Hey APK Family!

Merry Christmas to all of you, here is your Christmas present from me to you, to say thankyou for all of the times you waited so paitiently for my uploads this year (and all the years previous). Its up a little later than I expected to be posting it apologies, my Christmas Day ended up being a little buisier than I had predicted! I hope you guys enjoy the Chapter, I know you're probably getting a bit imaptient for Obsidian, but don't worry - he will be in the next Chapter for sure. I am not sure yet, whether or not the Chapter after this will be the last one, I think I will know when I write it :) I will let you guys know though, in the Authors note at the top.

Wishing you and all your families and friends, a wonderful Christmas.
Much Love,

Daisy xx

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Chapter 51 | Monarch

*

'Breathe, darling,
you have done it before,
and you can do it
a g a i n.'

-Unknown

*

CIRCE

Circe's final two days passed slowly and without consequence.

After he had brought her back to her room, Ambrose's parting words, meant to set her at ease – she was sure – only served to fuel her anxiety as she wondered what was occurring outside of her little bubble.

You do not need to worry, he had told her, I will not allow you to suffer the same fate as I.

Unfortunately, this only caused her to imagine that what was in store for her was indeed far worse than merely speaking before the masses.

When she had fallen asleep that night, it had been to dreams of Gisir Ilyrana, staring down at her as she had stood in the place of Ambrose, the Great Dragon's powerful and thunderous voice sweeping through her mind as he condemned her to serve under the throne forever.

She had not heard from Ambrose since that night, and it remained that way until the evening of her second day, when a knock at her door had her sitting up from where she was curled on an armchair, staring blankly at a wall, lost in thought.

"It's open," she called, her voice a little hoarse from misuse. She raised a hand to her throat, coughing to clear it.

The door opened, revealing the Water Sprite to her, his blue hair pulled into a braid over his left shoulder, his eyes a little listless. Although she could feel the fatigue radiating off of him from across the room, upon locating Circe in her chair, Ambrose offered her a small smile which she took to be a good thing.

"Ambrose," she made to get out of her chair, but he dismissed her advance, choosing instead to sink down into the chair opposite.

"What's been going on?" She asked worriedly, "I haven't heard from anyone."

He had closed his eyes and now he waved away her concerns with one hand. "You do not need to worry; it is under control."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that unfortunately, while you still need to follow through with your Public address, there will be no other consequences accompanying your abdication."

"You spoke with him?" Circe aske sharply.

"Yes."

"You should not have done that for me. I should have gone with you."

"There is no point in concerning yourself with it now." Ambrose looked as though he had more to say, but when he didn't continue, Circe spoke instead.

"You know, there is one thing that has been bothering me. Did my Mother know about this? Of the other consequence? Does she know about you?"

"No," Ambrose shook his head. "My origin is a secret known only by myself and one other. Perhaps the only reason you were able to discover the truth is because you have not been fed the cover story about the first Ruler, like everyone else has.

"To others, I am merely a Water Sprite, who has lived a long time. My age has always been ambiguous. I am forgotten as time passes, but at the same time, I am always remembered as being present. Such is the curse of immortality in a magical world." He smiled a little ruefully, "If I served a human throne, things might be a little different. Their lives are so short."

Circe nodded slowly, "I understand. But then, what is the 'cover story' that everyone else knows?"

For a moment, Ambrose remained reticent, and then he gave a quiet sigh. "I suppose I should have known you would have further questions."

Circe shrugged a little apologetically, "I'm sorry." She offered.

Ambrose sank further back into his chair, "It is fine," he said, "you should be informed, I suppose." He looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, and the sea scape that was painted there. "I guess it is easier to tell you the version that everyone believes, and then work to unravel the mistruths that are woven into it. Most of it is true after all," he smiled ruefully, "there are only a few white lies in the mix."

Circe nodded in understanding, bringing her knees up to her chest so that she could curl more comfortably into her chair. This was the distraction she needed. She listened eagerly.

"As you would have been told," Ambrose began, "the Ruler of the Water Kingdom has always been a female. According to the known history of the Water Kingdom, the first Ruler was female, and every child she and her descendants had borne afterwards was female also, a blessing, in the eyes of the people, and one that was substantial enough to create a legend.

"Sirens are, after all, the Queens of the ocean, Circe. And the world was once not as peaceful as it is now. The Siren, with her supreme skills of manipulation, deception, and fighting prowess, were once greatly feared amongst the magical races.

"When the Kingdoms were more divided than they are now, not even Elf, nor Air Sprite was exempt from a Siren's charm, should she so choose to use it. That the Queens of the Water Kingdom, consistently continued to produce female heirs, was seen as a divine blessing, a symbol of a Siren's power."

"But not all the Ruler's were Sirens," Circe pointed out, remembering the portraits etched into he stained glass, "some of them were Water Sprites."

Ambrose nodded, "Yes indeed, of which I was the first. And while it is common knowledge now, that the Royal lineage is mixed in with Royalty from the Water Sprite race, it is less well-known of the reason such a union came about. In fact, most people believe the fairy-tale that a Water Sprite fell in love with a Siren at first sight, and they dedicated themselves to each other eternally. The real story is a little less lovely."

"Aren't Water Sprite's born with a soul mate already pre-destined?" Circe asked in confusion, "I thought you-"

"They are," Ambrose said quietly, his eyes suddenly fixed on something far away, something Circe could not see, "they are created that way because of me."

Circe opened her mouth but was unsure of how to word her next question. There was a delicacy to the situation, and she decided simply to let him speak.

"For a Siren, a Water Sprite is the greatest conquest. To catch the affections of one who is already pre-destined to another – surely there is no greater triumph for a creature whose very existence is beauty in itself.

"However, the first union backfired on the Siren Queen at the time, despite my warning her against making such a choice. She gave birth to a daughter, and then, while she grew old, the Water Sprite did not. And eventually, haunted by her age and loss of beauty, while her lover remained youthful, she chose to end her own life."

Circe's eyes were wide, "And the Water Sprite?"

Ambrose smiled lightly, but his eyes were tight, "He remained to guide his daughter in her Rule for a time, and when she died and passed on, he disappeared back into the ocean, as all Water Sprites do when their time as come. A Water Sprite lifetime is roughly double that of a Siren's.

Circe felt a conflict of emotions, "what about the female Water Sprite? The one he would have been meant to be with?"

"Circe," Ambrose said gently, "we walk this Earth to find our soulmates. We were never meant to be born beside them. While it is true, that Water Sprites are created in pairs, and although these pairs complement each other to the point of perfection, they are not necessarily what you would term as 'soul-mates'. They are simply compatible opposites.

"But when a person is fed an idea from birth, few would choose to go against the grain. And why would someone choose to see out another, when they seem to have the perfect match already at their side?"

"So, the Water Sprite Monarchs in the stained glass ..." Circe asked falteringly.

"They are not full-blooded," Ambrose answered, "they merely retain some of the similar traits. The vibrant blue hair, the ability to manipulate the ocean into doing their bidding. The Water Sprite and Siren unions did not happen often throughout the Royal History, but it occurred often enough. Your Grandparents in fact, were the last Siren and Water Sprite pairing. And arguably the most powerful Monarchs to date. It is thanks to them I suspect that your affinity for water control is so defined, despite your Father's heritage."

"I understand," Circe said quietly, but there was a question in her mind that she could no longer hold back, "you said before about Water Sprites being 'created' in pairs," she said, "but what do you mean by 'created'?"

In fact, she had always wondered this. It seemed apparent, from the conversations she had had, that Water Sprites were not born, but 'created'. She remembered someone providing her with a vague explanation at some point, but she could not remember who.

"To answer you question, I must first tell you the origin of my birth," Ambrose gave a light smile, "in-fact, it is a story that may seem slightly familiar to you, Circe."

"What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.

Ambrose looked away from her, staring out the window at the far end of the room. "Like your cousin Prince Zalas, I was not born, I was created," azure eyes snapped back to focus on her face, "by a dragon."

For a moment Circe was speechless as the information sunk in. "Gisir Ilyrana?" She asked tentatively.

Ambrose held her gaze for a moment longer, before nodding slowly. "Yes. He is my creator. But I was not formed the way Prince Zalas was. I was sculpted from the very ocean in which my Father resides," Ambrose gave a sad smile, that to Circe seemed full of heart break, "he desired, I believe, to make a humanoid image of himself, a creature that would be able to blend in and live amongst the other races, as he himself could not. I was born, destined to sit upon the throne of the Kingdom he created for me to rule, and remain they're for eternity."

Circe hugged her legs closer to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she surveyed the person before her, entranced by the history he was retelling. It seemed to ridiculously impossible, yet it was truth. She suddenly felt as though all her small worries were insignificant, compared the centuries that Ambrose had navigated alone.

"So, then the other Water Sprites ..." Circe couldn't help but ask, for she was burning with curiosity.

"Are created by my Father," Ambrose confirmed, "yes. But it is more that they come into being, simply because of his presence. His excessive amounts of energy pour into the landscape that surrounds him, providing vibrancy and life. The ocean is already a living, conscious being that sustains and holds the lives of many within her watery grasp. My Father's magic simply created a physical manifestation of this consciousness. Water Sprites are formed in pairs, just as the ocean ebbs and flows with the tide. Where there is a push, there must always be a pull. It is the law of nature."

"You didn't come with a pair?" Circe asked quietly.

Ambrose shook his head. "Unlike the others, my Father created me on purpose. He did not intend for me to have a partner," his eyes tightened, "I am immortal. I should have been able to rule forever."

"He should have known that plan was impossible," Circe said softly, "the people would not accept one, eternal monarch."

"I agree," Ambrose, to Circe's surprise, let out a quiet chuckle, "it is where Dragons show their naivety I suppose. For all their wisdom, knowledge, and magic, they are rather clueless when it comes to understand the reasonings of creatures that are not their own kin. I do not know for how long Gisir Ilyrana has reigned upon the Earth – but to him, I suspect that Ruling a Kingdom for an eternity was a feat easily accomplishable in his eyes."

Circe breathed out a long, heavy sigh. Her mind was full of so much information – this past week, so much had been revealed to her, so many threads were tied together, forming connections that she never might have realised existed. But she wanted to know all of it, and she still had one more question.

"Your reason for abdicating ..." She asked cautiously, "can you tell me why?"

Ambrose shifted in his seat. His eyes remained on her face. "I am forbidden from speaking about the reasoning behind my abdication, as well as my connection to the current Monarchy," Circe thought he looked sad, "and even if I could, what is past is past. You only need to know that I would not change anything."

Circe nodded, her other questions drying up in her throat. There was something in his eyes just then, that told her this was an uncrossable line. And although she was curious, she was not that curious.

"When I spoke to my Father before our meeting now, he expressed that he desires for me to follow and advise you, after your abdication," Ambrose's azure eyes flashed as he tactfully changed the subject "if you allow it of course."

Circe leant forward suddenly, her attention easily persuaded "Does that mean he has released you from your duty to the throne?" She asked in excitement.

Ambrose shook his head. "No, I must return to serve when a new Ruler is born."

Circe leant back in disappointment, "I see ..." she mused, "but you will have some freedom for a while, correct?"

"Correct."

"Then I am fine with having your company," Circe agreed lightly, "if you are fine with accompanying my brother on his ship. I feel that your guidance would be of great value to him." She didn't mean to make negotiations with Ambrose, especially not after what he had done for her, but she did not think she could agree so readily to have him accompanying her closely as an advisor. That sort of lifestyle was exactly what she was attempting to escape from.

Fortunately, Ambrose seemed to understand her thoughts, and he agreed, before rising from his seat. Her eyes followed him as he stood.

"Is your thirst for knowledge momentarily satiated?" he asked gently.

She nodded, "Yes, and thank-you," she said sincerely, "for being honest with me."

Ambrose gave a slight bow towards her, "Think nothing of it."

"You are leaving?" She asked, a little wistfully. Although the conversation had been intense, the company had been a pleasant distraction. Now there would be nothing to do to keep her from her own thoughts.

"There is much that needs to be prepared for tomorrow to go smoothly. How are you feeling?"

Circe grimaced, "Nervous."

"Naturally," he said quietly, "I am sorry that I could not do more."

She shot him a small smile, "No, you have already done far more than I could have asked for. I told you, when you came to get me, that I was not going to shy away from this. Nothing has changed in that regard."

"Do you have your speech prepared?" He checked.

She sighed, nodding slowly, "I know what I am going to say."

"Then I will come for you, in the morning. The public address will be at noon." His hand rested on the doorknob and he hovered, half in and half out of the room, "Unless you wish for your Mother to come?"

Circe shook her head vehemently, "No, I want it to be you."

"And so, it shall be, if that is your wish," he said solemnly, "try and get some sleep." The door closed behind him with a gentle click and Circe exhaled heavily.

She didn't think she was going to be able to sleep at all.

*

She didn't think she would, yet somehow, in the early hours of the morning, sleep eventually did find her and when she woke, it was to see her clothes prepared and laid out on the dresser, steam curling into the room from the hot water that had been drawn in the bathroom beyond.

She yawned widely. Her sleep had not been restful – she had been plagued by strange dreams, the haunting eyes of Gisir Ilyrana following her into her dreamscape, never in the forefront, but always present, as though watching from above.

At some point too, she had dreamed of Obsidian. He had been standing a fair distance away from her, his golden eyes turned in her direction, but no matter how many times she had called his name, he had not responded. And when she had tried to go to him, she found that the floor beneath her feet had turned to stone and there were iron bars between them. She had tried to reach through them to grab him, but it was as though she was made of air and although he was looking in her direction, she realised that he couldn't really see her.

Thinking back over it now made her skin rise into goosebumps and she shivered involuntarily, rubbing her hands fiercely up and down her arms as she tried to dispel the seeds of doubt in her mind.

It didn't help of course, that Anthemin had yet to contact her again. She was tormented by the small amount they had spoken at the entrance to the Water Kingdom, and although Obsidian message had given her courage at the time, the reality of his location and the ominous way Anthemin had spoken about Zalas, hardly put her at ease.
And now she could hardly feel Anthemin at all – or rather, it was almost as though there as a locked door between them, and she had not been given the key.

Rising from the bed, Circe tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that had somehow overnight transformed into twisting snakes, their writhing bodies threatening to knot up her insides and squeeze the air from her lungs.

She had to believe that they would be fine.

She had to, or she feared that she would fall apart.

She bathed slowly, the hot water relaxing her nerves somewhat, although they returned in full force as she as she stepped out of the tub.

She dried and dressed herself quietly, moving to the vanity to tame her hair and put a little makeup on her face. The white powder hid the bags under her eyes but made her look devoid of all colour. She stared at her ashen appearance in the mirror and horribly, Tobias's face appeared in her mind, his colourless skin so dreadfully pale against the wet, black rock.

She came to in the next moment, and shaking herself from her morbid thoughts, and she hastily added a little rouge, pinching her cheeks until a rosy flush blossomed across her skin. Her hands trembled slightly, and she forced herself to swallow past the lump that had lodged itself in her throat. It was almost painful.

"Get yourself together Circe," she mumbled, adding khol to her eyes and lashes. It had been a long time since she had worn makeup, so long in fact, that when she finally chanced another quick glance in the mirror, she barely recognised herself.

It was a good thing, she supposed. If she could pretend that she was someone else, then what she was about to do became a little easier to stomach.

After she had