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All at once, her sense of calm evaporated. It was so abrupt that the air left her in a rush and she pitched forward, clutching at her robe. Isael was still right across from her, but his voice sounded distant as he spoke.
"My intention was only to put you at ease so we could speak more freely. You were overwhelmed by my presence."
"I was not." Her hands unfurled and she pretended to be smoothing the fabric at her lap. "I was only surprised. I did not expect to see you this evening."
She watched his face carefully as she spoke, looking for any sign that he had seen through her lie. Instead, she found herself fixated on his eyes. In her memory, they were glowing phantom orbs. But up close, she could see that they were clear, crystalline blue.
"I see." His tone gave nothing away, and yet Cera knew at once that she hadn't fooled him. "Another night, I may have already retired, but the commune kept me awake late. I did not want to delay in greeting you. However, if you're tired, we can wait until tomorrow night to begin."
Was he enchanting her again? She still felt jittery with anxiety, but she hung on his every word, a strange ache forming in her chest as he spoke.
"To begin what?" As soon as she asked the question, she realized what he was referring to, and her cheeks heated. "Oh, that. Yes. We should be done with it. I wouldn't want to...draw out the anticipation."
Wasanticipationan appropriate synonym fordread?
"There is nothing to fear," he said. He was looking at her, but also beyond her. As if his uncanny eyes could see into her mind.
He continued, "My understanding is that the process is more uncomfortable than painful. Although, I know only what my scholars have told me, and I am prone to doubting things I do not have firsthand knowledge of."
"You've never done this before?" She asked, her brows furrowing. Hadn't she heard that he'd been trying for centuries to sire an heir?
"I have not yet attempted to use a catalyst." His head tilted ever so slightly. "My preference was always to sire an heir with one of my own kind."
"Oh," she said, her face growing hotter still. Of course, she would not be his first woman, only his first catalyst.
He said, "Before we begin, there are things you should understand. What we are going to do, there can be no reversal. You will be bound to me, my people, and my lands. For your own safety, you will not be able to leave."
Cera nodded. This was hardly news to her, but it amused her to pretend as such.
The barest of frowns tugged at the corners of Isael's lips, the first time his expression had changed since he'd arrived.
Speaking as if she'd protested to his terms, Isael said, "You must understand the position you will be in. If you prove capable of doing what the legends say, then there will be a great many who will want you gone."
A chill washed over her flushed skin. "I am to give you an heir, am I not?"
He nodded. "An heir which would create a clear line of succession, something Esryia has lacked since its inception."
Understanding dawned on her. The capital city-state of Viranhildr was not old, at least not by elven standards. The lands were ancestral, but the concept of a united elven nation was new to the elves, who had been divided across hundreds of small tribes and a dozen lordships only a thousand years earlier.
Then, the humans had come. On their own, the small bands of humans proved to be no threat to the elves, even scattered as they were. But the humans had found an unlikely ally in the dragons that had once freely roamed the continent. Humans were perfect for mining gems and precious metals from the mountains, and they could shape them into lovely creations. And unlike the elves who hid away from the dragons and fought them with magic when hiding wasn't possible, the humans had been easily subjugated.
Within the span of two centuries, the elves had been pushed back to the center of the continent, unable to contend with the ever-growing number of humans and their fire-breathing guardians. The elves that didn't retreat had been annihilated.
It seemed only logical that the elves would unite, yet it took centuries for Isael to rise up and do just that. After the unification, the real war had begun. Resilient against elven magic and immune to enchantments, the dragons dominated every battlefield. Had Isael continued leading his armies against them, his name and his people would have been lost to history, just like the vanquished elven kings of antiquity.
The reason everyone, human and elf alike, knew the high lord's name wasn't because he'd defeated the dragons on the battlefield. They knew him because he'd defeated a single dragon,the dragon god, Avalrashael.
Every child knew of Avalrashael, the dragon god of the winds. He lived in the vast chain of mountains that separated Kyta, Atera, and Esryia from the cold, dragon-infested north. Most said that he was not a true dragon, but an old god who took the form of a dragon. Some claimed he was a dragon who had eaten a god and gained his powers. What was known for certain was that Avalrashael controlled the winds and was so powerful that every man, elf, and dragon feared him.
Above the petty squabbles of mortal beings, the dragon god was said to have been unaware that there even was a great war happening when Isael had approached his lair. There were many variations of the tale of what happened next, but in all of them, Isael had challenged the god to a duel. If Isael lost, he would give the dragon the coveted crown of his ancestral home. If Isael won, the dragon would have to aid him in ending the war. The dragon had accepted at once, not waiting to hear the rest of the terms. That had been his folly, because in his next breath, Isael had revealed that the duel would be fought with swords.
It was said that Avalrashael was capable of taking human form, but unlike Isael, he was not trained in the art of swordsmanship. The dragon had stalked off to his hoard, returning with a gleaming great sword of gold and emeralds, but he'd been no match for Isael, who'd been trained from boyhood to wield the blade. Following a swift defeat, Avalrashael had permitted the elven lord to ride on his back, flying him to the heart of the battlefield. The mere sight of the dragon god had caused the lesser dragons to flee in terror. To ensure they never returned, Avalrashael had breathed his magic into Isael, giving him the power to command the wind. Then, the dragon had departed to his lair to lick his wounds.
In the centuries that followed, Esryia had regained its equilibrium. The remaining elves kept their alliance, with Isael as their high lord. Isael, who had no heir, and no solid line of succession. While few might have dared to challenge the influence of their high lord in life, it was easy to imagine that there were any number of elves vying to take his place if he died. Any efforts they'd put in over the centuries would be made irrelevant with the arrival of an heir.
As she pieced this all together, Isael continued his briefing.
"If, however, you do not produce an heir over the course of two decades, I will consider your obligation fulfilled. Given the circumstances, I won't be able to release you to return to Atera, but you will be permitted to remain in my court in a position of honor and take a husband, if you desire.”
