In the heart of Leonardace stood a palace of incomparable grandeur, its towering spires and gilded halls a testament to the kingdom's wealth and legacy. This was not merely the dwelling of a king—it was a sanctum of destiny, where every noble, at least once in their lifetime, would come to receive their purpose and their alliance.
It was here that the most revered of ceremonies took place—an ancient rite awaited by every noble heir and child of the aristocracy with eager anticipation. For this was no ordinary event; it was a judgment that would shape their futures, determining not only the path they were to tread but also the role they would bear in service to the realm, along with the attribute—a gift or burden—that would define their strengths and weaknesses for years to come.
Thus, the capital was alive with preparation. Mansions and estates across Leonardace bustled with activity as carriages were readied, attire perfected, and young heirs groomed to embody grace and dignity. The day of reckoning for the noble youth was drawing near, and with it came both the thrill of opportunity and the weight of expectation.
After some time, the procession made its way toward the heart of the capital—the Main Palace, where the long-awaited ceremony would take place. It was known across the realm as the Palace of Beginnings, for it marked the starting point of every noble heir's true journey in life.
The palace rose before them in magnificent splendor, its vast marble steps and soaring columns glimmering in the midday sun. Elegant banners of gold and deep crimson swayed in the breeze, each bearing the sigil of the royal house. The structure itself was immense, capable of accommodating hundreds within its grand halls, yet every detail spoke of refined craftsmanship and timeless authority.
Even for Ether, who had grown up surrounded by wealth and prestige, the sight was overwhelming. His own family's estates, though grand in their own right, could not compare to the sheer majesty of this place.
Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Dozens of children his age, each dressed in their finest attire, stood together—some exchanging excited whispers, others glancing around in awe. The noble houses were gathered in clear formation: the heads of each stood proudly to the right, observing their heirs with measured pride, while their spouses were arranged to the left, offering warm smiles and quiet encouragement.
From that left side, Ether caught sight of a familiar figure—a woman with striking blue hair and an energy that seemed to brighten the very air around her. She raised her hand high, her voice ringing above the murmurs.
"Ether! Here!" Lady Haera called, her expression alight with affection.
Ether returned his mother's wave with a small smile before letting his gaze wander across the gathering. All around him, children of noble blood stood in clusters—some fidgeting with nervous energy, others almost trembling with excitement, and a few wearing expressions that betrayed a careful mix of both.
Then, his eyes fell upon someone entirely different.
She stood apart from the rest, untouched by the lively atmosphere. Her hair was a cascade of pure white, gleaming like frost under the palace lights. Her eyes were sharp and unyielding, holding a depth that made Ether's heart skip. There was an elegance to her stance, but it was laced with something darker—an almost sinister air that seemed to coil around her like invisible chains of authority.
Every instinct within Ether's body recoiled. A strange chill settled over him, as though every cell in his being recognized a danger he could not explain. She felt… more terrifying than even his father, and that alone unsettled him. Her gaze, cool and certain, spoke of an unshakable superiority over everyone present, as if the entire gathering was beneath her notice.
Ether quickly averted his eyes.
Moments later, the ceremony began. A hush fell over the great hall as the heavy doors of the Palace of Beginnings swung open.
King Charles of Leonardace entered, flanked by seven figures whose presence alone commanded silence. This was no ordinary man—he was one of the Three Authorities of the realm, and the sixth of the Seven Great Powers. His bearing was regal and unyielding, a proud monarch whose very posture radiated command. His eyes were a piercing blue, his jawline sharp and defined, and his hair—golden as sunlight—fell in waves that caught the palace's brilliance.