?nnywella drags herself to her feet; her long, wet hair weighs heavy on her head, pulling her posture straight; she hears more splashing from behind her as ?ppolonia and Gelshk walk up, placing the new coronation cloak around her neck and shoulders.

  The cloak had been tailored specifically to ?nnywella's small frame, so it fits her perfectly. The deep crimson of the velvet glistens in the light, a striking contrast to the simple white woolen interior fabric.

  Her hands shake as she grabs the gold embroidered edges of the cloak, briefly feeling the familiar motif of oak leaves beneath her fingers before pulling it shut around her, fastening the top four of the black oak toggles through their respective loops. The wool on the inside is warmer than usual; she quietly says thank you to the priestesses—they must have heated the cloak beforehand.

  “Pure of body, pure of blood! Folk of Ianya, the vessel of your will now stands before you!" Eue-Lysae shouts, her voice echoing off the tall stone walls. "Nameless vessel, do you offer your blood to your people, to tradition, to our ancestors, to our children?”

  “I do.” ?nnywella responds in a voice as loud as she can manage.

  Eue-Lysae thrusts her arms into the air above her head. “The ancestors demand proof of your word.”

  The towering iron-bound black wood doors of the Great Hall slowly begin to move. The two large iron chains attached to the top of the doors go taut as pairs of Watchmen wind them back in around capstans, the ground shaking with each link as it falls into place around the coil. With the groaning creak of the giant iron hinges, mid-morning sunlight begins to stream in.

  Once the doors are open to a sufficient degree, six priestesses enter the great hall. On their shoulders they bear the palls of the large wooden reliquary containing a replica of Kaladrae. Autumn leaves flow in around them, carried by a cool breeze.

  The robes of these priestesses (?nnekye Els Luasaen, Av?la L?nyl T?mbwyr, Enngel Gele H?glyder, Eved Arg?n Fiskere, Gilg Elspeth Hyrd?, and Metze Ermel W?gnwyr) are different from the simple white robes of Faey and Elena and still more ornate than the Gown of Our Pale Lady worn by Eue-Lysae. Each wears a wide, open-fronted mantle in a deep blue woven with silver astrological motifs. It drapes down over a muted blue button-up blouse with embroidery along the placket and chest, which is tucked into a darker blue, yet simpler, long skirt. A black, silver-buckled belt holds the skirts in place just above the hips, with a sheath hanging from the right side—each sheath houses a Hand of the Three Sisters [1]. Aside from the daggers, they wear no accessories.

  The priestesses make their way to the center altar, a large slab of polished marble that sits in the center of the ground floor. They kneel down, as they have rehearsed many times before, and gently rest the reliquary down on the clean and pressed white cloth.

  “Kneel before the pride of the caldera, the blade of the Consort of the Third Moon [2]—kneel before Kaladrae!” Eue-Lysae’s voice echoes for a brief moment throughout the hall before being drowned out by the shifting clothes of the people present as they all kneel. “Nameless vessel, I summon you before Kaladrae.”

  ?nnywella quickly makes her way down to the ground floor and to the head of the altar. Placing her hands on the frame of the two-part, hinged glass lid, she pauses to admire the engraving of the greatsword. If this is just a replica, she shakes her head; the grandeur of the real Kaladrae [3] is ineffable, even in one's imagination.

  Eue-Lysae looks down on Gekaryna from the balcony. “Once again I ask: do you wish to bleed for Kaladrae and allow it to deem if your blood is worthy to fill the role once promised to the great man who once wielded it?”

  “I do. I for the strength of my blood to be judged by Kaladrae.” ?nnywella is enchanted by the blade.

  “All may rise!”

  The crowd stands; the priestesses soon follow, avoiding hitting their shoulders on the pall. In unison, two move to the top next to ?nnywella, two stay at the left and right sides, and two move to the bottom. Each takes the nearest brass handle.

  ?nnywella pulls her hands back from the lid; the priestesses open it, gently resting the lid on the golden palls, and they all return to their original positions at its flanks.

  The engraved blade glistens in the light of the sun flowing in through the stained windows and the opened doors. The black velvet upholstered interior of the reliquary warps beneath the weight of the blade. The pommel is slightly elevated, allowing for blood to flow freely through the engravings down to the point.

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  ?nnywella forms a cup with her hands, allowing for a small hole in the bottom. She lines her hands directly above the channel going from the pommel down the center of the blade to the three full moons near the point. Moving her forearms as close together as she can, she rotates her wrists up.

  The priestesses draw the Hands of the Three Sisters from their sheaths. The blades glow a faint moonlight blue, and the patterns in the steel warp and twist. Unlike the replica of Caladrea, this is no illusion—true Ianyan steel [4].

  ?nnywella stares at the six blades; the patterns in the steel flow freely into the figures of women dancing, shawls flowing behind them. The three women are split along the spine of each pair of daggers, but their movements transition flawlessly between the separated blades.

  The priestesses line the blades of the daggers perpendicular to the veins, tilting them slightly inwards—they slit ?nnywella’s wrists in unison. They pause, completely still at the end of the motion, waiting for the blood to flow, before whipping the daggers down and sliding them back inside their sheaths.

  ?nnywella does not wince, for she feels no pain; the daggers carve through her pale skin as if flesh were but air. Warm blood runs down her arms into her cupped hands, dripping from the hole at the bottom into the shallow channel of the pommel. Slowly flowing, filling in the engraving of the blade. The recessed facade of the Temple of the Second Moon [5] turns red as her blood fills the channel.

  A gasp is heard from among the nobles as a woman faints, then another. Noblemen whisper quietly amongst themselves, most hoping she will not pass out from the blood loss, others placing bets on her failure, and a few discussing who will take her place as heir apparent if she does.

  ?nnywella shows no reaction to the blood, for she knows that there is no real danger to her; despite the belief of the public, this is simply to show that the heir apparent is willing to bleed for their people.

  Her blood runs quickly down the inclined blade, filling the engravings of the facade before reaching and filling the three moons at the top, slightly spilling over.

  The quiet clinking of coins can be heard between betting men.

  Two of the priestesses take out clothes, and one begins to dress the cuts on her wrists while the other begins to wipe down the blade.

  ?nnywella turns to face Gyrshke.

  “She bleeds willingly for the people; she bleeds willingly for your ancestors. She is unperturbed to offer her blood to the people.” Eue-Lysae says, addressing the crowd.

  Switching sides, the priestess closes the reliquary and raises it by the palls, carrying it back outside to the Temple of Wylh?lm’s Vow.

  “What is a queen without her scepter, her orb, her crown? Aela’Luhnylla, I call upon you; we, the people, call upon you: please, crown our new monarch.”

  ?nnywella watches as faint strands of light begin to coagulate before her. Luhnylla manifests herself before ?nnywella.

  The goddess is a tall woman. Her motherly figure is clad in a simple white robe with a pearlescent blue hue. Her hair is blacker than a starless sky and sits unmoving down her back. With a smile, she waves to the people in attendance.

  Faey and Elena move down the stairs from the top landing, one with a crown and one with a scepter and crystal orb.

  “Thank you, my daughter.” Luhnylla says to Gelshk, who hands her the scepter and orb.

  ?nnywella descends to a knee before the goddess, placing her bandaged arms before her.

  “With this scepter, I grant thee temporal reign over my kingdom.” Luhnylla gently places the scepter in ?nnywella’s right hand; the silver finial that sits upon the wooden shaft shines in the sunlight coming through the door.

  “With this orb I grant thee authority to act on behalf of my spirit." Luhnylla gently places the moonstone orb in ?nnywella’s left hand; inside the crystal memories of the future swirl, but none are clear enough to make out.

  ?ppolonia hands Luhnylla the crown. “Thank you as well, my daughter."

  “With this crown, I deem you the vessel that will carry the will and voice of my people. I bestow upon you a new name: ?nnywella Gekaryna vela’Herst IV. Do you, ?nnywella Gekaryna vela’Herst IV, accept this blessing?”

  "Yes, I do."

  Luhnylla places the crown on Gekaryna’s head; the silver band and arch are set with sapphires and moonstone, the cap is made of the finest black velvet, and the ball in the center is crystal accurately engraved with the visage of Luhnylla’s Great Moon. The crown contrasts strongly with her wet auburn hair and red velvet robe.

  “Behold, ?nnywella Gekaryna vela’Herst IV, the new queen of The Kingdom of the Great Moon of Our Lady, the new vessel of your will. You are dismissed; the speech will proceed as planned at 15:00.” The crowd slowly files out through the main door with Eue-Lysae’s words; congestion forms as people try to get the best view of the new queen and the goddess.

  Footnotes

  [1] The Hands of the Three Sisters are three pairs of ceremonial daggers forged from Ianyan steel along with Kaladrae in 4478 EotTS by L?dwikh Berwelt (b. 12/12/4445 EotTS, d. 28/01/4480 EotTS).

  [2] Wylh?lm Herst (b. 26/09/4967 EotTS, d. 02/10/4999 EotTS or 26/08/0000 EotG)

  [3] One of the 7 Swords. Crafted from Ianya Steel in 4478 EotTS by L?dwikh Berwelt(b. 12/12/4445 EotTS, d. 28/01/4480 EotTS). It was originally used for ceremonial purposes but was given to Wylh?lm Herst on specific request by Ensitz. It has been missing since Wylh?lm’s presumed death in 4999 EotTS.

  [4] An extremely rare metal found exclusively at the bottom of the Crown Caldera. It is known for its sharpness and stainless qualities, as well as the ability of the patterns in the metal to appear to be living.

  [5] The largest temple in Ianya, located inside the Ianyan Alps. Construction originally started in 4272EotTS but has never officially finished, as it is always being expanded, changed, and redesigned. As of 1040 EotG Dankmar W?rt (b. 06/11/1003EotG) is the head architect.