If Seraphiel could describe this birthday celebration so far, it could be summed up in one word.
Boring.
Sure, the food was amazing! The drinks seemed to cleanse her body of all impurities, and she got to see some of the very legends and titans she had grown up listening to stories about.
But all in all, it was too boring for this antsy little princess.
Seeing her parents and the other adults talking about the East's state of affairs, she looked toward the other children in the hall.
But due to being sheltered in the Clan for the majority of her two years of life, she rarely interacted with others her age and didn't know how to strike up a conversation.
'Soooo bored. When will Lord Vairon and Lady Kaelira get here? Oh, what was their son's name again?'
As she absentmindedly played with the few pieces of fruit on her plate.
An announcement rang out through the hall that immediately wiped away any trace of grievance and complaint in her heart.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our hosts…"
…
Seated on his throne, Vaelor's closed eyes finally opened.
A sharp gleam filled them as he lifted his gaze to the door.
"They're finally here. Took them long enough." With a coy huff, Liraxia tilted her head as her exposed eyes curved knowingly.
Everyone in the hall, though holding their own conversations, had been paying close attention to the immortal couple. Seeing their movements, they all seemed to reach the same conclusion and turned their gazes to the large doors.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our hosts. The City Lord of Skydorn, Kaelira Aenwyn, and her husband, Vairon Aetherion!"
As the doors opened, a subtle breeze flew into the hall.
The banners swayed and lit up the hall in flashes of golden light, painting an image of golden snow.
Captivated by the resplendent sight, no one noticed when they had entered.
When the duo appeared before the crowd, a hushed awe fell over the audience.
Kaelira, in her regal phoenix gown, painted the picture of a majestic empress. Her aura wasn't heavy or fierce.
But it was present.
A presence that couldn't be ignored or desecrated.
Many of the women in the hall swooned. Their cheeks turned red in excitement as they locked onto the figure of their greatest icon.
Elowen, standing beside her husband, gripped his arm with the force of a demonic tiger, her breathing ragged as her bloodshot eyes locked onto Kaelira with a look of utter fanatism.
The pure strength behind her grip caused him to wince as he wondered how such weak, frail-looking arms could possess such strength.
Vairon entered with a less… heated reception, but as the son and previous heir of the Aetherion Patriarch, he still captured the attention of many below.
His long green hair was tied up into a loose ponytail, every strand seeming to dance in the faint breeze around them.
His plain black robe was unembellished, but even without any ornaments, his presence held a steady weight that felt like a retreating storm.
They walked through the center of the hall toward the podium of thrones, their steps graceful and unhurried.
The adults and older generation watched with awe and appreciation.
The children were star-struck, entranced by their divine bearing and otherworldly presence.
When they finally reached the podium, they both turned to face the audience.
The expected seriousness was missing from their expressions.
Instead, their faces were lit up with unconcealed mirth and contentment.
Kaelira took a step forward, drawing the attention of everyone within the room.
"Thank you all for coming today. As you already know, today is the birthday and celebration of my son, Chayrith. I know many of you have been dying to see this special boy of mine, so I won't waste your time with meaningless words."
She turned her gaze and lifted her arm toward the door, guiding their eyes back to the entrance.
A subtle electric expectation filled the air. The anticipation was palpable as the most anticipated figure of the night was about to make his debut.
While their eyes were filled with anticipation, there was also an underlying scrutiny and suspicion within those gazes. This young heir, born of the two greatest geniuses of the past generation—what kind of existence was he to be, to be so well hidden?
And their eagerness did not go unanswered for long, though the following words left them all stunned.
"Please welcome my son, heir to the Skydorn throne, Thearch of the Aetherion Clan—Chayrith Aetherion!"
The hall, previously buzzing with excitement and on the brink of erupting in applause, fell into a dead silence, the sounds of minds trying to reboot almost audible over the quiet.
The silence was soon broken by the sound of clinking heels, followed by the quickened, unsteady steps of another behind them.
Meilan's lithe figure broke into view, Marek's smaller, nervous frame hurriedly stepping into pace beside her.
Pausing at the door's threshold, they both turned and faced the doorway, bowing their heads as a third, slightly smaller figure emerged.
His gray robes were form-fitting, hugging his babyish frame like a second skin. The image of a silver serpent coiled its way around the cloth, giving an air of apprehension that strangely fit his chubby figure.
His short black-and-gray hair fell loosely on his shoulders, matching the leisurely expression on his face.
While his face was still covered in baby fat, his growing charm couldn't be hidden.
But what really shook the hearts of those below were his eyes.
The verdant green color of his pupils was a clear indicator of his lineage, but his eyes were unlike any other.
It wasn't the steady, composed green like his father's.
Or the dark, stormy hurricane in his grandfather's.
No. His eyes were filled with an eagerness not seen in the other two Aetherions present.
A foreboding that, for some reason, sent a chill down the spines of those present.
His eyes were like those of a predator—a hunter that now had its prey in sight.
And though one could argue that he was just a baby who had just turned a year old, nothing in those eyes showed a hint of childlike innocence.
As they observed him, he, in turn, met their gazes.
All sides held their own thoughts. But to Chayrith, there was only one.
One voice that echoed clearly in his mind.
'Ahhh… this will be a glorious day…'