Princess Selari

CHAPTER 1  There are children who are born beneath stars, beneath crowns, and those who are born beneath the ocean. On the night Selari came into the world, the sea refused to be still. The waters surrounding the Kingdom of Crysalia rose and fell beneath a moon so bright that the ocean appeared silver. Waves crashed against the ancient cliffs surrounding the royal palace, sending curtains of mist into the night sky. Inside the royal chambers of Crysalia, Queen Bellata Nympe Crysalia held her newborn daughter against her chest. The infant was quiet, unusually quiet. She did not cry, as newborn babies do. Instead, she opened her eyes and stared up at her mother, her eyes impossibly bright with intelligence and wonder, and for one fleeting moment, every candle in the chamber went out. Then the water outside the palace windows began to glow and Bellata stared at her daughter and whispered, "Selari." The name left her lips like a prayer, soft and reverent, across the chamber stood Raekan Sylas. He was not merely Selari's father. He was a High Official of the Church of Caelestra, a powerful Elf whose position placed him among those entrusted with protecting ancient knowledge and sacred magic, and yet, for perhaps the first time in his life, Raekan had no words. He looked at the child, then at the ocean and then back at his daughter. "You feel that?" he whispered, staring down at them in love and awe. Bellata looked down and smiled as Selari's tiny hand had curled around her mother's finger. "Feel what?" Raekan stepped closer to them, his family. "The magic." Bellata smiled faintly, and soft chuckles left her lips as she shook her head gently at her husband. "She is our daughter,” she paused, staring into Selari’s eyes. “Of course she has magic.” "No." His voice was quieter this time. "Not like this." Outside, thunder rolled across the sea, and beneath the palace, something ancient stirred. Neither parent knew what it meant. Not yet. They only knew that their daughter had arrived beneath a moon unlike any they had seen before, and that the ocean had welcomed her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Selari's childhood was not an ordinary one. She was born a princess, but she was not raised to believe that a crown made her better than anyone else. Queen Bellata made certain of that. From the moment Selari was old enough to understand words, her mother taught her that royalty was not a privilege to be flaunted, it was a responsibility. "You were born with more than most people will ever have," Bellata would tell her. Selari, usually sitting cross-legged on the palace floor with her hair tangled around her shoulders, would look up at her mother. "Because I'm a princess?" "Because you are Selari." Bellata would touch her daughter's forehead. "The crown is something you wear." Her fingers moved gently through Selari's pale sea blue hair. "Who you are is something you carry." Those words stayed with Selari. Her mother taught her the oceans, not simply how to swim in them but to listen to them as well. She learned the names of currents, which waters were safe and which should never be entered. She learned the songs of the oldest sirens. Selari's earliest memories were filled with water, the sound of waves against the palace cliffs, the scent of salt carried through open windows and the glow of sunlight beneath the surface of the sea. The songs of sirens echoing through the kingdom and her mother's voice. Bellata raised Selari with a deep reverence for the ocean; to Selari, her mother was not simply the Queen of Crysalia. She was the woman who knew the sea as though it were an old friend and Bellata taught her daughter to swim before she could properly read. By the time Selari was six, she could dive beneath the waves for several minutes without fear. She learned that every creature beneath the ocean had a place in its ecosystem, from the smallest pearl-bearing shellfish to the ancient leviathans that slept beneath the deepest trenches. By eight, she knew how to navigate the reefs surrounding the kingdom. By ten, she could recognize different sea creatures by their calls, and by twelve, she had begun learning the ancient songs of the sirens. She learned the old songs; songs that could calm a storm, songs that could call dolphins to the shore, and songs that could make an entire room fall silent. Bellata never taught her songs of control, only songs of connection. "The sea does not belong to us," she told her. "We belong to it,” and Selari remembered that. "The sea is alive," Bellata would tell her. Selari would sit beside her mother on the palace docks, feet dangling above the water. "Like us?" "Yes." "Does it think?" Bellata smiled. "Perhaps." "Does it have feelings?" "I believe it does." Selari would stare thoughtfully into the water, "Then we shouldn't make it angry." Bellata laughed. "No, little pearl. We shouldn't." Those lessons stayed with her. The sea was never merely an element. It was family. Where Bellata taught Selari to feel magic, Raekan taught her to understand it. He would sit with her in the enormous library of the Caelestran wing of the palace, surrounded by books older than entire kingdoms. Selari hated the lessons at first. As much as she loved knowledge, she also loved the wind in her hair and the waves caressing her light blue tendrils. She would swing her little legs beneath the chair and stare at the pages. "How much longer?" Raekan wouldn't look up or acknowledge her impatience; he would just say firmly, "Until you understand it." "But I don't like it." "That has never stopped knowledge from being important." Her father taught her something very different. He taught her discipline, history, magic, healing, language, politics, faith, and most importantly, control. "Power without control is not strength," Raekan told her one afternoon. Selari was eleven at the time. She sat across from him in the enormous library, surrounded by books that were taller than she was, "But what if someone has a lot of power?" "Then they have a greater responsibility to control it." Selari frowned. "What if they don't want to?" Raekan closed his book and looked down at her seriously, “Then eventually their power will control them.” She considered this. "That sounds scary." "It can be." He reached across the table and tapped the book in front of her, "Which is why you learn." Selari sighed dramatically, "Do I have to?" "Yes." "Even this?" "Especially this." She groaned and pouted. He would hide a smile. Raekan was strict, but he was never cruel and Selari knew something that outsiders often did not. Her father adored her, he simply expressed it differently than her mother. Bellata hugged, Raekan taught. Bellata sang, Raekan listened. Bellata encouraged Selari to explore, Raekan made sure she understood the consequences of what she found and, together, they gave her something neither could have given her alone. Balance.