The sun had barely risen when Pyranthos Palace stirred with anticipation. Crimson banners bearing the ancient sigil of the firebird fluttered along the palace gates, and enchanted flames danced on tall braziers that lined the marble steps. The kingdom buzzed with the energy of something historic: the Royal Elemental Gathering.
In the heart of the palace, Princess Mira stood before the sacred mirror chamber, flanked by her twin maids, Iona and Selene, who were fussing with the final touches of her ceremonial attire. Her long garnet robes shimmered with molten embroidery, and her crown, forged from volcanic crystal, rested lightly atop her dark curls. Her eyes, luminous with streaks of ember, scanned her reflection with practiced poise. But inside, Mira was a storm of questions.
"You look as if you could burn the heavens," Selene said, stepping back to admire her.
"Or perhaps set them on fire just to watch who dares extinguish it," Iona added with a grin.
Mira chuckled softly, though her mind was far from ease. For years she had trained in the arts of diplomacy, strategy, and combat, bearing the weight of Pyranthos' legacy on her shoulders. But nothing had prepared her for this: a parade of suitors from across the elemental realms, each vying for her hand, each bringing with them political alliances, danger, and the unpredictable stirrings of fate.
As she left the chamber, the palace announcers began their procession.
"Presenting Crown Prince Zephyr of Caelum, heir of the Air Dominion!"
The doors opened to reveal a tall, silver-haired prince descending from a glider shaped like a bird of wind. He landed with the grace of a feather, his icy blue eyes locking with Mira's for a brief, assessing moment.
Next came, "Duke Thorne of Gaiaris, the Iron Roots. Earth-born and battle-tested."
He stepped forward with armor made of moving stone plates, each footstep shaking the marbled floor ever so slightly. His stare was one of challenge, not romance.
"Prince Lysandros of Oceanea, High Son of the Water Court."
He glided in on a flowing wave, a cloak of seafoam trailing behind him. His expression held a smirk, but beneath the charm was an unsettling calm.
More followed: Arion of Tempestria with his crackling electric gauntlets; Princess Nyra of Noctaria, cloaked in moonlight, representing the rare Shadow affinity; and several minor nobility from elemental bloodlines.
Mira sat on the Flame Throne beside her father, King Ronan of Pyranthos, whose proud eyes watched the gathering like a seasoned general surveying a battlefield.
"Remember, Mira," he said under his breath. "This is not just a courtship. It is diplomacy wrapped in myth and danger. Choose wisely."
She nodded, her eyes drifting back to the suitors. And then, he arrived.
"Introducing Jaxon Thalor, unclaimed heir of the Forgotten Tides."
The room fell into murmurs. The Thalors were legends—descendants of the deepest sea gods, thought to have vanished centuries ago.
He walked in, clad in dark, dripping silk that smelled of storms. His eyes were not merely blue—they were oceanic, vast and unknowable. As he passed by Mira, she felt a pull, like a tide responding to fire.
She straightened in her seat. She'd seen him before.
In dreams.
To be continued...