A hushed stillness settled over the assembly as they stood before the crystal, each member captivated by the unfolding scene. Not a single word dared to break the weighty silence that hung in the air, resonating with a multitude of unspoken emotions. What should have been a ceremonial milestone in the princess's journey into maturity had transformed into an otherworldly spectacle, injecting an unsettling blend of fear and unease into the atmosphere. Among the spectators, King Larfal's distress was palpable; his once resolute countenance now bore an expression of shock and disbelief, his hands trembling involuntarily.
Forgar, having returned from the subterranean chamber, was equally ensnared by bewilderment. His staff quivered within his grasp, mirroring the confusion that seemed to have permeated his very bones.
"Riveria," Forgar's voice carried a mixture of disbelief and puzzlement.
Within the crystal, Riveria appeared entrapped, her eyes closed as if lost in a serene slumber. For anyone beholding this surreal scene, a shiver of both awe and trepidation would inevitably course down their spine. Witnessing their future queen ensnared in such an enigmatic state was enough to stir deep-seated concerns. However, for those who truly comprehended the situation, confusion reigned. Forgar was among the few who understood the intricacies of it all. He had discerned a distinct peculiarity in Riveria's expression.
While her visage was suspended, as if held in an eternal prison, a hint of melancholy graced her otherwise serene features. It was as if a single tear had escaped from beneath her closed eyelids. This facet of her expression was profound, akin to an endless ocean that drew anyone who glimpsed it into a wellspring of sympathy.
A profound sorrow, etched indelibly into memory. Like a scar, even if time allowed for healing, its mark would forever remain.
King Larfal, finally recovering from his initial shock, surged toward the crystal. Gone was the stern countenance of a ruler; he was now a father solely consumed by concern.
"Forgar!" Larfal's cry pierced the air, his voice laced with desperation as he called for his Court Magician.
Forgar swiftly approached the alarmed Larfal, the Court Magician expeditiously beginning to analyze the crystal. He channeled his magical energy for a comprehensive examination. This crystal was no mere artifact; it was a relic from a long-forgotten era, a time when the elves could mold reality with a mere thought. To liken this artifact to commonplace magical crystals would be a grievous error.
Forgar had dedicated half his life to exploring the mysteries concealed within the Royal Palace, uncovering hidden enigmas entwined within every stone. Despite decades of unflagging effort, he had barely scratched the surface. Yet, this had afforded him the capacity to analyze the current crystal or, at the very least, to comprehend its intrinsic nature.
The crystal resembled a living entity, much like a sentient plant, responsive to stimuli and driven by innate urges. As Forgar delved deeper, he realized the crystal's movements and reactions adhered not solely to base instincts, but rather followed an intricately woven pattern, akin to a command intricately embedded within its essence. Deciphering this pattern initially posed a formidable challenge, until Riveria, equipped with her magecraft, entered the scene. Sharing her research, she had imparted insights to Forgar, enabling him to gradually unravel the crystalline puzzle's structure.
This crystal was a memoir, a repository crafted to hold a message accessible only by the individual designated by its creator. Within this crystalline vessel resided a message attributed to none other than Queen Celdia. The signature enshrined within the crystal aligned with the Queen's final document before her passing. Yet, an anomaly emerged – this crystal should have predated even Queen Celdia herself. Logically, it had been crafted by the First Generation Elves, and yet its contents remained dormant until Queen Celdia's era.
As the pieces coalesced within Forgar's mind, he discerned that the crystal had been intended for Queen Celdia and its message for Riveria. However, a single puzzle piece still eluded him: the motive behind this enigmatic tapestry of events.
Forgar intensified his focus, closing his eyes as he channeled his magical energy into the crystal. Amid his concentration, a startling discovery jolted him. Contrary to his expectations, the crystal wasn't imprisoning Riveria; instead, it seemed to be cocooning her with profound care. The magical energy enshrouding the princess's form wove a protective shield, reminiscent of the embrace guarding a precious gem, about to be revealed to the world.
Mentally, Forgar extended his efforts, attempting to rouse Riveria from her slumber. Yet, every attempt was met with a gentle repulsion from the crystal. This was not the response Forgar had anticipated. Normally, an artifact would thwart any attempt to breach its core. However, this entity was different—almost attuned to its connection with Riveria, quietly deflecting Forgar's efforts.
"I beg you. Return my student to me," Forgar beseeched, his plea a heartfelt whisper.
"She shall return," resonated a voice, tender and gracious.
"Who?" Forgar's mental voice projected his query, tinged with caution.
"Your sovereign embarks on a journey to attain her ultimate reward. A legacy that will secure her salvation and unlock the door to her destiny," the voice responded, inviting astonishment from Forgar.
"What do you mean?" The elf's mental inquiry delved deeper, seeking clarity within the ancient crystal's depths.
"This is the process ordained for her over countless millennia—a destiny that will propel her along a path long and fraught with struggle. Yet, it culminates in happiness and love," the voice answered directly, sparking several hints of suspicion.
"What is the meaning behind your words?" Forgar inquired, his gaze sharp upon the crystal.
The crystal merely shimmered and blinked a few times, as if responding to the Court Magician's question. Forgar took a step forward.
"I beg you. I seek only to know the condition of my beloved student," Forgar beseeched, softening his tone in the hope that the ancient artifact would provide him with an answer..
"She shall be well," responded a voice that didn't emanate from the crystal but from an ethereal source beyond. It was a voice tender and gentle, capable of soothing anyone who heard it. No, it was the authentic voice of the ancient crystal itself. This voice transcended the boundaries of space and time, piercing Forgar's soul and rekindling a facet of his character he believed long buried within his memories.
Gradually, Forgar began to discern the identity of the entity addressing him. The figure was none other than the legend itself—an incarnation of regality with verdant tresses, materializing in his mental image, adorned with a smile akin to that of a nurturing mother. This image bore an uncanny resemblance to Riveria. This figure had etched an enduring saga that spanned nearly as long as the Transition Elves' era.
The Transition Era marked the culmination of the Age of Heroes and the Mystical Era, ushering in an era where gods descended upon Genkai, paving the way for the Age of Adventurers. Indeed, when the gods graced Genkai with their Falna, bestowing it upon mortal beings, the malevolent forces of monsters were quelled, transforming Genkai into a sanctuary for all mortals. However, on the flip side, the arrival of the divine heralded the decline of the era of spirits. Despite the wisdom these divine beings imparted, much knowledge of magic and spirit powers was forgotten, relegated to the annals of time.
"Queen Celdia," Forgar uttered, finally recognizing the owner of the voice. He began to kneel, showing deep respect for the queen.
"I implore you. I am but a fragment of Queen Celdia; you should not bow before me like this, honored magician," the voice gently requested.
"Nevertheless, you are the one who could restore the glory of the elves, even if it was a thousand years ago," Forgar clenched his hands tightly, gritting his teeth. He knew all too well that since Queen Celdia's death, the power of the elves, whether in magic or dominance in the world, had waned. Just a few decades ago, humans were able to burn much of the elven forests with their cursed magical weapons, becoming the nemesis of the elves.
"I can sense the bitterness in your tone, my child," the voice spoke softly. "My glory has long passed, turned into history, and now transformed into a fairy tale. Let the past be past and look to the future. The future lies in the hands of your princess."
From behind the crystal, he saw the princess who had become his student. No, he saw a queen who slumbered. She was no longer the princess she once was; now, she was a queen. Forgar couldn't fully understand what had caused Riveria to change, but one thing he knew for sure was that she had truly grown into a mature leader, radiating charisma from her face.
"Her awakening is imminent, and I possess knowledge of all her intentions and her actions in the times to come," Celdia's voice whispered gently.
"So, you've been aware all this time?" Forgar's astonishment was clear in his gaze, his eyes widening as he looked towards the crystal.
"I have meticulously chronicled every event of the past thousand years," Celdia replied, her voice carrying the weight of countless ages.
"How?" Forgar inquired, his form slowly rising from the submissive posture he had assumed.
"Every nook and cranny of this castle is an extension of my very being. Each brick that composes its formidable walls is inextricably linked to my essence. All of this was meticulously fashioned by Rishena, designed to lead me to one who resembles Princess Riveria. Ah, Rishena, how I long for your presence," Celdia's voice carried a bittersweet melancholy, her words tinged with a yearning that echoed through the ages.
"To seek someone akin to Lady Riveria. How, Your Majesty, did you foresee the emergence of such an individual?" Forgar regarded the crystal with a perplexed expression, curiosity etched across his features.
This was an extraordinary occurrence, unseen for millennia since the crystal's inception. The true purpose of the Royal Palace and all its enigmatic artifacts and mechanisms had remained a mystery. Yet, it seemed as if everything had conspired for this singular moment, a moment so astonishing that not even the gods themselves could have fathomed.
"Wake her," Celdia's plea held a fragile elegance.
Forgar nodded resolutely and approached the crystal with measured steps. With a gentle touch, he shattered the crystal's enchantment. Riveria's form descended gracefully into his waiting arms. Forgar had watched her grow from childhood to this very moment, and now, he beheld her as a mature woman. Emotions danced across her face, and Forgar sensed that Riveria had unearthed something profound within the crystal's depths.
A radiant light unfurled, cocooning them in its tender embrace. A soft, mystical whisper graced Forgar's ears, carried by the very essence of magic, like a secret zephyr concealed behind the breathtaking luminescence that enveloped them.
"Thank you."
Forgar's eyes blinked open, returning to the realm of reality. He observed Larfal, still frantically attempting to free Riveria while directing anxious cries at him. Yet, unlike Larfal's frenzied efforts, Forgar remained serene, aware that Riveria's awakening was imminent.
With a resounding fracture, the crystal yielded, releasing Riveria from her slumber. In stark contrast to her prior emergence, Riveria awoke fully conscious, her gaze upon Larfal was composed, adorned with a faint but enigmatic smile.
"Riveria!" Larfal voice echoed through the ceremony site as he lunged forward, catching Riveria just in time to prevent her from tumbling to the floor.
"Father, I am well," Riveria reassured him with a gentle smile, her eyes holding an unspoken understanding.
"I insist you return to your chambers immediately," Then, Larfal implored, his concern etched across his features.
"I'm perfectly fine, Father. I can carry on with the ceremony," Riveria replied, her voice filled with unwavering conviction. Her unwavering gaze was fixed on Larfal, a silent challenge to any further objections.
However, Larfal remained undeterred. He fixed Riveria with a piercing stare and summoned his kingly presence before speaking with unshakable authority. "Consider it a royal decree, Riveria. I insist that you return to your chambers and receive treatment. I don't wish to hear any explanations; I expect your compliance!"
Riveria fell into a momentary silence, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance. In that brief pause, a newfound resolve welled up within her, and her demeanor shifted into one of unwavering determination. It was a transformation that caught Larfal off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.
"Father, I beg you," Riveria's voice was steady, her words carrying an air of authority that seemed to have emerged from deep within her. "This burden has become mine as the future queen. I am prepared to prove both my capability and my willingness to carry this responsibility."
Her words hung in the air, and her surrounding seemed to hold their breath as her declaration settled in.
But Larfal didn't stop; he gripped Riveria's hand with angry, reddened eyes. "Have you dared to challenge me? Riveria, ever since your mother passed away, I have been the one taking care of you. I know what's best for you!"
Riveria fell silent for a moment, and then a small smile crept onto her face. Larfal realized the meaning behind that smile. It was a smile that always appeared when Riveria stood on the brink of victory.
As if commanded by a divine power, Riveria's lips moved of their own accord. An impossible sentence escaped her mouth.
{𝕷讠ᕂല} The sentence commanded reality. The words that had long been lost. Words from a language found only in fairy tales.
With that one word, a vibration occurred. But it wasn't just an ordinary vibration. Forgar, being a wizard, could sense the flow of magical energy far better than the rest, yet he felt something different this time.
The resonant vibrations expanded in every conceivable direction, seamlessly fusing with the very essence of magic itself. The fabric of space and time quivered and contorted, as if reality itself was being skillfully woven and molded by an unseen, celestial hand.
Forgar, with a keen sense honed over the years, recognized that this power was not just any arcane force. It originated from the very wellspring of elven existence. Its harmonious connection with them transcended the bounds of typical sorcery. It was a force of such extraordinary might that it left those present in awe, prompting contemplation of the incredible feats achieved by the First Generation Elves who harnessed this energy. This power, astonishingly, required only a single word to set it in motion.
The ancient castle, having stood dormant for untold millennia, began to stir. Long-forgotten mechanisms, hidden away through countless ages, slowly awakened from their slumber. They moved in unison, responding to the unseen force with a precision and grandeur unparalleled in the annals of history.
A profound hush fell upon the assembly of elves as they sensed an extraordinary surge of magic engulfing them. The words uttered by Riveria were not mere incantations, nor did they belong to the realm of divine incantations like Arcanum. They were a command issued to the very fabric of reality itself, a powerful directive that beckoned the universe to respond. It was a forgotten and ancient decree, one lost to the annals of time.
Forgar watched in awe as the world around him seemed to shift. He slowly, reverently, lowered himself to one knee, a gesture of profound respect and submission to the immense power before him.
With eyes glistening with tears of joy, he whispered, "The Golden Age has returned."
Larfal, a witness to these extraordinary events, found himself utterly speechless. The sheer magnitude of magical energy radiating from the palace overwhelmed his senses, leaving him in a state of stunned disbelief.
Riveria's smile remained serene as she gracefully waved her hand, akin to a maestro orchestrating a symphony of space and time. With each passing moment, the explosion of magical energy rippled outward, weaving intricate circuitry that sprawled across the castle's foundations. The Royal Palace started its enigmatic metamorphosis, taking on a form that defied mere description – not because it was complex, but because it transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension.
"Ahh!" Riveria winced, a trace of blood staining her lips.
In a mere heartbeat, the Royal Palace reverted to its original shape, and the majestic essence that had radiated from it dissipated. However, the profound impact had delved deep into the souls of every elf who bore witness. A legacy, crafted by their forebears, entombed and forgotten by the sands of time, had now returned to their generation, albeit as a fleeting echo of its true glory.
"What on earth was that?" Larfal exclaimed, his eyes fixed on Riveria, who had a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth.
"Our race's ancient power, Father. What I just demonstrated is something our ancestors wielded effortlessly," Riveria replied, her grin radiating pride.
Larfal fell silent, utterly astonished by what he had witnessed. It was a power that seemed to transcend all the senses possessed by elves, almost causing him to kneel. Larfal held a deep-seated resentment toward the gods for their audacious interference in the Genkai and the subsequent spread of their influence. Meanwhile, the Spirit-craft and various magics that had long been the elves' specialties, passed down through generations, had been supplanted by Falna. This shift, coupled with the loss of mystical abilities and boundless knowledge, had left all elves bereft.
As Larfal beheld his daughter performing this long-forgotten magical feat, a profound sense of pride welled up within him. His gaze briefly flickered towards the Royal Palace before returning, unwavering, to Riveria.
"Where did you acquire such a power?" Larfal's voice, once cold and distant, now carried a hint of awe, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor. Yet, the stern mask on his face remained firmly in place.
Riveria's response was delivered with calm assurance. "Queen Celdia herself entrusted me with this power," she answered. "She has tasked me with the dual mission of realizing my dream—exploring the world—and fulfilling my duties as the crown princess. In this endeavor, her support is unwavering."
Once again, Larfal's composure wavered, his gaze an intense scrutiny that could pierce steel. His tightly clenched teeth betrayed the storm of emotions within.
"What precisely do you mean?" Larfal's voice, though seemingly composed, carried a chilling undercurrent. Yet, Riveria met her father's challenging gaze with resolute determination.
Riveria glided gracefully toward her awaiting subjects, her gaze locking with theirs. In the collective expressions of awe and admiration that met her eyes, she shimmered like a beacon of hope, her very presence exuding a blend of strength and wisdom that cast her as a true savior in their hearts.
Observing her people with meticulous care, Riveria took note of their reactions. A weighty mantle of responsibility now rested squarely on her shoulders. She was no longer burdened solely with her personal aspirations and the duties of a princess. Instead, she carried a profound secret, one that held the key to the safety and survival of all elves, a revelation that would reignite the flames of hope within those who still possessed the will to fight for their existence.
"My cherished people," Riveria's voice rang out, its regal cadence echoing the authority of a queen addressing her loyal subjects. As she spoke, an aura enveloped her, a presence that spoke of a future destined for greatness—a destiny she had embarked upon.
The crowd hushed, their collective gaze fixated upon their princess, eyes brimming with hope. In their expressions, there was no mistaking the radiance of her words. For centuries, they had been bound by tradition, their memories of a bygone elf society fading. Yet, some among them still held echoes of the past, memories entwined with the reign of King Horfal, Larfal's father, and Riveria's grandfather.
"The elven race, is one that has always taken immense pride in our gift of magic," Riveria's voice resonated with authority, carrying across the assembly. "But let us not forget the tales of old, the stories passed down through generations. We have watched our knowledge, power, and glory dwindle with the sands of time. Once, we were spoken of in whispers that reached the very heavens, capable of feats that even the gods deemed impossible."
A collective hush had fallen over the elves, their heads bowing beneath the weight of self-reflection. They had long been ensnared in their own sense of superiority, a hubris that had led to their humiliation at the hands of humanity centuries ago. Elves, too arrogant in their mastery of magic, had been brought low by humans wielding enchanted swords that reduced their once-proud forests to ashes. The very beings they had once scorned now towered above them, their laughter echoing as a bitter irony of the elves' fall from grace.
Riveria's gaze held steadfast on her people, and her words bore the weight of determination. She sought not only to rekindle the glorious past of the elven race but to do so wisely, learning from their history. The lessons imparted by Lord Caster, when he had inadvertently touched upon the power of the First Elves, echoed in her mind.
"Remember, Riveria. With great power comes great responsibility. With that responsibility, embrace those who are weak and lead them toward what should be their destiny."
The audition reverberated in Riveria's thoughts, a cornerstone of her inner self as she embarked on her journey to become a queen. She was resolute in her determination not to replicate the legacy of arrogance and superiority that had stained the elven race's history. The elves had already marred their name, and she was determined to lead them away from the tragic patterns of the past, into a new era that would dispel the centuries-long darkness they had endured.
Her father's suggestion, isolating the High Elves and establishing a dogmatic worship of the Sacred Forest, had its merits. Yet, Riveria recognized it as a mere stopgap, a temporary solution that would perpetuate stagnation and eventually lead to the elves' self-destruction.
In her mind, Riveria recalled the tales spun by Lord Caster, stories of a forgotten elven civilization buried within layers of myths and legendary songs. A narrative known solely to Lord Caster himself.
"The Tale for Those Who Bind the Light."
An enthralling epic that had once been lived and sung by all races over a millennium past. It recounted an era when the elves, wielding unparalleled power, were not solitary in their might. The Word of Creation, while an instrument of extraordinary might capable of both creation and annihilation, was also a bestower of power, akin to a divine blessing.
With a single phrase, they replicated what the gods and spirits did for their champions, bestowing blessings of power and wisdom; while the gods employed Falna to infuse their chosen with divine might, creating a Mystery crystallizing within their familia members' deeds, the spirits enacted a blood pact, sharing their strength and essence with a fraction of their soul. The Word of Creation, however, was distinct.
It reshaped a mortal's Origin, melting it and sculpting it as dictated by the elf's words, a miracle capable of granting rebirth towards unattainable heights. In those ancient times, this was the role of the elves, etched into an epic that had long vanished into the annals of history.
"We are an ancient race, living far longer than the spirits who once blessed mortal beings to combat monsters. We are the race that was once told as guides for those weaker than us. An ancient tale that has become a saga now long dead." Riveria's magical circuit slowly began to glow, surprising everyone. "I, Princess Riveria Ljos Alf, vow to restore that era."
Riveria wanted to bring that back. An era where elves didn't just comfortably hide behind their forests but became pioneers for those who sought to reclaim their glory. In the past, it wasn't just the elves who achieved greatness.
The Pallum, Dwarves, Humanity, Renard, Boaz, Amazons, and various races living in Genkai. They had lost what once made them great. And now, with the help of the gods, they were trying to reclaim that glory.
Nonetheless, even with the divine aid, tangible advancements remained elusive. A whirlwind of conjecture whirled through Riveria's thoughts. Several months prior to Lord Caster's enigmatic vanishing, he had obliquely alluded to these epochs and the enigmatic reasons behind this persistent inertia, as if harboring a clandestine truth.
"Yet, to usher in that era is no trifling endeavor," Riveria intoned, her words carrying the weight of millennia. "Numerous perspectives and notions posit that we are presently ensnared within a profound stagnation. And I find myself in concurrence with such beliefs."
A profound hush enveloped the elven assembly, each member's gaze a canvas of myriad expressions too intricate to delineate. Some among them discerned the profound implications embedded within those words, while others stood in stunned silence. The vast majority of those raised within the sanctum of the forest wore an expression akin to perplexity. A race that had once boasted boundless potential and abilities had allowed itself to be ensnared by its own self-imposed limitations.
It was an irony not lost on Riveria.
"The power I now possess offers but a glimpse of what we once forfeited," Riveria continued, her voice resolute. "As you can witness, I have rekindled the Word of Creation, also the very type of magic that Queen Celdia wielded in her confrontation against the Black Dragon." The luminance of Riveria's magical circuits intensified, a tangible manifestation of conceptualized magic reawakening before their very eyes.
"Behold! The prowess I now wield is the selfsame legend that once served as the linchpin of our heroic queen's battle against the abominations of an era when monsters roamed our realm with impunity. The power that once granted the elven race a fleeting glimpse of their lost glory!" Riveria's proclamation resonated with a resounding and soul-stirring intensity. With unwavering focus, she harnessed the entirety of her magical energy, channeling it into a magecraft that had been bestowed upon her by Lord Caster—a foundation for her development in the magecraft, known as Gradation Air.
Elves, by their very nature, held a deep reverence for harmony with the natural world, loathing the idea of its degradation and destruction. Now, Riveria sought to unveil a feat reminiscent of Queen Celdia herself, an event immortalized within the pages of the first journal, now lost to the ravages of that tragedy but indelibly etched into Riveria's heart.
With a graceful extension of her hand, Riveria summoned her formidable analytical abilities to craft an object she had glimpsed through the memories imparted to her by Queen Celdia. Her intent was to recreate the staff that had served as Queen Celdia's primary weapon—a staff that had once forged new paths for the elves and confronted the One-Eyed Black Dragon.
Nevertheless, Gradation Air possessed a fundamental vulnerability. The objects it conjured were inherently fragile, prone to deterioration, and susceptible to the limitations of mortal understanding when it came to replicating complex structures.
Yet, Riveria's mastery, combined with the wisdom bequeathed by Queen Celdia, should have endowed her with the ability to conjure a staff virtually indistinguishable from the one once wielded by the Queen. She drew a deep breath, summoning her magical energy, fortified by the power of conceptualization, which condensed within her tightly clenched fist.
The assembled elves stood in rapt awe, collectively holding their breath, as if witnessing the resurrection of the Royal Palace after countless millennia. Right before their eyes, it was as though reality itself bent to Riveria's will, as though she had plucked a concept from the annals of time and sculpted it into a tangible form, breathing life into it here and now.
Forgar stood transfixed in wide-eyed amazement. He had previously witnessed magic wrought through mere words, but what unfolded before him now was magic born from the conceptualization of an entire era, harnessed through its wielder.
"Come forth, Dominus Alf!" Riveria's voice resonated through the assembly of elves, casting a radiant burst of green light that bathed their surroundings. Emerging from this ethereal brilliance was a staff forged from mithril, adorned with glistening adamantium. Its beauty and elegance outshone all else, a relic crafted through ancient techniques long erased from the annals of time, exuding an authority akin to an invincible magical scepter. It stood as the epitome of majesty, crowned with emerald gems at its pinnacle, their radiance unveiled only to the discerning eyes of the elves.
This, without a doubt, was the embodiment of Queen Celdia's legend—the Dominus Alf, a staff that eclipsed all others in its magical prowess.
"Dominus Alf," Forgar whispered in reverent awe. During the era of the hero Albert, he had immersed himself in the study of elven lore, encountering tales of the elves melding adamantium and mithril with the aid of various ancient artifacts scattered widely at that time. Together, these materials had facilitated the creation of unrivaled magical staves.
The Dominus Alf, as the legends recounted, had been forged by a red-robed spirit in tandem with the Queen herself to combat an ancient monstrosity that had once terrorized the northern desert. It had become a symbol of hope and leadership—an artifact that had irrevocably shifted the course of elven destiny, earning it the illustrious epithet "The Staff That Masters Destiny."
With unwavering determination, Riveria steeled herself to utter a word that would compel reality to acknowledge that the Magna Alf held in her hand was not a mere conceptual imitation but a genuine object existing in the present.
{𝕰ቲലЃ𝟆ลไ} The word reverberated, a command to reality itself and the reality answered. It was a word that coerced existence, a word that rewrote and recreated the very fabric of reality. The staff in Riveria's hand underwent a transformation, transcending its status as a mere facsimile to become an authentic Dominus Alf, recognized as such by the very essence of reality.
As Riveria uttered those resounding words, a fiery sensation coursed through her throat and chest, as though each magical circuit within her had transmuted into molten chains, encasing her in an incandescent embrace. The verdant-haired princess grappled with the searing agony, her will a beacon of unwavering determination. She would not falter; she was determined to prove to her entire kin that their latent greatness was within reach, that she had become a harbinger of a new age.
"As you have borne witness, I have summoned this staff from the forgotten of time," Riveria proclaimed, her voice resonating through the air as she raised the gleaming adamantium staff to the heavens.
"Behold, this power we have witnessed is none other than magecraft—the arcane art wielded by Queen Celdia herself, which vanquished nameless horrors that once threatened our existence!"
At Riveria's declaration, a swell of pride and exultant cheers filled the air. Her people hailed her name, their emotions overflowing. Some wept with joy, and a handful even knelt in deep reverence before the princess. This adoration, although foreseen and somewhat expected, was not what she aimed for. She knew it could easily lead them astray, obscuring her true intentions. In response, Riveria slammed her staff upon the earth, sending a subdued tremor that stilled every elf within the confines of Alf Royal Forest.
"The power we have just witnessed is indeed extraordinary—a legend reborn, passed down through whispered tales. But let it be known that I did not attain this power in isolation," Riveria continued with serene composure, a fleeting smile tinted with longing gracing her features. Her words cast a profound hush among her people, curiosity etched on their faces.
Larfal watched his daughter intently, sensing an unfamiliar dimension to her usual demeanor. It was a rarity to see her shed the cloak of unyielding seriousness. Larfal knew this aspect well, recognizing it as a trait he had often witnessed in his late wife. The way Riveria conducted herself now was a telltale sign of a profound and abiding love for someone.
Forgar wore a soft, knowing smile as he observed the unfolding events. His keen eyes flicked between Riveria and Larfal, recognizing the emotional storm brewing within the king. The magician moved forward, positioning himself slightly ahead of Larfal.
Larfal's voice dripped with sharpness as he addressed Forgar. "What is the meaning of this, Forgar?"
Forgar's response was delivered with a calm and measured tone. "Allow your daughter to carve her own path, Larfal."
Larfal's eyes bore into Forgar, anger and betrayal brewing beneath the surface. "Carve her own path?" he interrogated.
The magician's warm chuckle filled the air. "I taught your wife the ways of magic, Larfal. I know Alinicia as well as you do. I've witnessed my student fall in love with you, and now I see it happening with my newest student."
Larfal's gaze remained fixed on Forgar, an intensity in his eyes that threatened to escalate the situation. He moved to confront Riveria directly, but Forgar intervened, placing a hand on the king's shoulder. Before Larfal could unleash his frustration, Riveria's sigh quelled his anger.
Riveria shifted the focus of the gathering. "You all must be familiar with the tale of the 'Wizard in Red,' the red-cloaked figure who imparts knowledge to well-behaved elven children," she began with a warm smile.
The audience of elves wore expressions of bewilderment, for what Riveria mentioned was a cherished children's story told by elven parents to inspire diligence and discipline in their young.
Larfal was clearly puzzled. "What?" he murmured.
Forgar's scholarly curiosity surged, connecting various dots from ancient history as he grasped the implications of Riveria's words.
"Indeed, a fortunate young lady," he whispered in reverence.
Riveria continued with unwavering conviction, her charisma lending weight to her words. "The story of the red-cloaked figure originates from the same source as Queen Celdia's tale, the red spirit who granted power to our queen. Throughout our history, from Queen Celdia's era onward, there have been countless accounts of the red-cloaked figure bestowing magic and wisdom upon the elven people. I declare, without a shadow of a doubt, that this figure is a living, breathing entity who has safeguarded the elves to this very day."
A profound silence enveloped the assembly as Riveria unveiled this astonishing revelation. Among the elves, disbelief and acceptance mingled within the audience. Forgar, the seasoned scholar and magician, found himself utterly astounded by the bombshell dropped by Riveria. However, Larfal, ever the skeptic, regarded it as nothing more than fantastical nonsense.
The princess's voice rang out, carrying the weight of truth. "The bestower of magecraft upon Queen Celdia, the artisan of this staff, and a Grand Spirit, a higher entity beyond Aria the spirits — Lord Caster is his name. It is the name he bestowed upon both Queen Celdia and me." Riveria paused, her gaze sweeping over the assembled elves. "Yes, it was Lord Caster who imparted his knowledge of magecraft to me, officially designating me as Queen Celdia's successor."
Riveria's revelation invoked a whirlwind of reactions among her people. Some elves struggled to reconcile this revelation with their reality, grappling with the idea of such a being's existence. For others, belief and understanding washed over them like a familiar tide. Forgar, still processing this extraordinary information, couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of reverence for the figure of Lord Caster.
Riveria's revelation had unleashed a maelstrom of emotions and inquiries throughout Alf Royal Forest. Her words had sown the seeds of curiosity and disbelief, casting a veil of intrigue over her elven kin.
Riveria turned her gaze towards her people, a warm smile gracing her features as she extended her hand high. "In our pursuit to reclaim our lost glory," she declared, her voice resolute and filled with determination, "I hereby announce the initiation of a Pilgrimage of Knowledge. We shall venture beyond our boundaries into the wider world, gathering wisdom and power to enrich our magecraft. This, my fellow elves, is our golden opportunity!"
Despite the awe and shock rippling through his people, Larfal found it hard to fathom what he had just heard. His thoughts raced at the speed of lightning, and anger began to simmer within him, awaiting its release.
"Riveria!" Larfal's furious cry cut through the air as he stormed towards his daughter, each step heavy with turbulent emotion.
The king's enraged outburst sent a shiver through the entire assembly, leaving them puzzled and bewildered. None could comprehend why Riveria, who had just restored magecraft to their age, would now incur her father's wrath.
Riveria stood before her father, resolute and unwavering, fully prepared to accept whatever consequences lay in her path. She knew that sooner or later, her father would discern her true intentions.
"Father, what weighs on your mind?" Riveria inquired softly, her eyes locked with her father's.
Larfal's voice thundered like the roar of a storm as he declared, "I cannot grant your wish to leave the confines of this forest. Such a request is denied!" His words reverberated throughout the entire castle, leaving no doubt about his stern determination. "You shall remain within this forest."
Riveria's response was firm, her words like the unwavering roots of ancient trees. "But, Father, I harbor a fervent desire to advance my mastery of magecraft alongside Lord Caster. The Golden Age unfolds before us, and I fervently believe that I can make an indelible impact. Should we not seize this opportunity?"
Larfal's reply was unyielding, his gaze piercing like the sharpest of elven arrows. "You may pursue your studies within these woods, Riveria. I shall grant you unrestricted access to our library, but on the condition that you do not venture beyond these boundaries."
Riveria's resolve remained unshaken. Her voice, like a resonant bell, proclaimed, "I must refuse, Father. We were once a proud and noble race, guiding those who had lost their way. But if we remain hidden, if I am confined within these boundaries, we shall be no more than frogs in a well."
Larfal countered with deep conviction, "We can summon our elven kin to join us here. You shall impart your wisdom to them, and in unity, our knowledge shall flourish, Riveria."
Amidst the escalating tension, Riveria's frustration and simmering anger threatened to consume her. She clenched her teeth, her emotions a tempest beneath the surface.
"Why, then, Father," she challenged, her voice quivering with emotion, "have we gathered the elves here if we have no intention of expanding? I understand your desire to protect our culture, but even if I could pass down my knowledge to every elf in this world, it doesn't guarantee the restoration of the era we so desperately desire. It was Lord Caster who shared this knowledge with me and Queen Celdia. That's why I want all the elves to follow me, to leave this place, and seek the lost glory that rightfully belongs to us."
Larfal fought to keep his composure, wrestling with his own rising anger. His voice trembled as he retorted, "So, you would lead our people into the tempting embrace of power? Pursuing knowledge inevitably leads to pursuing power, which becoming part of a familia. You know the destruction the gods have wrought for their own satisfaction. Are you willing to risk not only yourself but your entire people to become pawns in the hands of power-hungry beings like them?"
Riveria remained resolute, her conviction unwavering. "Not all gods are the same, Father! Some of them genuinely care for their familia."
Larfal took a determined step forward, his presence both commanding and compelling. "Can you guarantee that they won't eventually enslave our people, Riveria?"
In that charged moment, Riveria found herself speechless, her father's question hanging in the air, casting a shroud of uncertainty over the gathered citizens. Their collective gaze held a mix of hope and fear, doubts and anxieties about the unknown path ahead.
But then, as the silence settled like a heavy cloak, a voice erupted from the fringes of the crowd, shattering the tension. The words seized the attention of everyone present, and as Riveria's gaze turned in that direction, a surge of joy washed over her.
"What a ridiculous question!" A voice erupted from the fringes of the crowd. The words seized the attention of everyone present, and as Riveria's gaze turned in that direction, a surge of joy washed over her."Never should one judge an entire race based on a single example. King Larfal, as a wise elf monarch, shouldn't you exemplify wisdom? I expected all elves, especially those in this very forest, to share your daughter's wisdom."
The voice belonged to the red-haired goddess, Loki, who wore a mischievous grin. Flanking Loki on either side stood two distinctive figures, a dwarf and a pallum, unmistakably Gareth Landrock and Finn Diemne. As members of Loki Familia, their arrival was marked by the radiance of anticipation and excitement, lending an air of invigoration to the gathering.
Larfal, his features a mix of shock and ire, found himself caught off guard by the unexpected arrival of Loki Familia. His initial surprise swiftly gave way to mounting anger.
"General!" Larfal's voice resounded with frustration, his gaze sharply turning towards the high-ranking officer at his side. "How could they breach our defenses and infiltrate this sacred palace?"
But before the general could formulate a response, a breathless soldier rushed into the room, his demeanor marked by anxiety. He promptly knelt before Larfal, his voice trembling as he spoke, "M-My apologies, Your Majesty. They managed to defeat the defense guards and infiltrate the palace."
"What did you say?!" Larfal roared, his voice erupting with the flames of anger.
Loki, undeterred, took a confident step forward, a smirk still dancing upon his face. "I'm here to fetch your daughter. She's old enough to make her own choices, King Larfal!"
Loki's proclamation sent a wave of elation coursing through Riveria. Yet, in the blink of an eye, her father surged angrily toward the podium. His face, a canvas of fury, flushed with indignation, and his gaze emanated a profound disdain.
"You are not welcome here, Goddess Loki!" Larfal's words reverberated with a resolute firmness, the authority in his voice cutting through the tension like a sword.
Loki pouted, a mischievous glint in her eye as she idly scratched her cheek, contemplating her next words. Then, a sly grin graced her face, offering Larfal a fleeting glimpse into the true nature of the enigmatic Loki. "Even though your welcome mat might be a bit worn, we come as honored guests with the explicit approval of the young lady. Moreover, she's eager to join my familia, granting me full veto power in these hallowed grounds."
The bombshell dropped like a stone into water. Larfal's hands instinctively tightened on the balcony railing, momentarily forgetting the impending pain. Riveria herself acknowledged Loki's eccentricity—a deity prone to spouting whatever came to mind, a personality capable of inducing headaches in even the most composed.
"Even so, you have no right to it!" Larfal's retort thundered, a cascade of disgust now saturating his tone. "Let the magic arts of the elves remain in this forest, far from your hands that would tarnish them."
In response, Loki's smile faded, her usually closed eyes now open to reveal two penetrating red orbs to all the elves present. The once joyful demeanor vanished, replaced by a cunning charisma. A broad grin suddenly etched its way across her face.
"Well then, what if we unveil that secret, Princess Riveria?" Loki posed the question with a tone that was both insistent and manipulative, as if cloaking a deeper meaning behind the veil of mystery that enveloped her.
Riveria found herself momentarily caught off guard by Loki's words. Yet, within the tapestry of the deity's assertion, there seemed to be a thread of inevitability. Comprehending this, Riveria summoned a calm and graceful smile, her steps purposeful as she approached the balcony railing. In the midst of the chaos, her expression emanated an oasis of tranquility.
With a broad smile, she placed her hand delicately on her chest, an embodiment of both confidence and vulnerability. A faint nervous quiver grazed her lower lip, but Riveria, with remarkable poise, held the turbulent emotions in check.
In this moment, Riveria felt no need for a grandiloquent or charismatic speech. What she needed was a single sentence, one capable of stirring the ancient sentiments residing within every living being.
Love.
"I have a compelling reason to go with them, Father." Riveria's gaze turned toward her father, her eyes reflecting a gentleness that stood in stark contrast to her previous actions.
Larfal fell into a heavy silence, his words swallowed by the gravity of the moment. His gaze fixated on his daughter, an uncanny reflection of someone he had lost long ago. A wave of uncertainty began to seep into Larfal's body and soul.
"No, Riveria," Larfal whispered softly. "I plead with you."
Riveria shook her head, her eyes earnestly seeking Larfal's to convey emotions buried deep within her. Her hand tightly clasped her father's. This was not a speech for the people or the future of the elves; it was an intimate conversation between a daughter and her father.
"I love Lord Caster. I implore your blessing, Father," Riveria spoke with a voice as gentle as silk. A content and mature smile illuminated her face, reminiscent of a child leaving home to be with the one they love.
In this moment, Larfal was truly captivated. Unspoken emotions flooded his heart. The image of another figure intertwined with Riveria standing before him. He recalled a beautiful smile that lingered in his heart and mind—a matchless smile that adorned his world with light and liberated him from the monotony of aristocratic life.
Yet, above that smile, he saw blood.
"No," Larfal whispered sternly. "I don't want to lose you to the outside world, Riveria."
Riveria maintained her gaze on her father, her smile unwavering. "I beg you, Father."
Before Larfal could respond, Loki's voice rang out, cutting and oddly disturbingly calm. "Listen to what your daughter says, King Larfal. Listen to your heart as well."
Larfal was taken aback by the unexpected seriousness in Loki's tone. The supposed goddess of mischief spoke with an intensity that caught him off guard. Furthermore, Loki's eyes were wide open, a penetrating gaze as if those eyes sought to extract something profound from deep within his soul.
Riveria's smile, coupled with the resounding call from the goddess Loki, became the catalyst for a torrent of memories, long confined in the recesses of the king's mind. A glimmer, once deemed lost to the annals of time, resurfaced in its unadulterated brilliance.
A bitter taste insidiously crept into his mouth, a peculiar sensation that had plagued his dreams since its inception.
The taste of blood—the very same blood coursing through Riveria's veins. The weight of myriad pains etched itself onto his expression, compelling Riveria to clasp her father's hand with a newfound intensity.
"Father, I promise to return to you. That is my oath to you," Riveria declared, her voice carrying a symphony of emotions that lay buried within the depths of her heart. An echo from the past seemed to accompany her words, a personification harmonizing with the very blood and essence of the elven princess.
Larfal, caught in the maelstrom of his thoughts, swallowed slowly, contemplating an escape from the storm now raging within his mind. Yet, amidst the myriad shades of crimson staining his vision and the wounds resurfacing, a different sentiment began to unfurl.
"Allow me to be with you!" The voice of a young man reverberated in his memory, a refreshing breeze amidst the tempest in his mind.
"Wherever I go, I will always follow you, even to the ends of the world."
From the vibrant and spirited masculine voice, a feminine one emerged in response—a voice borne on the winds of recollection, delicately woven into a silk metaphor that brought Larfal back to himself.
"You are truly kind, Larfal." The voice pierced through his soul. "Very well, I accept your marriage proposal."
In the pinnacle of Larfal's existence, the birth of his cherished daughter unfolded as an ecstasy unparalleled. Yet, as he unraveled the tapestry of his realm to the world beyond, an aura of dread and suspicion coiled around him. Forbidden memories, sealed secrets, and the weight of centuries etched into each stride he took.
Amidst the mad laughter of a deity, Alinicia's demise sent shockwaves that resonated deep within Larfal's soul.
Frozen in the grip of terror and haunted by the scars of trauma, Larfal teetered on the precipice of responding to Riveria's plea. His heart yearned to draw her back into the sanctuary of the enchanted forest, shielding her from the contagion of blasphemy and decay.
Desperate to keep his daughter cocooned in safety.
Yet, before those protective words could escape his frostbitten lips, a thunderous roar echoed through the ancient woods. The earth shook beneath the colossal scream, reducing the unprepared to their knees, the unearthly resonance tearing through the heavens. Primordial terror gripped every living being.
A gust of wind, heralding impending calamity, snapped branches and shattered homes in the enchanted groves.
From the celestial heights, a gargantuan dragon descended, its roar shattering the very essence of souls. As it touched down, Riveria recognized it as the same dragon her grandfather had once conquered. But a grotesque transformation had taken hold – black fluid seeped from a pulsating mass on its head, akin to a malignant growth, transforming the majestic creature into a pulsating, living entity.
The colossal beast perched atop the palace, consuming it with each thunderous crunch. The creature's flesh pulsated with each bite, accompanied by a sickening sound that curdled the air.
"Impossible," Riveria murmured, terror coursing through her veins. It didn't take long for her to comprehend that she had summoned not just the dragon, but the abomination now fused to its form.
With a resounding roar, the dragon unleashed blinding chaos.
Riveria drove her staff into the ground, determination burning through wounds and burns that marked her magical essence. For her people, she would stand.
Next Up; A Will to Protect