Chapter 69 The King of Hel

Chapter 69 The King of Hel
That night, Vesper prepared me for bed.

She had already begun work on my gown for the coronation, a masterpiece of shadow-silk and obsidian beads, with a train that would trail behind me like a river of darkness. She had taken my measurements three times, clucking about how thin I had become.

"The golden fools," she muttered, pinning the hem. "They starve you and scheme against you and expect you to smile. I should fly to Aurelia myself. I should give that golden king a piece of my mind."

"I've already given him several pieces of my mind. He's very well-supplied."

"Not enough."

"Vesper." I caught her clawed hand. "I appreciate your loyalty. Truly. But I need to handle this myself."

"You should not have to handle it alone."

"I'm not alone. I have you. I have my brothers. I have Hel." I squeezed her hand. "But Cardan is my husband. Whatever happens next, whether we reconcile or whether we don't, it has to be my choice. No one else's."

Vesper's compound eyes shimmered. "You have grown up, my Princess."

"I've had to."

"That is the saddest thing I have ever heard." She pressed her forehead to mine, a Nocturni gesture of deep affection. "I will make you the most beautiful gown for the coronation. You will outshine every creature in Hel."

"I'm not the one being crowned."

"You are a Morrigan. You will outshine everyone by default."

———————————-

Later that night, alone in my chambers, I sat at my writing desk and composed a letter.

The parchment was Hel-made, dark and textured, inked with silver. The pen was a shadow-quill, its nib sharpened to a fine point. The words came slowly at first, then faster.

Cardan,

I am safe. I am in Hel. My brother Eris is to be crowned King in two days, and I am staying for the coronation. After that... I don't know. I need a little more time.

I meant what I said before I left. I am not leaving you. But I need space to think. To process. To decide what comes next.

Wait for me.

—Nyx

I sealed the letter with the Morrigan dragon and sent it through the shadow-network. It would reach Aurelia by morning.

Then I went to bed, and for the first time in days, I slept without dreaming.

—————————————

The coronation of Eris Heron Morrigan was unlike anything the surface world could have imagined.

In Aurelia, coronations were golden affairs, sunlight and trumpets and the High Priestess anointing the new monarch with oils that smelled of honey. In Hel, we did things differently.

The ceremony took place in the Chamber of the Abyss, a vast cavern deep beneath the Palace of Ten Thousand Shadows. The walls were carved from obsidian rocks, veined with silver that pulsed like a heartbeat. The ceiling was open to the violet sky far above, and the bone-spires of Nyxara rose around us like the ribs of some ancient, slumbering beast.

Thousands of Hel's citizens had gathered to witness the crowning of their new king. Every creature you could imagine cramped in that space to witness the ceremony of their new king. They filled the chamber in a sea of shadow, flesh, fur and scales, their faces lit by the phosphorescent glow of the ceremonial braziers.

I stood at the front of the assembly, between Maz and Sybil. Maz was uncharacteristically solemn, his silver-white hair braided back from his face, his violet eyes fixed on our brother. Sybil held his hand, her eyes thoughtful and solemn.

"He's nervous," Maz murmured. "Look at his shoulders."

"He's not nervous. He's just stoic."

"That's his nervous stoic. His regular stoic is less rigid."

"You can tell the difference?"

"I've had many years of practice."

On the dais at the center of the chamber, Eris knelt before the ancient altar. The High Shadow-Priestess, a wraith so old her form had become barely corporeal, she was but a spirit now, hovering above him, her voice echoing through the chamber in a language older than Hel itself.

"Eris Heron Morrigan, son of Heron and Andromeda, blood of the dragon, heir to the Obsidian Throne." The words resonated in my bones. "Do you solemnly swear to protect the shadows? To guard the forgotten? To be sanctuary for the hunted and shield for the broken?"

"I swear," Eris said. His voice was steady. Of course it was.

"Do you swear to uphold the ancient laws? To honor the old pacts? To keep the treaty of the Sundered Gate? To keep the gates of Hel open for all who seek refuge?"

"I swear."

"Then rise, Eris Heron Morrigan. Rise as King of Hel. Rise as Lord of the Shadow Realms. Rise as the Dragon of the Abyss."

The shadows in the chamber rose with him.

They poured from the walls, from the ceiling, from the very air itself. They wrapped around Eris like a cloak, swirling and pulsing with ancient power. When they finally receded, a crown sat on his brow, a crown of obsidian and shadow, its spikes curved like dragon's claws.

The chamber erupted in cheers.

I cheered with them. I cheered until my throat was raw, until my eyes burned with tears I refused to shed. My brother, my steady, stoic and emotionally repressed brother, was a king. He had been born for this. He had been ready for years.

And I was here to see it.

\-—————————

The celebration lasted well into the night.

The Great Hall of the palace had been transformed for the feast. Tables groaned under the weight of shadow-cakes and bone-bread, roasted fungus-mutton and crystallized night-berries. Wine flowed freely, dark and sweet, brewed from the midnight grapes that grew only in the deepest caverns of the Abyssal Ridge.

I danced with Maz until my feet ached. I let Sybil explain the intricacies of Wraith Court politics to me over glasses of wine. I hugged Eris, briefly, because he still hated physical affection and told him I was proud of him.

"You'll be the greatest king Hel has ever seen," I said.

"I've only been king for six hours."

"And you've already solved three disputes and prevented one diplomatic incident. That's a good start."

"The diplomatic incident was Maz's fault."

"Of course it is."

Later, when the celebration had wound down and most of the guests had retired, Eris found me on the Obsidian Balcony. The violet sky stretched above us, eternal and unchanging. The city of Nyxara glittered below, its lights like captured stars.

"I've been looking at the old texts," he said, leaning against the railing beside me. "The ones about the Sundered Gate and the ancient pacts."

"The Umbral Host."

"Yes. If there's a portal open in the northern mountains, a crack in the veil between realms it would explain why they've been appearing. But closing it..." He shook his head. "The old laws are complicated. The Sundered Gate wasn't just a physical barrier. It was a magical construct, woven from pacts between the ancient powers. Closing a breach requires understanding those pacts."

"Can you do it?"

"Maybe. But it will take time. Months, possibly. Now that I am king I suppose it would be easy to finally access those restricted texts in the archives." He looked at me. "I'm sorry I can't give you a faster solution."

"You're trying. That's more than anyone else has done. Thank you brother." 

"I'm also trying to help with the other problems you mentioned. The trade disputes between the northern lords. The debt to the human banks." He paused. "I've sent envoys to Valdris. Unofficial ones. They'll see if King Henri is open to renegotiating the terms of the loans."