[: 3rd POV :]
Ever since Caelira had reclaimed her peak strength and the Crown of Sylvae had willingly returned to its rightful bearer.
The aftermath of her resurgence began spreading through the heart of the Elf Continent like am
It was only a single day after her return when everything began to shift.
Whispers carried by the winds, flickers of unnatural energy in the atmosphere.
It was signs that something ancient, something once lost, had returned.
But none yet knew the truth.
Inside the Grand Throne Hall of the Elf's Heart, the sacred palace of the Empress—tension thickened like a choking mist.
At the head of the room stood the Empress's throne, tall and adorned with leaves of moonsteel and starlit bark.
Beneath it, the twelve seats curved in a crescent, these were the Council of Twelve Roots, the most powerful political figures below the Empress herself.
And those seated within it did not wear humility upon their faces.
