The royal palace of Batili Kingdom glistened with splendor. Gold and silver decorations adorned the walls, and vibrant banners flapped gently in the breeze. The grand halls buzzed with activity as servants hurriedly completed final preparations. In just a few days, Ashora, the young prince of Batili, would celebrate his first birthday. It was an occasion of immense joy, and Amitrochates, the proud father and king, had ensured that the entire continent was invited to share in this momentous event.

For an entire year, Amitrochates had felt the weight of regret for not inviting dignitaries to celebrate his son's birth. Now, he sought to make amends. Invitations had been sent to every kingdom and empire, a testament to his desire for unity and goodwill. Yet amid the grandeur, one soul found little joy.

In a secluded corner of the palace, Leona sat cross-legged in her chamber. Her young face bore a somber expression, a stark contrast to the festivities outside. Though she was Ashora's elder sister, her unique powers kept her isolated. Despite a year of rigorous training under her grandfather, Androcottus, she still couldn’t control the energy that coursed through her. Her room was isolated with magic barriers so she could not lose control in her sleep.

"Gramps," she asked one evening, her voice tinged with sadness, "when can I play with my brother?"

Androcottus, ever patient, looked at her with a gentle smile. "When you can control your powers, my dear. That day will come."

Leona's lips quivered. "But I can't do it, no matter how hard I try."

Androcottus smiled and reassured her, "Dear, you are the youngest Awakener in human history. We had to keep it a secret from the whole world. If you could control it already, even the gods would be ashamed of themselves."

Encouraged, Leona ran back to her room and began practicing again.

Far above in the heavenly realm, divine beings observed the events unfolding in the mortal world. Their attention remained fixed on Ashora. "Why does the Almighty place such importance on this child?" one deity mused aloud, yet no answer came.

Amitrochates and Osborne are discussing the birthday celebration for their children, Ashora and Ikshita. They are ensuring that invitations have been sent to all kingdoms and empires. Their strong friendship makes the simultaneous birthdays of their children a special blessing for both of them.

Osborne said, "Your Majesty, invitations have been sent to all kingdoms and empires." Amitrochates replied, "That's good to hear. No matter how close a friend he is, Osborne never mixes friendship with official duties. While Amitrochates is his friend, this is still a personal matter, and the person standing with him right now is a king."

""Good," Amitrochates replied. He admired Osborne’s unwavering professionalism. As the days passed, the royal palace became a hub of activity. Kings, queens, and envoys from across the continent began to arrive. While emissaries from minor kingdoms were greeted by the foreign minister, Amitrochates personally welcomed the King of Fishcel Kingdom and his family, as well as the esteemed envoys from the Elf Kingdom and the Queen of Kathi Nation.

The faint rumble of an approaching carriage echoed through the air, growing louder as it neared the grand gates of the royal palace. Androcottus, standing near the central courtyard, paused mid-step. A powerful presence swept over him—a distinct and overwhelming aura that could only belong to dragon blood. His sharp eyes turned toward the entrance, and without hesitation, he made his way there, his pace brisk.

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The carriage that arrived was unlike any other, its frame an intricate blend of gold and obsidian, adorned with carvings of dragons in flight. The emblem of the Zaneunisali Empire, a kingdom ruled by those with the blood and powers of dragons, gleamed proudly on its side.

The carriage door opened, and a tall figure stepped out with a commanding presence. His snow-white hair gleamed in the sunlight, a testament to his lineage as a white dragon. His piercing gaze swept over the surroundings, and even among the grandeur of the Batili Kingdom, his regal aura remained unmatched. This was Emperor Zadrizes of the Zaneunisali Empire, a man whose very presence demanded reverence.

As Zadrizes descended from the carriage, he turned and extended a hand. From within, a woman emerged, her movements graceful yet deliberate. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, a clear mark of her red dragon heritage. Her beauty was as striking as her power, and she carried herself with the poise of a queen. This was Daria, the Empress of Zaneunisali.

Before anyone could marvel further, a teenage boy leaped out of the carriage behind them. His white hair mirrored his father’s, but his eyes burned a deep crimson, a unique blend of both his parents’ bloodlines. The boy landed lightly on his feet, his youthful energy a stark contrast to the composed demeanor of his parents. he is prince of zaneunisali Gearax.

Androcottus stepped forward, his expression respectful yet warm. “Your Majesty Zadrizes,” he greeted them, his voice steady. “And Your Majesty Daria, welcome to the Batili Kingdom. It is an honor to have you here.”

Zadrizes inclined his head in acknowledgment, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Androcottus. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty. Far too long,” Androcottus replied.

As the family gathered, Androcottus gestured toward the grand palace doors. “Allow me to escort you to your quarters. I trust your journey was pleasant?”

Zadrizes and Daria followed as Androcottus led them inside, the teenage boy trailing just behind. Along the way, Androcottus and Zadrizes exchanged words—discussing old alliances, the state of their kingdoms, and the gathering storm of politics that loomed over the continent.

Though the conversation flowed easily,

As they reached the entrance to their chambers, Androcottus turned to them with respect. “If there is anything you require, do not hesitate to ask. It is a privilege to host you on this occasion.”

Zadrizes offered a curt nod, his sharp gaze softening slightly. “Thank you, Androcottus. We look forward to the festivities.”

The day of the celebration arrived. In the grand hall, laughter and music filled the air. Ashora and Ikshita sat contentedly on their mothers’ laps, while Amitrochates and Osborne opened the festivities with a lively jam session. Guests mingled, wine flowed, and joy abounded.

Amid the celebration, Emperor Zadrizers approached a figure standing alone at the edge of the room. "Grandmaster Aratha," he greeted, raising his glass. "It has been some time."

Aratha, a humble-looking man with unassuming features, nodded. "Indeed, Your Majesty. I hope you are enjoying the celebration."

Before their conversation could continue, a commotion erupted nearby. A minister from the Fishcel Kingdom made a disparaging comment about Aratha, unaware of the grandmaster’s true stature. The Fishcel King, outraged, struck the minister and demanded an apology.

When the minister hesitated, Zadrizers released a wave of Dragon Fear, forcing the man to his knees. "Apologize," the emperor commanded, his voice like thunder.

"Enough," Aratha interjected calmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "Your Majesty, there is no need for this. Spare him."

Zadrizers relented, though the weight of his presence lingered in the air. Turning to the Fishcel King, Aratha offered a simple yet profound piece of advice: "A wise man speaks because he has something to say, while a fool speaks simply to say something. Choose your subordinates wisely."

With that, Aratha departed, leaving the guests to ponder his words.

As the celebration continued, the minister, still shaken, turned to his king. "Who is this Grandmaster Aratha, even Dragon King Zadrizers made a move?" in his defense.

The Fishcel King sighed. "Aratha is no ordinary man. He is the most respected figure on this continent, a man whose wisdom reshaped history. Remember this: Androcottus was once a slave, and it was the grandmaster who elevated him to kingship."

The minister fell silent, realizing the gravity of his mistake. Meanwhile, the banquet resumed, filled with laughter, music, and the promise of new beginnings.