The speech was the same every year.
"Today, the Kingdom of Galowyn honors the lives that have been lost to the Wastes..."
Shifting in the obscenely ornate gown her mother had forced upon her, Adeline couldn't help but think this whole rite was a ridiculous way to honor the dead. She kept her face passive as she surveyed the sea of faces before her, wondering how many of the attendants in the opulent grand hall felt the same way she did about all this nonsense. If anyone did, they made a good show of hiding it. Adeline knew that everyone present - nobles and peasants alike - were keenly aware of the two looming presences seated on the other side of the dais. Adeline did not need to glance over to her right to know that Queen Gloriella and King Royce sat inhumanly still and silent in their massive and ornate thrones, the former wearing a carefully crafted and centuries-practiced smile, and the latter a mask of cold indifference. She knew that the Head Mage stood there as well, to the right of Queen Gloriella's throne, one manicured hand resting on her scepter as always. Blanching at the thought of her mother, Adeline straightened her back. She forced herself to focus on the fifty young fae warriors standing before her, just below the marble dais she stood upon.
"Today, you young guardians will begin your final test. Today, you will prove yourselves the way that all our brave warriors have before you," the insufferable Duke of Weven continued on from his place at the front and center of the dais. She could hear the smile in his voice, and it unsettled Adeline. As usual, the Duke seemed all too excited about the rite.
"Today, you will enter the Wastes."
Adeline decided this was a good time to tune out the Duke's nasally voice and pompous speech. She already knew the history, and after sitting through the ceremony every year for as long as she could remember, she had the speech memorized. She also knew that this year was different, but she would not let herself think about that. Fear rose like bile in her throat - she knew what awaited the young soldiers before her.
There was nothing but misery in the Wastes.
Life in that seemingly endless stretch of earth beyond the Barrier that guarded Galowyn was nasty, merciless, and short. The land had long since turned on its inhabitants; thousands of years ago, when the wars and bloodshed had been too much for them to witness, the Old Gods had abandoned the realm and allowed the magic of the earth to run unchecked. In some areas of the Wastes the earth dried out and cracked open, while in others brushwood, trees, and all manner of gnarled and powerfully invasive flora created nearly impenetrable forests. Rivers overflowed and flooded villages, leaving swamps full of the dead. The creatures that dared dwell there were the stuff of nightmares.
And they were about to send her brother out there.
Adeline blinked at the burning in her eyes, and shifted her attention to her brother. Raylan stood below the dais, in the first line of soldiers, dressed in his fighting leathers and armor. His semi-tangled mess of blonde hair was a stark contrast to the sleek green and black of his clothing and armor - the colors of the royal guard - and his blue eyes were distant. He looked so young to her then, despite his grim face and hulking figure, and Adeline found herself remembering the small, bookish boy she'd once known him to be. They'd both had so little time to be young, so little time to enjoy the vulnerability of naivety and optimism before being thrust into a world of politics and fate and violence. She wondered if Raylan resented it all the same way she did.
There was certainly no hint of that on his beautiful face now - no hint of anything beyond battle hardened determination. He always had been the stronger one, willing to do anything for his family and his kingdom, accepting their terrible lot in life with the same steely resignation he wore now. "Weak and petulant," Adeline heard her mother's voice in her head like an echo, "stupid, selfish girl." When Raylan's gaze found hers, his eyes softened almost imperceptibly. She offered a small smile in response, knowing it didn't reach her eyes, and took a deep breath to steady herself.
The Duke was just nearing the end of his long winded speech about the glories of dying as a true warrior, when a sudden movement in her peripheral caught Adeline's attention. She felt the prickling in her skin almost instantly. Her hand flew to the dagger at her hip, tucked neatly under the folds of her dress, and her gaze snapped to Calista as the Bond grew taught between them. The exquisite princess was fine, it seemed, perched on her delicate throne and looking at Adeline with the same bemused expression she always wore when she felt the surge of her magic. The sight eased the fire in Adeline's blood and had her loosening her grip on the dagger. She glanced around the palatial hall quickly, searching for the disturbance. The shadowy figure in the corner by the foot of the dais told her exactly who the unannounced presence was, and she relaxed, even as she cursed herself silently.
Adeline was embarrassed that she had not immediately detected Nikolai's arrival, and even more embarrassed that she did not yet have a better hold on her Bond with the princess. She knew that she was useless to Calista without the insight and connection the bond between them provided, but without mastery, it also served as a distraction and a hinderance to her. As Calista's Guardian, how was Adeline supposed to fulfill her duty when all of her instincts were being overridden by the drive to locate and protect the princess? It was an ancient and powerful thing, complex and inescapable, and a near constant drain on her magic. Adeline gritted her teeth as she waited for the nausea to come, and did her best to ignore the feeling of her mother's eyes boring holes in the side of her head.
After the Duke of Weven finished speaking, the King and Queen were expected to say a few words to the soldiers. Adeline stiffened as the two royals, tall and commanding, rose and walked to the front of the dais. Gloriella was a stunning sight to behold, dripping with gold and jewels in her emerald green gown. Not one to bare much skin, she wore a modest neckline, the tight bodice leading to a loose, deep emerald green silk skirt. You could just barely see the Queen's feet beneath the hem of the gown, and Adeline was not at all shocked to see that the Queen was barefoot.
"Earth fae," Adeline thought to herself, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes or laugh - or both. There were few Elemental Fae left, but Adeline knew enough from her tutoring sessions that earth fae were known to prefer little barrier between their feet and the ground. Adeline held back a laugh at the thought of the queen in her elegant gown, with embroidered sleeves of green and gold silk, standing before her entire court, barefoot. Her auburn hair was plaited into a crown around her head, revealing her pointed ears and the flawless skin of her neck. All eyes focused on Gloriella; everyone present knew that the queen was who they answered to. Her husband, King Royce, was powerful, but he was born of a much lesser royal bloodline than Gloriella. He had been a brave warrior once, during the ancient wars, and Gloriella was one of the last of a dying breed of Fae, and the heir to a bloodline blessed by the Old Gods themselves. Adeline wondered if he resented the way he stood in his wife's shadow, and if perhaps that was what drove the King to become such a bitter man.
"First, I thank every one of you for your dedication and sacrifice," Gloriella's clear, regal voice cut through the air. "I ask that you all do not fear. Have faith in your strength, in your training, in your brothers and sisters in arms, and most importantly, in the Gods. You go with the blessing of the Gods." Adeline noticed some solemn nods throughout the crowd at that, but she watched only her brother's face carefully. Raylan was impassive and unmoving.
"Whether you return dead or alive, you will return from the Wastes a hero, a warrior, and a defender of our sacred kingdom." The King's voice was commanding and tightly controlled, each word sharply enunciated. "You will prove yourselves worthy, or die in the attempt." His words landed hard on everyone's ears, and the throne room was dead silent for a moment. Adeline studied him for a moment, wondering if he truly believed his words would provide any comfort. She supposed the night black robes and cape he wore draped over his broad shouldered figure, and the sharp, menacing crown sat atop his fair head were befitting a man like him. The Queen and King retreated to their thrones, leaving solemn faces in the wake of their disquieting sentiments.
The Captain of the Royal Guard approached the dais and bowed, his eyes on Gloriella, awaiting permission to ascend the stairs and address his soldiers. The Queen merely nodded, and Captain Alistair took his place before his recruits. His speech was meant to inspire the soldiers, to deliver their orders, and lay down the basic rules. Alistair's voice was grave, his eyes solemn, as he began to address the soldiers. Adeline tuned this part out too - she already knew all too well the specifics of the rite; in just a few hours, after eating one last hearty meal and saying their goodbyes, the soldiers would set out from the capital city Variel to cross the Wastes and attempt to safely reach the Lonely City. If they succeeded, they would be accepted into the Royal Guard. If they failed, they would die. Adeline looked out at the fifty brave young faces before her, and knew that most of them would die.
She just hoped her brother would not be one of them.