The sun began its slow, majestic descent over the western horizon of the Aethera Continent, casting a tapestry of deep oranges and bruised purples that reflected brilliantly off the arched crystalline surface of the Solar Prism of Zenith. Dayat stood for a moment at the edge of the ancient wooden railing, allowing the gentle Vaelith breeze to sweep across his face. The view from this peak was undeniable in its grandeur, yet he knew the time for silent awe had passed. Below him, in the heart of the Emerald Palace, a pivotal banquet awaited—a diplomatic stage that promised to be far more treacherous than any physical battle against a rampaging Golem.
"Master, the time for departure has arrived. Palace protocol dictates that we must be present before the sounding of the fifth bell," Dola's clinical voice shattered the silence. His assistant stood with perfect posture, her electric-blue eyes mirroring the rainbow hues emanating from the prism above them.
