd. Elowyn wondered if she herself could have held such unadulterated power within her own arms without trembling.
“The time has come to begin the ritual of the Favor of the Seven!” The High Priestess’ voice rang clear and resonant in the den. “Gathered here are our newly marked divine fey and our Goddess-chosen candidates who will participate in this season’s Trial. In this sacred ritual, we will ask the seven founding fey to grant their favor upon these new candidates in their quest for distinction.”
Moving to the head of the two lines where the fourteen fey stood facing each other, she continued, “In my arms, I hold seven divinetelablessed by each of the seven original warlocks and sorceresses. These ancient relics of Neramyr have been used in the Favor of the Seven since the dawn of the New Age. Blessed innumerable times by wielders of divine magic, thesetelahave passed through the hands of countless candidates seeking divine judgment. Tonight, we continue this honorable tradition and seek favor from our seven divine ancestors who founded the feylands we cherish.”
Now positioned at the front of the two lines of fey, the High Priestess stood between the newly divine fey on her left and the Goddess-chosen candidates on her right.
“As I call upon the original rulers of their sworn Houses, our newly marked fey shall accept and carry thetelaof their kingdom. Let us begin!” With that, the High Priestess advanced between Finnor and Elyria, still clutching the collection of fabric in her arms.
“King Elmyr Fangwright of the kingdom of Eriden,” her voice echoed.
Upon hearing the name of the founding fey, Finnor carefully withdrew the firsttelafrom the High Priestess’ possession and held it with reverence. “First king of Eriden, we seek your favor to grant upon these seven children of the moon in their upcoming Trial.”
Thetela, made of resplendent silk, rested in Finnor’s palms. If Elowyn didn’t know any better, she would’ve never suspected it existed millennia ago. The ivory strip, about six feet in length and twelve inches in width, appeared almost translucent in design; the gossamer sheets seemed so delicate that they would dissolve by his touch. Woven into the material were various ornamentations and embellishments of the seven realms and the phases of the moon. Finnor’s palms then began to faintly glow in response to the newfound divine magic coursing through his veins.
“King Edhelm Blackbane of the kingdom of Erimead,” the High Priestess intoned, moving down the line as each warlock or sorceress retrieved their kingdom’stela, pleading for favor from their first ruler.
“Queen Diantha Driftmoor of the kingdom of the Elune Isles,” she continued.
A graceful sorceress with sun-kissed skin and turquoise hair stepped forward, claiming her kingdom’stela. “First queen of the Elune Isles, we seek your favor to grant upon these seven children of the moon in their upcoming Trial,” she spoke with reverence.
As she spoke, Elowyn couldn’t help but imagine that her hair resembled the color of the Swyn Sea.
This ritual repeated as Elowyn recalled the names of Neramyr’s founding fey.
“Queen Theda Darkmaw of the kingdom of Orwyn,” announced the High Priestess. A lively sorceress with short claret-red locks stepped forward to claim her kingdom’stela, speaking the venerated words.
“First queen of Orwyn, we seek your favor to grant upon these seven children of the moon in their upcoming Trial,” the divine Darkmaw sorceress pleaded.
Draeden had said she was called Serafina. Her eyes darted through the participants of the ritual, searching for the face of the Darkmaw prince. After a moment of her eye’s eager roaming, she found him.
There he was.
Elowyn’s heart skipped three beats. Draeden looked absolutely devastating. He wore an auburn tunic with accents of rust and gold trimming the sleeves and collar. Clasped on his right shoulder was his goldenaureum, flowing down his side as it paired with the radiant gold of his eyes. His skin was richly tan, and his cropped hair was meticulously arranged, not one claret-red strand out of place. It was as if the season of autumn were embodied in a striking warlock.
Faintly, Elowyn registered the High Priestess calling two more names. “Queen Aedda Skyborn of the kingdom of Prymont, King Oswin Mirthwood of the kingdom of Lochwald.”
The voices and sounds in the den drowned into a distant drone as she locked eyes with Draeden. His intense gaze met hers, and he tilted his head, offering a slight smile that revealed his dimples. Elowyn felt herself nearly swoon at the sight.Moons, he’s distracting. The stars in his eyes twinkled, hinting that he would seek her out after the ritual. Quickly tearing her gaze away before her own aura betrayed her shameless thoughts, she refocused on the ceremony.
“Queen Isadora Bloodweaver of the kingdom of the Iron Hollows,” the High Priestess announced the final name, and Prince Thomys Bloodweaver stepped forward to retrieve his kingdom’stela.
