Heir of the Gods

Ch. 31: Cairna

Elias had always hated the castle on Cairna. The dim hallways and dark stairs seemed to have monsters playing in their shadows. Swaths of black and silver silk hung between columns, swaying in a light breeze, creating ghosts in their midst.

The celebration would last all night, worshiping the four darkest gods in the pantheon: The underworld god, Torvan, his consort Anuth the shape-shifter, and Hallor and Sybella, the two faces of death.

It was a celebration meant to recognize the dark things in the world. To learn that death was not to be feared. To let out the animal held on a leash in your heart. From dusk until dawn on the longest night of the year, the only light would be the candles of high up chandeliers, blazing bonfires and the stars above.

Elias had never cared for the dark.

The dining hall was crowded near to bursting, people little more than shadows and flashes of firelight off teeth and jewelry as they ate and talked. The sound of laughter and free-flowing wine echoed off the stone walls as full darkness fell.

Elias tugged at the stiff collar of his dark jacket then lifted a goblet to his lips. He drained the cup and signaled to a passing servant to refill it.

"Keep that up, boy, and you won't make it past midnight," one of the lords sitting at the same table as him said, chortling as he sipped from his own glass. 

Elias offered a tight smile in answer, cutting into the bloody steak on his plate. He kept his eyes carefully on the food in front of him. Dark as it was, he still didn't want to risk looking toward the front of the room and the royals arrayed at the table.

Tonight could not draw to a close quickly enough for him. Then he could go back to his ship and wait for the king to give the fleet his permission to finally leave the harbor. He could leave Antelium far behind, and perhaps die a heroic enough death that his mother would receive enough money to make his sisters eligible for a suitably noble marriage. 

Conversation and laughter continued to spin around him and he struggled to shut it out. He was hardly in the mood to celebrate.

Not after...

Elias took another mouthful of wine, counting the minutes until he and Malitech and whoever of his Black Crests were coming could slip away to the city. The wine here was watered down, as was traditional. Elias wanted something stronger. 

Like the honey mead served in several of the more questionable taverns of the capital. Or the strong, spiced wine smuggled in from Soria.

But they wouldn't be able to leave until after the midnight service and at least a handful of dances at the masquerade ball that would last until dawn. So Elias drained his glass again and tried to avoid being drawn into any conversation.

The dinner continued to drag on through course after course. Finally, music began to play, fiddles and pipes trilling through the air, winding between lively conversation as the celebration began to pick up steam.

If there was one thing the Metian nobility succeeded in, it was having a good time.

As more wine flowed—despite it being watered down—and people began to move about the hall, Elias found himself sitting with the captain of the Black Crests and a few of the younger nobles. A serving girl perched in his lap, her dark hair tickling the side of his face as she whispered in his ear. Laughter roared around him, making him look up to find that Malitech had joined them.

More and more people began to trickle toward them, noble sons and daughters drawn into the prince's orbit. The servant girl was somehow replaced with a general's daughter in a dark-green silk gown that matched her eyes and set off the creamy expanse of her chest that was on display.