He stood there, the heir to the Winter throne. His long white hair reached to the middle of his chest and the circlet glinted in the light from the bonfire. His white robes seemed to shine with inner light as he rose, and turned, surveying the crowd. His eyes smoldered with barely concealed rage as he looked every part the unbreakable winter king. An instant later, his eyes grew blank and uninterested, as if all of his former joy and love had been sucked out of him, leaving only a shell. He turned and stood next to Dethemina. He was taller than her and she reached the middle of his head. They looked identical as they projected a frosty expression to all.
<--<< >>-->
Down by the bonfire, the elves prepared to recite the Creation of the World. A beautiful voice rose, singing the opening line. Soon, everyone had joined, creating a sweet melody.
<--<< >>-->
From the darkness far
From a rift, a scar
Father Chaos was born
Bearing his famed horn
He shaped a sphere of light
To chase away night
He shaped a sphere so white
To keep the world bright
Even when the sphere of light
Fell and left behind night
He created a world
From his wings so furled
He made the trees
From a steady breeze
Of his breath
He made the river of death
From his blood so red
And from his tears shed
He created his daughter
Lovely Nature was his first laughter
Sweet Nukatu bore three children
Good, Evil and Neutrality
Pelos the honest
Tarken the devious
And Gilan the studious
Three siblings so powerful
They looked with eyes so pitiful
At the creation so bare
So Pelos created the Dragon's Lair
Tarken created the Abyss of Hate
And Gilan conjured sweet lady Fate
To grace the races
And the many faces
On Dargon
<--<< >>-->
Everyone knew of that song. It was of the creation of the world. Most had mothers who sung it to them during their first years, memorizing it forever. Jon had not had such a privileged childhood, and so had no heard that song when all others had. Still, it brought tears to his eyes.
A slow drum beat started up and everyone sat silently, not moving a muscle. Then the dancers appeared. A male with swirling green tattoos covering the entirety of his body and a female with the same tattoos, only put so they were opposite to every swirl on the male's body. They walked out to the center of the clearing, one on each side of the bonfire. Then they began to dance. It was a dance that could extinguish stars. They twirled and spun and moved in such perfect synchrony that the tattoos looked like a living thing. Indeed, the tattoo was glowing green with gold at the edges, and Jon felt something tingling at his senses. Then he felt the pain, starting from the top of his chest and racing down to his feet. He cried out, stumbling to his knees, his hands supporting him. Startled elves turned to him in surprise, but the dancers danced on, not even faltering. It was essential for the dance to continue since they let out the magic that gave the plants life until the next ritual.
Jon hunched his shoulders as he sat on his knees, willing the pain to go away. His white hair fell around his face, hiding his tears of pain. All the elves saw was their winter prince, glowing bright blue, like the palest of frost. Then he looked up, and his eyes were glowing like ice crystals. He screamed as his chest burst forth bright blue light. His hair flew wildly about, but his circlet held it mostly from his face. The blue jewel set in the center of the circlet glowed the same color as the light Jon was emitting.
"Taryn!" Dethemina knelt by her son, shaking his shoulders.
Immediately, a mighty boom shook the clearing and from a golden halo, came forth a being that radiated power. She had long blonde hair. Part of her hair was braided and was tucked behind her pointed ears. Her emerald eyes shone as she surveyed the gathering. All elves had still, but for Jon who still glowed and cried out in pain. Dressed in elven battle armor, with a bow in hand and arrows in her quiver, every elf knew who she was.
"Sylune." Dethemina breathed.
The goddess turned to the winter queen, and for a moment they merely surveyed one another.
"Do not touch him. He is transforming." Sylune warned Dethemina who was about to try to shake Jon again as he shivered and screamed. Dethemina snatched her hands back and bow to the goddess.
"What ails my son, goddess?"
"Nothing. He is simply being turned. But first his soul must be shattered, hence the screaming just now, and remade by the magic of the dance." Sylune pointed at the dancers who still tried to complete the dance even when the drumbeats had stopped. The goddess snapped her fingers and the drumbeats started up again, of its own accord. Giving the goddess a nod of thanks, the female dancer grabbed her partner and swung into dance again. Meanwhile, Jon drew in a breath, his chest heaving as he slowly stopped glowing. Then he stood, slowly and on shaking legs. He faced Dethemina and the goddess.
"Taryn! What happened to you?" Dethemina gaped. His face was more defined now, and most would think him more handsome. He had a more elven build and peeking out from behind his curtains of hair, Dethemina spied the tips of some very pointed ears.
"Oh Taryn! You are a pureblood elf now!" She beamed at him.
"What... just... happened?" Taryn groaned, swaying on his feet, "Good grief, I feel awful."
She rushed to help him to her throne, where he slumped down, clearly exhausted.
Sylune watched them for a moment longer before leaving the elves in a flash of light. There were many things happening on Dargon, and things were just getting interesting.
YOU ARE READING
Shadow Kingdoms | Book 1 ✔ (REWRITTEN AS 'THE EXILED KING')
FantasyBook 1 - Completed *FIRST DRAFT* It's never easy when you find yourself inheriting magical powers you thought were only legends. 'Guardians' are gifted with special powers to protect their world, and when demons invaded, they were the ones to fight...
