The Crowned Captive

The library was thankfully quiet as they walked in, and Rowan dismissed the troop of guards as they entered the doors. Morana looked around at the books once again, awestruck by the sheer number of volumes on the shelves. She could sit down and read for days. She could get lost in entire other worlds apart from her own.

“You seem impressed,” Rowan said as he led her past the shelves and tables, deeper into the library this time.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s like every book ever written is in here,” Morana breathed, looking up at the ants of men that worked above her on the balconies.

“Not everyone, but a lot. The royal family used to pride itself on knowledge.”

“What do they pride themselves on now?”

“There are only three living members left, and two of them pride themselves in power.”

“Who lives apart from the king?”

“Wait for our lessons, Morana, and I will tell you everything you need to know in due time.”

“You know, you still haven’t told me why I, a worthless little prisoner, am getting lessons? Nor what the whole family of the dragon and the phoenix thing meant.”

“All will be revealed in time.”

“That is a cop-out answer and you know it.”

“That is all you are getting just yet.”

Morana frowned as she and Rowan finally reached the back of the library, and he led her down a set of stairs.

The room below was pitch dark as they entered, but with a twist of Rowan’s hand, the candles along the walls burst to life, illuminating detailed carvings. He smirked at Morana as her jaw dropped. Each wall was peppered with murals of women draped in mist, hooded men without faces, men with antlers and deer with razor-sharp teeth, moths and crows and cats. A story spun between them, she was sure, but it was one she didn’t know. She looked to Rowan then, who merely smiled back at her.

“This room was carved by scholars before the castle itself was built upon it, when this was a temple within the wilds. Along with some other labyrinths, the space was dedicated to the Gods. All of them,” Rowan explained, walking over to the table in the centre of the room. He took a seat at one end and pulled something out from underneath it.

“Are they the same gods that humans worship?” Morana queried. She reached out to touch the wall, pulling back suddenly as energy passed across her fingertips.

“Yes, but we knew them first, and more intimately. Did something just happen?”

“I could feel the energy of the wall, same as in the forest,” Morana replied sheepishly. Rowan stalked over and placed his hand against the wall, brow furrowing. He took a deep breath, seeming to focus, but sighed and walked away when nothing happened.

“Does this happen to you often?”

“It hasn’t happened since you kidnapped me, and not before that I can remember.”

“I will look into it. But for now, our lesson. How much do you know?”

“Little. The Gods never did anything for me, so why should I try and know them?” Rowan frowned at that, deeply, and Morana had to look away under the weight of his disappointment.

“You will learn today, and will learn to forget such disrespect. The Gods walk amongst mortals at times, and if you don’t know whom you are meeting, you will end up dead. Their morals are not the same as ours, and the only one who will care about your end is the AllMother.”

Rowan launched into an explanation then, naming each of the Six Gods: Valylianna, the Allmother; Madog, Fate Incarnate; Kavi, The Huntress and The Warrior; Karnak, The Wild One; Gwendolynn, The Sorceress; and finally, Acheros, Death Incarnate. At the words of the last, Morana felt a chill run up her spine.

He told the story of the creation of the fae.

“In the beginning, there was a seed which slipped through the cracks of the realm and came to rest in the darkness which was ours. Despite all chances, with no soil nor light nor warmth, this seed grew and came to birth Valylianna. A flower so beautiful, she awoke the darkness around her. And as she grew, the darkness around her stirred, and Acheros materialised to watch her beauty. Initially, the two were friends, and then became lovers, seeing each other as beautiful despite their differences. Acheros worshipped Valylianna for her creations, awed by the power the deity held. Valylianna was awed by Acheros and his powers to manipulate the shadow, to bring all dangers to such a finite end. She made monsters and beauties of every sort to amuse Acheros, all that filled the darkness that was the void. But soon, the number grew too great. Acheros tried to warn his love that she was pushing the balance, tipping it, but she didn’t listen. As she created more, the darkness ripped open.

“The creatures that came through the tear were unlike anything either had ever seen, what we now know as daemons. They were creatures from other realms that left nothing but destruction in their wake. The monstrosities broke everything they touched, every one of Valylianna’s creations. Their blood soaked the darkness, and Valylianna cried. Unable to feel his lover’s despair any longer, Acheros let loose the darkness in his soul and killed every creature within their realm except for his lover. The monsters fell and turned to dust which mixed with the blood of Valylianna’s children, creating the earth on which we stand. The spirits of those who fell, with nowhere to go, mixed and culminated. From the monsters and the creatures, Karnak was born.

“Valylianna’s rage was incomprehensible when the despair lifted, and from the blood of her children and her tears, she created her most beautiful child yet, the protector of the realm. Kavi was born then, a sword in hand as soon as she formed.

“To ease Valylianna’s rage, Acheros carved a realm from the tear in the darkness, which only he could control. This realm was the afterlife, where all of Valylianna’s creatures could go if they perished. But Valylianna was still furious with her lover and wanted none of her creatures to pass on. When she created once more, the creature came out wrong, a product of her self-doubt and guilt. From the second it was born, it was dead. She turned to Acheros then, blamed him, hurled every harm and insult she could at him. So he allowed the souls of her creations a choice, to go to a peaceful afterlife where they could rest until their soul was called on once more, or to stay within the realm, to wander without peace forever. The single soul left chose to stay, and so Gwendolyn the Sorceress was born.

“Sensing the upset in the cosmos, the last of the Gods came through. Madog was unlike the others, yet something more. He walked between the realms, between the paper-thin sheet that separated us from the daemons. With him, he brought light to the darkness and time. It was his voice that finally spoke reason to Valylianna, gave her sense in her despair. Acheros thanked him, pleading with him to stay. So the pantheon was complete.

“Her heart now healed, Valylianna set to work to make her best creation yet. Taking inspiration from those around her, she made a creature that was as beautiful as her huntress, with the powers of her sorceress, and the heart of the Wild One. She offered Fate the chance to command their lives, and weave their tales into beautiful stories. And finally, to death, she gave the gift of keeping her creations once they had lived, and returning them to the world when he saw fit.

“After the elves were made, Valylianna made many other Fae, each with long lifespans. Then she made the beasts for them to feast upon, and gave their care over the Karnak. Karnak took those beasts and changed many into beasts as vicious as those he was born from. Those Acheros cursed with a mortal life to limit their destruction.

And then, Karnak stole one of Valylianna’s prized. Kavi stood in to protect them, but Madog stopped her. And so humans were made, twisted beasts from Fae bloodlines with twisted hearts. They were an abomination, monsters, but with no option to rid the world of them, Kavi withdrew her protection. The creatures lashed out against the gods then, hating the shorter lifespans Acheros cursed them with, using their magic to harm where they could, so Gwendolynn withdrew her magic. They even turned on Karnak, hating him for creating them and then letting the Gods forsake them. So Karnak created creatures to hunt them, and cursed them to loneliness.”

Rowan was silent for a long moment as he watched Morana process his words. She stared at the murals around them, her mind alight with thought as she pieced together the story. The characterisation of Fae versus humans interested her most, after growing up being told that it was the Fae that were monsters, but she knew how not to tackle that. Her eyes flicked between each mural for a long time, before she finally nodded.

“Are there temples to worship the gods at?”

The question must have stunned Rowan, as he simply sat and stared at her for a long time, his eyes alight in the flames of the candles.

“Of course, there are temples, Morana. In every major city, there is a temple to each god. Many smaller cities, towns and villages have murals or mixed temples. We are tied closely to the Gods with our magic, so we would never forsake our worship. Most of us have small altars in our homes to worship at each night, even.”

“I wish to visit Acheros.” She wished to explain no more, tears threatening her. She prayed the god would listen to her petitions.

“I will ask the King, you have my word. At the current time, I doubt he will allow it, but I will ask regardless.”

Morana nodded then, turning away to study the murals once more. She could see which Acheros was clearly, despite his form never being pointed out to her. He was a timeless man, not looking old nor young, and worshipped his love in every frame he was depicted in. She had never imagined Death as such a loving God, not when he had taken so much from her already.

“Is it okay to continue with the lesson, Morana?” Rowan asked after a time, seeming genuinely sympathetic.

“May I ask one more question?”

“Of course, Morana?”

“Who is the stronger, you or Cordan?”

Rowan laughed in response to the question, and Morana glared at the arrogant elf. She already knew his answer from his response and doubted its truth.

“I am the stronger, of course. Older, quicker, smarter. I hold much love for Cordan, but of course, I am superior in every way.”

“Are you planning on joining us at training this afternoon?”

“Why do you ask, Morana? Do you wish to see my prowess? There are easier ways to show you,” the arrogant prick teased, and Morana had to reign in her anger.

“I only wish to see your ass handed to you, Rowan,” she replied, her voice sweet as honey but her grin wicked.

Rowan laughed again, and she merely smirked at him, hoping her words would be correct.