The Death-Chosen Daughter Chapter 02
Author: Bagel
Every word reached my ears with perfect clarity. A cold, mocking laugh escaped my cracked lips.
So the “eternity” he had whispered in my ear was nothing more than a sweet lie meant to make me surrender everything.
“Sister.” Nyssa had spotted me.
She stepped gracefully from the swing, her fingers clutching Caelum’s as she walked toward me.
Caelum’s gaze fell upon the blood seeping from my collarbones, staining my dress. A flash of shock crossed his eyes.
“What happened to you?”
“It’s the new moon tonight,” I said, my eyes dropping to where their fingers were interlaced.
I didn’t need to elaborate. Caelum knew better than anyone that on every new moon, I was pierced with cold iron for Nyssa’s sake.
He paused, his voice lowering. “Let me walk you back.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Nyssa let out a pained gasp, her body slumping.
“Nyssa?” Caelum immediately turned, one hand catching her by the waist, his voice tight with alarm. “Is it happening again?”
Nyssa clutched her heart, a few crystalline tears welling in her eyes.
“Sister’s magic is so potent, I think it seared my own magical pathways… It’s all right, Caelum. You should take her back first. I can make it on my own.”
As she finished, her knees buckled and she fell into Caelum’s arms.
Caelum didn’t hesitate for even a second.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he cut in, his tone commanding. “You are my future princess.”
“How could I possibly leave you alone?”
The next moment, he bent down, swept Nyssa into his arms, and strode away without a backward glance. The hem of his long robe brushed past, stirring the bloodstained dust at my feet.
He never looked at me again.
I stood frozen in the night wind, watching them disappear into the white mist at the end of the garden. My fingertips curled into my palms, the sharp sting a distant pain.
Dragging my broken body back to my chambers, I gritted my teeth and peeled the fabric of my dress from where it had stuck to my torn flesh. Each pull sent a wave of agony through the wounds in my collarbones, leaving me trembling.
My handmaiden, Faye, took the blood-soaked clothes from me, tears streaming down her face.
“My lady… how can the prince be so cruel to you?”
“Five years ago, you nearly died shielding him from a hunter’s iron arrow coated in poison! He swore under the World Tree that he would love you for all of eternity.”
“But now… he lavishes the Second Lady with affection while he stands by and watches you be tortured with cold iron!”
A bitter knot formed in my throat, choking me.
I remembered that night, five years ago. We had just snuck away from the coronation banquet in the elven capital.
A band of elf-hunters ambushed us from the deadwood forest. An iron arrow, dipped in a potent toxin, flew straight for Caelum’s heart.
Without a thought, I threw myself in front of him.
The cold iron arrowhead pierced my chest, the poison spreading through my veins.
As I collapsed onto the cold snow, my vision blurring, I could clearly see the abyssal gates of the Underworld beckoning to me.
My instincts as Death’s acolyte were screaming for me to embrace the darkness.
But just as the gates were about to close, I heard Caelum’s raw, desperate cry.
“Elowen! Don’t leave me!”
“Please, stay. I’ll repay you with my entire immortal life.”
Because of those words, I forcibly severed Death’s call.
I returned to this world of vibrant leaves and branches.
But the “eternity” this elven prince had promised me no longer belonged to me.
I suppressed the surging, dull ache and spoke calmly. “Perhaps for a high elf, ‘eternity’ is just a word to be spoken, not kept.”
Faye bit her lip, not daring to say more, and began to gently apply a poultice of crushed herbs to my wounds.
But the burns left by the cold iron were not so easily healed. The moment the herbs touched my flesh, I convulsed in pain, a cold sweat drenching the bed.
I don’t know how long passed before I, utterly exhausted, fell into a fractured dream.
I dreamed of the day I first met Caelum.
It was at the Spring Festival, hosted by the royal family in the Star-strewn Plaza.
As a Dark Elf, I was surrounded by radiant Light Elves, all of them staring as if I were some strange creature.
Then Caelum emerged from the center of the crowd.
The high elven prince, clad in a silver-white royal tunic, walked straight past the noble daughters of the Light Elves and stopped before me.
He leaned down, his voice low, as if meant only for me. “Elowen of House Vaelen. I have been waiting for you.”
With that one sentence, I was lost to him for five whole years.
Growing up in the shadow of my family’s favoritism for Nyssa, I had long grown used to being the invisible ghost of the estate.
That was the first time someone, among a thousand faces under the starlight, had called my name alone.
The next morning, the sharp sunlight woke me from my dream.
As I awoke, the warmth of the dream still lingered on my eyelashes, but my heart was hollow and aching.
“My lady, it’s time to go to the Lower District,” Faye said as she fastened the clasp of my cloak, carefully pulling the collar high to hide the black, iron-inflicted wounds on my collarbones.
On the morning after every new moon, my mother would send me to the lowest level of the World Tree, the commoners’ district. I was to use my healing magic to awaken the withered roots and accumulate blessings from the Tree God for Nyssa.
Her halo was being forged from my flesh and blood.
When I arrived in the filthy Lower District, fighting back a wave of dizziness, I was surprised to see Caelum standing beneath a massive, decaying root.
He wore a simple, well-tailored tunic of moon-white, his expression surprisingly gentle, so much like the Caelum I used to know.
He strode over the moment he saw me.
“Your wounds from last night… do they still hurt?”
He produced a small crystal vial from his sleeve. “This is a high-grade elven nectar, exclusive to the royal family. Drink it. It will ease your pain.”
I glanced at the vial, then raised a hand and pushed his away.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“You are Nyssa’s betrothed now, Your Highness. You and I should maintain our distance.”
Something I couldn’t read flickered in Caelum’s eyes, but in the end, he said nothing.
I didn’t look at him again.
Enduring the dull, gnawing pain in my collarbones that felt like iron teeth with every breath, I channeled weak pulses of healing magic into the rotten roots, saving the commoners afflicted by the miasma.
An old elf with a withered face shuffled over to me and pressed a small, crude charm made of bark into my hand.
“Kind lady… may I ask your name?”
“I will bow to the World Tree and pray for the gods to shower all their blessings upon you!”
It had been a long time since I had received a sincere blessing. I froze, and before I could speak, a cold voice answered from my side. “She is Lady Nyssa of House Vaelen.”
