Chapter Text
“Godwyn, wake up,” whispered Marika, tears in her eyes and a shake in her voice.
The eldest son of the Eternal Queen and the First Elden Lord stirred, and let himself float to the surface of his sleeping pool with a gentle flick of his tail fins. His long, golden hair drifted around him as his head broke the surface. He looked around wearily, gold eyes glowing gently in the dark room.
“Mother?” Godwyn swam to the edge of the pool, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What time is – “ He almost ducked under the water when he looked up, and saw a hulking shape that vaguely resembled his father, the Lord Godfrey. But no Grace glowed in its eyes. No…they were dull, lifeless orbs in its head.
“Father!” Godwyn cried out, and pushed off of the side of the pool, his tail thrashing as he swam to deeper waters. His glimmering, silver fins churned the water into a wild froth as he dipped below the surface and gathered momentum.
This could only be a dream. He had to wake up. Godwyn launched himself out of the water, and heaved himself halfway out of the pool. It is said that if you die in a dream, you wake up. Godwyn usually woke if he had a nightmare, and being out of the water too long was a particular fear of his. He would manage it eventually, but he was young, and his incantations were nowhere near strong enough to keep him alive.
Marika made a soft sound of distress, and climbed up to the edge of the pool. She placed a hand on his head, and Golden light filled Godwyn’s bedroom.
The Prince swallowed down a sob as his mother’s power showed him the truth. He was awake. His father was Tarnished.
“It’s all right, Godwyn,” his mother whispered. She settled beside the…beside his father on the steps, careless of her delicate nightdress. The pale silk drifted in the water as if she had a tail and fins, just like Godwyn. Her eyes glowed with the Grace of Gold.
Slowly, Godwyn shifted back into the pool. He held onto the stone edge, ready to push off at any moment. Then a low, mournful rumble sounded in his ear, and Serosh’s whiskers tickled his nose. The Great Lion settled beside the pool with a thud, and rested his head on the edge so that he could keep watch. Godwyn relaxed slightly. Serosh was here…no danger would befall any of them.
“I am sorry, my son,” Godfrey murmured, and Godwyn could finally speak.
“Father…” Godwyn whispered. “Your eyes…”
“Wyn!”
Godwyn jumped, and noticed the squirming bundle in his mother’s arms. He stared as his little brother waved at him, golden eyes alight with excitement. What was Morgott doing up this late? Godwyn winced as the mass of fluff that was Morgott’s tail thrashed excitedly, and was promptly tangled up in their mother’s nightgown.
Godwyn watched with growing unease as Marika’s face crumpled. She ducked her head, mumbled soothing nonsense, and bounced Morgott in her arms until he calmed down. She avoided Godwyn’s gaze, and deftly smoothed Morgott’s golden hair around the horns sprouting from the right side of his head.
He looked away, as if trying to avoid an oncoming blow, and saw Morgott’s twin, Mohg, perched on his father’s knee, his tiny raven-black wings fluttering bravely. Godwyn felt his breath catch painfully in his chest. Mohg looked as if he was about to launch himself into the air.
Would he ever see Mohg fly?
“Goliwyn! Fish fish tail tail!” Mohg burbled, and bounced on Godfrey’s knee excitedly, reaching out for Godwyn’s fins with his dark, stubby fingers. Godfrey hummed, and got a firmer grip on Mohg’s waist.
“Careful, young one,” he murmured, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “That is a long drop, and you cannot swim.”
“Ah can swim!” Mohg pouted. His father shook his head and scooped Mohg up, mindful of the horns sprouting from the crown of his head. They were thicker than Morgott’s, and curled up in sleek coils around his round face.
“Not on your own, you can’t…But we need to talk with your big brother, yes? Just as we said…”
Godwyn took a quick look out the window as his father diverted Mohg’s attention; it was still the dead of night. The twins should be in bed…they would never fall asleep at this rate…
“Mother?” Godwyn asked slowly. “What’s going on?”
“I will explain everything, Godwyn,” Marika said, once she had Morgott settled in her lap, his tail wrapped around him like a kitten’s. She reached out to cup Godwyn’s face in her hands. “But…There is no time tonight.”
“Mother…Why are you crying?” he asked, a heavy, cold feeling swelling inside him.
“I have come to say goodbye, my son,” his father rumbled, and Godwyn’s world fell to pieces around him.
Godwyn’s father, Godfrey, Elden Lord, consort to Queen Marika the Eternal, was a Lord no longer. He was Hoarah Loux, Chieftain of the Badlands, once again. He, and every member of his tribe, had been divested of their Grace. He could no longer stay in the Lands Between. And Godwyn could not follow.
“It is…a harsh land, my son,” Godfrey – no, Hoarah Loux – said, his deep voice gentle in a way that only his family heard. “A land of battle, and monsters. And very little water,” he continued, with a look at his son’s sleeping pool. Godwyn started to shake.
“I…then why…Mother, why?”
Marika shook her head, and took Godwyn’s hand.
“I had no choice, Godwyn,” she said shakily. “But you will see them again, I promise you.”
Godwyn stared at her as the implications sunk in. He looked at his brothers, horror filling his soul.
“What about Morgott and Mohg?” he asked slowly.
The people of the Lands Between had never seen Godwyn’s brothers. Marika’s pregnancy had been met with universal joy, and then grief when rumors of a miscarriage spread. All had mourned.
So had Marika, Godfrey, and Godwyn, for the twins had been born crowned with horns, and bristling with patches of fur. They were Omen, anathema to the Golden Order.
The law was clear. That they were born of a Goddess mattered not. They would be locked away underground, their family’s dirty little secret, like Omen born to the nobility.
It made Godwyn nauseous to even think of it. Yet even that was more mercy than what most Omen received. Godwyn had seen the results; common Omen were shunned and mutilated, driven mad with the pain when their horns were cut off. Often they went feral from isolation and abuse.
Marika’s hands were tied the moment that Morgott and Mohg were born; the Goddess of the Golden Order could not defy it. But with Godfrey’s support, she had found ways to bend it. Morgott and Mohg were granted a brief respite, with the knowledge that, eventually, they would be sent to the Shunning Grounds. After all, they could barely walk. Surely the children of a Goddess could be allowed a measure of dignity?
Godfrey’s axe had likely done quite a bit of convincing. But if he had to leave…
This was far too soon. The twins had just begun to speak. Godwyn’s plans to visit — and eventually free — them were nowhere near ready. He still had to connect the pipes, and make sure that the water was deep enough, clean enough for him to breathe…
“They are coming with me,” said Hoarah Loux, with a grim smile.
And Godwyn realized why they had woken him. His father had to leave before the Order realized what he was planning. It was their only chance to spare his brothers.
“Oh,” he said, because it was the only sound that he could manage.
“You will see them again,” Marika said, her eyes sharper, more dangerous than Godwyn had ever seen before. “Your father will return.”
“Marika…” Hoarah Loux murmured. He took his wife’s hand, and clasped it tight in the manner of his people. Serosh growled low in his chest.
“You shall have Grace again,” she hissed. “You shall grow strong, and upon thy…thy…”
Godwyn tilted his head, horribly confused. Upon his what? Hoarah Loux was already the strongest man in the Lands Between.
“Can I hold Morgott?” he asked, because clearly his parents needed to be close. “And take Mohg for a swim?”
“Swim swim!” Mohg crowed, and reached out to his brother.
“Wyn?” Morgott chirped hopefully, his tail uncurling.
Marika handed over Morgott without a word, and helped Hoarah settle Mohg on Godwyn’s shoulder. Morgott clambered up to tug on Godwyn’s hair. Mohg promptly jumped off, and actually managed to tread water for a few moments. Mohg’s weight was concentrated in his upper body, thanks to the extra back and shoulder muscles needed to support his developing wings, making it difficult for him to float. Morgott, on the other hand, had his tail to balance him out — and much smaller wings, Godwyn doubted they would ever support his weight — and thus had taken to the water nearly as quickly as Godwyn.
It was quickly apparent that Mohg would not be left behind. Any water deeper than a puddle drew him like a magnet. After all, their father had told them that practice makes perfect.
But there wasn’t much water in the Badlands, was there?
Please, he prayed to whatever watched over the children of gods. Grant him this, at least.
Godwyn scooped up Mohg the moment he faltered, and then steadied his back, helping him stay afloat. Morgott watched avidly, and then joined his twin in the water. Godwyn grinned as Morgott paddled to Mohg’s other side and assessed the situation, his little nose scrunching up.
Mohg eyed his brother with blatant jealousy. Morgott gave a little huff, and stuck his face into the water. There was a burble, and the water was suddenly frothing with bubbles.
“Bubbles!” Mohg squeaked, his annoyance gone. He immediately mimicked his twin. Because he could blow bubbles too.
Godwyn’s heart leaped into his throat as he felt Mohg relax. Carefully, he lifted his hands away, and let Mohg’s instincts — and long practice — do the work.
Morgott noticed before Mohg did, and slapped his tail against the side of the pool in excitement. Mohg looked up, confused by the sudden waves, and realized that he was floating on his own.
“Goliwyn!” he squeaked, and waved at Godwyn, beaming with pride.
“Ohg!” Morgott cried, and splashed his twin with a gleeful grin. Mohg chortled, and fluttered his wings rapidly, spraying water everywhere. Morgott squawked, and whipped his tail over the surface, thoroughly drenching Mohg, Marika, and Hoarah Loux.
A surprised laugh burst out of their father’s chest.
“Well done Mohgwyn,” he rumbled.
Mohg beamed, and paddled over to his father. He grinned toothily and tugged at Hoarah Loux’s foot.
“Wife,” gasped Hoarah Loux, Warrior. A look of utter terror crossed his face. “A mighty warrior hath me in his grasp!”
Serosh bumped Godwyn’s shoulder with his snout. He rumbled with amusement. Morgott watched with wide eyes, not sure if he should splash Mohg again, or help him with the attack. Marika’s eyes widened comically.
“Spare thy father, oh warrior! I beg thee!” she cried, and slid over to cling to her husband’s broad shoulders.
Mohg dissolved into giggles, and most definitely did not spare his Warrior father. He latched onto Hoarah Loux’s foot and pulled harder.
Godwyn yelped as Hoarah Loux tumbled into the water with a mighty splash .
“Father!” he shouted, as almost half of his sleeping pool sloshed over the edge and covered the floor.
Morgott and Mohg pounced. Mohg latched onto their father’s leg like a limpet, while Morgott clambered onto his back. Godwyn stared, laughter threatening to erupt from his chest as Hoarah Loux wrapped one huge hand around Marika’s calf, and pulled her into the pool. Serosh huffed and shot a look at Godwyn.
Godwyn patted the Lion’s snout, and pushed off the wall to join the battle, joy and grief at war inside him. He scooped Morgott up, and held him tight.
“I love you, brother,”
he whispered, and then sat Morgott up on his shoulders. A little Prince needed a mighty water steed, after all. Moments later, he captured Mohg while his father ‘saved’ his mother, wiped away her tears, and held her close. Godwyn scratched at the little spot between Mohg’s wings that so annoyed the tiny Omen.
“I love you too,”
he said.
“I’ll be waiting.”