The prudent heir takes careful inventory of his legacies,

and gives a faithful accounting to those whom he owes an obligation of trust.

John F. Kennedy

── •✧• ──

I'm told if you're lucky, you possess the privilege of having a lot of birthdays in one lifetime. Yet, so far, having sixteen years of life in my rearview does not feel like being lucky. I could do without all the fanfare. If it was up to me, I would pass on the extravagant affair that my birthday has become. The occasion has become not about me, at least not anymore. It has become an opportunity for my family to showcase their success. As well as parade me around as the heir of the empire. I suppose in some ways it shows my guardians are proud to call me theirs. I am a daughter, a protégé, and a mentee. However, it also shows they care more about putting on the best party than caring about what I want.

Her majesty, Cornelia of Marona, has not been the most loving parent I could ask for. She often missed the mark in the realm of seeing me for who I am. Her view of her own daughter has been a product of our status as protectors of Márona. We are the royal figureheads in place for when or if all hell breaks loose. In the last three years, we have been the ones holding back hell. Or, as most on the outskirts of Márona would refer to it as those who keep humans out.

In all the years before my lifetime, The Alliance of Six has lived in perfect unity. We are each others' yin and yang. Humans disrupt the balance we have in the alliance. Within the internal workings of the six Elven clans there were pairings of countermeasures. The Spellbound balanced High Elves. It was the purpose of the Druids to even out the Dark Elves tendencies. The Light Elves found their center through the influence of Witches. But humans have historically been the destructive innovators of our peace, environment, and stability.

Our lands used to stretch across the globe. But now we only have Márona. Our last refuge on the earth for elves. My family has hidden it from humankind for many years. I am reminded of this as I saunter through the party. There are whispers of dissention in our ranks, those who sympathize with humans. A son of an elven leader, defected to the human world with his ability to heal. It was a time humans had a substantial need of healers. But my father, the Grand Lord of Márona, said the act was an open door. It caused an invasion sparked by curiosity.

"He wasn't even punished for leaving us open to attack." The voice screeched and pierced my attentive ears with their whispers.

The stranger that responded wore the regalia of light. "I heard he is living cushy in the neverlands."

She scoffed and stumped her feet. "The nerve. Screw us all over, get set up in the neverlands."

"You know he was almost betrothed to the heir? It's nepotism." The other's drink sloshed around as he gave his choice words.

"It's disgusting is what it is."

Even at my birthday celebration, they continue to whisper about it. There are many guests well acquainted with my family that I would not call my friends. They speak of a present peril on our borders. A border my father recently gave his life to ensure no such threat existed.

"The new age will be ours one day soon," someone whispered behind me.

"Soon." Another chimed in.

"They dwindle in size. It won't be long." The first echoed back, their glasses clank together in toast. They drank and cheered.

It's hard for those outside of our society to understand how much we have lost when the humans settled in areas where we had once called home. In my opinion, many also forget that we came first. The world was once our oasis until humans took more ground and explored the globe. Now we must fight for every inch of land and water left.

The Alliance of Six are powerful enough to win any war against humanity. The high elves can only do so much alone. Once my people, the high elves, were many families, who lived in many regions, while having the power and influence to keep human civilization at bay. Until the sympathizer rose up. As long as I don't look too closely or pay attention, everything seems normal. There is no threat of war. No imminent danger. Everything looks like it did five years ago.

Nothing changes except for the occasional attack made upon us. And yet there is still conflict within Márona, those who believe that the threat is imminent, and that dangers are lurking around every corner. Those same individuals also believe that my family, the last remaining high elves, is not doing enough in regards to the threat the sympathizer brought us.

There are two opposing views - those who support the crown, and those who oppose it. Knowing all this makes me leery of the day the crown will be mine. The day is fast approaching, with today being my birthday, the start of setting me as the crowned princess of Márona has begun. I feel the tension of the two groups as I meander through those gathered here in the palace to celebrate my sixteen years of life. Sixteen Elven years, one-hundred-and-sixty human years.

A high witch priestess grabbed my arm, looking me directly in my brown eyes. "Don't take the worn path." Then she released my arm and walked away. I watched as she got lost in the crowd of guests. Her fleeing figure and gown flowed in the gust of air she created as she swiftly departed. And then I was alone again, at a party crafted for me.

The high priestess's words kept me company to some extent. I knew her for giving a timely word, and yet, it was hard to make what she said less vague. "Don't take the worn path." Repeating the words over and over in my head did not provide revelation.

"Happy Birthday, dearest cousin." He bowed low at the waist. It was unnecessary in my opinion, but it also was the dark Elven accustomed greeting to honor those in leadership. When he rose, I provided for him a gracious smile. Then stepped in to enact what was customary, since he decided we were being formal.

"May the light of Dawn illuminate your path, May the wind of Heron guide you to wisdom, and at the end of your journey may Dove greet you there." It was my father's favorite greeting. It felt fitting to recite for his nephew.

"Has anyone tried to present themselves as eligible suitors yet?" He leaned in to whisper as his eyes scanned the ballroom.

"Mm, that started weeks ago, cousin. Keep up." I patted his shoulder to console his plain slowness.

He laughed, and it was like birds singing at dawn. "Have you accepted a hand?"

"No." I spoke firmly. There was not an ounce of longing in me for that awaiting decision. "Really, you know my mother would not allow me to accept the first." Thank the living light of dawn. "As she says, their eagerness will be noted. But the first offers are the foundation for others to build upon and one up."

He bounced on his heels and cleared his throat. "So a bidding war for your virtue and your hand. Here, I thought you were more priceless than that."

"No one deserves me." I paused. "And no one meets my standards."

"Yet." He warned me with his words and with a look of mischief in his eyes.

Just beyond my cousin, over his shoulder, I saw my mom. The Lord Mystralath of the Dark Elves slipped into the shadows with my mom on his arm. They'd always been friends since childhood. My mom knew him longer than she knew my father. And yet, my mom married my father instead of Lord Mystralath. As far as I knew, there was no love lost. Though since my father's untimely passing, Lord Mystralath had been around more.

Closing my eyes made all sounds louder. I mastered focusing upon the sounds I wished to hear clearer.

"When will you tell her?" Lord Mystralath, my honorary uncle, asked my mother.

"When the time is right."

They wouldn't, would they? My father had only been gone two full moons... There were a lot of things my mom could finally tell me. What Lord Mystralath spoke of was hard to pin down to one thing. Lord Mystralath was my dad's advisor. What he and my mom knew could fill the sky with stars.

"Ugh." I groaned and opened my eyes. Before me, my cousin stood to block my obvious nosiness from the various eyes that lurked all around us. "Do you know what that is about?" With my raised glass, I graciously gestured to my mom's fleeting figure.

My cousin shook his head. "Hm." He was an advisor to the Lord of the Dark Elves, a high elf sent to protect the interest of the realm. "Come, come, let's get your celebration going properly. For that." He pointed to where my mom once was. "That is none of our business."

I followed behind him through the crowd while the music played over the speakers. The room seemed to become more crowded as we arrived at the center of the ballroom. The table was fit and designated for the heir of Márona. We took seats at the table surrounded by the dance floor. We sat in a raised position. I could see the ballroom from end to end. Through the open doors leading to the gardens, I could smell the scents of flowers mingling with the fragrant aroma of the food. All of my favorite dishes were present tonight. At least that was one thing that made this party somewhat for me and not just a political endeavor.

"You look lovely, my lady." A deep voice sounded beside me. "Your person has never looked so regal, or beautiful, if I dare say so myself. Your hair glows under its reflection, as does your skin."

I turned to look at yet another potential suitor. He was easy on the eyes despite his accolades within the introduction being ill-fitted to me. "And to think most start with Happy Birthday. Thank you." I flashed a look at my cousin, who for some reason had gone stiff. He missed out on the enjoyment of my little personal indulgence in fun. "How are you this evening, Lord Netyoi?"

"Lord Netyoive, thank you very much," he replied smoothly. His perfectly polished attire only enhanced his smooth mannerisms. Unlike the rest of the attendees, he wore no jewelry save for his family's emblem, which matched his fiery red hair. "My night has been missing your company. Now that I have it. I'm doing quite well. Perhaps, you may grace with me with a dance?"

"It would not be a gracious gift, but more of a curse, Lord Netyoive. I took ballroom dancing, but I did not take to ballroom."

Necessity forced me into dancing lessons once every few months, and even then I hated it. To make matters worse, the instructors all seemed to assume I'd grown bored with them after learning the basics. Each had formed some reason to resign after teaching the basics of their dance area of expertise. An illness was the cause of the first to resign. She was an orphan the palace had taken in and raised. I saw her around the palace in the utmost vigor of life, and giving dance lessons to my cousins. After that, the other instructors I had also departed, stating a reason to resign that would give them leave of me, my two left feet, and keen hearing.

"If that does not please you, your highness, if you wish, perhaps a song instead? One of yours? You've written a number of songs recently, haven't you? Music is something I enjoy immensely. I could accompany you..." Lord Netyovie looked at the musician pit.

Once again, I looked to my suddenly silent cousin. Then he opened his mouth. "She writes beautiful songs. Given to her by the Dove of Dawn. You haven't heard music until you've heard, her royal highness Princess Dahlia, play and sing."

He was of no assistance, at least not in the way I had hoped. Lord Netyovie's eyes danced with unspeakable excitement, that it felt so wrong to be the one to deprive him. Meanwhile, my cousin's features held an annoying grin as his eyes danced. He spoke into my mind. "Is Lord Netyoive the one? Is it love at first sight? Should I fret the high priestess? Will this be a wedding, your birthday, and the beginning of your reign all in one night?"

The Lord made a request, and I tipped my head up to him. "I do not wish, my lord." It did not incline me to be paraded around, nor did I care for the gossip. The gossip would be like the incessant chatter my cousin was pouring into my mind.

"Very well." Lord Netyoive turned abruptly and walked away from me and to the next eligible high-ranking female within the ballroom. She seemed more inclined to his advances than I was.

"Now, when are we celebrating?" I asked my cousin, who smiled back at me devilishly. Attuning my keen ears for his answer had me picking up a different conversation by happenstance.

"She is no better than her mother. They'll be the death of royalty, of our people, and our great nation." I heard the older voice griping, although I could not see her.

"We need... drinks." My cousin left to fetch us drinks. I ventured to see who dared to be so bold in accusations made under our roof. In my best effort, I managed not to roll my eyes as the woman continued to grandstand.

Her pleasantries lasted for a breath as she noticed me. "Many blessings to you on your day of beginnings, your highness." She was from the old country, from the land that once was, but now was a history lesson for many, including myself.

"Delighted to be your hostess this evening." I wore a plastered on smile.

Then she let her words loose without care. At least that's how it seemed to me. "You know, dear, Márona had a golden era. A time when its leadership was abundant, and proficient at more useful contributions than throwing parties." She pursed her lips and sipped from her flute of champagne. She was old and gnarly. Meanwhile, her posture left much to be desired.

It was hard to ignore the blatant jab at my mom, the ruler until I came of age today. My mom was never destined to lead. She was my dad's partner, his support system. That was the life she had wanted. She always said to find a spouse who takes care of the day-to-day concerns so your singular focus can be protecting Márona. If I were a bolder sort, I would have told the woman with pursed lips that she was an ungrateful subject and my dad still gave his life to protect her. A saying of wisdom was better than the outburst I wanted to embrace.

Instead, I kept my plastered smile on. "Never underestimate the power of an excellent party." I gestured to the room. All the leaders of Márona were here. Even though I whined about the party, I could not deny it was serving a purpose. It was not necessarily the purpose stated on the invitation, but these parties often were the veil used to hide clandestine affairs and other agendas. "Cheers! To the health and wealth of Márona." I had no flute to rise or clank against hers, and took that as a cue to leave her company and find my cousin.

The woman's upper lip curled and her eyes darkened. Her glass raised to hover in front of her curved lips. "To the future of Márona. To your health."

My footsteps faltered, though my gaze did not return to her. The old hag's words held a venom to them. I felt it in my instincts. It turned my stomach upside down. Her toast in reply felt like a threat to me: the heir and future of Márona. It would have been prudent to report her to my nearest guard or a whispered word to one of my advisors. But I did not want to stay in the fray of the party any longer.

From the old hag's presence, I found my cousin Xavier. From him I took the promised drink. I had done my due diligence. This time was mine, and I did not wish to tie myself up explaining the feeling I felt even though her words held no alert by restatement alone. Instead, I moved from the crowds, where more like the woman I just encountered were sure to exist. Every person for whom I had to greet and acknowledge, I did so.

I dwelt on it until I saw the Seldarine triples. Erdriea, Galena, and Onali were the light elves of the Seldarine family line. Their origin story was unique to them, three light elves born under the same sunrise. Usually there was one light elf born every one thousand sunrises. But the thousandth sunrise that brought the Seldarine triples was one following a blood moon, instead of one there were three.

Erdriea the nurturer. I have heard it said of him that kindness and generosity flowed from his bosom. I have known him for being one with nature. Erdriea commands the seasons and influences the waters with his light. I likened him to the moon and sun with his light Elven abilities.

His sister, Galena, has been my advisor. She is the embodiment of our Elven histories. At birth, she was blessed with knowledge and the gift of sight. She dreams of omens, signs, and possible futures. She can also read someone's origins. Gelena operates in the divine light.

And Onali the youngest of the triples and the most unassuming. Onali gives life and death through her Elven abilities. She can restore someone's health as easily as she can remove it. The light elf has been known to be a lover and a fighter. One time I called her my love. It did not last for us.

Each was a wonder of their own. There was a Seldarine in every territory of Márona. One in the capital serving the royal high elves, Galena. Another with Lord Mystralath and my cousin Xavier, Erdriea.. And with her own people, Onali.

Because I did not want to linger, I solely waved to Erdriea and Onali as I passed by them. Afterwards, I moved to excuse myself from the festivities. As soon as I exited the ballroom, I found Galena waiting patiently.

"Not now, Galena." It was not princess-like, but I whined and my shoulders slumped forward. I could bet she already had news about how my efforts were fairing with each of the regional representatives I had spoken with. It was not something I was ready to dive into, especially not the politics of it all. I wanted to celebrate my birthday, do something for myself that was not part of a grander ploy or an act to unite the realm. I wanted to be selfish.

But Galena wouldn't let me get away without hearing her say something. Not just anyone can walk past her when she wishes them not to. She was responsible for more than being my right hand. Her family over the ages, were aligned with the witches who fought what threatened Márona for generations. Her family was responsible for making the spellbound immune to magic and enchantments. No one can harm them unless they weaken them first. A spellbound breaking an oath nulls their invincibility.

"None of the spellbound who were invited came." Galena voiced the fact with a clear measure of concern etched in her tone. It was hard for me to miss that she was foreshadowing there was trouble on the horizon. The peace we were enjoying would soon be breached. There was something brewing.

"There is nothing I can do about that tonight." I almost asked why she was telling me and not my mother, but then I remembered today was the switch. The problems of the realm were now mine to deal with. It was no longer my mother's burden. The coronation was still a few months away. But the aftermath of my father's recent passing and the mark of my sixteenth birthday changed everything.

"No, you're correct. You should enjoy yourself," Galena replied with a sigh. She didn't sound content. "Forgive me, your Highness. Have fun. Do whatever pleases you." She bowed. Then, as she rose, she continued. "Whatever you do, take a guard with you. I saw something overshadowing you. I couldn't make out what it was."

The bright lights of the room and the dim lighting of the garden made slipping away far too easy. "Maybe you saw me walking in the dark. Go have fun, Galena. Be off duty for once." I slipped out of view of the guards that were my shadows, despite the recommendation made by Galena.

Once I stepped outside, I breathed deeply in the fresh air. Inhaling the cool breeze and tasting the salty sea salt from the ocean. All thoughts of the upcoming events faded from my mind as I wandered the gardens of Márona. In addition to the sea, the night air smelled of honeysuckle and patchouli. It was the fragrance of freshly placed wards. I wound through the gardenscape and found myself back to where I always went, at the threshold of the library. It was the one place I could go, and for a good while, no one would find me.

When I arrived, I found the doors ajar. Amber light poured from the slit beneath and between the doors. From within, an aromatic scent of honeysuckle and patchouli rolled out to greet me.

• ──── •✧• ──── •✧• ──── •✧• ──── •

Dear Reader,

Thanks for reading the first chapter of Heirs and Traitors!

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<3 Effie