A Teleportation Circle glowed at the peak of the hangar. The Circle pulsed once and then came the arrival. From the heart of that light stepped a figure whose presence caused the winds to hush.
He emerged in silence.
A tall man, young by face but bearing the quiet weight of centuries in his gaze, walked towards them. Vastarael Richinaria, the current Dynasty Monarch of Richinaria, stood at last before the gathering kings and queens of Anqerise. He wore a ceremonial deep charcoal and ivory white royal gown. A royal white cape flowed behind him. His long, snow-white curly hair had been tied in a single, elegant braid that crossed his right shoulder and lay proudly against his chest.
His eyes were the mix of sapphire and gold. And his dark bronze skin only enhanced what many never dared to speak aloud. He was the spitting image of his father, a man who had once shaped fate itself but even more handsome and composed.
Yet, the awe did not end there. At his side walked a woman who bent perception with her mere presence.
She wore a regal gown of gold and black garnet lace, split with asymmetrical cuts that blended elegance with defiance. Her long hair was both white and dark, literally flowing behind her like a smoky veil as if spun from light and shadow. Two pristine white dragon horns curved subtly from her crown and her bronze skin held the faint, shifting gleam of alabaster scales.
Every monarch gathered felt it immediately. She was a dragon. Together, they descended from the circle as the light faded behind them, walking in perfect step. The moment they stopped in front of them, the kings and queens of Anqerise dropped to one knee in reverence not because protocol demanded it but because presence did.
They had heard rumors. Everyone had.
Richinaria had sent their heir away to Minafallen Academy. He had become a recluse, obsessed with rebuilding his Dynasty anew and himself too. He had been seen twice in twenty-seven years. Once at four, once at seventeen and never again until now.
He smiled.
"There is no need to kneel. I am a Dynasty Monarch, not a Deity"
The leaders slowly rose, exchanging quick glances as though checking they had all experienced the same unspoken presence. Still, none dared to ask aloud what they already felt. They could feel the subtle divine aura hidden beneath his skin. He was a Third Enlightenment Divine, yes. That much was known, but he did not feel like one.
"I welcome you all, Sovereigns of Anqerise," he said, lifting one arm to introduce the woman beside him. "This is Asenane Richinaria, my wife and Monarchess of the Dynasty. She is also the First of Her lineage, a Progenitor Dragon."
Asenane gave a graceful nod, her hand elegantly locked into the crook of Vastarael's arm.
"May your kingdoms thrive, and your skies remain blue."
Though brief, her words curled into the hearts of those who heard it. There was power in her tone. Vastarael took another step forward.
"You've all traveled far. The Richinaria Palace offers hospitality unrivaled, and its halls are open to those who uphold peace. Are you comfortable walking or would you prefer a direct teleportation to the palace grounds?"
None answered immediately. There was a pause, like everyone had to mentally recalibrate. He was... kind?
King Xerelion Aethvex of Amaniya, an immortal human whose stern silver eyes rarely blinked without calculation, nodded once.
"We'll walk. It would honor us."
"A wise choice. There is a garden en route that just entered its bloom phase. You may enjoy the view."
And so they walked. The kings and queens began to converse more comfortably now, drawn in by Vastarael's charisma. The Amaniyan queen, Callisare Mirane, turned to Vastarael.
"You honor us with your presence, Esteemed Highness. But may I ask, why not delegate this greeting to your Grand Duchess? The Dynasties hold power that even the thrones of Anqerise may struggle to match."
"Dynasty or not, Queen Callisare, the hearts Richinaria beats for reside in this continent first. You are the pillars of Anqerise and we live under the same sky. If I welcomed a Dynasty first, even in courtesy, some might believe we have forsaken our neutrality."
They were silent for a moment. Then King Tervanik of Interacia murmured,
"Neutral, but never naive. Clever."
Queen Sopelne of the Hydroborn added, "And kind. It's been long since kindness ruled a dynasty."
Asenane chuckled faintly, leaning closer to Vastarael, her voice low but affectionate.
"That's because he was raised to care for his people first."
Vastarael nodded. "And if I've learned anything in my years, it's that power does not need to prove itself. It simply is. Let others posture. I prefer action."
The walk continued.
"I only ask one thing from you," he said, halting just as they reached the stone arch that led to the palace grounds. "We do not wield politics as weapons. Not here, not now."
The gathered rulers turned to him, some brows lifting in intrigue, others furrowed as though startled that such a gentle request had been made so directly.
"This occasion is not a summit, nor a congress. It is not a convocation of treaties, disputes nor alignments. It is a moment for unity and see the faces behind the titles. It's for us to walk the halls beside one another as people, not pawns. Politics will have their time and I will not avoid that hour. But let us first be known to each other as rulers, as peers and perhaps, even as companions."
The group remained silent for a heartbeat longer. It was Queen Zyaria of Interacia who nodded first. Then came the High Elves of Mintheris, and then King Qelryas of the Hydroborn, folding his arms.
"A sentiment we would do well to remember," said King Xerelion Aethvex of Amaniya. "Politics without people is just war in a suit."
With that, they crossed the grand arch that separated the courtyard from the Palace Grounds. And just beyond the threshold, they saw them.
Dynasty Mintheris.
The Dynasty Monarch, Monarchess, Grand Duke and Supreme Commander were coming out of carriages. But leading them all front and center was a serene figure. Elyonari Mintheris.
Her hands were folded before her, her eyes cast gently downward. But every gaze was drawn to her. Like the eldest petal of the first bloom of spring, she embodied Mintherenia itself. Walking opposite them, on the path just beside the garden's central axis, was Vastarael and his guests.
The moment of convergence was wordless.
As was custom, the Mintherian Council halted. And in silent, sacred gesture, each of the Seven High Elves gave a deep bow not to Vastarael, but to the Dynasty Monarch of Mintheris, who now approached in quiet reverence from the southern corridor. He was tall and lithe, his silver-laced hair adorned with vines that shimmered with the sap of the World Tree. He did not speak. He simply walked past, his head slightly dipped. Elyonari paused, allowed him to pass without a glance, and then moved again.
But right as the two groups crossed, one entering and the other exiting, Elyonari turned her head and winked. It was quick but unmistakable. The group of monarchs halted briefly, caught in the moment. And then came Vastarael's reply. He winked back.
The rulers of Anqerise stood quietly, eyes darting between the two. Queen Sopelne of the Hydroborn tilted her head slightly. Caedun of the Elven Council lifted a brow. Zyaria of Interacia narrowed her eye. The moment passed as quickly as it came. Vastarael continued forward, speaking once more about the halls of the palace and the garden tour they would take. But now, the air was subtly different.
Because now they were wondering.
Who was Elyonari Mintheris to Vastarael Richinaria? And perhaps more importantly, how much did they already know about each other?