Bow of the Gods
Raziel’s consciousness flickered back, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. He lay on a cold, smooth surface, trying to move, but a sharp pain shot through his shoulder—a searing reminder of the brutal attack.
He groaned against the harsh coral flooring of the throne room. His vision slowly cleared, revealing a cavernous chamber with walls lined with luminous pearls that cast an ethereal glow.
With caution, he sat up and then stood. Turning in awe, he found himself in a large, circular room dominated by a throne carved from a single, enormous oyster shell, iridescent and shimmering. Seated upon it was a figure radiating power and authority—a tall, regal aquatic elf with long obsidian hair and piercing silver eyes. His skin was almost an aquamarine.
He wore royal garb of seaweed green loin cloth. His attire was accented by gold and black ornaments.
Eldarian lay on the ground next to Raziel. The young aquatic elf looked up but dared not stand, instead assuming a submissive bowing position on his knees with hands stretched out before him.
The King stood tall, his hand resting on the jagged scar that marred his left cheek. He took slow, deliberate steps toward Raziel, his eyes narrowing, gaze intense and calculating. “What are you doing here, fae?”
“Fae?” Raziel’s voice was sharp, disbelief flickering across his face. “I’m not a fae. I don’t even have pointed ears. I’m human.”
The King halted, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, though it was quickly masked by the cold, imperious mask he wore. He studied Raziel with a sharp, unyielding gaze before letting out a low, almost mocking laugh. “So you claim. Fine then, human. Who is your father?”
“Issac,” Raziel answered, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
“Issac… what?” The King’s brow arched with suspicion.
Raziel hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought. “Actually, I don’t know his surname.”
The King’s eyes flickered with a deeper, sharper curiosity. “And what of your surname?”
Raziel paused, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He searched his memories, but there was nothing. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice faltering.
A strange, wild glint filled the King’s eyes. His lips curled into a smile, but it was far from comforting. “Interesting,” he murmured, his voice a low, resonant hum, vibrating the very stones beneath their feet. “You’ve displayed uncontrolled magic, human. Magic that no mere mortal should wield. You will remain here, under my watch, until you have mastered it. You will not leave, nor be free, until you prove yourself.”
Raziel’s heart pounded. “You can’t keep me here. I need to go home. My father will worry.”
The King’s eyes darkened, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “Home? Where exactly is home for you, young human? A humble village hidden deep in the wilds, perhaps? I’ve yet to hear of any human settlements in this land.”
Raziel felt a chill settle in his chest, his mind racing. “The wild?” he echoed, a tremor in his voice. “Do you mean the Fae Wild?”
The King chuckled, “I do. Where else could you have come from?”
Raziel’s brows furrowed. “My father, Issac, warned me to stay away from the enchanted lake in the Whispering Woods.”
The King’s expression dropped, unable to hide his surprise. “You came from the Material Plane? How? I am really confused now. We are in the Fae Wild.”
Raziel took a step back. “There is no way I can be in the Fae Wild.”
A faint humming filled the air, growing steadily louder, accompanied by a soft, ethereal glow emanating from a shadowed corner of the room.
Raziel turned to see the most beautiful bow hanging upon the throne room wall. It pulsed with energy, growing brighter. The water vibrated against his skin, mesmerizing him with its glowing runes. He took a step toward it.
Two guards instantly stood between him and the bow. Raziel stopped for a moment. “I…”
“Guards, step back. Let him approach it,” the King eyed him with a stern expression.
Raziel walked over to the bow, instinctively reaching out and touching it. The bow levitated and forced itself into his hand. It glowed, and the string appeared. The quiver floated up off the ground and wrapped around Raziel’s waist. He turned and looked at the King in shock.
“What is this?” the young human inquired.
“I… wow, okay, this was unexpected.” The King could not hide his shock.
Raziel raised a brow.
The two parents stepped forward. “Sire, it matters not that the bow has selected him. He attacked our noble children. Law states that any of lesser blood attacking higher blood must be punished.”
The King growled and turned on them. “Then perhaps your children should be punished for attacking a Royal?”
The parents stood there stunned. “Sire, what do you mean?”
The King’s gaze became cold and unwavering. There was a steeliness in his tone.
“This young human,” the King stated, his voice calm despite the tension, “outranks your children. This… is my grandson. He will become the crowned Prince.”
The parents’ faces fell, their fury replaced by stunned disbelief, their words dying in their throats. The weight of the King’s declaration settled heavily in the chamber, altering the dynamics of the situation entirely.
“Sire, may we withdraw our request? We apologize to young Raziel. Our sons were clearly in the wrong.”
“Your apology is accepted; you may leave.” Raziel stated without looking up from his new bow.
The King gestured to the guards, who silently escorted the now-subdued parents from the chamber. The heavy stone door closed with a resounding thud, leaving Raziel alone with the King in the dimly lit cavern.
The King walked over to Raziel and smiled softly. “You did not mention your mother?”
Raziel’s eyes fell. “I have never met my mother.”
The King narrowed his eyes. “You mentioned your father, Issac?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. There are powerful plays on the board. This is not how I had expected your return.”
“Return? I do not wish to stay here.”
“Raziel,” the King began, his voice low and resonant, echoing slightly in the cavernous space. “Your mother, my daughter, she was placed in a diplomatic marriage. I hated it but my hand was forced. Either I gave it my blessing, or my kingdom would have been destroyed by the Fae.”
“The Fae? As in the evil creatures that run the Fae Wild? The royal Fae line falls under King Elderak. My textbooks say that he is a formidable force and only the foolish dare to defy him.”
King Lariden allowed his expression to become stern. “Your books are not wrong. He met my daughter at a political dinner. Elderak offered a peace treaty to any that could produce a daughter capable of giving birth to a cursed son. He had eleven children already with his wife, but prophecy foretold that his twelfth son would carry the burden of the Nameless One. She was too kind for his world.” The King let out a low growl.
“He killed her, I am sure of it. He didn’t love her, he just wanted her to have his cursed son. Let us pray that Elderak is not your father. But I have no doubt in my mind that my daughter is your mother.”
Raziel frowned. “I have always been convinced that Issac was my father, but now… I do not know.”
“It is alright, it matters not. But you must train your magic and learn how to use Aurlien.”
“May I be the one to return and seek his permission to stay?”
The King thought for a moment. “Yes, but you must return, or I will send the royal guard to retrieve you. Do you understand?”
“I do. I promise to return.”