To Drown In Icy Depths

The prophecy

"You mother has sent for you Miss Elede," announced a servant girl, startling me from my thoughts.

The girl had pale blonde hair styled in three long braids that were plaited with golden thread. Gold. The colour of the Aurelian House.

I rose from the window seat where I had been thinking about Eveleen and my engagement to Lord Merikh. It had been announced this morning, and all day I had thought of nothing else.

"Thank you," I told the servant girl. I didn't know her name, which made me feel bad. Like a spoiled brat. I was a spoiled brat, I reminded myself.

The girl hurried away, probably having some other occupation to fulfil, her golden dress swirling as she turned around.

I set off to my mother's chambers, which since the girl didn't say otherwise, was where she must be.

My mother, Ilaria of the House of Aurelia, had been as distant as my beloved sister throughout the prolonged years of my youth. Kind, and with a warm, motherly smile that every child wishes for, but distant all the same. Occupied with her responsibilities as Lady of our House.

I reached her chambers and knocked softly on the rose-wood door. When I was little I used to trace the intricate engravings on it of flowers and birds and clouds with my chubby fingers until somebody would come to scold me for daydreaming.

My mother bid me come in, and, straightening my posture and black satin mourning gown, opened the door and stepped into her room.

Lady Ilaria sat at her vanity, gazing absently out of the tall window painted with golden flowers. She turned to face me as I entered, her bright blue eyes red from crying, bloodshot from lack of sleep and open slightly wider than normal from... Well I wasn't sure.

Her light-brown hair wasn't pinned in an extravagant hairdo like it usually was. Instead, it fell in subtle waves to her waist, looking slightly golden when it caught the sunlight drifting through the windows.

She was wearing a long silk black dress that trailed on the floor, the hem and neckline embroidered with golden runes, the ancient language of Elysian. Stitched into the delicate silk, it reads the Aurelian poem of mourning;

When one loses someone dear to them

They wish only to forget

But it is essential to remember

Even if it brings you grief

You will keep the spirits of the dead alive

If you only remember

This poem is as old as the hills, and today, the day after the death of my sister,  many Aurelians will be wearing it to honor her, not just Lady Ilaria.

"Elide," says my mother, breaking the silence.

Her voice is not measured and delicate like soft rays of sunshine like it always is, it's almost frantic. Her eyes bore into me as if she were staring into my very soul.

"What is it mother?" I ask politely.

"Soon you will be married to Lord Merrikh,"

I flinch instinctively at her bluntness, their is something off about her today. Where she is usually calm and composed, she is desperate and panicked. This is to be expected I suppose, she has lost one daughter and now she is going to lose the other one. I pity her almost as much as I pity myself and Eveleen.

"Yes mother," I reply, though she did not ask a question, rather said a statement.

"And you will die Elide," she tells me, her eyes filling with tears though her mouth remains a firm line, "Lord Merikh is not capable of love. He will not cure your Abluvion sickness."

I don't know how to respond to this.

My mother lets her words sit in silence between us a little while before continuing;

"Their is but one hope Elide; the Prophecy of the Nàæta. The one that fortells the fall of a cruel Abluvion lord to an Elysian..."

What my mother is talking about is myth. She is clinging to faded legends that are vague and probably misinforming.

The Nàæta are prophetic ghouls of the Goetic Forest. They feed on the corpses of animals and humans alike, and draw their magic from the sacred ground of the forest. Prophecies can only be made using dark magic, which rots the soul, and so few exist, and most of them are so old the words have been twisted and mangled by time.

And Nàæta prophecies are even more untrustworthy. There are no recent ones, and how could a human hear one of their prophecies without being eaten by them? These prophecies are dismissed by most. Shrugged off as strange legends that hold little truth.

"You know the prophecy, don't you Elide?"

Of course I know the prophecy. Everyone knows it, it's taught in every history lesson throughout Elysian, and if I had forgotten, I would know it now that Lord Merrikh has been terrorizing our lands and stealing young girls away to Abluvion to die.

"Yes, I know the prophecy," I reply.

I could recite it in my sleep;

The countries of water and land will live in peace for centuries,

But one day a cruel and powerful Abluvion will rise, and the King of Elysian will grow distant.

People needn't despair,  for this Abluvion can be killed by an Elysian who possesses the Abluvion stone.

Fairy tale nonsense. And annoyingly vague.

People needn't despair when the daughters of every house are being picked off one by one? And which Elysian will kill Lord Merikh? A man or a woman? Someone of noble birth or a common person? And what is the Abluvion stone? A gem of some sorts? How would it kill Lord Merrikh?

Not to mention how short this prophecy is. It's as if it was only half finished.

"The stone Elide!" rants my mother, "You must find the stone. To save yourself, to save those after you and to avenge Eveleen!"

My mother is standing now, clutching my hands in her tight grip. Her blue eyes are wide with madness.

"You will have three months." she tells me frantically, beginning to pace back and fourth, "You must read every book in the Abluvion library to look for mention of the stone. You must ask around about it, discretely as possible. Make a good friend and gain their trust, then when the time is right, you can turn them to you side to help you on your quest!"

"Mother, I"

But she is looking at me so desperately, and in such a way that makes me pity her.

"You must swear that you will do this Elide!" she hisses, her eyes brimming with tears once again.

I look up at her, meeting her gaze properly.

"I swear." I whisper.