Astraea

This evening is shaping up to be an intricate web of resolutions and binding fates to one another. And it’s not just us, more than once I’ve witnessed a group of Lunarians swear oaths.

Six spacious underground chambers branch off from the central trunk of the tree spire. What feels like the entirety of Mel’Viora’s grove has somehow managed to fit down here with room for guests. All of them seem to be united in an intent to exchange gifts, favors, and to assess those who are soon to be bound to whatever purposes Lunaria demands.

Amari has been a sight to behold, deftly working a number of different Lunarians from the various chambers into giving us enough information to grasp the intricacies of what is shaping up to indeed be a multiple day affair.

For our purposes, my Princess and their Seers are to be bound on the first day. After getting what rest I could afford, Amari and Idra agreed that anything we wish to achieve is best to be done early before any particular Primeval Seer takes too keen an interest in any of us.

Assuming all goes well, there is no reason why Amari cannot hold our own little ceremony in private in celebration. She wraps her tail around me beneath the table whenever she thinks she can get away with it.

As far as I’m concerned, it is well deserved.

In the past few hours alone she has secured herself as the Princess’s financial benefactor, proved to be an insightful conversationalist with Seer Eluned, and secured us a table from which to spy larger gifts like caged prisoners are most likely to be wheeled in - namely the naga the Watchers intended to capture.

But in the off chance Ninth Prince Threnodias does not wish to allow his prizes far from his sight, this westernmost chamber is the only one large enough to support the cages he keeps Amari’s sisters within.

We spend this time entreating with Sapling Seer Eluned, learning the particulars by which Seers are judged. Despite having no interest in a future within Lunaria’s borders, Amari and I make it an opportunity to bond over ways we each find and cultivate the value we see in others. If fulfilling my promise to Amari jeopardizes the position of the Seers, it would be nice to have more insights into what their life would have been like here in Lunaria.

Truth be told, I’ve always had more coin than I knew how to spend. Having Amari so willing to put my fortune to good use almost makes me nostalgic for the days when Sosima filled that same role aboard the Chimera’s Mirage. It left me time to worry about what mattered.

Who can I help? And how?

The main priority is Amari’s sisters, of which there are three.

Idra has already made a nuisance of herself in our stead, purchasing rations for a supply run that can be put towards feeding them.

It falls to me in freeing the sisters and telling them where to go. From there, Amari or Idra will be happy to handle things while I address any immediate consequences. Worst case scenario? I’m to tell them to my Princess, whom they will know by the one who holds the charm that binds them all together as sisters.

My Goddess has remained silent since our falling out. Without her, I might not be capable of miracles. But I suspect that my time in her service as her herald and as a feared pirate captain has earned me more experience than most. So long as I’m mindful of my limits, I should have little to worry about.

Convincing Threnodias into a duel or finding an opportunity to spring Amari’s sisters without a Vylian noble present remain our best plans.

All that stands between me and a joyful binding ceremony or two is a few more unpleasant dinner conversations followed by a daring rescue.

Turning back into the first of many such detestable exchanges, I almost regard it as a shame that Eluned is quick to write off dead ends and constantly narrow her focus to those she deems more deserving.

Thankfully it is not difficult to maintain my composure. I’ve lived a life among pirate lords who could justify anything provided their might was beyond challenging. If I cared to, I could probably fit in like any other Vylian noble.

Seer Eluned must take that as encouragement to test me. “Take little Cerya for example. I’ve been taking great care to rotate through having six entire plantings assigned to work alongside the Thorns at various tasks, with explicit instruction to improve upon anything Cerya teaches them.”

“I sense a lesson in there that she has yet to learn.” Amari says conversationally. “Do these improvements tend to drown out whatever method Cerya is attempting to instill in them?”

“Quite right!” Eluned gets far too excited for my taste. “She needs to learn that she is not going to get anywhere on her own. Besides, as a Seer, direct action is most unbecoming of what she could be capable of!”

Amari tactfully chews over a choice morsel of fruit before committing to a response. “It is not enough to know the craft and intricacies of any one stone, but how a system can be leveraged to overcome the worth of any singular investment. Am I right?”

“Your words suggest a very mercantile understanding, but yes!” Eluned sips from a steaming mug. “Amari, it really has been a delight speaking with someone I don’t have to explain everything to as if they sprouted yesterday.”

My vulpine companion preens. “It has been said that I’ve something of a gift for predatory instincts. Speaking of which, I do believe I overheard that Astraea and her charge intend to resolve this issue with the Cinder Blights before this alliance’s celebrations conclude. ” Amari turns to bat her eyelashes as she offers me an easier opportunity to contribute to the conversation. “Were you not hoping to enlist the Thorned Watchers into serving as support for the kind of display of violence that might set unhealthy expectations for years to come?”

I clear my throat. “Not in so many words, but my understanding is that you keep a crew together if they work well already. I simply did not intend to bring up the topic until Ayre made an appearance.”

Eluned waves off my admittedly paper thin concerns. “I’m quite sure any conflicting arrangements can be forestalled for a cause of elevated importance.”

It is at that point I decide to make a show of noticing the Twelth Prince pacing at the far end of the dining hall. “Isn’t this the anniversary of some conquest of his against the Cinder Blights? Do you think there is a chance he would be interested in joining us?”

That gets a devilish smile out of Eluned. “Oh you can be sure the Twelfth Prince would need no persuasion to take part in hunting his favorite quarry. Besides, if I can dispense any lingering concerns, your Fourteenth has more than proved themselves a worthy match in the eyes of Mel’Viora already.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

No sooner does talk turn to securing our plans for the Thorned Watchers, another batch of senior Watchers enter the room.

I will myself to be unphased as they bring in the latest of many intended gifts to be presented and exchanged during this binding between Imperial powers - a trio of cages containing serpentine individuals.

This is nothing new, I tell myself. Ayre will most assuredly extend to them their protection the moment any of these scalekin are gifted into their care. I don’t have to stand by and accept that anyone here is a body being groomed for my godmother to extend her life with.

At their head, a Watcher in a horned helm introduces herself to the Twelth Prince of Vylia as Iitharna. When she treats him like a child as she does so, I worry Eluned or I might have to intervene.

But Iitharna is quick to pacify the Twelfth Prince with an ice white shard shaped like an oversized dagger. “Peace, Twelfth Prince. Accept this as a gift from one hunter to another.”

Twelve narrows his eyes, but accepts the gift. “What interest should I have in a non magical rock?”

Iitharna gestures to the three serpentine figures bound and contained within cages. “A most curious contraband. You might know it as Vylian’s bane.” This provokes a number of responses throughout the room. Amari, curiously enough, can’t hide a touch of excitement.

Iitharna continues. “Weapons forged from iron ice are one of the few things known to pierce the flesh of an elder Vylian noble.”

Twelve responds with a contemptuous glare at the bound serpents. “Is this meant to be some veiled insult?”

“On the contrary, I had hoped you would help decide which of these serpents to offer the Fourteenth. You have looked so bored of late, Twelfth Prince.” Iiatharna’s murmur gives way to a cruel grin. “I merely thought you would be more interested in hunting prey who might stand a chance of wounding you.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing.” Twelve crosses his arms. “I tire of all these words and posturing.” He pauses to acknowledge the three new arrivals entering the side chamber, his gaze lingering on Fia and Selescia. “It’s not enough to hear your recounting of capturing these serpents. I’d prefer to confirm for myself that they are capable of wielding the tools they craft. It is the least I can do to ensure my younger sibling does not take on the traits of an evolutionary dead end.”

I’m not going to get a better moment to intervene than that. My spaded tail reaches for Amari’s beneath the table, we share a discreet embrace before I rise from where I have been seated.

“I won’t let that happen.” Dressed in full Vylian ceremonial armor of black gemstone and crimson fabrics, I present myself as the Fourteenth’s Sworn Blade. I do hope my Princess does not think it presumptuous. Twelve knows me to be their Sworn Blade. He is not someone we can afford revealing ourselves vulnerable to.

Twelve turns on me, eyes narrowing as I pointedly do not specify which part of their words I took issue with. Their own attire mirrors mine in composition, if not material. A black coat and fuller red cape presents him as Vylian nobility without need or concern for even the illusion of armor. “Ah, yes. You are that new Sworn Blade of my little sibling’s.” His eyes wander down to the spaded tail I’ve made a point to keep hidden until now. “That’s a succubus tail. Fancy yourself a patron of the flesh now, do you? And here I thought you convinced half the court that being known for slaying dragons was all the expertise you needed to offer.”

A voice that has remained silent until now issues from a far table. Unlike Twelfth’s harsh tones, the feminine voice of the Ninth Prince rings with notes of refinement to all who hear it. “I can personally attest to what Lady Wyrmsbane is capable of.” Threnodias rises from his table, shedding a white padded coat to reveal a dress spun in red and gold – cut to artfully expose his neckline, shoulders, and a singular toned leg at the thigh.

He gives up his own seat, gesturing to it and the only other vacant chair for Fia and Selescia join his table filled with brides. Only when they are seated does he excuse himself to circle around the dining hall, favoring us with eyes and lips done up in crimson hues. Subtle flecks of gold glimmer at the edge of his face in the light.

Twelve issues a warning growl as his gaze sweeps between the two of us, diminished only by the stark comparison of being a head and a half shorter than either of us. “Respectfully, Ninth, you were afield when Lady Wyrmsbane bent the knee.”

His older sibling’s reply is thick with an airy contempt. “Contrary to what dueling law would have you believe, there is more to taking one’s measure than what the court itself can personally witness.” Threnodias regards me with a very pointed glare. “The deeds of Lady Wyrmsbane are writ upon battlefields we have shared. I know not how you came to serve at the behest of one of our own, but I’ll not suffer anyone here thinking you incapable of handling a blade.”

Seeing my chance, I take it. “There’s no sense allowing any bad blood between us to linger. Care to give Lunaria a demonstration? Put me through my paces. We can make a duel of it, even.”

The eyes of Threnodias slowly narrow into golden pin pricks amidst inky black sclera. “I had hoped to settle my grievances with you in private, but I suppose today is all about showing the Primeval Seers what you and my little scaled sibling are capable of.”

He’s been kept apprised of Ayre’s changes, I note. But my focus lingers on an apparent grudge that I can no doubt use to bait him into willingly betting something important. “Shall we limit ourselves to first blood? Or do my accomplishments demand a pound of flesh?”

The Ninth Prince holds his focused gaze in silence, allowing my bravado to seem quaint and distant before he deems my challenge worthy of a reply. “I shall not draw my blade for anything less than what you have taken from me. The terms are a life for a life. First to yield. If you can commit to that, we can have ourselves a duel. Otherwise, go bother Twelve for a duel.”

The room falls silent at that. A number of Watchers serving as messenger runners for the Primeval Seers abruptly leave the room.

My gaze flicks to Amari, prompting a frown from Threnodias. “I accept. But on one condition.”

It won’t matter, Threnodias’s expression seems to say. “Let's hear it.”

“The life I took. Which Princess was it?”

Threnodias snarls. “Tenth. I was not at court in part to clean up the power vacuum left in the wake of her death. I can only surmise that you yet live because word did not reach court before you bent the knee.”

I am very keenly aware of how the gaze of the rest of the room has turned immediately hostile.

So I throw my head back and laugh. “Is that all? I had hoped I had chanced upon the top five at least. Still, the life of an Elder Vylian has got to be worth more than a singular life.”

“Name your terms, Herald of Midnight!” His reply is a whip crack that signals this conversation is coming to an end.

Gales.

I might have just bitten off more than I can chew.

“I’ve taken a shine to your Amari. My terms are a matched set of four.”

“Fine.” Threnodias inhales sharply before expressing a wicked grin. “But before I get revenge for the sister you took from me, know that in exchange, I intend to claim the names of everyone you hold dear.”

Amari is out of her seat and throwing herself between us before weapons can be fetched. “I am not a trophy for either of you to wager!”

Threnodias pries silk white gloves from his hands with airy contempt. “Getting cold feet little schemer? Will you accept being my trophy to give away if I personally guarantee that Lady Wyrmsbane and you will be allowed to leave this grove alive? Provided of course that she wins.”

Before Amari or I can come up with a response, a pale skinned woman in a black robe and cold blue lips interjects. “As the Lady of Rags of the Vylian court, I Headmistress Freide and personal advisor to the once Queen Hypatia, would be happy to guarantee this duel’s results are respected. Regardless of whether the Ninth Prince or my godchild claim victory.”

My blood runs cold at the mention of my mother’s name.

Seer Eluned chortles. “There you have it, Amari. You’ll get no guarantee as likely to last than one offered by an undying Lich.”

Freide and I hold each other’s gaze.

Rags? Godmother, is that really you?

I am left to grapple with the experience of finding a familiar expression of unshakable confidence coming from an unfamiliar face.

Knowing that it is a confidence in me does little to distract from the deepening pit in my stomach that forms over knowing my godmother has taken the body of another young woman.

Lady Midnight, if you’re listening, I could really use your help. Grant me the strength to put this mess we’ve made to rights.

With my silent prayer comes a deep and solemn breath. When I exhale, it is with the breath of another. Granted an unexpected blessing, a howling gale begins to manifest in the facsimile of a glaive.

I grip it tight, hoping against hope that my Lady Midnight’s weapon remains an expression of faith strong enough to pierce the flesh of an elder Vylian noble.