Raike POV

When the challenge was finished, the High Priestess, several Senior Priestesses, and a few witnesses would step out upon the palace’s balcony, high above the city streets. They would then announce to the gathered crowd, and all of Gresha, the results of the duel. The victor would be escorted out onto the balcony and presented, so Gresha’s citizens could adore their victorious king.

Everyone knew that, once news of the challenge got out, it would take a long time for the challenge to be completed and the declaration to be made. Even so, crowds gathered beneath the balcony and waited for an announcement for hours and hours anyways. Once the people showed up, food stalls would begin appearing, taking advantage of the people left waiting and stuck here for Crown-knows-how-long to ply their wares, and tempt the hungry stomachs.

Mother and I were one of the first to arrive, even before the announcement of the challenge had spread to much of the city. Father and Perene would be joining us later, while an aunt would watch over the house and the youngest children throughout the night. For now, however, Ma and I brought lanterns and snacks and picked out a good place to sit and wait the hot night away.

When I explained to my parents what Elian had decided, and where they had gone, it had went differently from how I had expected. I did expect Dad to start trying to go after Elian and stop them, but I did not expect Ma to talk him down. She always had been kind of lenient with me and my siblings, though. The morning we waited for the decree to be made, I finally resolved to ask her why.

“What do you think will happen if Ellie wins?” Had I been younger, I might have asked if we’d get to live in the palace with its brightly painted walls and doors. But a question like that seemed unimportant now, when the possibility seemed so real, yet so uncertain. Knowing how little of the full situation I really knew, I got the impression that I was on the edge of something greater than myself. I was only standing on the shore, watching the fin of a distant sea beast breach the waters, but still ignorant about the whole shape of the beast. Asking if I could live in the palace just seemed shallow, when it felt like there was so much I was missing. When it still felt at times like my sibling was a stranger.

“Elian won’t,” Mother said.

I looked at her, eyes wide at how bluntly she stated it. “But...they’d be heartbroken if they didn’t.”

Mother sighed. “...They will, yes,” she said. “But it’s not a contest of who has more to lose. It’s a contest of who the goddess believes would make a better leader. Ellie...your sibling is an adult, and I intend to treat him as an adult. But they still have some growing to do.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Raikki, what would you say all the great heroes of old have in common?” Mother asked. I scratched my cheek in thought, furrowing my brow in deep thought.

“They’re brave, and powerful, and shaped how the world works,” I finally settled on. “Everyone remembers them for the incredible things they accomplished.”

Mother chuckled a little. “You’re not wrong. But that’s not what I meant.” She sighed, and gazed towards the empty balcony. Beneath the balcony was a massive mural: Crown Naruune, in the form of a deerlike giant, plants and lichen and fungus growing from her body. Rows of humans and animals alike knelt down before her in worship, standing before their homes. “Have I ever told you, Raike, that I nearly didn’t marry your father?

My expression fell. “Ma…” What did this have to do with anything? But it was too late, Ma was already gazing off into the distance as she rambled.

“Your father I grew up as neighbors, you know. He was always so thoughtful, and observant, and worked twice as hard as all the other neighbor boys,” she sighed. “I was quite the looker back then, you know. He wasn’t the only boy after my heart—I also caught the eye of a Meridean merchant.”

“Maaaaa,” I groaned.

“He offered to take me far away from Gresha! To sail the seas with me, seeking out every treasure in every corner of the earth!” she said, then sighed, smiling wistfully. “But my parents threatened to disown me if I ran away with him. In the end, I knew they were right. It’s as they say, if you don’t love your family, who will love you? Blood is as stolid as stone. Reliable. Dependable. If I left, who would take care of them? So I stayed in Gresha, and had a wonderful life with your father.”

“Then what happened to the merchant?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Ma admitted with a shrug. “When I made my decision to stay in Gresha, he vowed to keep visiting me and bringing me gifts, even if I never left with him. Claimed that a treasure like me was too precious to lose, even if he could only admire me from afar. But one day...he stopped returning. Perhaps he grew bored of me because he couldn’t have me. Perhaps he found another ‘treasure’. I suppose in the end he didn’t love me as much. I was willing to sacrifice my dreams for your father, but he couldn’t sacrifice his dreams for me.”

“Er...interesting,” I said.

“Elian decided that he did not wish to bear and raise children. That was something I could accept; there were other ways for him to support his siblings and show his love for Gresha. But the child never learned duty. Perhaps he loves Gresha, somewhere deep in his heart. But love alone is not enough for the Crown, else we would all be kings and queens. She requires wisdom, responsibility, courage and wit. Elian is a good child. A kind child. But if kindness isn’t tempered by these things, it becomes softness.” Mother let out a huff, tilting her head back towards the cloud-streaked sky. “Perhaps in a few years, that child could have won the challenge. Or perhaps this loss is what they require to learn it. Had they made the right friends, settled down with a good Greshan girl, they could have become the most talented and beloved soldier in the army. I swear, that child…” She reached over then, and mussed the hair on my head. “But I know you don’t need this lecture, Raike, your wayward sibling does. Little Raikki, you’re so responsible now, I’m proud. How are those neighbor boys doing? Have your eye on any of them? Perhaps the redhead?”

I absentmindedly nodded at Mother’s fussings, even as my thoughts wandered away. What Ma had told me was almost the opposite of what Nania had been saying. She had talked about how responsibility had kept Ellie away from us, even if he cared for us. Not for the first time, I wondered just what Ellie always did in the Deep Woods. Was it really just goofing off with their friends, as Ma seemed to think? Or were they really doing something important? Ma should know Ellie better, being their Mother…

But to be honest, Ellie had never been a conventional Greshan. How well did Mother really know them?

“It seems like a mean thing to do, Ma. Letting Ellie try and challenge to become King, knowing they don’t have a chance,” I said.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Raikki,” said Mother. “It will break their heart. But sooner or later, life must break all our hearts, or we’ll be too fragile to live. It broke my heart, too, when I realized my merchant had lied. But I found a life moving on. I led a good life with your father, and perhaps I wondered what could have been, had I risked it all and run away, but I know now that this, what I built, is better.”

But what was important to Elian, I wondered. The Goddess Naruune loved stories. Perhaps, the story of an outcast soldier risking it all to save their friends could move her to tears…?

As the suns rose and the morning wore on, more people began to gather beneath the balcony, and we ate a small breakfast feast of spiced flatbreads. Father arrived, with my other siblings, and the people in the crowd around us began to find their own ways of passing the time, through friendly or not-so-friendly debate. As defensive of our family members as we were, oftentimes my younger siblings would butt into these debates uninvited, attracting some attention. I made no attempt to join in, though. My mind was stuck on what would happen next.

If Ellie became king, if Ellie was forced to take responsibility for all of Gresha...as much as I didn’t like to imagine Ellie sad, it was almost impossible to imagine them on the throne.

If Ellie failed...then all of this would end. The thunder will have finally rolled, and the storm would quietly depart. Things wouldn’t go back to normal, Ellie would be different afterwards, having failed completely for the first time I knew. But eventually things would settle, and life would continue, as Ma had said. They would have to find a new normal, or get left behind. I looked at Ma and Dad, waiting grave-faced and patient together, Ma’s larger hand loosely clasped over Dad’s. Something peaceful. Something quiet, with the rest of us. Maybe...I’d get a chance to understand my sibling a little better. To feel more like siblings.

My gaze drifted back towards the balcony. But, if Ellie won...the consequences would perhaps be even greater. Ellie would be King of all Gresha. They’d lose the ability to wander off like they always did, with all the powers and responsibilities they had now. Maybe because of that, it was hard to imagine Ellie winning. To imagine Ellie sitting on a throne all day, swaggering about the palace, and issuing commands and decrees for others to set in stone. That’s not where my sibling belonged, they belonged in the streets and the fields, going where they pleased and insisting on dirtying their hands at every opportunity.

…Neither of these choices. Both of these choices my mother provided, I couldn’t see Elian being happy with either of them. I knew that much, and I cared enough to feel a pang. Was there another way? A third option where Elian could belong?

And then...an impact. An explosion. A living wave of heat and pressure seemed to roll across the crowd, crushing oppressively and then evaporating. Though there was no noise, and though no buildings shook or crumbled, that was the only way I could describe it. Some civilians who hadn’t been prepared for it swayed or fell to their knees, and heard the clatter of more than one guard’s dropped weapon on the brick streets. Many head swiveled to the balcony, waiting in awful silence for an announcement, an explanation. When none came, the crowd turned back to each other, muttering in grave whispers. The atmosphere was no longer boisterous and lively, now it was grim. A miracle. An omen.

When the Head Priestess finally did emerge, the leader of the army just a pace behind her, not many noticed her at first, so enraptured were they by their discussions. She had to shout for their attention, raising her hoarse voice. Like a pack of hungry wolves, the crowd fell on her from below.

“What was that?”

“What happened?”

“Has something happened?”

“Silence!” she shouted again. Was it just the distance, or did her face look pale and sweaty? I could have been imagining it. Then, she spoke again. “The challenge has ended. A new king has been declared.”

That began its own set of muttering and speculation. Typically, there was some preamble to the announcement. A summary of the great feats of channeling that earned the victor his position, of their history leading up to this prestigious moment.

“The Crowns have made their will apparent,” the Head Priestess continued, a little bitterly. “She...heard the heartfelt wish of her favored and made her choice clear. May I present to you...King Elian of Gresha. Crown-Son.”

I didn’t have to doubt if it was my imagination or not when Ellie joined her on the balcony. They were frightened. I quickly stole glances from Mother and Father. Father looked quite concerned to see his child, while Mother kept on an impassive expression. The rest of the crowd was silent. But a cheer went up, starting from Kerri, my youngest sister.

“It’s Ellie! Mama, Ellie won! Hi Ellie!” she shrieked.

Ma and Dad did not look proud. Instead, Dad’s teeth were bared. Not in a smile, but in a terrified grimace. Prey caught in a predator’s trap. Beside him, a flash of anger and confusion crossed Ma’s face, which she quickly swallowed and stuffed under a too-stiff grin before any of my siblings could see.

Elian’s gaze then drifted down, and spotted us. Their face seemed to gain back some color, and their usual smile. Spreading out from Kerri, with some encouragement from the guards and accompanying priestesses, a cheer went up, and I added to its noise.

But the image of my sibling’s unsmiling face, the expressions I briefly saw on my parents, and the fearfulness of not knowing what would happen next, not knowing when I would see them again despite dwelling in the same City, it would haunt me for a long time.

Lordrin POV

For a long moment, it was as if they existed in a world which contained just the two of them. They gazed straight at each other, seemingly unaware of all those others in the room. Briefly I even forgot myself. That I was a flesh-and-blood existence within the room, rather than an incorporeal spectator.

Then a noise shattered the illusion.

A cry had gone up from those in the throne room watching, as though time that had once been frozen had finally begun to move again. Some of those watching gasped in horror, or in awe. A few staggered towards the doors, while others stood as frozen statues. Menone quickly bowed to the being, averting his eyes. This prompted several guards to copy his movements, falling to the ground. At the flurry of activity, the inhuman woman looked across the room, taking in what she saw with a disdainful, or perhaps bored, sneer.

“So this is your...‘contest of the Crown’s favor,’” she drawled, her gaze landing on me. I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, her gaze baking me like an ant under glass. I was now all too aware of the dreadful heat.

Forya was the first of us to speak. “Who are you? How did—what—?” she gasped out, any semblance of her usual composure totally gone now.

The inhuman woman shrugged. “The rules of your little contest say it’s a competition for the favor of a Crown, right?” she asked, with the smirk of someone who loved argument for its own sake, regardless of victory and loss. Then grinned wide, revealing all her pointed teeth, and announced, “I’m a Crown.”

“You—?” Forya’s eyes boggled. “No—you—? How—?”

“Yes. I’m obviously a human who’s very good at lying,” the woman said, pointedly folding her legs to sit cross-legged in midair. She stretched out her well-muscled armors and positioned herself as if to drape her body over some fully invisible chair, as a shimmer of unseen heat wrinkled the air around her.

She—

What?

How?

No. Maybe she was? The way her eyes emanated light, the overwhelming pressure of her aura...these were things no human could possibly replicate. Not something monsters and demons were known to possess, either. Only a being of unspeakable power could possess eyes such as those. And the way I’d failed to channel, the way she’d appeared when the challenger—Elian— attempted to channel...could this really be—? Briefly, I peeled my eyes from her, from the Crown, and looked to the challenger. The one who had apparently called this entity here.

He had gone...very pale. His eyes were as wide as little moons, staring in some mixture of shock, horror, and awe. As though he couldn’t quite believe what was happening either. All...quite appropriate reactions to a Crown’s unexpected presence… It wasn’t any sort of trick. She was not a charlatan or deceiver. At the very least, she was precisely what she claimed to be: something other than, greater than, human.

So this was really… But then, why… She didn’t even acknowledge me…?

“The Crown-Son...is the Son of Crown Naruune,” I finally forced from my throat. My voice sounded awful; low and gravelly. I tried to swallow again, to wet my throat with saliva, but I did not have enough. Water, I needed water, I distantly thought, though I doubted this goddess would approve of me leaving her presence for something like that. Was this how it felt for others to be in my own presence?

She only shrugged casually at my words. “Should’ve specified which Crown, then. You keep saying Crown-Son this, Crown-Son that. Not Naruune-Son.”

My mouth fell open. “Th-that’s not how any of this works—”

“And who decides that? The ex-Crown-Son or the motherfucking Crown?” she snapped. “A Crown is a god of life. There is no rule that there can only be one god of life at any particular time. Naruune is a Crown, yeah, but so is Arcturus—I mean, your Sun Falcon. A god of life and light, to match your goddess of soil and life.” She grasped Elian’s right arm, and pulled him up until she was standing beside him. “You lose, brat. This Crown decides that this one wins.”

“But--” Forya whispered before an unexpected voice cut her off.

“He won,” Menone said, stonily. “The contest was for a Crown’s favor. A Crown showed up. Never before in history has a Crown personally given favor like this. Does it really matter which one it is? And more importantly, are you going to tell her that?” He gestured towards the Crown. “If so, Forya, go ahead.”

The Crown smirked. “Finally.”

“But if it pleases my Crown,” Menone continued, “may we know whose favor Soldier Elian has earned?”

The Crown hesitated. “...Ruuthelaine,” she said, simply. Her expression oddly serious. “Call me Crown Ruuthelaine.”

I searched my memories for that name. She wasn’t wrong that the Sun Fiend’s true name was Crown Arcturus, and that he was another God of Life...but those were the only two Crowns I knew of. Never had I heard of a ‘Crown Ruthelaine’, though, that name…

Did it have some connection to Orioselaine, or was that simple coincidence?

Either way, Menone had a point. It was unwise to question the Crown’s validity when she was so casually wielding such immense power. Humans could not wield magic for themselves; channeling was merely borrowing magic from the Crowns. There was no way to stand against one such source of all magic, and expect to emerge victorious. Crown Ruuthelaine glanced about the room, taking in the mixture of expressions and reactions. I shrunk back further into my throne, hiding in its shadow, as I did the same.

Forya and Menone were complete opposites. Forya had pressed her forehead to the ground, hiding her sweat-slicked brow and ghastly-pale flesh from the stranger, while Menone gazed at the presence of divinity with an awed and humbled expression. At Crown Ruuthelaine’s side, Elian looked more like he was about to vomit than a victorious and proud Crown-Son. Typically I would have scoffed at him for thinking he could wield my power as his own, but as I shifted in my damp and now stinking clothes, I felt oddly unwilling to blame him. Many of the others in the room were bowing now, their emotions so thick they almost stank. The awful bruise of dawning dread, the brilliant crimson of awe and terror, the literal bile and urine that had forced its way from those who just couldn’t withhold their turbulent emotions. The Crown took all this in with a practiced, arrogant smirk, as she patted a hand on Elian’s head.

“Your king. Your Crown-Son,” she declared. “King Elian.”

A quiet murmur of agreement filled the room. “King Elian,” came the reverent echo.

Nania POV

Like being struck by lightning a rush of power flowed through my veins, awakening my body with twin surges of heat and ice. As if I had only just opened my eyes and been made aware of the inexplicable vastness of the sky and stars—no. Not the sky.

My mind briefly drifted back to that immense reservoir of power I’d been connected with it and channeled before. This new one was still immense, compared to me, but nowhere near so immense. Despite the raging turmoil and heat I sensed, it was hard to be afraid of it. It was almost like a bright light on the shore, as I looked from a turbulent ocean. A shining beacon calling me away from a tumultuous storm, but when I got too close, I sensed a new different sort of volatile, voracious nature. Both fire and water, though opposites, could kill with equal brutality, I knew.

When they brought me back from my failed escape attempt, they didn’t throw me down into the dungeons. Despite that, they may as well have. The room was sealed with a rune-lock, and there was nothing I could do from this side. The lock could only be broken from the other side, and no one was willing to release me. There were no windows or doors, either. Though unlike in the dungeons there was a bed, chamberpot, and light from star-runes, I couldn’t make myself feel very grateful for these amenities. For once, I felt no instinct to pace or chew or fidget or run. My head was so crowded with thoughts, it was hard to piece them together into something coherent for several days, even if I could figure out a way to reform a connection with that great big well of power.

Frustration and fear occasionally pierced through the fog of my mind and the weakness of my body. What was this affliction? I’d heard cautionary tales that trying to use magic without channeling or a weapon could result in weakness of the body or even death, but I had been channeling something. I’d felt the connection, the immensity of a divine source. So what was this…?

Perhaps this was the price of using far too much magic, too fast?

It didn’t really matter, though, This wasn’t just a bodily weakness, but a complete lack of will. There were also my emotions to deal with. Those emotions that I had buried under layer upon layer of adrenaline, fear, rage, excitement, apprehension, wonder, mystery, fascination, superiority, pride, awe. Everything I could have possibly distracted myself with that night, I grabbed at it, created a mismatched mess of odds and ends, to hide away the horror, the uncertainty, the doubt.

The realization I’d killed someone.

Maybe it hadn’t been me. Maybe Talon had been the one to finish off both. But if I had not resolved to save him, to prioritize his life over theirs, then their lives would not have been snuffed out. It was my fault. But it was either me or him, they would have killed, may have killed previously, may have stood by and let it happen, may have helped like me, them or him, them or me--

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anyways. They were still dead. Talon was still captured. They had died, and for nothing. No reason at all.

The other thoughts which plagued my mind were not any more encouraging. In the past I had excitedly tried every method I could think of to command that awful, terrible, wonderful magic again; now that I had managed it, it all just seemed pointless. I spent my days laying on the bed, quietly scanning the star-runes written all over the room’s ceiling. Quietly, I ate when commanded. Silently I relieved myself, washed myself, and changed my clothes. Passively I watched those few times Lordrin visited me. He would never answer the few questions I wanted to ask him, anyways. It was only when I felt that massive wave of familiar power that I was shocked from my hazy and weakened state. Slowly I forced myself to sit up, and planted my feet down on the ground, soles flat. When I rose to standing, a wave of dizziness and nausea passed over me, and I fell back on the bed. But I was determined to see what had happened.

I leaned off the bed again, trusting my forward movement to carry me to the door before I fell, then collapsed upon it. My fist banged weakly at the stone door. “Answer me! What’s happened?” I called. It took me until now to realize my voice had grown weak in the days I’d chosen not to use it. Before calling out again I cleared my throat, then said louder, “I demand to speak with the Crown-Son!”

No answer. Summoning what strength I could, I rapped on the door harder, then grit my teeth and pressed my ear against it, trying to listen to an answer outside. From beyond, I could faintly make out the tones of the guards, but no words. From what little I could hear, though, they sounded just as panicked and confused as I was. My teeth pricked my lip and blood touched my tongue as I sat myself back down on the floor. This was bad. My mind threatened to run away from me, imagining attacks by foreign invaders or even the gods themselves, but I did my best to keep it from running away from me. Even if it meant needing to use pain to ground myself.

The door would open, eventually. A maidservant with hair like mine would fuss and drag me back onto the bed. And only after raising my voice would I finally get my answers.

“I’m sorry that you’ve been neglected, Candidate—err, Miss,” she said, bowing her head in apology. “The whole palace—no, the whole city is in an uproar. There’s a new Crown-Son, you see. There are a lot of changes and preparations to make.”

My brows furrowed into deep lines, my teeth pressed into my inner lip. “A new...Crown-Son?” Skin broke, and a copper-metallic taste touched my tongue. “What? How? When?”

“Just now,” she said. “I...I can’t say anything more—I mean, there’s so much rumor flying around! All I really know is, he’s decreed you’re no longer confined to your room. There are a lot of things for him to do so he couldn’t do it himself, so he sent me to inform you of that. You’re no longer in confinement, Miss.”

The new Crown-Son...sent someone specifically to free me? But how, why—

…No. There was only one person it could possibly be, right?

The maidservant left my dinner in the room, as I collapsed back onto the bed, tracing the runes on the ceiling and walls with my eyes, trying to wrap my head around what I had just learned. Elian...was the Crown-Son.

Elian was the king of Gresha.

Any predictions I had once had for the future went out the window. Where did we even go from here?

Talon POV

A wave of overwhelming emotion smashed into me.

Fear, an awful emotion, panic and dread. All these things I gathered up and set alight, kindling a rage the likes of which I’d never felt before. The aura that had me in a chokehold now, this oppressive heat, was one I would never forget, could never forget. In the dark, I scrabbled for a weapon, my fingers only coming up against brick, brick, brick. Fine then; my teeth and nails and hands and rage would just have to do.

A growl emanated from the depths of my throat, guttural and predatorial. The alternative was a pitiful whine, the likes of which she could never, ever hear from me. The Sun Fiend was here. The Sun Fiend was here. I wouldn’t let her run from me a second time.