Heir of the Underground

Chapter 2: Aurelia

Magni made his way across the room with grace, his head held high. Overall, he seemed to be a very well-behaved and trained young man, yet he still had a boyishness about him.

He was only about twenty-four years old, and had the face of someone at least five years younger than that. His hair was a mess of strawberry blond curls, matted down by his gold crown, whilst his eyes were the color of tree bark. And there was a permanent smirk glued to his face, making him seem as though he were just a child who was playing at a game that he didn't quite understand.

Behind him trailed his advisor, Quietus, who always carried an air of mystery and intimidation with him thanks to his quiet demeanor and eerie physique. His skin was pale, and his hair was long and matte black, like onyx, matching with the dark robe he always wore which hid his hands, feet, and neck. But worst of all were his eyes—pitch black and bottomless, void of any sort of sympathy or cheer. Aurelia avoided him at all costs.

The duo finished crossing the room, and reached the base of the marbled staircase which led to Magni's throne. And as Magni ascended the stairs, leaving Quietus to stand watch on the ground floor, the entire room burst into applause.

Aurelia felt the pressure of her role as a Child of the Patron weighing down on her, and caved, giving into the clapping. She joined along even though all she wanted to do was roll her eyes at Magni.

She knew that he was the High King, the human incarnation of the Patron, their almighty deity. But given Magni's childish look, she always had such a hard time believing that he was a god, and she felt even more ridiculous worshipping and praising him because of the fact that he had accomplished nothing.

It was Magni's grandfather, Fenric, who had established himself as king and started the war, and it was Magni's father, Percival, who had finished the war. Magni had only been on the and so far, he had proven himself to be quite useless and void of ambition, unlike his predecessors.

The crowd finished their clapping when Magni finally reached the top of the stairs, having succeeded in not making a single misstep. He sat down in his throne, lounging back, and smiled gleefully at his audience.

Now that the High King was present and situated, the real festivities could begin. Namely, the gifting hour could begin—a time in which the other nobles showered the High King in fanciful and undeserved presents.

First, Magni called on Tanasis to deliver their gifts. Aurelia watched, disinterested, as Clyve rose from his seat, preparing to hand over Magni's presents on behalf of his kingdom. He rambled on endlessly, spewing words of flattery and grandeur until Aurelia couldn't take it anymore. Bored, she turned away and busied herself with the music in front of her instead.

Behind Aurelia, the enslaved Fey finished tuning up their instruments and ruffled through their own music. Aurelia tried not to pay too much attention to the glassy look in their eyes as she watched them skim over the work before them.

In the distance, she could hear more discussion, bits of words and phrases floating around the room, like "crown fit for a king." Still, she didn't bother reengaging with the event, and continued focusing on the music at hand, rehashing lyrics to songs, ensuring that they really were as memorized and ingrained in her mind as she thought them to be.

One of the songs in front of her was titled Savior, and it riddled on and on about how the High King had saved the humans from the Fey. What was perhaps the most sickening lyric from the song read: "All Fey are better off dead; cut them so their necks run red."

Aurelia felt the sudden sting of the enslaved Fey's eyes on her back. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she couldn't help the guilt that rushed through her veins. There was something that felt wrong about singing these songs in the Fey's presence, and yet she knew that she had no choice.