Cursebound: Plot: Zeke Altair's Ceremony

Zeke sat in his rooms, hands folded in his lap as servants brushed through his opalescent hair. He fidgeted slightly in his nervousness and anxiety, readjusting his shendyt over and over again and looking up at the ceiling, past his straight horn. Constellations painted the ceiling, his eyes landing on the Aquila constellation. Specifically, the star Altair. The star his soul had been born from eons ago. So many lifetimes between then and him now, and he didn’t even remember traces of any of those past incarnations. Only what Sirius had told him about them. 

Zeke nearly jumped out his skin when the deep voice of his brother got his attention. “Zeke Altair.”

Zeke stood up, shooing the humans and thoth away with a quiet thank you. “Brother. Is it time?”

Nolan Rigel wore his hair up, his own opalescent hair topped with a dark blue crown. He smiled. “Not quite. I wanted to speak with you before the ceremony.”

“About what?” Zeke asked as Nolan came over, linking his arm through his brother’s. 

“About the ceremony. I know you’re probably feeling nervous. Don’t be.”

“Does it hurt to take your equine form?” Zeke asked. He knew the answer, but he couldn’t help but ask it once again. 

“It hurts a little the first time, but it will feel as natural as breathing after that,” Nolan promised him, not minding the repeated question. “Then you will take your proper place in the court. On the Altair throne. We have been missing seeing that chair filled.”

“Twenty years isn’t a long time to you, though.” Zeke said. His brother was one of the older members of the court, only outranked by their Auntie and Mother. And of course Sirius. Those three all took a more nurturing and mentoring role in the court, though, allowing Nolan to be the current ruler of the court to deal with the politics and paperwork. 

“No, I guess not. But we still like having the court all filled,” Nolan sighed. “It was necessary for your previous incarnation to sacrifice himself for the good of the country and be reborn, but it feels unnatural for a seat to be empty. Especially when he was the King.” 

It was always strange to think that Zeke’s soul had been the last ruler before Nolan. Especially when he couldn’t remember any of it. He felt a little pressured by it. He was almost worried the others would be looking at him, trying to see the traits of Galgath the Honorable within him, even though he knew they wouldn’t. They all lived the same way he did. They all knew what it was like. 

“Do not feel any pressure, brother,” Nolan said, a warm smile on his face, sensing what Zeke was thinking. You have done this a hundred times and you  will do this a hundred times hence. Alright? Would you like to speak with Sirius before the ceremony? See if he has any advice for you?”

“No. I spoke with him last night. I just want to start the ceremony,” Zeke said, fidgeting with his shendyt again. 

“Then we should get you ready. Have you been ritually cleansed?”

Zeke nodded.

“Then let us robe you. Come, brother. And do not fear.”

……………………..

Zeke walked into the vaulted ceremony room. The twelve thrones stood in alternating intervals in two rows on a higher dias. There was another dias, lower down, in front of it. Usually people would stand there to entreat the royal Almagest family, but today stood Zeke’s auntie and a bowl on a beautifully carved stone pedestal, opals and moonstones shining in the low light coming in from the moonlight in the windows. 

Zeke felt the robes heavy on his shoulders, sweeping the ground behind him regally as he made his way to the dias, hands folded in front of him. 

His whole family was here, seated on their thrones, and a crowd of the country’s people stood watching, spilling out of the doors. The hall was quiet, filled only with the movements of his people and the soft murmurs between them. 

He came to stand in front of the empty bowl, facing his auntie on the other side. 

Jasmine Betelguese smiled softly at him, her tail swishing back and forth. 

“Zeke Altair,” she said, every voice silencing at her commanding tone. “For what have you come here for?”

“I seek to rejoin the family of the stars,” he replied, glad the robes hid the way his own tail was swishing back and forth excitedly. 

“As it should be. The cycle of life and death must be in balance, the thrones properly filled. We must first give unto you your equine form. Your tool for guiding and protecting the people of Hatheon, and even for the good of all Kahari. You must not misuse it, which is why fate and the stars will choose for you a worthy partner, to guide you and give you a tether. You must cherish them as they will cherish you, and they will keep you grounded as you are given the powers of the stars. Do you accept this?”

“I do.”

Jasmine nodded. “Then kneel, Zeke Altair. This we shall do before you are once again bonded to the family of stars.”

Zeke did so, careful to make sure his robes fell around him properly, as he had been taught, so he would be properly covered when he changed. 

Jasmine reached over the bowl, placing her hands flat on either side of his horn. She started a chanting song as the other members of the family left their thrones, kneeling and chanting the prayer as well, the crowd behind Zeke beginning to sing a returning version of the chant. Zeke felt something pull at his magic, and he let it channel through him, pulled through his horn and back in, like a heartbeat. He took a deep breath and began the returning call of the chant, letting his voice rise and fall through the songs and chants around him. He continued, despite the pain that took up residence in his bones, pulling and twisting. He only gave up when his voice gave out, his body changing and reshaping under the robes. He shifted and shuffled, the voices, pain, and magic mingling until they all stopped at once. 

He opened silver eyes, lifting his beautiful white head with a shining horn. He took a deep breath into huge lungs, his legs folded gracefully under him. His mane hang along his neck, his tail curled over the tiled patterns on the floor. 

Jasmine released his horn, speaking again. “The fates have plans in mind for this incarnation, as all incarnations before and after,” she said, lifting a jade jug and poured water into the marbled bowl. “Touch your horn to this blessed water, Altair. Your fated partner must be chosen.”

Zeke looked into the water for a moment, sparking slightly with micah, and dipped his horn into it. 

He closed his eyes, his aunt singing again, this time one lone voice as she called upon fate. Zeke waited, a calm rushing over him. 

He could hear something like whispers, like thousands of butterfly wings, like gravel thrown into a quiet river. 

Then he could see something. It was not the ceremony room. Or the water. It looked like a hole, mostly. In the ground or in a tree. It was filthy and uneven all across. There looked to be… carcasses? And webs? There were forms he could not quite see, and a feeling of uneasiness began to settle into his bones. 

He turned his gaze as though drawn to a shape laying a pile of old furs. He couldn’t make out much, but then the figure moved. It seemed to be changing as it did, a bald sore ridden head becoming smooth, pale hair poking out through its scalp. Zeke did not get a good look at its face before it had changed, but when he could see it, he saw what looked to be a child with strange mouthparts, elven in nature besides those and the extra eyes. Then it squirmed again, finding a more comfortable position and Zeke saw its body and legs. 

Was that a…. Jurogumo? Why had fate paired him with a cursed elven race? It didn’t make sense. Did fate want him to help find a cure-

Zeke screamed, throwing his head back, water arching from his horn. He fell on his side, transforming back under the robe as something happened. Hot pain lanced up and down his skin, it ached in his organs and flashed through his bones. 

He screamed again, writhing more violently as the pain shot down his spine and into his tail. 

When he finally got a hold of himself, panting and shivering, he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, telling him he would be alright. 

He already knew it wasn’t alright. Something was wrong. He’d never been this cold before. He could hear the worried crowd outside, could hear his family scrambling to evacuate everyone and stand as a barrier between him and them. 

Zeke heard his brother barking orders, heard the sound of the guards, felt them lift him, keeping him bundled in the robes, and he was helped out of the hall. 

He stumbled as they came to a stop outside the ceremony hall. He pulled the robes tighter around himself, shivering and trying to find his voice. His throat felt… it hurt to swallow. Why did it hurt? 

“What’s going on?” he asked in a rasp, but none of the guards answered him. He opened his eyes. His vision didn’t seem as clear. It also seemed… darker? No. His eyelashes were darker. His hair was… his hair was…..

Nolan came out of the ceremony room, stopping at staring at Zeke. 

“Nolan,” Zeke gasped. “What’s happening? What’s going on? Why is my hair brown? Can we fix it? I saw a Jurogumo and-”

Nolan’s eyes widened slightly, but he cut Zeke off as he said, “We will look into it.”

He leaned to the head guard, whispering something to him that Zeke could not hear.

The guards started taking Zeke down the hall before he could say anything more to Nolan as his brother went back into the ceremony hall. 

Zeke shivered looking down at his skin. It was no longer pale and silvery, it was a reddish tan color, like a human’s and there were bands of dark markings on his arms. He was so distracted by this he almost didn’t notice they were walking past his rooms. He tried to turn to go inside when he noticed, but one of the guards grabbed his arm, their tough gloves biting into his newly sensitive skin. 

“Wait,” Zeke asked in a trembling voice. “Wait! Where are we going!?”

The guards ignored him. 

“Halt! Now! Stop! I order you to-”

A guard grabbed his other arm, making him yelp in pain as he was dragged down the hall. He tried to use his magic, tried to speak the words, but he felt it fizzle out in his fingers and horn. All he could do was struggle as they took him down the stairs. 

Zeke hadn’t really been to the dungeons before. They were quiet and empty. They were mostly used for temporary holding. 

The guard opened the cell door and gently propelled Zeke in, closing and locking the door behind him. 

“Y-you can’t do this,” Zeke said, trying to sound demanding. “I need to speak with my brother!”

“He will speak with you when he is able,” the head guard said. “Rest until then.”

Zeke held on to the bars of the cell door as he watched the guards all leave again before slowly turning, reaching up to smooth over his messed up hair, only to freeze when he felt the shape of his horn. It was curved. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t process that right now so he turned his attention to his surroundings.

 The cell only had a small hole that led down to the cisterns, and a padded mat in the corner to sleep on. Nothing was dirty, but this place felt abandoned. 

Zeke felt abandoned. 

………………….

Zeke woke up to the sound of footsteps. 

He groaned softly. His back hurt. Why did his back hurt? Was it because the mat wasn’t comfortable?

He carefully pushed himself up, standing and holding his robes close to himself, still freezing. 

Nolan and Jasmine came into view, two sorcerers alongside them. 

Before Zeke could speak, Nolan spoke in a commanding tone that seemed to rattle off the bars of the cell. 

“You’re certain it was a Jourogumo.”

“Nolan? I-”

“Answer the question, Zeke.”

“I… yes. I’m certain. A Jourogumo child.”

Nolan turned to the sorcerers, who had already come in looking defeated. The older woman shook her head. “I am sorry, my liege. So one has found a cure for that curse since it was first placed. And it appears to be contagious through bonds such as the fate bond. If you complete the ritual and add him to the royal bond, I am afraid it will spread to everyone.”

Zeke felt his heart sink as Nolan stood there in silence. He’d never seen his brother look defeated. 

“We can find something,” Zeke said. “We have to! Maybe that’s what fate wanted us to-”

“Return the robes, Zeke.”

“What?”

“Return the robes.”

Zeke stared at his brother for a long moment before it hit him. What this all meant. It only made him hold the cloak tighter to himself, grasping onto his one desperate hope. 

He saw his brother’s eyes light up with anger and hurt, then his horn, and that was all Zeke would remember of that cold cell.