Chapter 10 - Fate
There once existed a kingdom named Yeonmo, where humans, spirits, deities, and demons coexisted harmoniously. The land emanated an aura of enchantment, adorned by a perpetual pink glow bestowed by benevolent deities. The night skies adorned with stars and twin silver crescent moons imbued the kingdom with an ethereal ambiance. Two dragons, one black and one white, the spirits of the realm's inaugural settlers, stood as guardians at the kingdom's walls.
At the heart of Yeonmo lay the Lake of Spirits, a portal connecting the realm to the Spirit realm. It was from this lake that the spirits traversed into this world. Upon its shores, the palace was erected, accompanied by an immense temple crafted from jade and white mountain crystal. This temple was a tribute to the dragon spirits, who had guided the settlers to their new home. Towering nearly ten stories high, it surpassed even the Elder trees surrounding Crescent City. Legends whispered that ascending its heights, one could inscribe their wishes on paper, release them into the heavens, and watch as these wishes journeyed to the Moon and Sun kingdoms to materialize.
Yeonmo thrived under the wise rule of Emperor Iilan. Fair and astute, he led with a gentle hand. Blessed with three wives and fourteen sons, his familial love knew no bounds. The royal family exuded an air of contentment, a facade of happiness upheld for all to see.
Amid her third pregnancy, Eana, Iilan's third wife, succumbed to a relentless fever. Despite the intervention of the realm's finest healers, the fever's grip tightened. Eana's strength waned day by day. Swallowed by despair and dread, Iilan turned to a seer—a shaman of mixed human and spirit lineage—to seek solace.
The seer's prophecy delivered grave news: Eana would not survive childbirth, and her infant daughter would follow her into the afterlife prematurely. "The spirits of this land," the seer forewarned, "are the specters of our beloved departed. In time, we shall all reunite with them. Those who tamper with the deities' design hasten their demise and invoke curses upon posterity." However, Iilan's anguish and fear clouded his judgment.
Blinded by fear of losing his daughter before she even drew her first breath, Iilan made a fateful decision—a decision born of human emotions unchecked by reason. Yeonmo's tranquility didn't preclude troubles. Wars had come and gone, staining Iilan's hands with the blood of spirits, demons, and men over his fifty-five-year reign. Certain entities, impervious to mages' might, eluded defeat. These demons, ghouls, and forsaken deities were incarcerated beneath the future Mt. Onyxies, Yeonmo's northern extremity.
It was to this place that Iilan journeyed. He sought an accord with one of the oldest demons—a harbinger of misery. A Deity of Death, that had once ruled over the mountain that was now his prison. He had loved to punish those who had not lived with dignity or morality, all judged by his own accord. Fickle and ever-changing. Without rim nor reason he tortured and slaid Deities and humans alike, building a throne from the bones of all his victims, keeping parts from those that he had enjoyed tormenting the most. Until one day when the dragon spirits put a stop to his reign and imprisoned him.
The Deity of Death had looked at the emperor, ridden with grief, at the edge of madness from his fear of losing his only daughter before she had yet drawn her first breath. The Diety wasted no time in proposing a bargain – his descendant would marry Iilan's daughter, their offspring ascending to the throne—a pact sealed by a tragedy-laden bargain.
"Why grant me such a gift for so little?" Iilan queried. The demon's enigmatic response fueled Iilan's desperate decision—a pledge to wed his unborn daughter to a demon. His rationale: if his daughter could live, any price was worth it.
--
When Eana birthed her daughter, she teetered on the brink, weakened by a fever sustained through months of agony. The bargain her husband had struck—exchanging their child's future for her own life—sustained her feeble existence. As her daughter's first breath marked her entry into the world, Eana's final exhalation signified her departure. Another star joined the constellation in the Lake of Spirits, transitioning from realm to realm.
Iilan had no time to grieve the loss of his youngest wife, as he held the daughter in his arms, naming her after her mother, and the spirit of light; Eania opened her eyes and saw nothing. Yet, her loss of sight birthed a gift—the influx of magical energy from the mages who'd endeavored to save both mother and child. Her body became a vessel of pure, raw magic. As Eania matured, her power burgeoned, its crescendo occurring during each full moon.
Seeing as she had been of marital age for some time, Iilan grew complacent and daring. He thought that perhaps, the Deity did not intend to keep his side of the bargain. The thought that perhaps he would not have to give up his daughter to the offspring of a demon ruled within him. Soon after Eania's twenty-first birthday, he would have it announced that she was to be married to a human prince from outside of his Kingdom.
Unbeknownst to him, Eania's heart had already pledged itself—to another demon.
--
Trapped within the palace as she was, barely able to see her stepmothers and siblings unless it was a special occasion, seeing as everyone thought her safety was paramount; from Death-bargains and others who might covet her powers. Blind though she was, escape became her specialty. Sensing the energies surrounding her, she harnessed her magic to guide her—melding with shadows, turning to a speck of dust, or any entity borne by the wind. Her favored sanctuary was the Lake of Spirits, where the spirit realm's portal shimmered like a perpetual firework display.
And it was on one such day, at the Lake of Spirits, that Eania, singing to her mother, still unconscious even in death, had stirred the curiosity of a lesser demon. Despite her limited vocal prowess, the emotional clarity in her voice intrigued him. Observing from a distance, he recognized her as the daughter whose birth her father had wagered. In his mind, he knew their union could never be. But his heart defied reason, nurturing a desire more potent than logic.
Uriel was a lesser demon of War and destruction. A master of killing and slaughter, he had reveled in the bloodshed of both man and Deity. Until he had to sacrifice most of his powers to imprison the Demons who revolted against his father. Withdrawn and forgotten, he dwelled on the forest's fringes, attuned to whispers from passing spirits and Deities.
Day after day he came back to find her there, singing, reading, playing with magic, or learning a new instrument. She took her duties as a princess of the great kingdom very seriously, but she was born of intense magic and suffering, unable to speak the emotions that surged within her. In Uriel, she found her kin. Knowing he was watching her, feeling his presence even before he came up to her, she knew who he was.
"You have been watching me for quite some time", she said, her grey eyes turning to him. Snoting his hesitance. His silence confirmed her suspicion. "I wagered spirits you'd never muster the courage to approach me. I'm glad I was wrong." Her smile invoked a sense of completeness in Uriel, resonating with the void within him. Eania reciprocated his sentiments, embracing the burgeoning bond.
--
"You should distance yourself from me," Uriel protested when Eania ventured to his forest dwelling once again. It was supposed to pass, he had told himself, if he just allowed himself to touch her once, the longing would dissipate. However, the more time he spent with her, the stronger his longing grew.
"You don't mean that," she retorted. Standing before him, she met his gaze with gray eyes that saw beyond his guise. "Your heartbeat is a testament, even though you're... I know you want me. Your heart my twin, screaming after you when you are not near."
"My wants and what is right are two different things," Uriel said. Although, he found himself unable to convince himself that he did not want her. She drew ever closer, looking right through him and he could not contain himself. Their lips met and it was like they created lightning. He wanted more, craved it. The smell of her driving him insane as he buried himself in her neck, kissing her, licking her, tasting her.
"More", she begged him, moaning into his chest at his touch, and he gave her everything.
Their rendezvous always transpired in the forest, shrouded in secrecy. Eania was cognizant of their fleeting time, hindered by her impending betrothal and her humanity's finite lifespan. The palace's eldest inhabitant—over three centuries old—offered a bleak testament to human frailty. Three hundred years paled before Uriel's unchanging eternity. Unable to endure her gradual fading – Eania thought that if she was born with so much magic, she could do something to change the fate that awaited them.
Yet, fate rarely bends to will.