A month before the event, a situation had quietly rippled across the continent of Spheraphase. Dynasty Richinaria had summoned all recognized Dynasties and Royal Houses to a gathering unlike any other from across the world.
The call had not been mandatory but its weight could be felt across the world for the Richinarias had long stood as a beacon of neutrality, untainted by inter-dynastic power struggles. They never interfered and yet, in that very restraint, they commanded the respect of all beings alike. The location for this monumental convergence was the Richinaria Palace, an island suspended above the futuristic skyline of Rise Borough. From the skies above, it looked like a divine palace hovering in the heavens.
No being was forced to attend. No Dynastic representative was pressured. In fact, the invitation even included the means to come and go.Teleportation Circles were embedded into the palace infrastructure, allowing Dynasties and Kingdoms to retreat to their homelands if urgent matters arose, and return when ready. It was to be quite literally a diplomatic vacation. Days would melt into weeks as monarchs, matriarchs and Divine progeny mingled in a comfortable environment. Titles were recognized of course, but what mattered most here was presence. To stand in the Palace of Richinaria was to symbolically agree to peace, at least for the duration of the event.
Dynasty Richinaria rarely, if ever, hosted anything of this nature. In the past, they remained reclusive. Their allegiance to Anqerise, the most technologically advanced continent in Spheraphase, defined their identity. They weren't warriors like the Skyrovers, nor were they bonded like the dark beings of Hanabas, nor strategically brutal like the Fedres. They were visionaries.
And precisely because of that, every Dynasty took their invitation seriously.
Especially with the rise of technological symbiosis between Richinaria and the Kingdom of Amaniya, the call to converge took on more meaning. Amaniya, the ever-gleaming jewel of Anqerise, was renowned as the world's living utopia, a marvel of mysticism and machinery. Its Immortal Humans lived centuries without aging past their prime, blessed by the Dynasty itself. Yet only the most elite could reside in its Borough of Rise.
Even Rise was split into two.
Upper Rise was where the Immortal elite and their descendants lived in skyscrapers and lush life. Lower Rise was golden cradle of the lesser elite. They were still powerful, but not on the level of those above Despite the name, it was still a paradise. Lower Rise's average citizen had power and resources that rivaled most noble houses in Spheraphase. The Richinaria Palace floated directly above this divide, symbolically untouched by the class structures below, yet deeply aware of them.
Of course, the meeting was not limited to Dynasties alone. Invitations were extended to the Royal Courts of every kingdom and territory recognized under the Dynasties. That included kings, queens and blessed rulers from lands far-flung and legendary.
All attendees were drawn in by curiosity and respect but some came simply for diplomacy, eager to strengthen ties with Richinaria, a Dynasty whose advancements in technology far advanced than theirs them more valuable than gold.
If Richinaria were anything but neutral, this meeting would have turned political instantly. Dynasties like Cerea or Vazakiel would never attend if it were a power move. But the Richinaria creed "to lead without interfering, to innovate without conquest, and to protect without allegiance", was globally recognized. The Richinarias had never conquered a single territory. They had no standing armies in foreign lands or their own. And yet everyone knew. If they wanted to, they could. Their neutrality wasn't weakness. It was the most terrifying form of strength.
This gathering marked the beginning of something new. For the first time, the Divine Dynasties were willingly sitting at the same table, beneath the same roof, with no threat of war, no pressing cataclysm and no gods forcing their hand.
And that alone made history.
For Spheraphase was evolving. What the Richinaria Dynasty offered was not just peace, but possibility.
And though the agenda was officially unannounced, everyone suspected this.
Vastarael Richinaria, the Aeterium Monarch, had something to say.
°°°°°°°
At one of the mid-altitude hangar bays spiraling around the palace where floating platforms hovered to receive incoming guests, the first arrivals had come. A circular ripple in space twisted open above one of the hangars, unveiling a sleek, matte-black spaceship, shaped like an elongated hawk's feather. It descended softly.
The side hatch of the ship slid open with a soft chime.
From the glowing threshold, two figures emerged, regal in poise and dressed in robes laced. The King of Amaniya, Xerelion Aethvex, stepped forth. He was tall, sharp-featured and silver-haired. Beside him, his wife and Queen, Callisare Mirane Aethvex, bore an ageless presence. She was clad in a woven gown that shifted colors depending on angle and light. She wore a crown embedded with floating gemstones that hovered just above her temples.
They were followed by a procession of elite Immortal Humans and their royal family.
Moments later, soft bells echoed across the air as seven majestic carriages floated in gracefully. Each carriage was carved from whitewood, a sacred, glowing material born from the roots of the World Tree. The trees themselves granted the wood only to those of the Elven Council and Dynasty Mintheris.
Drawn by radiant stags with antlers of light, the carriages circled the palace once before descending in coordinated harmony. As they landed upon the waiting platforms, their doors slid open.
From each, one of the Seven High Elves of the Mintherian Council stepped forward, cloaked in ceremonial robes colored by the seasons they each represented. From spring green to winter silver, each robe was a story of their region and responsibility. Their names whispered across generations—Lunavar, Caedun, Thyelari, Estimere, Seryna, Qelreth, and Vaewis. Beside them came their consorts, kin, and guards.
A column of violet flame split the sky next. A large prismatic floating disk appeared, wide as a ballroom and gleaming with runes on its underbelly. It was a collaborative artifact created by dozens of Spheraphase's minor races, a literal testament to the union that birthed the Ineracia Kingdom. From the center of the disk, the King of Ineracia, King Tervanik Dros Malnon, emerged. He was a phoenix descendant. He wore crimson ceremonial robes adorned with symbols of every race represented in the kingdom.
Beside him, the Queen, Zyaria Wen Malnon, a Featherkin with wings of moon-pale silver and eyes that changed with her emotions, stood tall in her regal plumage gown. She radiated calm diplomacy, her smile disarming even the coldest of monarchs.
Behind them came a colorful crowd of gnomes, orcish generals in decorated garb, scaled serpent humanoid advisers, winged avians, feline folk, and others, all working in concert under one banner. Ineracia's strength was its unity and here, it showed.
A mist rolled in, covering part of the palace in sea-scented fog. From the center of a conjured water orb, the Royal Vessel of Hydroborn Kingdom shimmered into view. An ship made of translucent coral, infused with mysticism and technology, drifted into the hangar in total silence.
Two figures swam through the orb before stepping onto the solidified mist.
King Qelryas Vael'Mirethe, a regal Hydroborn with cascading sea blue hair bore a tunic forged from scales. Every movement of his form caused ripples to follow him. Queen Sopelne Ys'Fae Vael'Mirethe, an ethereal Nereid with skin like deep-sea pearl, wore a flowing robe made from seawater suspended in elemental pwer. Her voice was rumored to echo like song through the ocean's trenches and her presence alone made the moisture in the air hum with vitality.
Their court included Hydroborns who emerged with wide eyes and elegant steps. They looked at the sky with wonder, which was so different from the eternal oceans they called home.
They all stood in a circle on the hangar looking at each other. Though none of them had said a word yet, their presence had already begun to shift the atmosphere.