Chapter Text
Yes, of course, she specifically asked to attend this party and was excited and grateful to be here, honest to God. But it still sucked.
Princess Kristen of Highcourt sat in her tall chair and ruminated on her circumstances. When she had heard of the invitation from Fallinel to visit and discuss the matters of improving relations between their nations, she all but begged to go. And why wouldn’t she? After many years of living in Sunpeak and never leaving, she finally had the chance to see an entirely different country, worshiping a different Goddess, and made up of someone other than humans, no less! She wouldn’t have forgiven herself for missing this. So, just barely managing to convince her parents, she and her trusty jester headed out for Stellemere.
But as it turns out, high elves were just as unwilling to give a straight answer as anyone back home. Their conversations were intricate, pruned hedgemazes that were to be navigated with grace, but Kristen had all the grace of a just-woken owlbear and about as much subtlety. So it was hard not to feel like a prisoner at this cursed dinner party.
The hall was spacious and airy, painted in blue tones. Tall lancet windows filtered the light of the setting sun. Sparkling chandeliers hung so high up that they probably needed a Fly spell to clean. Servants, both regular and Unseen, darted around with trays. Kristen sat at a truly giant table covered with a tablecloth so smooth it put her clothes to shame. On the other end of the table she could just faintly hear cheers and laughter, but alas, she was stuck at the Important People corner, where fun was considered bad manners.
“But, you see, we have to acknowledge the problems that may arise in the process. There is the matter of the recent events in Sylvaire —”
In what world is the destruction of Sylvaire recent? In the elven one, probably, Kristen thought.
“— and, the wolves, of course,” the elven advisor said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “You have a wolf problem?” Kristen asked. “Highcourt is proud of its ranger force. Perhaps we could send a unit to help?”
“Thank you, dear Princess, but this is not the kind of wolves rangers can help with.”
“Oh? Why not? Are you not talking about actual wolves?”
“No-no, they are wolves indeed.”
And there it was again. Kristen could feel her eye begin to twitch.
“So, are they too dangerous? Or maybe too important for the harmony of nature or something?” she said.
“Hah! They wish they were important.”
Kristen considered stabbing him with cutlery.
“This won’t get you anywhere. Believe me, I’ve tried,” an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear.
She looked over her shoulder, but saw no one. So it was a Message, then. She relaxed a little.
“Who am I talking to?”
“I’m across the table, slightly to the left.”
Kristen turned her head around and saw an elegant elven lady staring at her. She looked like any other elf: silken robes, neatly braided hair, eternally youthful appearance. She did have remarkable eyes — bright-blue and piercing. Her gaze made Kristen feel exposed somehow.
She was clearly important, sitting so close to the Princess. Oh, why didn’t Kristen pay attention to her tutor when he was teaching Fallinese etiquette? The lady was in a tall ornate chair, her robes were embroidered with stars and… Huh. Little eyes. Creepy.
Wait, no. It couldn’t be.
“Are you the Oracle?”
“I am.”
Dear Helio. Kristen’s pulse quickened.
“Could you tell me more about these wolves?”
“Yes. Meet me in the nook behind the second column to the right of the door.”
“Of course!” Kristen nodded. The Oracle nodded back and returned to her meal.
Kristen shuffled in her chair, itching to run.
“Excuse me, sir, would you happen to know what time it is?” she asked the boring prick.
“It’s an hour until sunset.”
“Oh, really? I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I have to leave now. I have to, uh, do my evening prayers.”
The elf raised an eyebrow. “I was sure that followers of Sol do their prayers at dusk.”
“That’s right! But as a chosen one of Helio, I have to pray for much longer than usual. It will be dusk by the time I’m done.”
“Alright then. Fare well, your Majesty.”
She bowed and stood up quickly, almost knocking over her chair. She weaved in between the servants, then hugged the wall until she reached the column. Sure enough, there was a little niche, hidden away from the hungry eyes. Kristen dove in.
The Oracle soon joined her.
“That was quick,” she said, with what Kristen wanted to believe was a hint of admiration.
Kristen twiddled her thumbs. “So, who are the wolves?”
“Wolfsong Revival. It’s a religious movement led by lycanthropes. They believe that, as the goddess of the Moon, Galicaea is also a goddess of werewolves. As such, they are trying to reshape the perception of her to make it less high elf–centered.”
“Whoa… I imagine the Court of Stars isn’t too happy about that?”
“It sure is not.”
“So what are they trying to achieve?”
“They preach radical acceptance of the self and others, and making peace with your identity instead of contorting it to society’s expectations,” she said, sounding rehearsed. “Couldn’t tell you much more, though. I’m not the best at explaining that, never been a religious type myself.”
“So, who could?” Kristen asked.
“A follower of the movement, probably.”
“Is there any way to find them? Do they have meetings?”
“They do. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea to share this…” The Oracle frowned.
“I promise not to tell anyone! Please?”
She sighed. “Alright. There’s a sacred grove, Lírilen, where they hold sermons.”
“And where is it?”
“Follow Apricity road until Lake Umbra, then turn right. There will be a pathway behind the inn. It’s about an hour long walk.”
“Thank you so much for everything!” Kristen whispered loudly, while backing away into the hall.
“Any time.” The Oracle waved her goodbye.
An hour… If she left now, she could make it today. She just needed to…
“Fig! Fig, come here!” Kristen waved at the jester girl, currently a wood elf.
Fig ran up immediately. “Yes, my lady?”
“I have to run. Will you please cover for me?”
“You got it! Where are you going though?”
“I promised not to tell.”
“Come on, not even me?” Fig made a pleading face.
Kristen pondered for all of three seconds. “I’m gonna go investigate a werewolf cult.”
“Oooh, sounds hot!”
“And I have to leave right now.”
“Of course, my lady. But please stay safe, or I’ll have to tear their heads off!” She wagged a finger at Kristen.
“I will. Thanks, Fig.”