Chapter 3
Nxälina
The guardsman's hand was rough around my shoulders as he led me into the throne room. I halted at the entrance, unable to keep my eyes from rising, from taking in the place that King Txülkyrik had created in his pride. He was remembered as the heretic King, for he desired to expel the people of their belief and supersede it with the worship of himself. Temples once sculpted with the image of Säli were taken down, their piety stripped away, and his image instead demanded to be worshipped.
It was claimed that his blasphemies had purveyed in the darkness of Iyä Naxixis. During war, he would return from battles with the severed heads of his enemies and set them into the very making of this hall.
The balustrades of the stairway leading to the dais were built from Werewolf skulls of King Txülkyrik's enemies, leering upward with frozen, empty eyes.
At the farthest end of the hall, a pool of light fell from the vaulted ceiling, looming over an enormous carving of a wolf wrought from moonstone. Its forelegs were rooted forward, with the back legs lying on the ground in a resting position. Towering more than seven feet from the ground, its forelegs were massive, framing the entrance to the throne. Stepping between those giant paws was to pass through the dim path leading to the belly of the beast where the throne awaited.
The chair was sculpted from pale oakwood, the very wood that would kill a werewolf. Tall and sharp-edged, the throne, having survived centuries of different kings, seemed untouched by age.
Flanking the wolves stood lesser statues of smaller wolves on each side of the giant wolf, with bared fangs. I remembered the tales of these four wolves. They were Säli's first children, ancestors of the four greatest packs today. Though smaller here in stone, they'd been enormous; the dawn of bloodlines that shaped the realm. Four Werewolves who were blessed with special powers by Säli.
The blue-eyed wolf sired Tkämeva pack, whose members could slip into your mind, tormenting you with your darkest memories.
The red-eyed wolf birthed Txiyadrys, a pack whose venomous fangs and claws made them feared.
The wolf with grey eyes gave rise to Näxxan, whose members were blessed with the ability to create deadly weapons.
Lastly, the wolf with violet eyes birthed Anäxxus, Werewolves who carried the voice of Säli. Their words could bend the will of anyone.
From these four wolves, descended normal Werewolves with no special powers. This led to disputes in the realm, dividing it in two.
The four mighty packs, full of pride, had a separate kingdom called Nüxwarysta. They were known as the Upper Packs. Whereas the lesser packs with no powers were known as the Lower Packs, with a separate kingdom in the realm called Xändlumry.
We, the Mätleklavs, are descended from Xändlumry in Üxiryan. Though Üxiryan was a lesser pack with no special abilities, after the moon goddess appeared to Nxälina the First, we were blessed with a drop of her blood and magic to keep the darkness, Iyä Naxixis, away from the realm. We had green eyes, and brown or tanned skin.
I looked at Mäeruvax, who sat consciously on the throne in the same pose as other kings in the paintings.
"Princess Nxälina." He looked down at me. "In your absence, when you mourned the death of our late monarchs, I ascended to the honour of the throne. I am henceforth King Mäeruvax the Ninth, ruler of Upper and Lower Nxäerawa. You will pledge fealty to me as both sister and Queen to be."
Though I strove to remain calm, my face betrayed me. My fists clenched at my sides. The blood that had once soaked the red carpet was gone, replaced with another, as though my mother's blood hadn't sullied the stairs ten days ago.
"You are breaking the law of Säli, brother. You are drawing her wrath," I warned.
Mäeruvax turned to the sentinel who'd led me here.
"Remind my sister of the consequences and repercussions of uttering that name in my presence," he said.
"It will result in your execution," the guard said. "Just this morning, two were executed for that crime. Their bodies hang upon the wall as a warning to others."
Mäeruvax's smile was indulgent. "Now, will you swear your oath, sister, or shall I take your silence as refusal?"
My voice croaked. "You... You are my dearest brother, and I am your subject."
He tilted his head in a mocking smile. Snapping two fingers, the door opened, and a woman strolled in. She was clad in a black gown that clung to her skin; a dark veil concealed her face and neck. She seemed young, perhaps thirty, five years older than Mäeruvax. In her hands, she held a black book.
"This is Näzxuxliya, the High Priestess of Iyä Naxixis. Swear by Iyä Naxixis that you'll never try to betray or rebel against me," he commanded.
My eyes narrowed, anger spiralling across my face at his words. Yet I was left with no other choice than to bend my knee to Mäeruvax and swear the oath.
His grin widened when I finished. "I accept your pledge, little cat. Now, preparations must begin for our marriage. But before you may rule at my side as Queen, you must have your wolf first."
I began to speak when his laughter echoed in the room. "Even at twenty you remain wolfless. Is there any hope for you, sister?"
I frowned. He'd found his wolf at the age of eight. Rumours claimed that his wolf had been the cause of his madness.
"But I will have men employ every method to cajole your wolf from within you. Then we shall be married. You will rule over Xändlumry, and I shall be sovereign over Nüxwarysta. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"You have your friend, Txäralyn. Busy yourself with her. Do not try to meddle in politics, and you shall be on my good side. I mean to be gentle with you if you don't try to anger me."
"Yes, Your Highness," I said. I acted calm in his presence, but once the guard led me to my room, I shook with fear. Mäeruvax had committed a grave sin, but it was the curse of my ancestors, the curse of the Mätleklavs.
Father! Mother! He'd killed them both to claim the throne. I doubted he would hesitate to destroy me if I faltered.