Depths of Promises Sworn

By order of the Vylian Castellan, forever may she reign.

 

Prince Ayre - Fourteenth of Her Unholiness's Brood, has been dispatched to one of your groves for the purposes of completing a binding ritual to the Lunarian Seed Seers Cerya Waning-Moon and Theriya Frost-Crescent within no less than a ten-moon. It has already been impressed upon the Prince that the expectation will be to remain within your borders for the foreseeable future.

Take it as a token of good faith that Lunarian interests remain aligned with the Castellan's.

As communicated in prior correspondence, the Prince will be accompanied by Astraea Wyrmsbane. The Castellan deems this more than adequate to protect our mutual interests in the production of Moon Wrought implements for our needs. The Third Sister and I eagerly await your arrival so that the pact between our nations can be properly renewed.

 

Faithfully yours until the thrones of old are bled dry and our vile moon is satiated,

Morganth - Second of Her Unholiness's Brood.

 

Arc 1 - Everything to Prove

Prince Ayre

 

A pair of lilac horns a shade darker than the rest of her flesh signals the arrival of my fierce protector. My newly Sworn Blade Astraea takes an extra moment to incline her head on account of the carriage’s low ceiling. 

There is no escaping the forest’s humid warmth, but Astraea always brings with her the perfumed scent of some faraway flower. Both are a change from the mountain range I have been confined within at the Castellan's bidding.

Astraea makes it a point to shut and bolt the door behind her. 

Admittedly there is no telling how capable our vulpine carriage driver is of listening in. So Astraea and I have been treating this space as merely resembling privacy. 

There is unfortunately no hiding the discomfort of the carriage. With each vile moon that passes, I liken the confines of our transport to that of another cage.

Whenever Astraea and I speak of serious matters, we layer our meaning in stories and anecdotes. But after a few moons shy of our ten moon time limit, I am running out of patience for subtlety.

“At least the cells in the Castellan’s dungeons did not pretend to be comfortable.” I say, drumming my fingers against an arm rest.

Astraea offers a toothless smile before closing a clawed hand over her heart in salute. “I am pleased to report that we are on track to arrive at our destination before moonrise.”

Finally, some good news. A whole three moons ahead of schedule, even. I suppose that is a point in favor of our driver’s otherwise dreadful carriage.

Nevertheless, I find myself suppressing the ever present urge to order Astraea to tear out the carriage’s cushions. Instead, I elect to change the topic. “Are my blood dolls enjoying themselves riding out front with our magnanimous driver?”

“Very much so.” Astraea reports. “Fia has resumed attempts to sketch each new animal she sees while Selescia continues to remind her to eat and sleep when it is appropriate. Our driver has been amusing herself by answering their many questions about the world outside the mountain castle.” Astraea’s words continue to have this alarming quality of cutting through my dour mood.

“How endearing.” I say, even managing a smile of my own. “It is a shame the roads are dangerous enough that we could not take our time.” I would have liked the opportunity to properly indulge Fia's curiosity and offer Selescia a well deserved break.

Astraea gives me a look. “This is your first time leaving the castle’s shadow. Not all the world is as dreary as Vylia.”

On impulse, I deflect. “You’ve still never told me where you came from.”

 Astraea's eyes drift towards the window. “You would not believe me if I told you.” Her voice however, turns wistful. 

She could never afford an honest reaction like that, at least not within the Castellan’s domain.

I narrow my eyes, but swallow my urge to voice frustration with her answer. This is the first time I have seen Astraea express vulnerability.

Any show of weakness is normally something that Vylian nobility would be expected to ruthlessly catalog and exploit.

But I am not my siblings.

Do I push? Is it okay for me to ask about this?

I should know better. As fourteenth of the Castellan’s twenty broodlings allowed to wield the power and privilege, I’m not exactly enthusiastic about elaborating on what I had to do to earn my place.

With Astraea’s lilac skin, twisted horns, and sharp carnivorous teeth, it is not like she is any less a monster than my siblings and I. She may only be a full head taller than me, but I can’t help but feel small in more ways than one when compared to my protector.

Astraea’s place among the Castellan’s long list of employed specialists is a recent addition. Much excitement was expressed at court when Astraea Wyrmsbane presented herself with intent to bend the knee in service.

Rather new to courtly functions, I failed to understand the implications of her title beyond not being able to get over that Astraea did not need to fight to deserve her place. 

What even is a wyrm? 

Why has no one so much as attempted to duel or assassinate her in order to test her skill?

This is very unusual for how Vylia normally operates, but Astraea has proved to be a reliable advisor if nothing else.

The thought of having to put up with nonstop family infighting before I earned my place leaves me balling my hands into fists and pressing them into my lap.

I clear my throat, electing to be accommodating in my reply. “Well. No matter where you come from, I’m glad you’re here.”

The gentle weight of a hand comes to rest upon my shoulder as Astraea turns her attention back to me. “Ayre, your bonding to the Seed Seers will not change the fact that I remain ever yours.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat for a moment.  Unsure how to verbally respond to that. I decide instead to lean into her hand as she continues. “Things are still going to change though, right?”

“Only for the better.” She says with confidence.

Dubious, I temper my response with hesitation. “How do you know?”

I am treated to a confident flexing of Astraea’s clawed fingers, a fanged smile brimming with self assurance and… well, something I haven’t seen in a long time. Only in those braving the darkest of depths have I seen eyes glimmer like hers do in this moment.

When next Astraea speaks, I recognize the hope in her words. “My life only began to feel like my own once I escaped the shadows cast by my infamous parents.”

Unable to correlate this hope with anything but foolishness, I hold my tongue.

What am I supposed to say to that? That much of these woods still fall under the shadow of Castellan’s mountain fortifications? Or the last time someone looked at me the way she is now, I tore out their throat for daring to think the depths were possible to escape?

No.

My late sister would never forgive me for being as cruel as the rest of my family.

Unsure of what to make of her response, I decide instead to ask the most obvious question that occurs to me. “Your parents didn’t craft you to be perfect?” I mean, just look at her unnatural lilac skin, horns, and claws.

Astraea surprises me by cackling aloud.

“Gales, no! I merely knocked anyone who claimed to be better than me back into their place.” Astraea’s sudden burst of confidence reminds me how much of a delight it is to see another secure their place.

It is momentarily comforting to know that she went through the same relentless proving of one’s self that I have weathered.

She continues. “To answer your question, perfection didn’t manifest until I figured out what it was that I wanted.”

Yet again, I am not entirely sure what to make of her words. If I could kill my way to the top of the family tree, I wouldn’t exactly need a bodyguard now would I? Pushing the dark thought off to the side, I offer my Sworn Blade a grin as I humor her.“I don’t suppose there is any chance that what you wanted included having your every servant and bound beloved selected for you? Or maybe you really just wanted to wait on a detestable Vylian prince?”

Astraea closes her eyes before taking a deep breath.

When her words come, her voice is full of yearning again. “Initially, I just wanted to protect the ones closest to me. I craved those moments of triumph and celebration after overcoming dire circumstances. For the longest time, it was enough for me to be relied upon.”

I close my own eyes as her words remind me of similar circumstances surviving the depths that defined the crucible of my childhood. I find myself leaning against the crimson fabric of her short shoulder cape.

Astraea continues. “By the time I realized I craved the lasting company of another, she embraced the companionship of a friend of mine. It was only in her absence that I understood what it meant to be wanted for more than the purpose I was relied upon.”

“What happened?” I say. My voice surprises even me by sounding tender and gentle.

“Someone else realized what I saw in her before I could put it into words. But rather than contest it, I moved on.” 

Astraea’s words sting enough that I find myself clinging to the folds of my own clothes. “That’s not fair.”

Only to find myself confounded by Astraea responding with an easy smile.

“Funnily enough, I won over another three under the same circumstances I met the first. Eventually I started to really make something of myself. The stranger in my mirror kept gaining scars and trophies. I started answering to names given to me that fit better than anything my parents or I ever came up with.” Astraea pauses to laugh nostalgically, but it is her turn to be dismayed upon turning to see my reaction. “Are you okay? Ayre?”

I thought we were supposed to be speaking in metaphors or parables. When I clutch at my sides, it is because I am finding myself unable to respond to earnest advice directed at me.

This is not how things are done. The strong claim what they want, as they always have. I can only have what I want if I remain useful to the Castellan and her empire.

I shake my head. “I… find all of that hard to believe.”

“I know.” She says, as sure as she always manages. “At the time, I did not agree with it either. But you’d be surprised how much time can change where you stand.”

Faced with the folly of arguing with someone far older and more storied, I decide to relent. “Sorry. You can continue.”

Her smile assures me that I have caused no lasting offense. “One day my oldest friend, the one who whisked my first love away from me, asked if I would help her challenge my family. If they were ever going to seize the throne, no one expected them to be able to pull it off without me. My friends were great, but no three among our fleet was worth me alone in the arena.” Astraea trails off, her eyes searching for mine before continuing.

Try as I might to hold her gaze, I find myself flinching at the idea of doing the same myself.

How long have I pondered how best to manage it? How many nightmares and scars has it earned me? Is this something we should be speaking of in proximity to our carriage driver? Even if Astraea’s story turns out to be more factual than allegorical?

It is hard to even imagine what it would take to follow such an ordeal through.

My voice is reduced to a whisper, hobbled by my own history with family. “They didn’t… hurt you, did they?”

“No no.” Astraea says in a reassuring tone. “I decided that this was not my fight. In the end, my friends succeeded on their own merits and we decided to ultimately part ways. The three girls bound to me continued to follow me the world over, to wherever our hearts led us. We had our disagreements. But no matter what came up, we decided that we preferred each other’s company.”

I chew on all of that for a time. 

Astraea has always struck me as well storied, but never old. If I were to take her story at face value, how long would I even be looking at?

My few forays into the Castellan’s library describes any number of long lived entities. But none match anything resembling Astraea’s description. Could she have gone through some changes during her time? 

I could question how feasible it is to travel the world or not recognize one’s self, but neither of these things bother me beyond the surface of her attempts to relate to me.

Assuming I am not killed and replaced by another of my siblings, Lunarians and Vylian nobility share a long lived lifespan measured in the hundreds of eclipses. Binding myself to another is a matter that will span an uncomfortable length of time.

I can’t help but feel like Astraea is trying to share her own history in an effort to comfort me over never being offered a choice in the matter of binding myself to two Lunarian Seed Seers. But to what end? What interest of her own could she possibly have in smoothing out the life that has been arranged for me?

None of this is even core to the larger negotiations occurring elsewhere. As far as I’m aware, we are just being sent out to serve as long term stewards to prevent further problems.

Am I overthinking this? Or is Astraea merely a useful outsider? If she was hired to kill me, there would have been any number of opportunities to do so for my siblings’ gain before now. That she is here now, working towards my comfort and happiness just doesn’t make sense. Who would stand to gain investing time, effort, and resources to protect any of my mother’s children below the top ten who are actually entrusted with running the empire?

“When put like that, this arrangement almost seems enviable.” I finally say, my eyes wandering away from her and to the outside window of the carriage. “I don’t know what these Lunarians will be like, but they have been our allies for as long as my mother’s empire has existed. Maybe you’re right, and this will be a fresh start for me.”

“It is good to hear you looking on the bright side.” Astraea says.

Circling back to Astraea’s story, I want to ask what happened to the three who bound themselves to her.

Where are her three bound beloved now?

Why is Astraea with me and not with them?

What is it that would lead to Astraea falling back on the role of being someone else’s reliable sword arm again?

And I cannot forget wanting to know more about the one who first got away from her? How much insight could I gain from someone who knew Astraea in her youth?

But there is never enough time to communicate all the things it feels like we need to.

Our carriage comes to an abrupt stop. 

Without thinking, Astraea’s arm snaps across my chest to hold me in place.

Despite being a sudden reaction, Astraea's grip on me remains a surprisingly gentle one. Her hand does not linger a moment more than is necessary.

Normally I can't stand being touched. But Astraea figured that out in the early days. Little moments like that have been adding up alongside this conversation. 

I want so desperately to trust her, but such arrangements have never lasted. Not for me.

Still, I feel I should do more than just thank her.

If I allow myself to assume for a moment that she is trustworthy, Astraea is probably who I needed most to fill the role of my Sworn Blade. "I suspect you are going to prove irreplaceable, Astraea.”

“I know.” She says, once more adopting that confident mask, and not a moment too soon.

Our illusion of privacy is broken as the carriage door opens to reveal our white furred guide. “Right this way, young Princeling. Your new home awaits.”