The Coronation

Supposedly, Heaven’s Lake boiled because the lake was systematically scorching away the sins of the world. Its waters moved strangely, rippling back and forth as bubbles rose sluggishly from the depths. Pockets of air rose like they were passing through tar, the lake sticking and clinging and warping its own surface in vain. Then, with each burst, thick and foul-smelling steam wafted unpleasantly into the air.

Ada was crouched at the edge of the lake, watching its surface with the skirts of her gaudy ceremonial dress pooled around her. Her arms were crossed over her legs and her head resting on her arms. She shifted, adjusting her stance to bring the scratchy starched fabric of her sleeve up over her nose. It didn’t help much. Her clothes were already soaked through with the humid stench of rot.

“Ada!” her mother snapped sharply from behind her, stepping down from the stone altar and into the sparse grass that grew at the edges of the mountain lake. “Get up. You’re going to soil that dress!”

It’s already saturated with sin fumes, Ada wanted to reply, but she held her tongue. Instead, she stood, turning and bowing her head. “Yes, mother.”

“Hmph,” her mother huffed. Then, she turned away, walking back onto the altar. “Come along, then. It’s almost time to start.”

The ‘altar’ was a little too simple for its title, in Ada’s opinion. It was only a stone platform with a gong mounted on it. A crumbling stone path lead from the platform to the lake, and a dirt path lead from the right side of the altar to the base of the mountain. Opposite the altar, on the other side of the lake, there was seating arranged for nobility that had come to watch the succession ceremony. Lords and Ladies who were local to the capital simply made a face at the lake’s pungent smell, but those from further away attempted to be subtle as they raised scarves or sleeves to their face to block the stench. A few had even gone so far as to blatantly wear cloth masks.

Ada watched them as she took her position to the left of the gong. Suddenly, she was pushed aside by her mother, who stood in her place with another indignant huff.

A ceremony officer chatting with the Chief of Ceremonies nearby took notice. He quickly stepped toward them, an apologetic smile plastered on his face. “Your majesty,” he said, “I’m afraid the proper order would be Princess Ada, then yourself. Tradition dictates those closest to the successor by blood should stand at their side, and the princess is—“

“—is not the one who gave birth to him!” Ada’s mother interrupted. “I am. Does that not make me equally as close, if not more so? I will stand here. I doubt the angels seriously care that much about bloodlines.”

Ada suppressed a grin of disbelief, and the ceremony officer’s smile became politely blank.

“I must insist, Your Majesty,” he said flatly. “Princess Ada will stand to the left of the gong, closest to Prince Arthur.”

“She will stand wherever I tell her to,” the queen insisted herself, “Which is to the left of me!”

Ada tuned them out, looking back out across the lake as they bickered. Did it speak to her own purity, somehow, that she was never able to adapt to the odor that roiled from Heaven’s Lake? Maybe it was her blasphemous thoughts that kept her from adjusting to the smell of sin. She had privately thought the moment the ceremony was announced that it was pointless. Everyone in the kingdom knew Arthur would be king, while likely only half of them even knew he had a sister. The queen loved her son like he was the savior of their land, and scorned her daughter like she would be its downfall. Ada had stopped being upset about it years ago. Still, sometimes she wondered what made her mother so proud of her firstborn son, and so abhorred by her daughter.

The ceremony officer gave up on convincing her mother to move, and instead decided to finish preparing for the ceremony itself. There was very little for him to do, though, other than sweep aside debris. Most of the ceremony would happen in the water.

According to tradition, Arthur would ring the gong, then walk into the lake’s shallows. An angel would rise from Heaven’s Lake and open its mouth, to bestow a gift on Arthur and legitimize his succession. It was a ritual performed by every reigning king or queen, to prove they were of the blessed bloodline. If they weren’t, well…

Ada glanced at the water apprehensively, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before deciding to instead look down the mountain path behind her.

Normally, a potential sovereign would hike alone up the mountain as part of his trial, but Ada and Arthur’s mother had…. diplomatically reinterpreted the scriptures to allow for a pair of attendants and some basic supplies. Arthur was making his trek with extra ease, but still apparently taking his sweet time getting up the mountain. Ada wished he’d hurry so they could get the succession over with, and she could get the acrid taste of decay out of her mouth.

Finally, her wish was fulfilled.

Arthur made a show of putting great effort into the last small stretch of his journey, waving for his attendants to stay just out of sight behind the hilltop. Then, as he approached the altar, he flashed a smile toward the nobles across the lake, waving for good measure in case they were unable to see the expression. He took his place to the right of the gong, and the ceremony began.

It started with a speech, given by the Chief of Ceremonies from a book that most definitely was made large for show. Ada didn’t pay his words much attention. She doubted any of the nobles across the lake could hear him clearly, nor could they see her face well enough to tell she was bored. The Chief’s final statements, however, drew her attention.

“…and so, one with blood of an angel, step forward and claim your birthright. Should you have stolen your honor from those who shall rule rightfully, let the jaws of heaven come down upon you and brand you as fraud.”

At that final assertion, Ada’s mother took a sharp, short breath in. Ada arched an eyebrow at her, but was unable to catch her eye. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous… right?

Right?

Arthur was handed the ceremonial mallet. It was too late for questions, anyway. Ada would have to ask later.

Her brother lifted the mallet into the air, then brought it down on the gong hard enough to make it rattle against the edges of its mount. Ada’s mother winced as the surface of the lake rippled with the force of the gong’s cry. In the ripple’s wake, the lake became eerily still, all of the bubbles ceasing to rise.

Ada pulled her gaze away from her anxious mother to watch the glass-smooth surface. Then… it appeared.

It rose from the water slowly, as if with great effort. The Angel was a pale thing, skin translucent white and smooth all across its body. As it emerged, the light hit at just the right angle, and Ada felt like she could almost see straight through it, to the organs and muscles working underneath. The Angel had a head like a person, but no hair. Instead, it had two large holes in its skull, with strange, dense feathers plastered back against its head where it rose from the water. Its eyes were dark and animal, without any whites or irises. Along their neck, strange, flexible spines jutted out from their flesh like a feathered frock collar.

Then, past its shoulders, all comparison to anything human ended entirely. The Angel’s center mass split into at least a dozen tentacles, if not more. They shifted constantly, rolling and churning the water. Their undersides were lined with hundreds, maybe thousands of sharp, needle-like teeth. Ada distantly thought they must have tough skin, to withstand scraping those teeth against themselves. Not that anyone would dare test it.

The Angel was horrifying, not of their world. But the most important part of it sat right in the middle of its central mass.

The mouth.

The Angel’s mouth opened vertically, putrid water pouring out around more rows and rows of those needle-sharp teeth. Inside, resting on the angel’s tongue, was a gleaming white crystal. It looked almost like quartz, gleaming softly and almost glowing in the angel’s shadow.

Ada’s mother shivered.

Arthur seemed a little uncertain, himself, looking at the angel. He glanced at their mother once, who nodded, then pulled a grin onto his face and stepped forward. He’d seem confident as he entered the water, if Ada didn’t know that his hands only twitched when he was nervous.

As Arthur entered the lake, the Angel’s tentacles twitched toward him. He reached for the creature, and the holes in the top of its head contracted, the strange collar rattling and hissing somehow. There was nothing in the scripture about that, but Ada didn’t dare say something and disrupt the ceremony.

Her brother reached into the creature’s mouth, and Ada was suddenly aware of her mother holding her breath beside her. The angel’s maw flexed…

…then snapped shut with a sharp, wet smack, closing around Arthur’s arm.

Arthur screamed.