Queen Arwen faceclaim: Adelaide Kane
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UMBRA - the Shadow City, Home of Queen Arwen
PROLOGUE
19th December
A young queen stands at the edge of a cliff, her bewitching black eyes glassy and unblinking as she stares at the moon which bathes beneath a dark looking glass of calm waves. Concealed yet utterly exposed.
Arwen sighs, a long heartfelt sigh, as she knows this is the last moment of peace she will ever have. As in precisely five days she will be eighteen, for anyone else, for any other girl, this birthday would be enjoyable and celebrated for the fact that she was born during Beltane.
However, she is not anyone or any normal girl. She will one day be queen of the island because she is chosen to be by the Goddess, who decides when the next queen will be born and the powers that shall be bestowed upon her. That is what Cierra always tells her.
Arwen has the classic traits of each triplet queen with hair of the darkest black and unusual eyes to match. The Umbra priestesses expect her to sit, smile and act like the queen who was promised, for that is the purpose for which she has been raised for the past twelve years since she arrived in Umbra.
She hates it. She hates being a queen.
But none the less she is a queen. The first heir since the Queens of Old to be a shadow and not the usual elemental, naturalist, poisoner or even one of the even rarer war gifted, or a cursed oracle; she is the only heir to the isolated city of Umbra which is so powerful that is like another queendom entirely.
Rumour is the shadow gift was born from the Breccia Domain itself, directly from the Goddess. That is why shadows are so powerful and so incredibly rare that most of the islanders forgot about them as they do not involve themselves with most matters of the island if it doesn't concern them. Umbra mostly rules itself.
When Arwen was born and Queen Halia, the powerful war-gifted queen, had identified her triplets' gifts, the whole island had been shocked and astounded to hear that there was a shadow amongst the elemental and poisoner babies and even more shocked when six years later, two shadows emerged from the concealed folds of Umbra to collect Arwen, as no one had seen a shadow in years as they had cut themselves off from the rest of the island. Virtually hidden.
It makes the island excited for this years triplets, especially since it is only the second year of triplets since the Legion Cursed uprising. It involved Queen Halia's predecessor, Arsinoe the White Handed Queen.
Everyone on the island knows that tale and how the insane legion cursed girl, Jules Milone, tried to seize power after betraying Queen Arsinoe and spiting the Goddess and the natural way of the island. And the mad girl did, for a short while until she was found washed up on the shores near Bardon Harbour.
Tyranny at its finest. There is no escaping the natural order. At least the Goddess made the Milone girl pay, especially after all those she murdered in her ploy to become queen. This is the tale that all the priestesses tell to everyone and what her guardian, Cierra has told her since she was a child.
All these morbid tales. The only thing Arwen has ever known. Sisters killing sisters. Legion cursed queens. Gift less queens. So much death.
All in order to please the Goddess. Despite Arwen's faith it makes the Goddess hard to not hate. Maybe she hates her a little but she would never admit that out loud.
Her younger sister, Nalani, is a fierce elemental who resides in the elemental city of Rolanth, is rumoured to have such powers over all aspects of elements, particularly fire, that she practically rules her city already. Many say she gets her hot temper and warrior spirit from Queen Halia and she has already been compared to Queen Elo, the Fire Breather, a powerful elemental queen from eons ago. Arwen flinches slightly at this thought and battling her darkness with Nalani's fire. She does not have such a hot headed temperament.
But she truly shudders at the thought of her youngest sister, Carina, who is a cunning poisoner, slithering around the poisoner's city of Prynn, and is said to drink the worst poisons imaginable. To make matters worse she is guarded by a giant viper snake, Sheshu, that is a constant accessory draped over her shoulders - both of them watching and waiting for the opportunity to bite.
For a morbid moment Arwen wonders what would be worse. Being burnt alive, being eaten by a giant snake or poisoned. A hilarious notion for most, a reality for queens.
The island is excited for this cycle of queens. It is strange, different. No generation of triplets have had queens quite like this, usually there is one or two that shine above the rest. But with this generation they are fairly equal and it is all to play for. Not to mention Arwen, a shadow, is in the mix. A gift that no one quite understands apart from the other shadows around her.
Arwen has always felt a deep sense of hatred towards her gift, even thought it was the rarest and most powerful talent. Any other queen would likely kill for a gift such as hers. Her hatred of her power is yet another reminder of how useless she is and the Raduron matriarch tells her as much. Constantly.
The Goddess barely ever gifts such a rarity to queens yet Arwen has been chosen, the first in hundreds of years. She can travel and teleport within the shadows and darkness; however, this is only at night and she barely ever does it for doing it takes much of her strength away from her. Most shadows cannot teleport like she can, only the most powerful can do so.
She can also manipulate people's senses to a degree, by taking them away completely until they're numb and drowning among the darkness, or heighten them. Heightening is harder. But again, this takes great concentration and power. Too much strength. She isn't as practised and tends to hide it from Cierra.
She can possess others, which makes their eyes turn black and force them to do anything she wishes. Only with one person. And it takes great concentration to do so, hardly an option for her to use on her sisters as she would likely be confronting them in a battle, making it too difficult to do.
The possession though is like a puppet. Cierra used to force her to practise that aspect of her gift on poor servants that had irked her. It pains her to think about it. Whenever Arwen protested against using her gift on others Cierra would hit her and say that she was "ungrateful" and it was "to make her strong".
Even though there have been no shadow queens for hundreds of years the shadows still have great strength because they have the strongest and rarest gift. The Goddess has kept them strong over the years, unlike the unlucky oracles. And visits to the Breccia Domain fuelled their power.
They do not have the strength that they used to though; in their prime they ruled the island and shadow queens always emerged victorious from every Ascension. But the Goddess hasn't sent a shadow queen for years, until Arwen was born. Safe to say it had the island in an uproar and the priestesses were beside themselves. But the island does not like her,; to them she is strange, foreign. Like a mainlander.
Lastly, she can literally drown people with darkness, draining their life force and killing them painfully.
Arwen hates that particular aspect of her gift, as the visible darkness she created would seep from her palms, which were her main focus point for her power, and then they would into the victims body through their ears, mouths and eyes; then once the darkness had reached their heart and turned it black, then it would slowly kill them from the inside. It is the most horrific thing Arwen has ever had to do.
She has done it only once, but she was forced too by the priestesses, as a lowly criminal was subjected to shadow execution, the most painful death sentence. He didn't deserve it but Cierra wanted her to practise it on someone, mainly to see if Arwen could actually do it. Arwen shudders thinking about it, she had seen the man's eyes turn from a normal hazel to absolute black before the eyes then drained of colour completely, turning pure white as the darkness had taken away everything.
That is the worst part of her gift but Arwen rarely uses any of her gifts at all, she would much rather be mundane and have the chance to live than be subjected to a limited life with gifts or a long life in her invisible cage.
Arwen wants to believe that her sisters have the same feelings of apprehension and disgust that she holds for what they must all do next.
Murder.
Perhaps Arwen's true curse is her empathy. Not a good quality for a queen to have too much of, especially not with her sisters.
Ultimately, to Arwen the triplets are all puppets, with the island being the main platform for the show; their every move being controlled by their strings which were all held in the Goddess' strong firm grip from which they could never be released.
The priestesses like to say she is an omen and blessed by the Goddess. They say how the Goddess is fair and good. How can she be? When the Goddess condones this.
But as she's been told several times before. Sacrifice is necessary for the prosperity of the island. Blood must be paid.
Arwen is deep in thought, the wind blowing her dark curls of black back and forth, changing directions constantly, much like those who dwell in the shadows.
Then she hears it.
The quiet footsteps barely audible, but just clear enough amongst the loud, wild winds because of her keen sense of hearing.
The footsteps come close, but still quietly to try and remain undetected; Arwen feels her shadows swirling around her palms instinctively, contained but ready to attack.
Just as the person reaches Arwen, she whips her head around and sees the cold blue eyes of her main guardian, Cierra Raduron.
The woman is her mid forties, yet still manages to retain a pretty face with her high cheekbones, sharp features, ice blue eyes and light silver hair, that is twisted around her head in an elegant fashion, leaving a few curls resting on her flawless dark midnight blue gown. Silver hair that is common amongst shadows, particularly Radurons. Silver that resembles shadows and smokes.
But what catches Arwen's eye the most is the gorgeously intricate midnight blue necklace, with the main jewel glimmering at her throat, beautiful - but looks can be deceiving.
Arwen shakes her head in relief, "Cierra, you startled me."
Cierra raises one eyebrow up at this and her tight lips pull into a familiar frown.
"A queen should never be startled," she says while shaking her head in disapproval, "being startled may be the last thing you ever experience before you're slain."
Arwen moves away from the cliff edge as Cierra gestures her to follow while continuing talking.
"Arwen, never be startled, always be ready," she says with a malicious glint in her icy eyes, "if you are ready then you will sniff out Nalani's flames with as much ease as breathing," she pauses while taking a deep breath to emphasis her point and then eyeing Arwen's expression of boredom in slight agitation at hearing the same dramatic lecture as usual, "if you are ready then Carina and her worm of a snake will be dead before she even has a chance to slip any spider venom into your goblet."
Arwen rolls her eyes and starts to kick a few rough stones off of the coastal path that they were walking on, while obliviously, Cierra continues to prattle on about all the delightful ways she can kill her sisters. Arwen instead chooses to observe the onyx stones and nightshade plants growing on the coastal path. Anything is more interesting than Cierra's usual sinister rantings.
For anybody else walking back on the coastal path could be dangerous, especially on a windy night such as this. But not for Arwen or Cierra. For they are both shadows and they are nocturnal. They can see perfectly.
One of the only benefits of the shadow gift is the part that makes her nocturnal. All shadows are born like that, no matter how strong their gift is.
That aspect of the shadow gift is why most shadows prefer the darkness and events of importance usually happen at night, a shadow's favourite time. That is why she finds comfort in nights such as these, they are peaceful. The night has never once made her feel afraid.
After a while of ignoring Cierra, Arwen tugs her cloak around further as despite it still being autumn, winter winds roamed the air freely, making her shiver slightly. The wind is something shadows aren't immune too, perhaps the elementals in Rolanth are.
Though Arwen doubts that the wind affects Cierra because they are icy winds to match her equally icy heart.
They have both been walking for such a long time that it takes Arwen a moment to realise that both of them have reached Draven Mansion, her residence but never her home. The Black Cottage will always be her true home. The only place she has ever been able to call home.
The mansion is a tall, wide, unwelcoming black building that is similar to a fortress. It is enormous. Too extravagant for Arwen but that is the way of the Radurons, particularly Cierra. But something about the mansion makes it seem as if it was alive. It reminds her of a spider, silent and still, always waiting for the right opportunity to catch its prey.
Shaking her head at her silly fears, Arwen steps onto the step in front of the door and she truly shudders when the Mansion almost seems to purr, like a subtle predator teasing its prey, in recognition of her presence.
She and Cierra gracefully walk in, with both of them dropping their cloaks on the hard ebony wood floor which Arwen's maid, Darcia, picks up, while bowing slightly, and quickly scurries away, as most servants tend to do in the presence of a shadow.
When she was younger she had offered to help young Darcia pick up their coats but was scolded and slapped by Cierra as said that she should break that ridiculous stupid habit. Arwen doesn't like it but ever since then Cierra has forced her to be impolite and drop their coats down for the servants to pick up. Cierra says that they are nothing and are just born to serve their superiors. Arwen has never been brave enough to point out to Cierra that she is her superior with her being a queen and chosen by the Goddess.
Smirking at that particular thought, she keeps following her guardian down the hallway, maybe she will check Cierra's attitudes one day, when she is queen and needs not to bow to anyone. If she can muster the nerve.
Cierra almost glides into the drawing room with the grace of a swan, as she sits on her wooden, tall throne-like black chair with perfect posture demanding the attention of both the Mansion and Arwen.
Arwen carefully slide into the chair opposite, trying to mirror Cierra's effortless grace but not quite managing to do so, which Cierra notes with a raise of her immaculate eyebrow. Arwen resists the urge to roll her eyes at Cierra's sharp, constant scrutiny, but it is no surprise because even since the age of six when she first arrived, Cierra has always been emotionless towards her with all of their conversations being based on politics and her journey to becoming queen crowned; Arwen knows better than to discuss anything else because Cierra shuts her down immediately. Or makes her practise her gift on some other poor souls.
If Arwen wants to discuss genuine things then she goes to one of her other guardians, Ebony, Cierra's younger sister, who is the nicest shadow she knows and the only one has never lied to her. She possesses a rare quality for a shadow - true kindness.
Dragging Arwen deep out of her thoughts, Cierra's gaze turns to her and Arwen shifts uncomfortably as Cierra's eyes burn with an intense glare before she finally changes her posture and clears her throat, "Arwen, you have a guest arriving soon for your birthday celebration."
"Who?" Arwen asks in puzzlement, curious to know who could possibly want to come to Umbra. The shadows aren't famous for letting outsiders in their borders.
"Your future king consort," she answers smirking slightly, delighting in Arwen's flash of horror that darts onto her face.
Arwen swallow at this news, blinking both anxiously and angrily as she rises from her chair, turning towards the window as she turns her back on Cierra.
This house is a prison just like the island and the suitor is just another cage, designed to trap her in the most truly painful way possibly.
Arwen's black eyes continue to observe the world beyond the window calmly, savouring this small piece of freedom - she doubt that she'll have many days left to just silently appreciate nature.
There are no leaves left on the trees outside which means autumn will soon be over.
Winter will descend upon the island just as her and her sisters' birthday will.
Next will be Spring which is the month of Beltane.
Beltane, a fire festival, when every generation of triplets are conceived. So through summer and autumn they are carried and they are birthed in December at the Black Cottage.
Always the same month. Always the same season. But it isn't that season yet. Not quite. It is still autumn. Barely.
Autumn is a month of change to prepare for the inevitable but this autumn has been a particularly long one, stretching into the first few weeks of December and trying to delay the coldest season as much as it could.
But like all things good on Fennbirn, autumn is dead now which means one thing.
Winter is coming and the goddesses are no longer kind.
Five days later...