The Eclipsed Throne (Book 1 of Throne of Magic Series)

Aurelia didn’t get out of bed in the days that followed the battle.

She didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. She only laid in her tower in the castle of Calathis, watching as the sun rose in the morning and fell late in the evening, watching as the Calathians cleaned up the battlefield, the once beautiful scenery now tainted by death.

It was days before they had recovered all of the bodies. Nesrin insisted on having a memorial for all that had died, for that would have been what Elowyn would have wanted.

Dorian had come to Calathis to retrieve the bodies of his own soldiers that the Fae had manipulated to fight, asking to see Aurelia to give his condolences.

She refused – she refused everyone but Calandra, who was the only one allowed into her room for fresh food and water, though she didn’t touch it.

Elowyn. Dead, again. This time for real.

The day had finally arrived for the memorial, in which Nesrin had made it clear she was to get out of bed and make an appearance. If she could get herself up, she would’ve. But she couldn’t.

Aurelia couldn’t do anything.

She felt nothing. She was home, in Calathis, surrounded by the people she cared about, yet it was nothing without her grandmother.

She kept waiting for something, anything, to stir within her, but nothing did except the magic that rose with her rage. Her emotions and her beloved pieces of herself had died as Brina had, in the midst of the devastation those days ago.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind transported her back to the center of the fight, the cries of desperation echoing in her ears, the smell of death, the sight of Brina, unmoving. And thus she refused to sleep, keeping her eyes wide, her body glued to the bed.

Eventually a few servants led by Calandra came into the room to get her ready for the memorial. It was to take place on the terrace of the castle, for what was a Calathian memorial if it wasn’t outside, in direct contact of the sun? They had waited a few days to allow all wishing to pay their respects the time to travel here, and thus it was to be a grand affair. It was the first time that men would be allowed in the capital of Calathis – for all to remember the lives that had been lost.

Of course it was. They were celebrating Elowyn’s life, and the beautiful woman she was, touching souls everywhere she went, both human and not.

Aurelia dreaded the thought of so many people waiting to give their condolences to her for her grandmother as if they had any idea what she was going through.

As the inciter of her death, of the cause of so many of the dead bodies littering the castle’s lands. The thought made Aurelia nauseous and she shut her eyes, blocking out the voices that surrounded her.

“Aurelia,” Calandra said again gently, shaking her. “We’ve got to get you dressed. You should eat something. Please. You haven’t eaten, or changed..” She looked disdainfully down at Aurelia’s black gown from Damaris, the skirt torn in shreds and coated in blood from the battle. “It’s been days. You’ve got to get up.” She shook Aurelia again, but she stared blankly back.

“Aurelia,” Calandra said, anger eclipsing her voice. Her long curls fell down her back effortlessly and she was dressed in a pale pink gown for the memorial, a beautiful sight to be seen. “Do you think I want to be put together right now?” She pulled Aurelia up to a sitting position on the bed. “Do you think I want to be going to a memorial right now, when my best friend of my entire life is dead?” Her voice rose as she continued.

“No, I don’t. But I am, because that is what is expected of us.” She pulled Aurelia up to stand roughly. “Pull yourself together. I can’t keep holding it together for the both of us.”

Aurelia looked to her, her eyes cold. “You’d think if she was truly your best friend, you wouldn’t be so...put together.” Her voice croaked from lack of use, her words escaping her mouth before she realized the weight of what she had said.

Calandra rose her hand and slapped her sharply across the cheek, stepping back from Aurelia, the hurt evident in her face. “Fine. Push everyone away that is trying to help. Look who you’ll have left.” She stalked out of the room, pausing at the door. “No one.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Aurelia alone with the servants. She felt nothing, still – despite the reaction from Calandra, she had nothing left to give.

She sighed deeply, reluctantly letting the servants lead her to the bath to finally wash the blood of her loved ones off of her body.

Strangely enough, Aurelia longed for Cressida as the unfamiliar servants began washing the dirt and grime off of her back, making her auburn hair shine and smell once more of Calathian lavender. They had picked out a variety of gowns for her choosing, all considered to be fit for a queen.

A queen, because Elowyn was dead.

Aurelia shook her head at all of them. “Black.” She repeated over and over, refusing to put on any color that would bring back too many memories of her grandmother. It was too much, too soon.

They finally found scraps of black silk in the back of a closet somewhere, whipping them together to a sleeveless black gown. Aurelia dutifully slid it on, though the feeling of fresh fabric against her skin made her sick.

She didn’t deserve any of this. The people she loved would never get to feel fresh fabric against their skin, or the feeling of warmth from a bath, or smell the magnificent lavender soap. Because they were dead. Because of her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as Rehema stepped in the doorway, taking in Aurelia’s dark appearance. Rehema herself was dressed in a vibrant purple, the bright color an odd sight after so long in the dark, neutral tones of Damaris.

She stood for a moment, observing Aurelia, before motioning towards the doorway. “Shall we?”

Aurelia nodded stiffly, gliding through the door onto the bridge to the main castle, her eyes catching on the horizon, on the battlefield, once more. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest and she forced her eyes away, following Rehema through the passageways of the castle, her hands clasped in front of her.

They heard the memorial before they saw it – the orchestra played loud, cheerful music, the lull of loud voices reaching Aurelia’s ears a few hallways over from the opening to the terrace. The sound of joy, of happiness, made Aurelia stop in her tracks, unable to move.

She couldn’t.

Rehema paused and turned to look at Aurelia, concern etched upon her face. “Aurelia? Are you alright?” She stepped forward and Aurelia stepped back, putting her hands up in front of herself.

“No, no. I can’t. I can’t do this. I wish to mourn my grandmother in peace.” Aurelia gasped, unable to get enough air, feeling as if the world was closing in on her.

“Oh, Aurelia....” Rehema said softly, taking another gentle step towards her. “Come on. You’ll see how good it is, for the soul—”

“No,” Aurelia interrupted sharply, a new fierceness in her tone. “I will not do this.” She took another step backwards, running into the wall.

“Aurelia.” Another voice said coldly, and Rehema and Aurelia turned to see Nesrin, dressed in an vivid blue, standing at the top of the stairs they had just walked down.

“I’ll take this, Rehema, thank you,” She said easily as she walked down the steps towards Aurelia, her gaze piercing into her own.

“Black?” She questioned as she arrived in front of Aurelia, her eyebrows raised.

“Black.” Aurelia stated in response, her expression unmoving.

Nesrin gazed at her for a moment before she spoke again. “You know, Calandra told me what happened earlier.”

“Oh?” Aurelia said disinterestedly, a laugh from the crowd echoing through the hall.

“Yes.” Nesrin responded. “And I think it’s about time that you be reminded of your duty.”

Aurelia’s face shot up at her words. “You want to talk to me about my duty?” She griped, clenching her fists as she stared down the woman in front of her.

“My duty? My duty is to mourn my grandmother however I see fit. My duty is to fight alongside my people while they were slaughtered by a woman everyone considered a friend.” She took another step toward Nesrin, now inches from her face.

“My duty is to make sure this kingdom is safe by removing all threats to its freedom and safety, kind of like how I killed the queen of the Fae.”

Her mind flashed back to the sight of her grandmother’s dead body, of the feel of the black blood from Methandra that had slipped down Aurelia’s hands and gown, of the force it took to push her dagger into the abdomen of Ilaria. A wave of nausea overtook her and Aurelia fought against it, desperate to escape the memories that haunted her.

“What part of my duty am I not doing?” Aurelia growled, her magic swirling within her eyes, responding to her anger, ready to be unleashed.

Nesrin stood there for a moment, considering the woman before her. “Aurelia,” She murmured gently. “It was fate. There was nothing you could do.”

Aurelia shook her head. “No, I—“

“No, Aurelia,” Nesrin said gently. “It wasn’t your fault.” She stepped forward to embrace Aurelia, her slender arms wrapping tightly around her.

“It was never your fault.” She murmured into her ear. “You have no idea how much your grandmother loved you, but she knew. We all knew what your destiny, what the prophecy meant. She was ready.” Her hand rubbed Aurelia’s back soothingly and tears flowed down Aurelia’s cheeks at Nesrin’s words, a low sob escaping.

“I have told you this once, but I will tell you again.” Nesrin said soothingly. “Your destiny is greatness, and you must be ready when it comes calling. And right now, Aurelia, it is calling. Your kingdom needs you, and though you might not realize it, you need the kingdom, too.” She paused. “You must face the darkness to overcome it. It will destroy you, if you do not fight yourself out of it.”

She pulled back, her eyes radiating intensity into Aurelia’s. “Come. We must face it. Together.”

Another sob escaped from Aurelia and she nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as the waves of sadness enveloped her. It took her a long moment before she was able to compose herself, forcing herself to stand tall not for herself, but for her grandmother.

Unable to speak, she nodded to Nesrin, and they slowly walked to the terrace, the crowd silencing at the arrival of the new queen of Calathis.

They had done a beautiful job with the ceremony – arches of flowers and greenery lined the main walkway, a tower of white candles at the center, one for each Calathian warrior lost.

The top candle was the tallest of them all and a pale pink in comparison to the white. Aurelia knew immediately it was for Elowyn, and it was the last that needed to be lit before each death would be represented. Hundreds of people lined the main entrance, from Elves to seafolk to Calathians, each with their head bowed in honor of the tremendous loss.

The trees that grew upon the terrace had glowing lanterns hanging from them and upon every table were lilies, Elowyn’s favorite flower. Whether they had done that intentionally or not, Aurelia did not know, but she relished in the memory nonetheless, walking slowly to the center of the terrace, Nesrin by her side.

She paused as she arrived at the tower of candles, bowing deeply to those that had sacrificed their lives so that the Calathis capital remained untouched and safe for decades to come.

After a moment of silence, of saying a silent farewell to her grandmother, Aurelia waved her hand to light the last candle, the tall pink in honor of Elowyn and completing the tower of rememberance.

Aurelia turned back to the crowd, their gowns all colors of the rainbow, a stark contrast to her black. Elowyn would’ve loved the sight – hundreds of people, joined together, eating delicious food and enjoying the best view of the capital of Calathis.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming and showing respect to all that we lost.” Aurelia began, her words coming from a place that she hadn’t realized was ready to speak. Yet the words, she recognized, must be said – the sacrifices must always be remembered.

Her eyes fell on Queen Amadrya and King Xanth of the Elves, and Queen Sereia and King Zaffre of Oceria, standing together, their eyes filled with sadness.

“It means the world to me that you all made the journey to be here. I know my grandmother would be touched.” Aurelia cleared her throat, standing tall before the hundreds listening. “But it is not just about my grandmother, today, though I will miss her.” Aurelia’s voice cracked in emotion and she paused to center herself before continuing.

“I will miss her more than you could ever imagine. She was my mother, my grandmother, my best friend, my...” Aurelia smiled as she reminisced on their memories. “She was my person. But so was every single one of these people,” She gestured towards the tall tower of candles.

“They were all our people, and they sacrificed themselves so that we could be here, standing, loving, being kind to one another.” Aurelia bowed her head in respect. “And I thank you all for coming to remember them as the heroes they are, and will be to us forever.”

Aurelia stepped back into the crowd, the crowd of people making her dizzy as they applauded her small speech. She watched silently as people returned to being joyful despite the death that crowded her mind and filled her soul with such despair.

Perhaps one day she could feel such things, but it wouldn’t be today. It would be a long, long time before she could find joy in a world that her grandmother wasn’t in.

While Nesrin was distracted, Aurelia channeled her magic to make herself invisible, slipping out of the party and climbing back up towards her tower. Yet, instead of going to her room, she turned towards the other tower, the one in which she could feel as if she were balancing on the edge of the world.

She climbed stair after stair, going up in circles until she arrived at the top. The doorway opened into a small circular room that had nothing but a ledge that made one feel as if they were floating above the land around them. At all times of day, one was able to see for miles and miles in every direction.

Aurelia stepped up to the ledge, balancing on the unsturdy stone, mere inches from falling thousands of feet into the mountain rock below.

She gently pulled at the pendant around her neck, the last piece of Ambrose she had allowed herself to keep, both a reminder of love and devastating betrayal. She dropped it off the ledge, watching as it disappeared into the abyss. What once was would never be again.

For she was the sun, and he was the moon. Forever destined to long for each other, but never meant to be. And in the end, you can’t outrun what was destined to be, no matter how much you wish to change it. Fate remains inevitable.

Standing overlooking the kingdom she now ruled, Aurelia no longer feared the loneliness. She embraced it.