Chapter 7 – Heirs, apparently

The average Fyrge can live up to the age of thousand, as they age very slowly. Not all of us though, Demiurge is said to have marked certain bloodlines including ours with immortality and eternal youth, thus we are called godlings. These bloodlines weren’t picked on the basis of one’s status but rather the karma of their ancestors. Ours is said to have come from Rainesta Van Valhades, a princess that never married and devoted her life to serving her subjects with generosity.  

I was born on a night where the constellations swirled and danced across the sky. They appeared to have wrapped themselves around the twin crescent moons, gold and silver aligning at the specific moment I was born. I was given the title — Prince of Stars and said to have been marked by Demiurge.

— Prince Ziruth Van Larsson of House Valhades, Personal Accounts of the Valhades Heirs, The Great Hall of Learning

~ Uliya ~

“I let my devotion for you swallow me whole and you threw me up in bits and pieces like I was nothing more than flesh waiting to be devoured. You shattered me, Sylve, and yet when you step into the room all I want to do is beg you to glance my way. To look at me with hope for something deeper. I am held transfixed by your ever-shining light while you shoot arrows into my heart without a flinch—”

I am unable to finish the rest of the sentence as Zir rudely snatches his diary from my hands.

“How many times must I tell you not to touch my personal belongings, Uliya. This is an encroachment on my private world and I do not appreciate it.” He says through clenched teeth before making it disappear with a flick of his magic. It is probably lying invisible on some shelf in his bedchamber back home now.

Cecil and Yer cease their laughter at once. I had been entertaining them with a theatrical narration of the embarrassing unsent letters he wrote to Syveline after she broke his heart. I had found the last remaining box of Zir’s things yet to be sent home through thunder and figured I might find something useful to weaponise against him later.

“I was looking for a snack and got distracted, starshine.” I offer with a flutter of my eyelids, feigning innocence. He would not fall for it, of course, because I picked “starshine” from another old letter where Syveline had used the word to manipulate him into giving her the rare emerald pendant he had originally gotten for Luminara’s birthday, exchanging it for a garnet one instead. I have never liked Syveline or the rest of her traitor family, but I will credit her for being impressively manipulative at fourteen. Nara ended up with the garnet one. Not that it made much difference — she has an ethereal aura that makes her infinitely more striking than anyone else in Fyrgen. Any jewel is fortunate to be worn by her, not the other way around.

He glares at me in a way that communicates I cannot afford to irritate him again for at least a few hours. Sad, but manageable.

“If you are done wasting time, it is time for us to leave for home.”

“Ugh, fine.” I get up with an exaggerated sigh and gesture for Yer to perch on my shoulder.

And all four of us are swallowed by lightning, journeying back to our roots.

~ Zir ~

In a matter of seconds we are home. The sun sits low on the horizon as if welcoming us back from exile. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and tuberose immediately, and the nostalgia of it nearly floors me. The incessant chanting of our names among the crowds makes me wonder how and why I ever left. Why was it never this enchanting during the last Council meeting I was forced to attend three years ago?

“Why in the fallen angel’s pit did you bring us out through the back courtyard? Mama specifically asked you to stop us by the old coffee shop in the town square, where the dragon carriages are waiting to lead us through the crowds to the castle gates.” Uliya asks, eyes already narrowed.

Cecil and Yer perch on the water fountain in front of us and tilt their heads with the same silent question.

I click my tongue and get it out as quickly as possible. “Ah yes, about that. I feel slightly uncomfortable with the idea of parading through such close quarters with the entire population of Citrindally. So why don’t you all go? I will be in my bedchamber. See you at supper.”

Just as I raise my hand to disappear, Cecil flies over and wraps his claws firmly around my fingers, restricting all movement. Then stares directly into my eyes with the bone-chilling bloodshot gaze I have only seen from him once before, and one that was fortunately not directed at me on that occasion.

“Ziruth Van Larsson Valhades. I have tolerated many of your coldblood tantrums for the past six years. But I swear to Demiurge, if you try to rob me of the honour of accompanying you to this grand welcome ceremony by keeping up your reclusive ways, I will scratch your eyeballs out myself.”

I swallow the whimper that naturally built in my throat and clear it with a cough, redirecting my gaze to the other two.

“Always open to a change of plans,” I offer with a grimace. Uliya mutters “Loser” under her breath.

Moments later,

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. It is taking every ounce of my being to keep smiling and waving to the crowds as we slip past them in the carriage. I was a fool to feel nostalgic prematurely. Uliya is in her element beside me though — she seemed nervous before but is clearly thriving on the attention now. This is the first public procession she is attending as a teenager. Mama forbade all of us from attending them before we turned thirteen, stating it would be too overwhelming for a child. Which in hindsight was a wonderful idea. I simply wish she had extended the rule until we were forty. Maybe I would be ready at forty.

Cecil and Yer are rejoicing in the rumble seat, delighted for reasons beyond my comprehension. The good thing is I have effectively avoided being murdered by Cecil. The bond between an assigned companion and a royal runs deep enough for us to sense each other’s emotions and the tone of each other’s thoughts. So he cooled off instantly the moment he sensed I had genuinely been frightened by his threat. And I am fairly certain I even caught a flicker of guilt from him afterwards, while I used my magic to don the white three piece suit Mother had sent the moment she knew we were coming home. A ceremonial mantle is draped across my shoulders, its silver embroidery glinting in the sunlight. A pointed crown of dark sapphire sits low above my head.

“Why are you not smiling?” Uliya says through her easy grin. Unlike my severe crown, hers is a delicate tiara of diamonds and pale gemstones resting lightly against her golden curls. She looks regal in flowing ivory layered with soft silver detailing that shimmers whenever she moves, the gown falling around her like moonlight. I notice she looks healthier than before. She is glowing like a true princess. I am glad we had that conversation.

“How are you still smiling?” I respond sweetly, masking the agitation beneath it lest some passerby hear. Demiurge help me, why is everyone so close? It is suffocating.

They are making our family dragon, Eltasessa — a colossal pale drake draped in gold ceremonial harnesses — crawl like a snail through the crowds. The earlier prospect of Cecil gauging my eyes out does not seem quite so terrible now. At least my eyes would not be subjected to the sight of this frenzied throng pressing in from all sides.

~ Uliya ~

By the time we reach the palace gates and leave the crowds behind, my nervousness about coming home has completely dissipated. I was scared I would feel strange and anxious. But between the crowds cheering for our long lives so loudly the ground beneath us trembled, and the crimson and gold banners swaying between buildings bearing the words “Blood of Valhades, Strength of Our Realm,” I lost all the heavy feelings.

The carriage rolls to a halt before the great twin-arched entryway, where the last gold light of evening stretches across the pale stone in long glowing bands. Beyond the gates, the great towers of Ivorvale climb into a deepening blue sky, their winter-white spires already beginning to catch the first hints of dusk.

The other guards remain stationed in the causeway while our general, Master Hinjk, and Royal Commander Ilias step toward us from the entryway the moment we stop. The former moves to open Zir’s door while the latter opens mine with precision, both in near perfect unison. Then they step back and greet us with bows. I offer them both a smile.

“Hello, Master Hinjk,” Zir says, then turns to the commander. “Ilias, I hope you have both been well.”

“Better than ever. Our job is easier now that all the heirs we have sworn to protect are in one place,” Hinjk adds with a smile of his own and Zir laughs. They lead us through the entryway toward the throne room where our parents await. Cecil and Yer slip away for their own communion with Agnes.

As we proceed I notice how different yet unchanged the palace looks from the inside. I can barely bring myself to remember some of the rooms, which is strange. Is ten really that young an age?

“The western wing was rebuilt after you left, your highness,” Ilias answers from behind me, sensing my confusion.

“Oh.”

“As per the letter, is this not the solarium where you and—?” I whisper to Zir, pointing left, and am immediately rewarded with a deathly glare.

“Keep your brazen mouth shut and stay out of my private affairs. Also, you cannot remember anything else but you recall this specific detail?” He delivers the threat in a matched whisper, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. Ilias coughs behind us while Master Hinjk pretends to be absorbed in the hallway artwork.

A small laugh escapes me despite my best efforts to stay civil. Several maids and guards bow as we pass. He glares at me some more. It is so satisfying to get under his skin.

Soon we are in the central throne room. The council members are seated on either side. Our parents sit at the far end, currently speaking with a female and her child who have come to request compensation for grain lost to a storm the week before.

Mama looks radiant as ever, the silver and gold crown gleaming above her head. Her long golden hair has been neatly gathered into a bun that catches the light like the sun itself. She has worn a beautiful lilac brocade gown today with heavy drapes and elongated sleeves. To others she may be blessed with the sun god’s energy, but to me she has always been the sun embodied.

Father sits beside her with his usual unreadable expression. He looks the same whether happy, sad, angry, calm or excited, so it is always difficult to tell. He has adorned a black sovereign robe of weighted silk with the thin but pointed iron and gold crown he reserves for throne room appearances. Soft brown boots beneath his crisp black trousers.

Mama nods to the treasurer standing beside her and he presents the female with a translucent bag of copper coins.

“Here is a little something for your troubles. I pray to Demiurge that your harvest comes out bountiful next time.”

“Thank you, your majesty, for having such a generous heart.” They both bow and leave through the side gate reserved for the public.

“Let us go,” Zir taps my palm from beside me and I realise we have been standing at the door by ourselves. Hinjk and Ilias must have slipped away.

The public has cleared with the coming evening. Only the guards and maids remain stationed on either side. The moment we begin walking toward our parents, the pianist in the corner starts playing and the guards and maids begin throwing silver petals at us — an old Fyrgen welcoming tradition. This must absolutely have been my mother’s idea. I smother a laugh building in my throat thinking of how much Zir must be suffering and keep my face perfectly straight.

We lower our gazes and bow in unison when we are right before them.

“Your Majesties,” we say together. Performing for the room. If it were not for everyone watching I would run to my mother and never let go again.

“Mhm. What brings you younglings here today?” Father says with that same unreadable expression, though I know he is teasing us. Mother smiles lightly, playing along, her eyes full of quiet affection.

Before I can say anything Zir is already speaking.

“Forgive my incompetence in handling such a petty matter myself, your Majesty. But I came here to beg for justice.”

“In regard to what?”

“This female standing beside me killed my sheep in broad daylight.”

Mama adds a dramatic gasp. “Such a heinous crime. What do you have to say for yourself, lass?”

I shake my head solemnly. “It was a grave mistake, your Majesty. I went to kill this simpleton and got his poor sheep by accident.”

For a silent moment nobody says anything. Then all four of us laugh together. It feels as though there is nobody else in the room and I realise how deeply I have missed them.

~ Zir ~

After meeting our parents and a brief introduction to the seated council members, we dispersed to our individual bedchambers for rest and a change of clothes before the welcome dinner in the private dining hall.

Our bedchambers were also moved as part of the western wing renovation. Mine is a new one on the third floor now, Uliya’s a level below, though not too far — because my mother had another brilliant idea. Brilliant in her terms. Overbearing in mine. She had a spiral staircase connected from my balcony to Uliya’s, so we can easily access each other in case of an emergency. Us. The pair that lived in separate houses for years in the human world and have companions primarily for this exact purpose.

“Mama always takes it one notch beyond my patience,” I say, collapsing onto the long sofa in the antechamber and kicking my shoes off the moment the door closes behind me.

“What did she do?” Cecil pauses mid-sip from his pitcher on the mantelpiece. He was not back yet when Mama delivered this horrible news and I asked her why she remains so committed to ruining my life.

“Go and look at the balcony. There is a staircase connecting our room to Uliya’s below. It is despicable. Prisoner-like treatment handed to her own son—”

I stop rubbing my forehead when I realise Cecil has simply flown out. I was not finished speaking.

I am about to call after him when he flies back in, cawing with visible excitement.

“What are you so happy about?” I ask, irritated. Did he hear a single word I said?

“Such proximity to Yer. If she ever needs me I can reach her within seconds. This is the best day of my life.” He literally wraps his wings around himself, savouring the thought.

“Are you out of your mind? I was telling you how agonising this is for me and you are celebrating my misery. What grave crime must I have committed in a past life to be given such a shameless, self-serving raven as my companion?”

“Must I indulge your cynicism at all times? I have a life separate from yours.” He dismisses me by turning his head away in that infuriating manner he has perfected, knowing full well it gets under my skin.

“What life? You are a bird sworn to look after me.” I half-shout and seriously consider throwing the crystal figurine from the coffee table at him, when there is a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I ask, composing myself.

“Luminara.”

Of course. I had sent for her earlier and then forgotten entirely. I get up, put my shoes back on, and open the door.

“Thank Demiurge for sending you, Lume, I—” The words dry up in my mouth. I take in her whole appearance. She has always been beautiful but now her face has matured so much in the past three years. She looks absolutely devastating. When did her raven hair grow long enough to reach below her waist? Her light brown, silver-rimmed eyes catch the lamplight as she looks up at me. Her skin has caught up with her name, illuminated as though the moon painted her face with its own light. It takes genuine effort to look up.

“Yes, Zir, I have fuller breasts now, can you stop staring?” She leans in and says it with narrowed eyes and I immediately step back, gesturing her inside.

I scoff and close the door behind us.

“I was simply taking notice of my friend’s matured face. Leave it to you to make me sound like a pervert instead of saying hello after three whole years.”

She laughs in that easy, loud, unhurried way of hers and settles into the spot I had just vacated. Comforting to know my friend has not entirely changed.

“It is so easy to ruffle your feathers, godling. You should work on that,” she says casually, drawing her legs together at the sofa’s edge.

I notice only now how stunning her long-sleeved mauve gown is, in its simplicity. A black opal necklace and matching earrings.

“Cecil does not like that phrase so please use it more often,” I say, settling at the opposite end.

She glances around. “I would oblige, your highness, but he does not appear to be here.”

“He is just there on the mantel—” I look over my shoulder to point him out but of course Cecil has gone.

“Never mind, leave him. He is currently honouring his freedom and individuality.”

She leans back, confusion on her face. “Assigned companions have that?”

I nod with feeling. “Everyone but me lately, Lume. You would not believe what new torture my mother has subjected me to.”

She clicks her tongue. “Well, knowing the queen, it has to be something interesting.”

~ Uliya ~

After meeting our parents I came straight to my bedchamber, not even bothering to look at the beautiful high teak shelves stacked on all three walls with my books in the antechamber. I just had Yer pull my back zipper down with her beak and collapsed onto the bed.

“I just want to rest and skip dinner entirely. Does that make me a bad daughter?” I say, face half buried in the pillow.

“No, it makes you a reasonable person. You have been up and about since morning, Ul. Rest a little before we leave.” Yer says from the desk in the corner where she has settled herself.

I rest my eyes for a few minutes before there is a knock at the door.

“Hello, may I ask who this is?” Yer calls out politely. I wish I had her patience.

“Kushiana. I am coming in.”

I hear her approaching footsteps and look over my shoulder.

She is already dressed. Her dark brown medium length hair has been styled into a thick braid with dandelions lined through the plaits. She has adorned a sleeveless black shimmery gown with a sweetheart neckline resting just below her long collarbone, a double layered georgette skirt falling beneath it. Her eyes are lined with kohl, accentuating her pretty green almond shaped eyes. No jewellery except the magnificent blue sapphire ring she often wears. My sister is so unbothered about her clothes yet always stands out.

I turn over and gasp. “You are drenched in beauty from top to bottom. How will the bachelors at our table eat without choking?”

She sidelines the compliment with a slight wave of her hand. Right — on top of everything else, she is also incredibly modest.

She comes and sits beside me at the edge of the bed. “I came to see if you needed anything. Did the maids bring your dress?”

“Not yet. The new seamstress cast a single look at me from the far end of the lobby and disappeared, leaving Yer with a message that she needs to fix my corset.”

Kushiana caresses the top of my head, smiling. “Well that is a good thing. You are going to fill in better now.”

I cringe. “Was it that obvious?”

She nods. “I wanted to say something that day but I lost my temper and left before I could. I am sorry about the outburst. You did not deserve it. Zir perhaps deserved a little of it. He is an unyielding prick.”

I laugh. “Yes he is. And it is fine, we have forgotten about it.”

She starts to say something and stops. I take her hands in mine.

“Whatever you choose, we support you. Do not worry about anything. We will be here now.”

“I will not worry, if you two promise not to get in my way,” she says flatly.

I pout. “I cannot promise that. Do not be an unreasonable elder sister.”

She smiles and pinches the tip of my nose. “Then neither can I. Let us talk about something else, Ul.”

“Alright. Are you still training with Hinjk?”

She nods and leans back on her elbows. “Yes, we trained on the enormous staircase in the Citadel today. Completely destroyed my calves.”

“Sounds horrendous. I ask because now that I am back I need to start training again as well. I find him slightly intimidating so I am trying to figure out who to approach.”

Also because I remain wary of everyone in the palace after the Apateus incident. I say nothing of this since Kushiana does not know either.

She looks up in thought. “It cannot be me, I am always occupied with training or some royal duty. We could ask one of the guards, but I do not think they could help beyond physical training — your thralling power is a little complex for anyone outside the family to understand. Actually, why not go to Luminara? Who better?”

Luminara had trained alongside Kushiana under Hinjk until two years ago, after which she began self-training to focus more on her magic and herb alchemy. And I have always trusted her completely, which makes the idea of training together feel easy rather than daunting.

I squeal. “Of course, why did I not think of her? She is perfect and she would never say no!” I pull Kushiana into a hug. “Thank you, I love you.”

She pats my back like I am a lost dog who has wandered in from the rain, forcing a “love you too” out in her crispest voice. Both my siblings are completely incapable of receiving affection for some reason. Arguments they cherish. Absolute idiots.

                                                      ~ Kushiana ~

For dinner we all gathered in the dining hall of the western wing, built entirely of rose quartz, its walls catching the warmth of the candlelight and throwing it back in soft blush tones. A large chandelier of white crystals resembling lilies hangs high above the table, casting everything below in a pale silver glow.

It was initially my suggestion that we keep it a private family dinner, but our parents decided a small feast was more fitting. The council members, Master Hinjk and Royal Commander Ilias had all expressed their wish to be part of the celebration and raise a glass to Zir and Uliya’s return after so long. I understood the reasoning, even if I would have preferred otherwise.

In truth I am not entirely opposed to the company. A fuller table gives Zir fewer opportunities to say something provoking and cause a scene. Here he is required to be on his best behaviour, and Luminara sitting to his right has his attention well occupied regardless. She is visibly happy to have her closest friend back after three years. He is happier than I have seen him in a long time, which is unsurprising given she is the only true friend he has here, courtesy of his reclusive nature.

Father sits at the head of the long rectangular table. Mother has chosen the seat to his left this evening rather than her usual place at the foot. I am seated beside her, with Uliya to my right. Zir sits to Uliya’s right and Luminara to his. Across from Uliya and me sit Hinjk and Ilias, and beyond them the High Councillor, with the remaining six noble house and council members spread across both sides of the table to the foot.

Our companions have chosen to remain in our private chambers as they do for most meals, to keep our thoughts from drifting back to work and correspondence so we can eat in peace. They tend to use these breaks to convene amongst themselves.

For a moment I let the warmth of the conversation wash over me, watching everyone at the table. The meal begins with a toast from Father. “Here is to my beloved wains returning home. I pray to Demiurge that we share many more dinners like this one. To Zir and Uliya.”

I notice both my siblings are genuinely glad to be back. Uliya grabs my idle hand in hers with barely contained excitement, and Zir offers me a small smile that reaches his eyes as we raise our glasses.

I am glad to have them here too. But the fear of the hex still looms. I hope I do not carry it toward them. They are mine to protect. I cannot remember a time when they were not.

“Kush, want to split a wishbone?” Uliya beams at me, lifting it from her plate. The turkey was delectable this evening.

“Sure.” We both pull and she ends up with the larger half.

She shrieks with delight, completely unaware that my wish was for all of hers to come true.

I simply smile.