“On the right side of the hallway are the rooms reserved for ourAwakening Ceremonies. Families can reserve a private room, for a nominal donation, to be away from the mass ceremonies that take place every month.” I always provided a detailed explanation of the history of the temple to guests who booked private rooms, like the couple today. I found that it helped to ease their nerves by forcing them to focus on something other than the upcoming ceremony.
“The rooms on your left are for the Bonding Ceremonies. We don’t have as many Bonding Ceremonies, unfortunately, with the lack of Vessels in recent years, so you’ll have to excuse the longer walk. We recently converted some of the Bonding rooms to Awakening rooms.”
“Have you Awakened yet, miss?” The question was quiet and came from the Vessel, her eyes darting to his Mage, who simply smiled and pet her head.
“No, I haven’t. I will soon, though. My twenty-fifth birthday is next week. My mother is planning a ridiculously large party for the ceremony, and I’m already dreading it.” I laughed lightly but tried to tread carefully over the subject.
My parents were the Lord and Lady of Hestin and, as their daughter, I was awarded certain privileges that most of Hestin’s population lacked.
Like access to a priest for a private Awakening Ceremony in my own home.
Awakening happened naturally for every person at the age of twenty-five, which is when our magic finally appeared and we came into an affiliation—either Mage or Vessel—and affinity—Air, Water, Earth, Fire, Pain, Pleasure, Creation, or Destruction. The ceremonies were conducted by acolytes as our power only manifested by the will of the gods. Most people Awakened in a public, group ceremony that fell during their birth month. The middle class, mainly merchants and some wealthier business owners, paid for the private rooms that I just showed to the couple. But very few were allowed complete privacy for their Awakening.
It was a fact that made me both cringe and sigh in relief. I was naturally a private person and was glad to not have to leave my home to discover my affiliation and affinity. But I also knew that my situation could seem a bit excessive, especially to those who didn’t have much.
“You’re Lord d’Aelius’ daughter?” The question came from the Mage this time as we stopped just outside one of the three remaining Bonding rooms.
I unlocked it as I answered, “I am.”
I let the man and woman into the room that looked exceptionally like a bedroom. A large bed dominated the space with little room for much else apart from a plain changing screen that hid a chamber pot and wash basin. Apart from a singular chair propped against the wall, the room was bare of all other furniture and was completely devoid of frills and decoration.
Closing and locking the door behind me, I gestured for the couple to make themselves comfortable on the bed.
“The acolyte in charge of your ceremony will have you lie down while he draws the Bonding Runes. The procedure can cause momentary unconsciousness, and we want to ensure that you are as comfortable and safe as possible.” I brushed my skirt behind me as I sank into the only chair in the room.
The Mage and Vessel awkwardly climbed into the bed together, their shoulders brushing, and clasped their hands together as they stared at me expectantly.
“Now, we just have a few questions to finish our paperwork before I fetch an acolyte. What is your affinity?” I directed my question at the Mage even though both he and his Vessel would have to have the same affinity in order to form a Bond.
“Water,” the Mage answered as I scribbled the answer on the paper.
“Wonderful, and when were you both Awakened?”
“I was fifteen,” the Mage answered again before turning his head to look at his partner. “She was ten.”
My eyebrows shot toward my hairline, but I worked quickly to school my expression. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to forcibly Awaken before their twenty-fifth birthday—it was much more common in the working classes than anywhere else—but it was relatively unheard of for someone to be Awakened so young. To Awaken someone before their magic was ready to appear was an incredibly painful process and often involved an extreme amount of mental, emotional, and physical trauma.
I hastily wrote the answers, my gaze trained on the paper. I was here to do my job, not to judge or ask questions.
“Is this a True Bond or a Forced Bond?” I kept my tone light, knowing that this was sometimes a tense subject for some people.
“It’s a Forced Bond, but by choice,” the Vessel said softly, her eyestrailing over the face of her Mage. There was a connection there, a palpable thing, and I felt a pang of sadness that they weren’t each other’s True Bond.
Bonds were increasingly rare in Elyria, True Bonds even more so. Lore has it that while any Mage and Vessel can unite themselves in a Bond—as long as they are of the same affinity—True Bonds were dedicated and chosen by the gods. To find someone’s True Bond is like finding a soulmate—the connection is immediate, even before Bonding, and after Bonding is even more euphoric. Apparently, when a Mage pulls their magic from a True Bond, it feels heady and almost sexual, but pulling from a Forced Bond can feel oily and wrong—even painful for both parties involved.
I shuddered internally and hoped I’d never have to take a Forced Bond.
My parents were both Air Elementals—my mother was my father’s Vessel, and they were an elusive True Bond. They felt a deep, soul-level connection the moment they met as teenagers, and their kingdoms secured an alliance through marriage immediately. Peytor, my brother, was born not long after the engagement. He, like my mother, was an Air Vessel and was waiting for his True Bond, which was incredibly romantic.
I was less romantic than Peytor, though the idea of a True Bond definitely appealed to me, even if the likelihood of receiving one was rare. As Hestin’s heirs, it was expected that both my brother and I would marry, romantic notions be damned. Our parents were more religious than other rulers, and they both preferred our Bond to also be our betrothed. However, they were pragmatic enough to understand that the chances of us finding another person of high social standing that was also a Bonded match—True or otherwise—was highly unlikely. The freedom Peytor and I were awarded regarding marriage and Bonding was relatively unheard of in Elyria, with many ruling families dictating their children’s partnerships completely.
In most territories, the ruling Lord or Lady would take a Bond, but then secure political advantage through a separate marriage. Most of the middle and lower classes would never have the opportunity for a Bond—with the shortage of Vessels, many of those who emerged as a Vessel were immediately sent either to the Academy at Vespera or secured as a Bond for a ruling Lord or heir—and often married simply for love.
It was a beautiful notion and I smiled at the fact that this couple was able to secure both a Bondandfind love. I wrote on my paper again.
“Great! Do either of you have any questions before we begin?”
The couple looked at each other hesitantly before the Mage spoke, his eyes still trained on his Vessel.
