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The Spirit of the Realm

Page 29

by Rachel L Brown


  The crowd took a few steps back and Svendir walked into the space they had created. His robe was a deep purple, and the scroll-like runes on the hemline shone like little stars.

  “I would like to say a few words before we begin,” Emira said to the High Vestral who was now standing next to her.

  “You shall, after the ceremony,” the High Vestral said.

  Emira opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late. Svendir had already begun his prayer. One by one, all twelve Vestrals gave a prayer to their Gods for Emira’s reign and to answer any requests she had made of them. By the time they were done, Emira’s arm ached, she had to use her trident to keep from slipping off the stone.

  Once the Vestrals had finished, Emira tried to speak up, but the High Vestral quickly called for the next phase of the ceremony to begin. The crowd parted again and three Vestrals in plain silver cloaks marched up to the Coronation stone. One of the Vestrals carried a banner that had the rune for the Spirit of the Realm on it, and the second carried a small box containing a golden ring. They slipped the ring onto her finger; tiny griffins had been carved into the gold and inlaid with rubies.

  The final Vestral held a crown made of many gold and silver arches that twisted into small flowers at the top. In the center of each flower was a blue gemstone with swirls of silver on the inside. When she looked closer, the swirling mist formed itself into the image of a griffin.

  The hum of magic filled the air and the High Vestral exchanged the orb she was holding for the crown. The nobles in front of Emira kneeled while the High Vestral held the crown high over her head.

  “The Spirit of the Realm has looked far and wide across the land, searching for the one who would bring Sodervia into an era of prosperity! Searching for one who would take heed to the Spirit’s advice at all times and ensure our lands do not end up in flames!” the High Vestral shouted, her voice carrying to the valley below. She paused and let the commoners cheer for a moment before she continued. “Does anyone have any objections to the Spirit’s Chosen?”

  Emira opened her mouth to speak, but Prince Felix gave her a slight shake of his head as the crowd of nobles remained silent.

  “I present unto you, Queen Emira, your true anointed Queen! Come forth Lords of Sodervia and swear your oaths!” the High Vestral shouted. Heat radiated from Emira’s chest. The protection magic in her rune flared. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the High Vestral’s mouth downturn ever so slightly.

  The nobles lined up to swear their oaths, a tradition that stretched back to the formation of the kingdom and was supposed to ensure no noble revolted against the Crown. Emira readjusted her grip on the trident; her hand was glistening with sweat and her legs trembled.

  “Careful, Majesty, you don’t want to embarrass yourself,” the High Vestral sneered. She leaned close before reeling back when Vaste nearly poked out her eye.

  Emira shot her a glare while she patted Vaste’s head, watching a nobleman in a bright green tunic step forward. As he knelt, his long beard brushed the stone ground underneath him. The Vestrals with their divine runes moved behind Emira, and the High Vestral nodded at Svendir, who was holding an ornate scroll.

  “Do you, Lord Lighthelm, swear to defend and uphold the integrity of the Crown?” Svendir asked the nobleman.

  “I do.”

  “Should the Crown call for your aid, do you swear to answer it? Even if it means your life may be forfeit?”

  “I do.”

  With that Svendir bade him to rise and Emira held out her hand with the ring on it. Lord Lighthelm grabbed her hand and lightly kissed the ring. Then he moved to the side and knelt in front of the High Vestral.

  “Do you swear to uphold the rulings of the Spirit?” the High Vestral asked.

  “I do,” Lord Lighthelm said, and he began to rise, but the High Vestral held up a hand.

  “Do you swear to come to the aid of the Spirit of the Realm should the need arise?” the High Vestral asked and Emira’s eyes widened with shock. She glanced over at Lady Ethelbright, who was being held back by her husband. She tried to see Prince Felix’s reaction, but he was too far back in the line. Only one vow was supposed to be made to the Spirit.

  Emira could not say a word until the process of oaths was complete. If she did, the Gods could see it as an insult and turn her body to ashes.

  “Lord Lighthelm?” The High Vestral asked, her voice had a tinge of annoyance to it. The nobleman glanced at Emira with a bit of confusion on his face before he looked back at the High Vestral.

  “I... do,” he said and then quickly rejoined his family.

  Emira had to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to keep from shouting. The High Vestral dared to change nearly five hundred years of history, and no one seemed outraged enough to stop it. Did she already know what Emira was planning? Emira felt for the pocket that held the rune of madness in her skirt. Had she been a fool to bring it with her?

  Vaste nuzzled the side of her head and another nobleman made his way forward to recite his vows. Once again, the High Vestral demanded he take the second oath. As the oaths continued, Emira felt her resolve weaken. She looked over at her parents, who were still beaming with pride. Would the High Vestral target them as well? Now that she had the oaths from the nobles, the likelihood of the High Vestral going down without a fight was slim.

  The sun had dipped behind the mountain, the long line of nobles got shorter and shorter until Prince Felix remained. Svendir put away the scroll he was reading from and pulled out a different one. He motioned for Prince Felix to step forward. He held up the scroll for everyone to see. Emira saw dozens of bloody handprints on it.

  As Prince Felix knelt, she noticed he had a black gauntlet on one arm. She frowned and sorted through her memories of all the Coronation traditions Lady Ethelbright had drilled into her, but she remembered nothing about gauntlets.

  “Lords and Ladies! Since Prince Felix is the sole surviving heir of our departed King, he must submit a blood oath and swear that he nor any of his descendants will never rise against the Crown!” Svendir shouted. A Vestral handed Prince Felix an ornate dagger. The Prince didn’t even flinch when he cut into his palm and smeared the blood onto his hand before he pressed it onto the paper.

  “I, Prince Felix, son of King Stefan and Queen Isobel, do solemnly swear upon my life and the lives of my descendants to raise no army against the Crown,” Prince Felix said with a solemn expression.

  “Do you also swear to come to the aid of the Crown in times of distress?” Svendir asked.

  “I swear to come to aid of the Crown in times of distress,” Felix echoed.

  For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Emira raised her hand and Prince Felix kissed the ring on her finger. When he looked up at her, he gave her a wink and a slight squeeze of her hand before he turned to the High Vestral.

  “Do you, Prince Felix...”

  Emira tuned out the High Vestral’s words and looked down at her feet, gathering her resolve for the speech she would give. When she lifted her head to look at the crowd, the sound of metal slamming into stone filled the air. Emira turned to see Felix had thrown his gauntlet at the High Vestral’s feet. His eyes were burning with rage as he glared at the High Vestral.

  Emira’s body went numb while she watched him. Why was he doing this?

  “I call upon the Gods to witness this day an oath to the people!” Felix yelled, turning to face the crowd of shocked nobles. “My fellow Sodervians, this woman and her Spirit have committed grave crimes against the realm!”

  The High Vestral shook with anger, but her mouth remained clamped shut, Felix had not finished his oath. She gave a signal to a guard standing nearby and he disappeared into the crowd.

  The Dowager Queen was staring at her son with pure shock. Her face was a mixture of white and green. A War Vestral in a blood-red cloak moved next to her and whispered something in her ear; the Dowager Queen wept. The surrounding crowd didn’t notice, they all watched Prince Felix back towar
ds the edge of the outcropping. A glint of metal caught Emira’s eye, guards were pushing their way through the crowd.

  “A madman who dares call himself the God of Justice has taken over the town of Oddlehill, and yet the High Vestral and the Spirit of the Realm do nothing to stop them!” Felix shouted; the crowd of nobles quieted a bit. He tugged a folded-up piece of paper out of a pouch and held it up, “While my father descended into madness, they stood by and offered no help! They have blocked the Queen at nearly every turn and have tried to turn her into their puppet! They have turned their backs on the reason the Gods gave us the Spirit in the first place!”

  Realization hit Emira like a gust of wind: Prince Felix was trying to draw the ire of the High Vestral away from her. If the Spirit of the Realm was too busy trying to take out Prince Felix and keep the Western Marshes at bay, then it might give Emira a chance to figure out how to get the Gods to remove it from their kingdom entirely.

  It wasn’t the most foolproof of plans, but there was no way she could stop him now.

  Gods above, please don’t let him die because of me.

  “Blasphemy!” the High Vestral screamed, the runes of the Gods around her flared with magic at her words. She clenched her fists at her sides.

  “No madam, you are the one who has committed blasphemy!” Prince Felix said. The guards broke through the crowd. The High Vestral gestured wildly at him, the guards marched towards him with their pikes ready to strike.

  Prince Felix glanced behind him when his foot slipped over the edge of the outcropping. “I swear unto you I will bring back justice to this kingdom!”

  With that, he saluted Emira and jumped.

  “Felix!” the Dowager Queen lunged forward. The War Vestral grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away from the crowd as it erupted in chaos.

  Vaste suddenly flew down from her shoulder and burrowed himself under her skirts. Emira felt the wind picked up and she heard the scream of a griffin. A shadow passed over her when the griffin swooped down from the clouds and past the outcropping. The wind from its wings knocked her off the stone chair; her parents rushed over to help her stand, but they were stopped by the guards.

  She heard the griffin cry out again, and she turned to see Prince Felix fly past on its back. He swooped down to the crowd of commoners and they roared with delight. None of them had heard Prince Felix’s speech, and they likely thought this was part of the ceremony. A second griffin flew past them, this one was riderless. It let out a shriek as it followed Prince Felix’s griffin.

  “The bastard took my griffin!” she heard a noblewoman shout, “Your Majesty do something!”

  Emira ignored her and turned her attention to the High Vestral.

  Thick magic hung around the High Vestral, while a fire rune danced around her. Svendir hurried over to her side.

  “Holy One, if you fire at him now, you will cause the deaths of hundreds below!”

  The High Vestral glared at him, but the magic in the fire rune died out while it floated onto her hand.

  “Did you know about this?” she asked when she turned her angry gaze on Emira.

  “I did not, if I was going to do something. I would have done it at the beginning of the ceremony.”

  The High Vestral glared at her for a heartbeat and then gathered her cloak calling for her horse. Guards surrounded the Dowager Queen while the War Vestral beside her argued with them.

  “The Dowager Queen is under arrest. Until it can be ascertained if she was a part of her son’s scheme or not,” the High Vestral shouted and mounted her horse.

  “Why are you doing this?” Emira asked.

  “Her son just committed high treason against the Spirit of the Realm, I need to make sure she is not complicit. Give your speech to the commoners, I don’t want them to think anything is amiss.”

  “I-”

  “Your Majesty, the people must be assured. Unless you want them to attack?” the High Vestral leaned forward, her voice low and magic crackled in the air.

  “No, of course not,” she said. Shoving down the part of her that wanted to do nothing more than throw the High Vestral off the cliff. Prince Felix’s sacrifice would be worth nothing if she did that. She would have to wait and figure out a different way to defeat her.

  “Is there anything else?”

  Emira looked at the Dowager Queen to see if she wanted her to argue on her behalf, but she glowered at Emira with the fire of a thousand suns.

  “This is all your fault!” she screamed while a guardsman dragged her away. The War Vestral ran after them shouting things Emira couldn’t quite hear.

  “She will not be harmed if she is found to be innocent,” the High Vestral said and dug her heels into the sides of her horse.

  “Are you still going to give your speech Your Majesty?” Svendir asked once the High Vestral was out of sight.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea? Considering what happened...”

  “Your Majesty, your words are important. Do not let them be silenced.”

  The crown on Emira’s head began to feel heavier. She gripped her trident and turned to look at the valley. Felix’s griffin had become a speck in the sky. The people below didn’t seem to notice, they cheered when Emira raised her trident. A Vestral ran over with a rune to amplify her voice.

  “Good people! I promise to work to bring our great kingdom into a new age! We must first conquer the threat of the Western Marshes, but I swear to you I will do everything in my power to end the war with as little bloodshed as possible!”

  The crowd roared at her words and began to chant.

  “Long live the Queen!”

  Emira was glad they couldn’t see her face. There was no way she would be able to hide the fear in it. Prince Felix’s actions had set her fate into stone.

  She rested a hand over the protection rune, the magic within beat in time with her heart and sent a wave of strength through her. No, she would not continue to be ruled by fear and let the High Vestral play her like a puppet.

  “Gods and Goddesses, hear my vow,” she whispered and the divine runes around her flared to life. “I swear, I will free Sodervia from the clutches of those who wish it harm. I will not rest until every speck of darkness has been cleansed from the land. No matter the cost.”

  No matter the cost. Was she truly prepared to give everything for the kingdom? She watched the crowds below her, shouting and cheering her on. She glanced back at her parents, who were watching the crowds with pure awe.

  Yes, she would do whatever was needed to free the kingdom and her family from the Spirit of the Realm and the High Vestral.

  Even if it meant losing her mind.

  Glossary

  ATTUNEMENT:

  The process of binding a soul to a God or Goddess.

  Common magic:

  Magic imbued into the mortal realm and not as powerful as divine magic. Also known as natural magic.

  Combination rune:

  A rune with two or more words.

  Divine magic:

  Magic granted by the Gods, only a fully attuned Vestral or an unrefined can use it. Most powerful form of magic.

  Divine rune:

  The symbol of the God or Goddess who uses it.

  Famine-struck:

  People who have lost their livelihood to the famine and wander the kingdom.

  High Vestral:

  A person who is attuned to the Spirit of the Realm and oversees all Vestrals in their kingdom.

  Initiate:

  A Vestral who has not completed training.

  Lesser Vestral:

  A Vestral who serves under the High Vestral or another more experienced Vestral.

  Rite:

  Magical processes that use a combination of glyphs, incantations, potions and runes.

  Rune:

  Used for writing or rune stones.

  The Spirit of the Realm:

  Spirits who help rule their kingdoms.

  Unrefined:

  A divine magic user wh
o has a natural affinity to a God or Goddess.

  Vestral:

  An individual who has undergone and survived the attunement process.

  Pronunciation Guide

  BERSERKER: Ber-ser-keer

  Emira: Em-ear-a

  Sade: Sah-day

  Vaste: Vast

  Sindre: Sin-drah

  Svendir: Sven-deer

  Acknowledgments

  I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE a huge thank you to my wonderful family and friends for cheering me on during this process. I couldn’t have done it without you! I would like to give an extra thank you to my poor parents who had to listen to me ramble on about griffins for months! I owe you both a trip to Europe.

  I couldn’t have done it without my amazing editors. Writing a book is a team effort and I’m proud to say, I have an amazing one.

  About the Author

  Rachel L. Brown has been reading fantasy for as long as she can remember. As a small girl, she promised herself she’d write her own fantasy novel and after spending ten years exhaustively world building for her first novel, she’s finally kept that promise to her younger self.

  Rachel lives outside of Austin, Texas with her two cats and a dog. She plans to continue writing until her stories are told. Her goal is to become a full-time writer and to keep her readers happy with books they love.

  Read more at Rachel L Brown’s site.

 

 

 


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