Chapter 500 Bound In Blood

Chapter 500 Bound In Blood
(Arkael Ashborne) 

"Which is precisely why the Binding exists." 
Adelaide's attention returned to Arkael. 
"The Sovereign was never meant to bear the future of an entire people by herself." 
His gaze softened. 
"The Binding ensures she never has to." 
The great doors opened slowly beneath the strength of four waiting guards. Warm air drifted out to meet them. Not warm from braziers. From the mountain itself. 
The chamber beyond stretched far larger than Adelaide had expected. She stopped almost immediately. The throne stood alone. Not raised upon countless steps, not hidden behind towering banners. Simply waiting. 
It had been carved directly from the mountain. The polished white seat rose naturally from the living stone itself, as though the mountain had grown around it rather than artisans shaping it into existence. Veins of molten crystal flowed beneath its polished surface, glowing softly like a slow heartbeat imprisoned inside black glass. 
Behind it, the mountain wall opened into an immense sheet of crystal unlike anything Adelaide had yet seen. 
White. Not quite transparent. Light poured through it from deep within the mountain itself until the entire throne seemed surrounded by a quiet halo. 
She found herself whispering. "It's beautiful." 
Arkael watched her rather than the throne. 
"I thought you might think so." 
She approached almost cautiously, every footstep echoing softly through the enormous chamber. 
"It doesn't look..." She searched for the words. "...intimidating." 
"No." 
"It looks..." She smiled faintly. "...lonely." 
For the first time that morning... Arkael laughed. 
"It has been." His smile lingered. "For a thousand years." 
Adelaide looked back at him. "What happens now?" 
He joined her beside the throne, his expression becoming gently solemn. 
"Now..." His fingertips rested lightly upon one of the ancient arms. "I explain how a Queen becomes more than a woman wearing a crown." 
He looked at her. 
"The throne recognises blood." 
She frowned slightly. "My blood?" 
"Our blood." 
His voice remained calm, measured. 
"When the Sovereign ascends, her blood is joined with that of the Emberborn people." 
He smiled reassuringly. 
"It is an ancient covenant. A promise. So long as your blood flows with ours..." His hand remained upon the throne. "...the mountain will know its Queen has returned." 
He never looked away from Adelaide. He never once lied. Not a single word. And watching the quiet wonder spreading across her face... He allowed himself one small, private certainty. 
She was beginning to believe. 
Adelaide moved towards the throne almost reverently. 
Arkael said nothing. He had watched countless Emberborn enter this chamber over the centuries. Warriors. Scholars. Children brought here by hopeful parents who wanted them to see what they had been fighting to protect. Every one of them reacted differently. Some stood in silent awe. Others wept openly. A few simply stared, overwhelmed by the weight of history surrounding them. 
None of them had ever belonged there. 
She did. 
She slowed as she approached the broad dais, her attention fixed upon the pale volcanic stone rising naturally from the mountain itself. Morning light filtered through the immense crystal wall beyond, washing across the polished surface until veins of amber and crimson glowed softly beneath the stone like living embers captured beneath ice. 
She did not see a throne. She saw craftsmanship. 
That pleased him. 
The Devil's throne had always demanded attention. Obsidian. Jagged. Elevated. Every sharp angle reminding those below exactly how insignificant they were beside the creature seated upon it. It judged those who approached. Those unworthy of ruling found its obsidian burning their flesh until they fled or collapsed, the throne itself rejecting any hand it deemed unfit to command. 
Crude. Brutal. Effective. 
This throne had never stooped to such indignity. It asked for no demonstrations of power. It offered no punishment to those who approached with reverence, whether they were sovereign, servant or child. A throne existed to support the weight of responsibility, not to threaten those who stood before it. 
If a ruler required their throne to inspire fear, they had already failed to earn respect. 
This throne had never needed to demand anything. It simply waited. Patiently. Certain its Queen would one day return. 
Adelaide stopped only a few paces away. 
"It doesn't feel..." She searched quietly for the words. "...intimidating." 
"No." Arkael smiled faintly. "It never was." 
His hand rested lightly upon one of the smooth arms of the ancient seat. 
"The Citadel's throne was built to elevate the ruler above their people." 
His fingers drifted across the polished volcanic stone. 
"This one was built to remind its Sovereign she sits amongst them." 
He watched understanding slowly begin to settle across her expression. 
Good. That was the foundation. Everything else rested upon that single belief. 
She turned another slow circle, taking in the vast chamber. 
"So... this is where the ceremony happens?" 
"It is." 
"What exactly happens?" 
There it was. The question he had expected. He had spent a thousand years considering how he would answer it. 
"The Sovereign's blood has always carried power unlike any other." 
She nodded, encouraging him to continue. 
"When a Queen ascends..." he said evenly, "...her blood is bound to the blood of her people." 
He watched her face carefully. Not for suspicion. For fear. He found none. Instead, only curiosity. 
"Bound?" she repeated. 
He inclined his head. 
"A covenant. A promise. The ancient rite joins the Sovereign to the Emberborn themselves." 
Again... Perfectly true. He simply allowed the rest to remain unspoken. 
The rite did not end with the people. It never had. Every Sovereign before Aurelia had completed the Binding beside a King. Not merely a husband. A counterpart. A second vessel through which the ancient covenant flowed. Two bloodlines. One throne. Without that union, the rite remained incomplete. 
"And afterwards?" Adelaide looked back towards the throne. 
"The mountain recognises you. The ancient wards recognise you. Our people recognise you." 
He allowed himself a small smile. "And they become yours to protect." 
She studied the throne for another long moment before turning back towards him. 
"...Does it not already?" 
The question pleased him more than she realised. She was paying attention. 
"It does," he agreed. "The palace already knows you have come home." 
His gaze drifted briefly towards the towering crystal wall behind the throne, where warm amber light continued to pulse softly through the ancient stone. 
"It has recognised your blood." He looked back at her. "But recognition is only the beginning." 
She frowned slightly. "I don't understand." 
"You have arrived." He smiled gently. "The Binding will simply ensure it." 
She waited, perhaps expecting him to continue. He did not. Instead, he let the silence settle between them. 
There was no need to burden her with every detail all at once. The rite had been performed the same way for countless generations. Each Sovereign had arrived with questions. Each had left understanding more than they ever believed possible. 
Adelaide eventually gave a slow nod, apparently accepting that the explanation would come in its own time. 
Good. Some truths were best revealed only when there was no longer any possibility of refusing them.