Ruins And Royalty

The Goddess of Creativity and Song - Chp 5 Part 3

“Princess Hyathene Wren of Palisade,” the servant announced before bowing and exiting the room. I stared at the veiled figure before me, perplexed, waiting for her to explain why she had summoned me.

“My Prince, I request your assistance with… important matters,” she finally said, her tone gentle and soft, almost hesitant. I had to strain to catch her words.

“What matters?” I asked sharply, irritation creeping into my voice.

She took a deep breath. “I am soon to be married to the eldest Prince of Safornia, once the Game of the Gods concludes, if he survives.” Her voice grew steadier, but urgency lingered in every word. “Our marriage is the only thing keeping our Kingdoms at peace. Should he fall, the alliance will collapse, and war between Palisade and Safornia will be inevitable.”

I frowned, my patience thinning. “Why are you telling me this? I have no stake in your Kingdom’s affairs, nor in the Safornian line.” My voice carried disbelief, even anger.

She lifted her chin slightly, meeting my gaze with an intensity that made me pause. “Because I have come to you with a proposition, one that will benefit us both.”

I sat up straighter in the chaise, curiosity piqued despite my lingering confusion. How could I possibly be of any use to her? And what could I possibly gain?

“I’m listening,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral, though my interest was unmistakable.

“The Prince has no desire to win the Game of the Gods. His sole aim is survival, as he is destined to inherit the throne of Safornia and maintain peace between our Kingdoms,” she explained carefully, leaning in as though our conversation should not be overheard. “There is, however, a way to guarantee his safety: an amulet of safekeeping, embedded in a tree deep within the Woodlands of Solovey, protected by rufous nightingales…”

At that moment, I was completely at a loss. Nothing she had said made any sense... I had never heard of this amulet before. But then again, it involved magic, so it wasn’t entirely surprising that I had no knowledge of it.

“You do know the tale of the Goddess Namalne and her songbirds?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes as I remained silent.

Fortunately, that was a story I did know. Everyone in Emperos grew up hearing it. It traced the origins of the Nightingale bloodline and the Kingdom itself, a tale woven into the foundation of our history.

Namalne was the Goddess of Creativity and Song: chestnut hair cascading in waves, autumn-brown eyes that seemed to hold the warmth of the sun, and skin kissed by sunlight. She wore an intricate winged crown of pure white feathers adorned with golden flowers. Known for her kindness and nurturing spirit, she spent her days among the people of Atlas, singing, painting, and dancing.

Long before empires rose and kingdoms were carved from the land, only small villages and simple farmlands dotted the countryside. Life was fragile, and raids from barbarian bands were frequent. They stole crops, slaughtered livestock, and set homes ablaze.

Those were harsh times, the harsh reality for most villages scattered across Pandora. From the heavens, Namalne watched over the people and felt a profound empathy for their suffering. One day, moved by their plight, she decided to intervene. Slipping quietly through a portal hidden in the woodlands near one of the villages, she descended among them to entertain with song and dance.

As the Goddess of Creativity and Song, Namalne possessed a voice so exquisite it brought joy and harmony to all who heard it. Her melodies lifted the spirits of the villagers, soothing the burdens of their daily struggles. To keep her presence hidden from the other celestial bodies, she cleverly masked her voice with the song of nightingales; whenever she sang, the birds echoed her notes, ensuring that no other deity could detect her intervention.

During one of these secret visits, she met a farmer working the potato fields. The man was captivated by her voice and her ethereal beauty. In admiration, he scattered wildflowers daily around the woodland portal, a silent offering to honor her presence. Flattered by his devotion, Namalne began venturing from Atlas more frequently, and in time, the two became lovers.

Her absences in the heavens did not go unnoticed. Eventually, a watchful deity followed her and revealed her secret to the other gods. Edria, the main Goddess of Atlas, decreed that Namalne could no longer enter the mortal realm and forbade her from seeing the farmer again, destroying the portal in the woodland.

The man, desperate to reunite with his beloved, devoted his life to building an empire, amassing power and resources to search for other portals leading to Atlas. Yet despite all his efforts, he never succeeded. He died in old age, never setting eyes on Namalne again, and his longing remained unfulfilled.

However, not everyone believed his efforts were in vain. He became the first ruler of Emperos, a name he chose for his kingdom as well as for his lineage, Nightingale, in honor of his devotion to the Goddess Namalne.

“Of course I know the story of my Kingdom and my family name,” I replied curtly.

“Yet you’ve never heard of the amulet?” she said, her tone edged with surprise.

No mention of any amulet had ever surfaced in the tales told by villagers or in the stories my parents shared when we were children.

I remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Just before Goddess Edria destroyed the portal in the Woodlands, Namalne appeared one final time to bestow an amulet upon her beloved,” Princess Hyathene continued, her voice passionate. “She said it was the only way he could be protected from Edria’s wrath. Into the amulet, she poured the last of her magic before disappearing, never to be seen again. The man lived to a ripe old age, and as he neared his deathbed, he entrusted the amulet to her nightingales in the Solovey Woodlands.”

I leaned back, prying my eyes away from her to look out at the horizon, where the day was slowly surrendering to twilight.

“And what does any of this have to do with me?” I asked, my tone calm but laced with unease and curiosity.

“The nightingales guard the amulet in the Woodlands of Solovey. Anyone may enter, but the moment someone tries to seize it, the birds strike without hesitation. They are creatures of a Goddess. Ever so powerful, surprisingly dangerous, and very relentless.”

I looked at her, already piecing together why she sought my help.

“The only one capable of retrieving it is a pure-blood Nightingale. Someone like you,” she concluded.

“And what’s in it for me?” I asked, unwilling to risk myself without some guarantee of gain.

“Information,” she replied calmly. I turned to her, intrigued, waiting for details. The intelligence had better be valuable for her to request something this perilous.

“I have precise and detailed knowledge about the Games of the Gods,” Princess Hyathene said, capturing my full attention.

“And how do I know you’re not just using me?” I asked, skeptical. If her information could truly give me an advantage in the Games, I would consider her proposal but only then.

“You have my word,” she said, her tone earnest. “That is all I can offer. I come to you out of desperation. This is the last hope to save the nations. I will accompany you to the Woodlands of Solovey for your reassurance.”

“Then why come to me instead of the King, the Queen, or even my eldest brother Dayron? He has far more experience,” I asked, curious. Dayron would have been the ideal choice for such a mission, yet she sought me specifically.

“I entrust you with this knowledge because if anyone else learned of it, they might exploit it,” she whispered. “Even after a Nightingale retrieves the amulet, conflict will erupt, and others will try to claim it. I prefer our discussion remain confined to these four walls. But I promise you this, I will return the amulet once the Games are over. It is not mine to keep.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what if you don’t? Or better yet... what if I decide to keep it for myself? The Nightingale name is my own, after all.”

For the first time, hesitation flickered across her figure, but she held her ground. “Because I can give you something greater. The knowledge I possess was entrusted to me in confidence by the Head of the Council himself. Secrets about the Games of the Gods, knowledge that will grant you a decisive advantage in the trials ahead. I offer it to you alone.”

Her words burned into me, setting my ambition alight. Advantage in the Games. An edge that could not be bought, begged, or stolen unless I took it now.

I leaned back, feigning casual indifference, though my pulse had quickened. “If what you say is true, then I’ll accept your offer. But understand this. If the information is worthless, you will not leave the Woodlands with the amulet in your hands.”

She nodded once, resolute.

I gave no more response, though my thoughts churned darkly. The Games consumed me, and I wanted victory more than anything. If she truly had knowledge from the Head of the Council, then yes, I would help her. But the amulet… that was my family’s legacy, and it was powerful enough to shift the balance of nations. If I could outwit her and claim both the knowledge and the amulet, I would not hesitate. After all, who better to wield it than a true Nightingale?