Aelyta Aurelianus expects to be coronated only for the High Priestess to perform Aelyta's Rite of Divinity instead. After the Rite, in her fluster, an assassin takes the chance to finish his assignment. Her. The problem is that after he pierces her heart, her body rejects his dagger. Her skin heals over where the wound is supposed to be. Flustered and frantic now, she searches for answers. In her pursuit, she's battling for the right to take the Crownship but death is always following behind her like a shadow. Another attempt is made at her life and she is taken to a safe place. Outside Avelmore Castle, Aelyta learns about the true lives of the Elementals outside Ospheria. She learns the balance between the people and the weight of the crown; and the power of inner magic, poison.
Aelyta Aurelianus expects to be coronated only for the High Priestess to perform Aelyta's Rite of Divinity instead. After the Rite, in her fluster, an assassin takes the chance to finish his assignment. Her. The problem is that after he pierces her heart, her body rejects his dagger. Her skin heals over where the wound is supposed to be. Flustered and frantic now, she searches for answers. In her pursuit, she's battling for the right to take the Crownship but death is always following behind her like a shadow. Another attempt is made at her life and she is taken to a safe place. Outside Avelmore Castle, Aelyta learns about the true lives of the Elementals outside Ospheria. She learns the balance between the people and the weight of the crown; and the power of inner magic, poison.
"ONE IS NOT BORN A QUEEN. One must become queen. To become queen, she must be worthy." The voice of the High Priestess resounds through the throne room. The tradi‐ tionally ornate room glitters with the kaleidoscopic colors of Elemental folks from noble and common lineage.
The High Priestess presses the end of a white cotton string to the princess's forehead and wraps it around her head. With small golden scissors, she snips the string.
The High Priestess echoes, "This represents your worth of carrying the crown." The priestess pulls another end from the ball of string, places it to the princess's throat, and pulls the ball down to her navel, snipping the yarn. "This represents your worth of carrying the future." The priestess measures the string down each of the princess's arms. "The weight in which you shall carry the Elements of this Crownship." The priestess cuts the length of the string to each of the princess's legs. "The balance in which you must walk for the realm."
The High Priestess takes all the cut strings and braids them together. After securing the end of the braid, the High Priestess opens her hands towards the princess standing before her. The princess picks up the gold scis‐ sors and snips a winding wave of her dark hellebores hair. The cut petals flow like droplets onto the High Priestess's extended palm. The High Priestess paints the braided strings with the princess's hair petals.
She hands the princess an unlit candle with her free hand, and the princess blows against the barren wick. The wick ignites into a tall pillar of fire. The High Priestess takes an end of the braided strings and welcomes them to the flame. The braid sparks into flying stars. The stars fall down, combusting into flames as they crash into the bowl below.
The High Priestess nests the fiery braid into a large ancient bowl made of gold that is filled with clear water and representations of the realm. Star Jasmine flowers for the Floral Elementals, Funeral Bell mushrooms for the Fungal Elementals, and butterfly wings for the Insectal Elementals.
With a small wooden stick, she gongs the side of the golden bowl. Gong, gong. The flames devour the braided strings.
With each hit of the stick, the resonance thrums through the princess. At first, a ringing pulses in her ears. With each gong, the ringing overlaps with the last echo. Sending a wave from her head, down her spine, and circling back upward. The sensation runs back up her spine to the top of her head, as if ready for bearing the crown.
The fire snaps and spits into a fiery swirling cyclone reaching out from the ancient bowl. Sparks fly like falling stars fluttering at first. The closer the sparks reach the top gape of the fiery cyclone, the stars are pulled into the vortex.
Once the braided strings touch the water, the bowl bursts into a thunderous black flame, roaring high into the face of the High Priestess.
The priestess continues to gong the side of the bowl as the monstrous fire overcomes the rest of the braided strings until only a sliver of smoke leaves the bowl, sizzling whatever is left in the water.
Her golden silk cape flows into the air as the High Priestess lowers onto her knees, gesturing to the princess to do the same on the other side of the bowl. They both bow their heads, their foreheads touching the rim.
A glow forms with soft lines through the princess's veins. The High Priestess chants and the glow brightens into sharp lightning of gold across her skin. The priestess lifts her head and rises, taking the princess's hand, lifting her from the ground.
Still gripping the princess's hand, the High Priestess pulls her close and whispers, "You know as well as I that this is not the way of tradition, may you walk from this room with protection." Louder for the entire throne room she said, "On this day, the last day of the frost season, the Princess thaws from the dead of winter. She is not only at the rightful age to inherit the crown and throne, but her skin glows with her worth to take on the Crownship. On this last chilling day before the solar season begins, the Princess performs before you her Rite of Divinity. In the name of the Goddess Ko'nkiun and the Blessed Descendants, Princess Aelyta Aurelianus is now ready to be crowned Queen of Ospheria."
The princess faces the common folks sitting below the noble seats and bows her head. Her father's nostrils flare towards the dais. He leaps from his seat and gestures the Richards family and Ronanbrands for the dining hall before anyone notices. The Royal Advisers, ambassadors of the Crownship, so many guests, including her ladies-in- waiting. The nobles make their way for the dining hall. The common folk’s cheers and rejoices rebound through the throne room as Aelyta waves to them from the head of the large, long room.
Stepping towards the edge of the dais, lifting her chin so her voice carries over the cheers. Silencing the large room, Aelyta addresses the public:
"Thank you, Elementals of Ospheria. Thank you for your cheers and your pride. I am truly honored to be bestowed the worth of becoming your queen that I know my mother, the late Queen Jane, would have wanted to see. My role has been set forth before my forthcoming. I uphold the traditions of the many queens who have stood in this very place with bright eyes and bright visions for Ospheria. I stand here before you now, blessed by the elements to honor the Blessed Descendants of our past. I stand here before you now to honor all of us, and may I walk the line of Crownship in your honor. May thou be blessed by the Blessed Descendants. Queen Aelyta, first bloom of the season and first to winter, Beacon of thine Crown."
A funneled light fumes on, the spotlight glaring over Aelyta. Voices ring through the throne room, "Queen Aelyta, Beacon of thine Crown."
Aelyta descends from the dais. One step at a time, she walks down the throne room. The light burning through her. Her neck stiff, though her head barren.
Whispers resound beside her as she creeps past the rows of Elementals, "Blessed Queen." They bow their bodies.
Her eyes burn with the urge to look, to thank them, to acknowledge their presence. But one wrong move—Aely‐ ta's face burns at the thought. One wrong move will guar‐ antee her fate sealed the same as her mother's.
The Elementals cry out as they bow at her passing, "Blessed Queen." The urge ticks at her neck. Look, acknowledge them. Her head snaps to the side and she is greeted with the colorful rows of Elements.
"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you. I see you all, and I thank you." Blended descendants of long history, a relief relaxes her back. But the spotlight following her cuts off.
***
Darkness consumes the castle, as if before the sun dives over the horizon. Aelyta prefers specific parts of the castle far more than the dining hall. The high, vaulted ceilings covered in gilded paintings of the old descendants dance above them. Tonight, in particular, Aelyta despises the idea of celebration.
The Rite of Divinity caught her off guard, and her father, nor the Royal Advisors have given her an explana‐ tion as to why her coronation ceremony had changed. Rejoice is not something she feels. No, at this moment, Aelyta feels her Crownship is being undermined. She glances at her father with a proud smile on his face, clasping hands with his two favorite men.
A sneer almost slips onto her face before she notices Minister Nyup approaching. She gives a smile to the Fungal Minister from Elementropolis. He extends his hand and she gives a firm shake. "Beautiful ceremony," is all he had to say to her.
"Thank you, Minister." She watches as he awkwardly shuffles off.
Aelyta's stomach churns with an emptiness carving into her sides. She hadn't eaten all day. The idea of eating in front of all the noblemen, all the Elementals with power at their fingertips, causes her stomach to twist like a knife in her guts. She discerns one of them to be behind the change of events.
Gently shuffling through the crowd funneling into the door of the dining hall, she rounds the group and nearly slips through the door.
Kyanston Richard pulls her arm, stopping her. "Why aren't you seated yet? You're the Beacon tonight."
"I feel it my duty to let the kingdom come before the queen," she recites. Her eyes falling forward, neutral. She steadies her gaze towards Kyanston's right ear. Her eyes focusing on the darkness of the hall outside the doorway as he continues.
"If you choose me, you'll have more than all of Deneb's riches. You like the sciences. I will grant you all-access to what the Richards' have been brewing as long as you name me king."
"I hope you're playing fair, Kyanston." Cory Ronan‐ brand walks up to them. "We have to let our future queen decide who she shall choose to accompany her on her journey through the crownhood. I'd hate to find out you cheated your way to the position."
"Thank you, Cory, for that." Aelyta glances to the door. The High Priestess's golden cape flickers barely in sight behind the entrance of the door. "I must speak with someone before the dinner starts. Please begin without me." She quickly curtsies and jets for the High Priestess.
Aelyta ensures they are alone before leaning into the High Priestess. "Never in my twenty-six years have you ever mentioned caution until tonight. Would you care to explain yourself?"
The High Priestess smiles at her, lifting Aelyta's chin. "You look so much like your mother." The priestess tucks a piece of Aelyta's glittering dark hair behind her ear. "Do not let them confuse you with her. There is a darkness that envelopes your family. I have been by your mother's side for as long as she had been queen. I ask you to keep your wits about you." She scans around them, whispering harder, "A storm is brewing in preparation for your coronation, I believe you will take down towers with you." With knitted brows, Aelyta studies the woman's face. "When a storm rolls in, what do birds do?" the High Priestess asks the princess.
"They take shelter," Aelyta answers.
The High Priestess nods before ducking through the door to the dining hall, leaving Aelyta alone in the grand hall. She's left with more questions than answers. The room spins around her as she leans against the wall.
She hears the doors of the dining hall close with a bang. Now she's all alone in the hallway outside the large elabo‐ rate room filled with chatter and noise.
Looking up, the room isn't spinning anymore, she can escape to her chambers. Taking a few steps down the hall, the colors around her begin to spin again. This time, not because of a blurry case of the spins, but it's as if the shadows are snuffing out the lights against the walls.
Curious, she pauses in the middle of the hallway. The shadows leap from the walls and slither across the floor.
Aelyta tries to scream, but her voice is caught in her throat.
Shadows swarm her, erasing the light and colors of the hallway. Her breathing hitches as she blinks at nothing. She can't see a thing.
"Hello?" Her voice holds nothing back as she yells into the void.
A hand reaches out from the darkness. Aelyta steps back, but she bumps against a wall. A figure appears, silhouetted in the dark shadows. Their hands grab her throat, but he roars like thunder upon contact. She jumps at the static spark jumping from her skin to his hands.
Through the shadows, she sees him pull out a dagger. He aims it towards her, but she reaches out for his face first, sparking another electric shock between their skin. The weapon drops from his hand.
"Stop shocking me." He grinds his teeth.
He slams his fist beside her head, causing her to lean into the wall harder.
She struggles. "You're the one shocking me."
"Well, you're really bad at dying," he replies, leaning into the side of her head.
"You're really bad at being an assassin," she mutters under her breath.
He tries to grab her jaw but jumps at the static leaping between them. He moves to pick up the dagger, but as soon as he leans down, she kicks him, pushing him down the ground. He grabs her ankle as she attempts to flee.
When she falls to the ground, he climbs on top of her, pinning her as she twists. "What are you?" He pokes the skin of her back, zapping himself again, but this time he was prepared for it.
"The princess, you prick," she spits. "If you're really an assassin, why won't you just kill me already?"
"Why in such a hurry? You don't want to get know each other?" He struggles, jumping at every zap against his skin.
Careful not to touch her, he hurls her onto her back. She coughs at the impact. "You know, not all men enjoy foreplay." She attempts to twist free again.
"Lucky for you,” he leans into her once more, “that's my favorite part."
Aelyta's scoffs, but it's cut short when he wields the blade over her head. Screaming, she lifts her head and bites his shoulder. The static lightning bursts from their contact, strobing through the dark shadows. The shadowed figure cries out in pain as he twists himself free from her teeth. The dagger clinks onto the ground.
She yells for help, but he laughs at her. Gripping his shoulder where she bit him, he picks up the dagger with his free hand. "No one can hear you in my Shadow Realm."
"Who are you?" she mumbles through his hand.
"Your death." His voice rumbles like thunder as he plunges the blade into her heart. Electricity bursts from the blade. They're thrown back from the combustion. The dagger clinking to the ground in the distance between them.
Aelyta fumbles to her feet, grabbing the dagger. She lunges for the assassin. Another zap shocks the two of them. "You're supposed to be dead." He grinds his teeth.
He grabs the wrist holding the dagger and flips her around. His other hand around her neck. The touch is so electrifying, he can barely squeeze. The energy burns under his skin and he releases her.
"You can keep that as a souvenir." The shadows evaporate, revealing the dimly lit hallway. The lights flicker as if she'd never left.
The shadowed figure is nowhere to be seen, but the dagger is still in her hand. The dining hall doors are still closed. The sound of the dinner party still ongoing, echoing down the hallway.
Aelyta balances the dagger between both her hands. The chill inside the castle consumes her to the bones. "What just happened?" she whispers, not to interrupt the quiet around her.
She jumps at the sight of movement, but only the flicker of candlelight responds to her paranoia. The shadows taunt her.
She dares a glance down at her chest. Her bodice is ripped, but she's not bleeding.
Her breathing unsettles, hitching at every wave of movement. The firelight flickers, and she turns restless. Her legs move before her thoughts catch on. She runs for her chambers where Sir Jaycub Battonfield greets her with a newly minted knight beside him. Jaycub bows as she approaches. Steadying her breathing and hiding the dagger behind her, Aelyta gives him a warm greeting before pushing past the two of them.
"Your Majesty," he whispers as he rises from his bow.
"Jaycub," she scoffs. "I'm not queen yet,” Aelyta shakes her head,“no need to be formal." She pushes the door open and steps through. Her eyes scan for shadows, as if they are waiting for her behind the door. Her hand grips the handle of the dagger tighter.
"But Lyta." He grabs hold of her arm gently, pulling her closer to him. "I have to tell you something," he whispers harder, almost hissing.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me while I kick these shoes off," she says, slipping off one shoe at a time. Her eyes trained sternly on the task at hand, then back at the knights before her.
He gestures to the new knight awaiting to be acknowl‐ edged. She straightens herself. Tucking the dagger into her waist ribbon before clasping her hands in front of her and clears her throat. "Your name, please." Aelyta nods to the knight.
"Itzal Markwardt," he answers promptly. "I have been assigned as your personal guard beginning tonight. Don't mind my saying, but you look as ghastly as a spirit."
The debut novel from American, Michigan-based, author Theophany Juhn, Forsaken Flowers is a gripping fantasy read with plenty of high stakes action and colourful world building.
It tells the story of Aelyta Aurelianus, an Elemental who at her coronation ceremony is unexpectedly bestowed the Rite of Divinity by the High Priestess. This twist in tradition results in Aelyta having the right to become Queen of Ospheria over and above other figures who might have laid claim to the throne. With barely any time to react to the news, Aelyta finds herself that same evening at the hands of a would-be assassin, only to find her body rejecting the very dagger that is pierced through her chest, wound healing over instantaneously. In what should have been a day marked by the lore and tradition of her people, for Aelyta this day marks the start of even more dramatic events yet to come, involving love, loss, and a kingdom in peril. To defeat her foes, Aelyta must embrace the power of her inner magic, and the poison deep within.
Everything about Forsaken Flowers is pitched perfectly. From the beautiful cover design (and use of background design/imagery on each opening chapter page), through writing style and the flow of the story itself. It is hard to not become invested in Aelyta's plight, just as much as it is hard to not come away from each chapter entrenched in all the characters that surround her (both good and evil). Every element of the plot is fully developed and the world building is as strong as any other fantasy novel this reviewer has seen in other published novels. And, coming in at just over 300 pages, Forsaken Flowers is a nice length within the fantasy genre, making it a lot more accessible to readers who can feel daunted at the prospect of taking on a competing 500+ page behemoth.
An enjoyable read, through and through, Forsaken Flowers is most definitely a book for any fantasy-loving reader, as much as it is someone wanting to dip their toe in the genre. It is also the perfect title for anyone looking to support independent publishing and authorship. A prime example of when self-publishing works, it really works. 5 stars.
AEB Reviews