Approaching on the arm of the Blood Dragon King Huttr Erdhelm, Queen Justine Toulet was riveting, and Layla was immediately arrested by the Storm Queen’s presence. King Huttr wore buckled leathers with a polar bear pelt over his massive shoulders, his beard braided like his mane of fiery red hair, shaven with Dragons on the sides, his strong face beaming to see them. But Queen Justine’s iron-hard frame was pure grace as she moved forward. Like Meryl Streep playing the Queen of England, she was a small, fine-boned woman, with long silver hair and midnight-blue eyes. But as she approached in storm-grey breeches, boots, and vest like she’d just been out for a Victorian country ride, her silver hair in a loose braid over one shoulder, her deep midnight eyes flashed with storms so powerful that Layla shivered – a nimbus of energy crackling around Justine as if her body couldn’t keep it contained.
Greeting her guests, Queen Justine smiled in a mysterious pleasure, kissing everyone upon both cheeks. As she came to Layla, Layla instinctually balked from the Storm Queen’s crackling touch. But as Queen Justine set her thin hands to Layla’s shoulders, giving her a peck at each cheek, Layla felt none of the Queen’s riotous storms pour through her. Still, Justine pulled back with intense knowledge in her eyes as lightning flashed through them – as if she knew things about Layla that Layla herself didn’t even know yet.
The Storm Queen was an enigma, yet as she turned to Luke, she suddenly paused with a frown. Queen Justine’s midnight-blue eyes flashed, and she breathed in her heavily-accented alto, “Close your eyes, child of Storms, and come to welcome in your Clan.”
Incredibly, Luke did as he was told. As if the Storm Queen had rattled him to his core, he didn’t just close his eyes but sank to one knee before her. Layla stood, amazed as the Storm Queen set a hand to the crown of Luke’s head, as if he was being knighted.
As Queen Justine lifted her chin, closing her eyes in a sudden ray of sunlight that lanced the clouds, a shudder rippled Luke. Crying out, he fell to his hands and knees upon the gravel, shaking hard. Layla felt a boom of thunder hammer the courtyard, but it hadn’t come from the Storm Queen. It had come from Luke, and as he hung his head, shuddering with power and gritting his teeth, his eyes tight as if he was in pain, Queen Justine sank gracefully to her knees before him. Raising his face in her little hands, the Storm Queen smoothed tears from his cheeks with her thumbs. Taking up the bloodstone pendant from his chest, she lifted it off over his head – then cast it to the gravel like so much trash.
Layla hardly heard her words beside Luke’s cheek as she cradled his face tenderly. “Do not fear what you are, child. Others will have terror of your power, but to you it will become a blessing. Come. Your Clan welcomes you, and your Queen is glad you are with us.”
Helping Luke to standing, the Storm Queen set a hand to his chest, then flooded a smooth energy into him. Luke gasped as he ceased shuddering, blinking in amazement as if relieved. The Storm Queen had somehow soothed the magic that stormed Luke, and as she took his arm with a smile, beckoning for the others, Layla followed in quiet reverence. Even big King Huttr only nodded welcome to them all, though he embraced his niece Rikyava – something about Luke’s welcome taking priority to everything else.
As they moved inside, Layla saw massive tapestries flanking the ingress, of Dragons soaring through stormy skies. Leading up the spiraling double-helix staircase at the center of the keep, Queen Justine took them to the second level and into a cozy dining-hall set with heavy ebony furniture carved with dragons. A pleasant breakfast spread awaited them, fountains burbling in the corners of the room, which didn’t exist in the human-world Chambord. Inside the palace, every wall curled with greenery blooming behind barriers of flickering energy. Where the human-world Chambord was almost dreary, its gargantuan windows barely enough to let light in to such a heavily-constructed fortress, this palace felt bright and airy – the breeze full of refreshing ozone, the planters giving a warm glow like sunshine.
Layla felt uplifted by the space as everyone took seats around the broad table, servants in Victorian attire moving forward to briskly unveil the waiting spread upon their silver platters. As Rikyava settled to a seat beside her enormous Viking uncle, hugging him again, Layla realized they were being treated more like family than guests. Clapping her hands for servers to start filling plates, Queen Justine began their talks informally, glancing to Adrian where he sat next to Layla – the fiercely elegant Rhennic having claimed the seat on Layla’s other side before Dusk could get to it.
“Tell us of your predicament, Adrian,” Queen Justine spoke low but with iron-hard intent in her musical French accent. “Let us waste no time in pleasantries while lives are at stake.”
“Of course, my Queen.” Adrian spoke soberly, even as he took up a gilded china cup of coffee with a nod of thanks to the server. “I believe Dusk briefed Rhennic on the details?”
“And I did also brief our Queen,” Rhennic spoke as he began eating a heaping plate of eggs and steak for breakfast with cultured elegance. “But we need to know more about the White Chalice angle of the story, Adrian. What specifics do you have?”
“Few, unfortunately.” Adrian spoke as he sipped his coffee. “Only that a sect still lives, that they have a High Priest who somehow noticed Layla is the Royal Dragon Bind, and felt Luke’s power come on-line. He wants to meet them, and has abducted Layla’s friends as bait. The Intercessoria’s recent measures to make our Hotel more secure against Hunter couldn’t get a trace on the humans. And our old measures are offline due to Intercessoria involvement.”
“And the Intercessoria aren’t going to be involved here.” Queen Justine purred dangerously as she sat back in her throne-like chair with grace, crossing her knees and sipping her coffee. “I’m sure they’ve deemed this aninter-clan matter.”
“How did you know?” Dusk spoke up, surprised.
“History.” Queen Justine smiled over her coffee cup, though it was bitter. “The Intercessoria refused to become involved the first time I sought to rout the White Chalice. Because the Chalice are technically Storm Dragons, the issue falls within the Intercessoria’s Articles of Clan Governance. And because Faunus aren’t normally aggressive, they deemed the Faunus alliance with the Chaliceunnotable. Which was why I sought the aid of our clan’s ancient enemies at that time for help – the strongest Dragons I knew in my part of the world, besides my own.”
Queen Justine gave King Huttr a genial nod, and Layla saw a deep respect pass between the two monarchs as Huttr continued the tale in his booming basso. “Justine and I came to accord in those days, and managed to rout most of the Chalice. But the primary house of worship for their zealotry is guarded by extremely trickynullaxmagic. Though we had a strongnullaxin Justine’s clan to counter the Chalice’s protective barriers, that person died before we could finish.Nullaxare rare,” his astute gaze settled upon Luke, “and we had no others in either my clan or Justine’s. If you truly are one, lad, then we have a chance at penetrating the last remaining Chalice stronghold for the first time in three hundred years. But since you’re a mix, we’ll need to test you first and see which way your magic is leaning.”
“But I thought my magic was maturing into a Storm Dragonnullax?” Luke frowned as he regarded King Huttr, then Queen Justine.
“You hold numerous Dragon bloodlines, child,” Queen Justine spoke softly. “Based on your temperament and any use of magic you may have had recently, your power will shape itself. Though I sense you are currently leaning heavily into Storm Dragonnullaxmagic, to truly determine if you will be Blood or Storm and what focus your magic will have, we need to engage a Trial of Proving. The sooner the better – ideally, this afternoon.”
“What does that entail?” Luke frowned, his green eyes sober.
“Facing both Huttr and I in battle,” Justine spoke levelly though her dark eyes flashed, “until your magic flares enough to truly scent its direction.”
“It’s a controlled trial, as much as such things can be,” Rikyava supplied as she turned to Luke. “Justine and my uncle know their magics – they won’t push you further than you should be pushed. You can trust them.”
“What if I hurt someone?” Luke blinked, looking back to Justine.
“That you phrased it that way rather than askingwhat if I get hurt, tells me you know how much power you hold.” Queen Justine chuckled, her dark blue eyes knowing. “I sense a tremendous rage in you, Luke Murphy, so enormous it is blinding. And yet, there is also capacity for great compassion. Will your blinding rage win if you are pushed? We shall see.”
Justine gave an elegantly French shrug that said little and much, her deep gaze still resting on Luke. Something about Justine’s gesture sent shivers rioting up Layla’s spine. She saw Luke shiver also, deeply unsettled as the conversation turned.
“In any case,” King Huttr continued, “knowing the Chalice still have a foothold in our lands makes my blood boil. Clearly, this was an intentional strike, meant to goad Luke and Layla into making a rash dash to the Chalice’s hide-hole. I’m sure it’s a trap, engineered by this High Priest. He wants to capture Luke, to turn him to Chalice zealotry, and to eliminate such a strong opposing force as Layla before she’s able to be a nuisance.”
“Why do you call the Chalice zealots?” Layla asked, frowning. “Are they deeply religious?”
“In the worst way.” King Huttr snorted as his eyes swirled with crimson, disdain in the set of his rock-cracking jaw. “Thousands of years ago, a man came to Europe and Scandinavia, a traveling priest who spoke well and drew many ears. He had no name, but those who eventually became the White Chalice listened to him, calling him theSage of the Wilds. He preached for unity of all magical Lineages, but his words became twisted as the Chalice were born. They believed unity through force was best, and began to line-breednullaxagainst any opposition.”
“To quell powerful naysayers.” Layla spoke up.
“Indeed.” Huttr boomed, his red eyes flashing. “They became a thorn in all the Twilight clans of Europe and Scandinavia. Chalice would surface in an area, nullify any opposition, then rule as if they owned the area, demanding tithes of slaves, wealth, and resources. Which they would receive, though the clans fumed. Essentially, clans were still allowed to govern themselves, but when Chalice traveled into your area, clans had to treadverycarefully.”
