The primordials.
Tethys’s throat went dry. What would her father, Obscuros,Darkness himself, think of her now? What would her siblings think? Noble Polaris, always following the rules, or Altair and his silent wisdom. Of all, what would Procyon think? She sucked in a breath, the scene of their councilunfolding in her mind.
The Patron of Dawn was a role only she could fill. They’d continue to hammer nails into this coffin of responsibility. They’d continue to hold her beneath the weight of the world until she acquiesced.
Tethys quieted the tears rolling down her cheeks. She hoped they’d leave streaks in the full face of powder her chambermaids spent an hour perfecting. Collecting her skirts, she rose and started her return to the manor.
Back to the fate that had been decided for her.
† † †
Later, when the temple bells rang, she exited the carriage parked outside its perfectly-pristine marble steps. The mere hours before when she’d descended these steps felt worlds away. Nonetheless, she held her chin high and gathered her skirts at her sides.
This was for the best. This was right.
She would do andbewhat was expected of her. Because this life was her only life. And like her siblings, she was fated to live it for the rest of time. Tethys smoothed her satin wedding gown as she reached the marble landing. The grand doorway was framed in white roses, a train of petals like a towline to her unstoppable future.
Time was a funny thing when you had an abundance of it. Some days it felt slower than melting ice. Other days, it raced by like a hare’s frantic pulse. Today, though, it halted entirely. As if this moment was a mural, its artist immortalizing the candid scene for generations to come.
This was for the best. This was right.
Tethys swallowed the bile now thickening the back of her throat and glanced at the white velvet slippers secured to her feet. Her skirts swished beneath her with each stride. It took three horrified chambermaids to scrub the muddied hemline clean again. Now only a faint stain leftevidence of her intended escape.
With one final inhale, she walked through the double doors.
A booming orchestral symphony greeted her as the guests scattered among the temple pews rose to their feet. Their eyes branded into her, some with curiosity, some with pity. Others offered cold emotionless disdain. The mortal Venian council had been nothing shy of frigid when Tethys made her arrival. Unfortunately, with the insidious passage of time, their bitter dispositions spread like a toxin throughout the rest of highborn nobility. Unlike her siblings, whose power secured their title, only this marriage carried hers. Even in her own damned realm, her own damnedcity, only this marriage secured her role as queen. Tethys bit the soft, inner flesh of her cheek until the faint taste of blood coated her tongue. The audience’s curious gaze branded into her, but she kept her own fixed on the grand dais at the opposing edge of the room.
This was for the best. This was right.
One day, maybe the Venians would realize the sacrifice she’d made today. Her desire for a future filled with love and warmth met its executioner the moment she crossed the threshold and the traditional wedding ceremonies began. For now, she’d rather they despise her than burn the damned continent down. After all, this union was for them.
The vastness of the temple’s interior always took Tethys’s breath away. Carved pillars stretched hundreds of feet high, holding the weight of a curved ceiling. Two monumental statues of muscular stallions, entangled in vines, guarded an ornate gilded altar. Just as they were forever ensnared in their vines, Tethys, too, was bound to this duty. A role she’d been born into. A role that sunk its talons in and refused to let go.
The processional carried on and fiddle strings scraped themselves against Tethys’s sobering headache. Wasshe underwater? All sound, save for her own pulse, was muffled, muted.
Her feet protested with every step. Each strand of muscle fought against her. Risking a wandering eye to the audience, Tethys scanned the mahogany pews for a friendly face. One she hadn’t laid eyes on in years. Their eyes met and Polaris’s grounding expression softened the panic now carved over Tethys’s brow. Seated by their brother, Altair, she nodded slowly, silently encouraging Tethys to carry on down the aisle.
This was for the best. This was right.
Obscuros sat stiffly on the dais before them, shadows wriggling and writhing around his iron throne. Polaris was the spitting image of their father. Having inherited his power, she possessed the same stark white skin and glowing amethyst eyes. Where her lips softened, however, his hardened into a cruel line.
He stroked the midnight black wolf that rested at his feet. Crucis, vicious and terrifying, was Obscuros’s familiar. They had an inexplicable and unbreakable bond.
When she was a child, Phosphora tried to explain their connection in a rare moment of clarity. “It waslike a tether,”she said,“that ebbs and flows between them.”The magic that lived within Obscuros also resided in Crucis. These special bonds were rare, only occurring in the most powerful of immortal blood.
Having a familiar was an honor granted only to the primordials. While Obscuros had Crucis, Phosphora had Rah, a cerulean falcon that took to the southern skies when the primordial fell into madness. The Theogony told of Astraeus’s ferocious tan bobcat and Eos’s amber fox, both of whose names were lost to history. Just as the history of their primordial counterparts had wasted away into time.
Phosphora sat beside Obscuros. The shocking contrast between the couple was now highlighted in flickeringcandlelight. While his skin was pale and white as fresh snow, hers was a glorious shade of black, as dark as the cast night sky. While his obsidian shoulder length hair was pulled neatly into a bun, her bleached white curls wrapped themselves around her face and nearly fell to the floor with an untamed beauty.
He was Darkness, and she was his Light. In every way.
Tethys couldn’t help but notice the tight grip Obscuros kept on his partner’s wrist and the distant, glazed expression in Phosphora’s clouded, milky eyes. She knew her mother’s mind was somewhere in the heavens. Somewhere far from here. She breathed a silent plea to Eos and Astraeus, wherever they may be, that they would one day guide Phosphora home.
The processional stopped and Tethys, realizing she’d reached the altar, stiffened. She turned to face her groom, removing the delicate gauzy veil from her eyes.
“I began to think you’d changed your mind,” Procyon said, taking her hand.
† † †
