At last, the day that the entire Empire had been eagerly anticipating had arrived. Every corner of the Empire was adorned with vibrant and dazzling flags, while the roads were lined with the most exquisite golden iris flowers. These flowers, with their striking red petals adorned with shimmering golden accents, resembled a red iris dusted with golden glitter. They grew only in a region that had once been part of the Abyss but was later conquered through the relentless efforts of humanity and the gods. Thus, these flowers came to be known as the ‘Rise of Hope.’ Since their discovery, they have become a powerful symbol of hope, widely embraced by the royal family to welcome new members as the bringers of hope for the world. The unique scent of these flowers was said to calm the heart, and they were also used medicinally to treat ailments of the mind.
Most subjects were overjoyed at the sight of the little princess, whose birth seemed to trigger a divine phenomenon. However, there were others who sought to exploit this event for their own gain. Some even spread false rumors, claiming that the first prince had used unconventional methods to cause the heavenly occurrence. As both praise and joy spread, so too did baseless rumors about the little princess. In bustling corners of the streets, whispers could be heard.
"Have you heard? The princess’s birth triggered a heavenly phenomenon that blessed our people and land. I heard that a sick child in my neighbor’s family was cured."
"That’s nonsense. It must have been the prince. Why would a girl's birth bring such wonders?"
"It was indeed the princess’s birth that caused the heavenly phenomenon. I heard it from my cousin, who works as a maid in the palace. But some claim the prince offered tribute to the Abyss instead."
"Don’t be ridiculous. The prince is our hero, saved us from the vile creatures of the Abyss. If it were the second prince, maybe I’d believe it."
"You see, the little princess has mismatched eyes. Don’t you think that’s a bad omen?"
"Hold your tongue! If any of the royal guards on patrol hear this, they’ll cut off your tongue and feed it to the stray dogs."
Mrs. Garcia, a renowned dressmaker who had designed hundreds of outfits for people of all ages and genders, was initially thrilled when the emperor’s attendant, Sir Morari, summoned her to create attire for the little prince and princess. She eagerly anticipated the opportunity to dress the young royals, especially the little prince, who, without any fuss, wore the finely tailored suit chosen by the Empress and the second prince. They had a particular penchant for selecting the most luxurious fabrics and designs for him.
However, things became far more complicated when it came to the little princess. Mrs. Garcia’s initial excitement turned into apprehension. She remembered vividly how the princess’s parents had given her sleepless nights when selecting their wedding attire, their meticulous demands and high standards being nothing short of terrifying. Now, she feared dressing the princess would be an even greater ordeal. Surprisingly, the challenge did not come from the parents this time but from the child herself.
The little princess displayed an uncanny awareness of what colors were shown to her, an unusual trait for a child her age. While most children would happily wear whatever their parents selected, the princess reacted with visible disdain. Every time the first prince or the Iron Lady chose a light pink tutu dress or a pale yellow frock, the child’s expression seemed to say, "You will never catch me dead in one of those monstrosities" or "Get this disgusting thing out of my sight."
As frustration mounted and options dwindled, Mrs. Garcia found herself at her wit’s end. She finally decided to try one last dress—one she never imagined would suit a child. It was a striking black-and-red gown adorned with golden irises and black butterflies. To her amazement, the moment the princess was dressed in it, the room seemed to hold its breath. The little princess looked stunning, as though the dress had been crafted solely for her. She exuded an aura that was regal and otherworldly, leaving everyone in awe.
The most relieved of all were her parents, who had secretly dreaded wearing matching pink or yellow attire to complement their daughter’s outfit. The first prince, too, sighed inwardly, silently thanking the gods and his perceptive little daughter. He thought to himself, "Oh, thank goodness! Thank you, my little cupcake. If not for you, Dad would’ve died of embarrassment. I’ll get you anything you want as a reward for this!"
When the ceremony started various guests were present, even the crowned prince of the Northern Empire along with his wife and a few months old son. Their very presence was dreadful for the entire empire. When sir Morari sent an invitation to the northern kingdom he didn’t expect anybody to come from their in his opinion the invitation itself was just a way for save their face and because when the little prince was born they sent an invitation to the Empire but no one went so he wasn’t expecting anyone from their empire. Back when the Northern Empire sent an invitation the Emperor himself told sir Morari that “Giving something after taking something is no god doing it’s a devil disguised as a god. I pity the child who was never given a choice but to take another’s life and fate to live it’s life.”
When both sets of parents entered the banquet hall with their children, all eyes turned toward the little princess and her parents, dressed in striking black and red clothing adorned with golden jewelry. The bold choice of attire was captivating—not a color typically seen at a naming ceremony. Combined with the radiant presence of the beautiful couple holding their equally enchanting child, they became the center of attention.
Crown Prince Evan Rodriguez of the Northern Empire couldn’t help but notice the angelic little girl cradled in her father’s arms. Yet, when his gaze fell on her, what he felt was not admiration but hatred, inexplicable and deep. To his shock, the child met his glare with an intensity that mirrored his own. It was the first time in his life that fear gripped his heart—and it was caused by a newborn.
As their eyes locked, a chilling realization dawned upon him. He felt the Abyss stirring within him, clawing at the edges of his mind, its darkness yearning to consume the child. The sheer presence of the princess awakened a hunger within the Abyss that he could barely suppress. A twisted smile crept across his face as he summoned a black messenger bird with a flick of his hand. Whispering a message, he sent the bird soaring out of the hall with urgency.
The Empress, simmering with resentment as her lavishly dressed grandson failed to draw the crowd’s attention, noticed the bird heading toward the garden. Curiosity piqued, she discreetly followed its path. When she reached the garden, the messenger bird was waiting, clutching a note in its claws. Retrieving the message, she read its contents with a growing sense of unease.
Although the message's meaning eluded her, she found it troubling. It seemed nonsensical at first glance—impossible to act on at the moment. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the gravity of its origin. The person who sent it would never relay something trivial or baseless. She committed its words to memory, unsure of their significance but certain they would prove important in due time.
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The Northern prince and the Empress weren’t the only ones seething inside; many others in the banquet hall harbored their own reasons for despising the peaceful little girl cradled in her father’s arms. Some were old rivals of the first prince and princess, while others were longstanding enemies of the royal family. Malicious gazes converged on the newborn, their owners brimming with ill intent. Yet, each time someone stared at her with hostility, the little princess returned their gaze with an intensity far beyond her age, as if daring them with her eyes to "Do you dare?"
Amidst the animosity, there were also those who genuinely wished to see the child, enchanted by how much she resembled the first prince. Among them were the Duke and Duchess from the Shadow Realm, accompanied by their own little girl and little boy, the Duke and Duchess of Damarius, and the priests and priestesses of the holy temple. These individuals gazed at her with fondness and admiration.
In response, the princess seemed to soften. She looked at them with wide, curious eyes and bestowed upon them small gestures—tiny waves, clumsy reaches, and endearing smiles—that only amplified her charm. In those moments, she was every bit the adorable baby she appeared to be, captivating the hearts of those who held no malice toward her.
When the ceremony began, the Elder Priest stood at the center of the altar, with both sets of parents and their children positioned on one side. He commenced chanting prayers to the gods of Ausra Nevaeh, his voice echoing with reverence and solemnity. As his prayers concluded with a plea for blessings upon the children, sparkling golden stardust descended from the heavens, enveloping the two newborns in a radiant golden glow.
The priest then instructed the princes to write the names of their children and place them into the golden chalice set before the altar. Once the names were placed inside, a sudden, divine flame descended from the heavens, consuming the paper. Moments later, a powerful voice resounded from above:
"We, the gods of Ausra Nevaeh, bless Athena Alexis Arcane, daughter of Alexander Quinn Arcane, and Ayden Lucas Arcane, son of Zelus Cimon Arcane. May the guidance of the One True Being be with you."
As the celestial proclamation ended, the fire within the chalice extinguished, leaving the room bathed in awe and silence.
Next came the gifts from the guests. The first to present was Archduke Philip Bellatrix, who gazed at his only granddaughter with awe and delight. “My dear little angel, you will always be cherished. Grow up healthy and be proud of your parents and grandparents.” The little princess cooed and laughed, her joy lighting up the faces of the Archduke and Duchess.
After the Archduke’s heartfelt words, many others stepped forward to give their presents.
Then, the Emperor himself rose to announce his gift. “I have prepared a Lucasta stone for the prince.”
Lucasta stones are an essential part of the awakening process. The higher the tier of the stone, the greater the probability of awakening multiple seals. While most stones share the same glass-like appearance, each tier is distinguished by its unique color. When the chest containing the stone was opened, a collective gasp rippled through the palace. Inside was a Black Tyrant Tier Lucasta Stone, the rarest and most powerful of its kind.
The room buzzed with astonishment. This grand gesture was a clear display of favor, one that made even the Empress smile with pride as she envisioned her grandson's golden future.
“This is a Lucasta stone from the royal treasury,” the Emperor declared. “I specifically chose it for my grandson.”
Inwardly, Sir Morari sighed. More like I chose it, and you agreed without so much as a glance.
Despite the admiration for the Emperor’s generosity, one question hung heavily in the air: What about the princess?
As if to stoke the fire, Crown Prince Evan Rodriguez spoke up, his voice sharp with mockery. “Why doesn’t the princess have one? Wasn’t she proclaimed the hope of the Empire? Or is this blatant favoritism? Perhaps the heavenly phenomenon was merely a hoax to deceive the commoners and enemies.”
The Emperor, unbothered by the insult, offered a calm, half-smile as if looking down on Evan’s audacity. “You see,” he began, “the previous Empress—Athena, the princess’s grandmother—left a specific gift for her grandchild. I am merely honoring her wishes. Nicolas, bring the chest.”
A servant carried over an ornate golden chest adorned with diamonds. All eyes were riveted to the chest, anticipation thick in the air.
“This,” the Emperor continued, “is a Lucasta stone left by Athena for her granddaughter. I do not know its tier—only Athena knew that. This is her blessing, and as her wish, the princess must use this stone during her awakening, regardless of its value.”
The atmosphere grew tense as the name of the previous Empress was uttered. Her mere mention seemed to chill the air, and all eyes turned to the golden chest, eager to learn its secrets.
“As you all know, my beloved Athena was an extraordinary enchantress,” the Emperor added. “This chest will only open when the princess begins her awakening trial. Agatha, I trust you will safeguard this for your daughter.”
The mention of the late Empress stirred discomfort in Empress Evelyn. Hidden resentment bubbled to the surface, igniting old insecurities. Even in death, I am still competing with that woman. I thought her demise would bring relief, but she torments me even now.
Masking her turmoil, Evelyn approached the two infants. “My Lord, I have prepared a gift as well,” she announced. “Maid, bring it here.”
The guests exchanged surprised glances. No one had expected the Empress to present a gift, least of all one for the granddaughter of her predecessor. Evelyn, however, maintained a serene expression, concealing the bitterness that lingered beneath the surface.
Two small boxes were brought forth, each containing a brooch. With delicate hands, Evelyn picked up the green brooch and approached the little prince. Her face softened with affection as she pinned the brooch to the left chest pocket of his tiny suit.
Without a word or expression, she moved to the princess and pinned the red brooch above the child’s heart. Though her actions seemed composed, the room could not ignore the subtle tension in her gesture—a stark contrast to the warmth she had shown the prince.
The moment the brooches were pinned in place, an unnatural stillness fell over the hall. Suddenly, the surroundings darkened as ominous clouds gathered above the palace. An eerie, bone-chilling wind began to blow through the banquet hall, sending shivers down the spines of everyone present.
Spooked by the unsettling atmosphere, the little prince’s cries pierced the heavy air, while the princess’s wide, bewildered eyes searched frantically, her tiny fists clenched in panic. The eerie scene escalated as, without warning, both children were lifted from their parents' arms and suspended in the air. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the brooches on the children’s chests began to glow brighter, pulsating with an otherworldly light.
Chaos ensued as the parents and guests frantically tried to intervene, yet every effort to retrieve the children proved futile. The more time passed, the paler the little princess became, her discomfort turning into visible distress.
A mage in the crowd suddenly shouted, his voice cutting through the panic like a blade: “This is a dark spell! Someone has cursed the princess and prince!”
A collective gasp rose from the guests, their shock and outrage palpable. Who could dare commit such an atrocity against innocent children?
The Empress, though wearing a mask of concern, was inwardly elated to see the little princess struggling. Watching her plan unfold brought her immense satisfaction. Her eager eyes were fixed on the scene, relishing the discomfort of the princess as it washed away the bitterness lingering from the earlier mention of the previous Empress.
As the princess grew increasingly pale, it became clear that her fragile life was slipping away. However, a flicker of confusion crossed the Empress’s mind—why was the little prince also growing pale?