Chapter 76: The Ceremony Of Five
After Alaric declared the ceremony open, the hall shifted from tension to lively activity. Performers entered almost immediately, filling the space with movement and noise. Clowns juggled and made exaggerated facial expressions that pulled laughter from guests. A group of circus acrobats leaped across the polished floor, flipping and catching each other with practiced ease. A burst of colored sparks sprang up as a group of magic users displayed small illusions, harmless projections of animals running across the walls, shapes dissolving into light, and simple fire tricks that looked controlled enough not to start trouble.
Cultural dancers from several clans entered next. Their steps were sharp and uniform, the drums’ beats echoing throughout the hall. People clapped along. Servants walked around with trays of wine, drinks, and small snacks. Some nobles exchanged compliments about the entertainment while others whispered about Aveloria and her four mates, speculating on what the prophecy would truly mean for Lycanthria.
After the performances ended, nobles approached the high podium with wrapped gifts. Some placed jeweled boxes, others brought rare items—old relics, finely crafted weapons, silk fabrics, or vials of enchanted herbs. They presented them respectfully, each one announcing their loyalty to Lycanthria, the King, and the future Queen. Alaric accepted every gift with a nod. Aveloria thanked them politely, even though her nerves were building with every passing minute.
Once the last noble stepped back, the hall grew quiet again.
The High Priestess stepped forward. Her attendants—twenty of them—moved silently with her. They stood in formation behind her, their faces calm and focused.
The High Priestess lifted her staff.
"We gather here," she said, her voice strong, "for the purpose foretold thousands of years ago. The future Queen stands before four mates. This union is not random. It is destiny, and it is the will of the moon goddess."
No one dared to shift or whisper. Even children in the hall fell silent.
"She will be bonded to four aspects," the priestess continued. "Wealth. Crown. Wild. Heart." She looked at each of the four men without blinking. "This is the prophecy. Together, they serve as a balance to the world. Without that balance, darkness will take root. With that balance, the world stands firm."
People exchanged worried glances but did not speak.
"If anyone chooses to rise against the Queen and her mates," she said, "that person will face the wrath of the goddess. This is not a threat. It is a warning."
She stamped her staff onto the ground. The sound was loud and sharp.
Her attendants moved toward the center of the hall, forming a circle. They began to hum an old ritual song—Moonsong. The sound was steady, low, and rhythmic. Their steps matched the hum as they performed their ceremonial dance, moving in synchronized motions around the High Priestess.
Aveloria watched closely, her heartbeat increasing. The hall lights dimmed slightly as the entrances closed and the atmosphere thickened with incense.
The High Priestess raised her staff again. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell into an immediate trance, speaking in a language no one understood. The attendants kept humming without breaking rhythm.
Suddenly, she raised her staff and slammed it into the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The humming stopped at once. The attendants straightened, forming a clear path as if pulled by an unseen force.
The High Priestess lifted a hand and signaled Aveloria forward.
Aveloria inhaled softly, nodded to her father, and stepped down the stairs. Every eye followed her.
As she walked, two voices whispered urgently near the front rows—Eirene and her daughter Rowena.
Rowena leaned in close to her mother. "This is the perfect moment. We should activate the Wanderers now," she whispered. "We can disrupt this ceremony before the bonding completes."
Eirene turned her head slightly; her expression didn’t change, but her eyes narrowed. "No. It is unwise," she warned quietly.
Rowena held her chin high. "Why not?"
Eirene exhaled, steady and tense. "Look around. There are too many soldiers. Theron came with one hundred warriors. They are everywhere within the walls. If you activate any wanderer here, there will be bloodshed. We will lose everything."
Rowena’s lips tightened. "The coven does not want Aveloria to accept any bond," Rowena hissed. "You know that. This is our only chance."
Eirene froze for a moment before turning to face her daughter fully, her gaze sharp. "How do you know the coven’s intentions so clearly? I never told you about their new mission...or purpose."
Rowena’s mouth curved in a small, confident smile. But she said nothing.
"Rowena! What did you do?" Eirene whispered.
Rowena didn’t look nervous. She looked satisfied and proud. "I have spoken to the coven directly, mother." Her eyes locked with her mother’s, as if she were waiting for appreciation.
Eirene stiffened. "You did what?" There was a slight tremble in her voice when the meaning sank in. She understood instantly.
Rowena looked ahead toward the high priestess, then back at Eirene. "Mother, your problem is that you think too small and act too slowly. We should do what the coven wants."
Eirene felt something cold run down her spine. "You have no idea what you’ve done," she whispered, trying not to let her panic show. "You acted without me?"
Rowena straightened her posture. Her confidence did not waver. "I found them the same way you did. And it is my time to put things in motion."
Eirene’s voice lowered even more. "What did they promise you?"
"Something greater than the throne."
Eirene’s fingers tightened around the arm of her chair. "Rowena, tell me!" she said, the warning in her tone clear.
Rowena leaned in slightly, her voice came as if she was discussing something unimportant. "They promised me the title of the Witch Queen."
Eirene’s breath caught. She reached out and grabbed Rowena’s thighs immediately, tightening her grip.
"No," She whispered, her voice breaking and her hand shaking. "No...tell me you did not do that."
Rowena didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. All of a sudden, Eirene saw the faint black smoke seeping from Rowena’s skin. Her own magic recoiled inside her like it was pulling away from danger. Her hands shook harder on Rowena’s leg.
