"Hear ye, hear ye! All rise for Our grace, the former hand of the queen, Cecilia, Sovereign Ruler of Zion the vampire Realm"
All the people stood up in the Council as the first queen from one of the respected realms made her way to the center of the room. Cecilia was a striking beauty, with flowing dark red hair and eyes that shimmered between shades of blue and green. Her high cheekbones and pointed nose gave her an air of sharp elegance. After she gracefully took her seat at the round table, the council members kept their eyes fixed on the grand doorway, still standing in respectful silence.
"Behold, the noble king, Eren Raiden, protector of the Noreda the realm of Nymphas, the embodiment of divine right, and the beacon of justice!"
The council bowed towards Eren. Cecilia's blood boiled making her furious she wasn't greeted with the members bowing their heads but what could she expect when she was the hand of the former queen attending the duties until the crown prince came of age.
Eren nodded respectfully toward the Council and took his seat beside Cecilia, flashing a generous, kind smile. Cecilia returned the gesture with a soft nod and a smile of her own.
Despite the passage of time, Eren hadn't aged much-he still looked like he was in his thirties. With striking Silver hair and soft, pinkish lips, he was undeniably handsome, almost ethereal in his appearance.
"Behold, the beautiful queen Philodolferin Joseph, the respective ruler and Queen of the Rusrich, the realm of witches, the shine in the dark ligh gown,
Philadolferin entered the room, and once again, the Council bowed in respect, just as they had before.
She was a vision of dark beauty, her body adorned with countless tattoos that whispered stories of ancient magic and power. Her long, flowing dark hair shimmered as it caught the light, and her blood-red lips stood out against her gradually aging skin. Though wrinkles had begun to trace her features, her presence remained commanding.
As she caught sight of Eren-her long-lost, aching love-engaged in conversation with Cecilia, a soft smile curved on her lips.
A pure soul like him is always drawn to conversation, she thought wistfully.
Approaching the round table she placed her hand on Eren's shoulder and said
"It's been a while" Eren replied with his angelic voice.
"It has been, My grace" Philadelfarin sat on the round table.
"Presenting her grace, Queen Elizabeth, honourable ruler of the earth, the realm of humans"
The queen quietly took her seat at the round table alongside the other three rulers. Yet, she didn't quite blend in with them-their auras radiated immense power, almost otherworldly.
In contrast, the queen, now in her late sixties, bore the natural signs of aging. In the human world, after all, there is no miracle to halt time. Still, what she lacked in supernatural presence, she made up for with a magnetic personality that effortlessly drew people to her.
The council repeated their bow and stood still waiting for another respective king to enter the Council.
"It is an honour to introduce Alpha Zeronis Wolverine who has taken the throne of Riverdolfia the realm of werewolves not long ago, The young king among the five realms"
Zeronis went inside,everyone in the council repeated the action of courtesy towards the new king as he joined the round table.
Zeronis entered the council chamber with a quiet confidence, though a hint of nervousness lingered in his chest. Trained for this moment, he knew he was ready for the responsibilities of his new position.
His physique was impressive, a testament to years of rigorous training and discipline. Zeronis's brown-toned skin glowed under the light, contrasting sharply with his sharp features. His hair, a mix of brown and black, framed his face, complementing his piercing, dark green eyes, which seemed to absorb every detail of his surroundings.
He walked with purpose towards the round table, his presence undeniable, and took his seat, steadying himself for the discussions ahead.
"We welcome our pride, Our respective kings and Queens from all five Realms, Your graces are welcome to the council of Eldoria." the Herald shouted.
"Now We welcome the head of the council, the man who held the meeting in the round table, the powerful person who has the power of Destiny and is forbidden from disclosing them, the honourable head of our Eldoria council Fate Stark."
Fate walked into the chamber, and an undeniable aura of power and charisma surrounded him. The energy he exuded was indescribable.
Standing tall at nearly 6 feet 3 inches, Fate was a striking figure. His blonde hair caught the light, complementing his piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through time itself. His presence alone commanded attention, and his appearance was just as formidable as the immense knowledge and power he held.
Fate was no ordinary man; he was the person who could see through a persons memory.
Despite his serious attire, Fate was quite a peculiar figure. His demeanor, at first glance, might suggest a man of unyielding discipline and solemnity, fitting for someone with his immense power and knowledge. Yet, beneath that poised exterior, there was an air of unpredictability.
Fate sat on the round table and the discussion began.
"Take my love and consideration, My kings and queens. I am honoured to serve as the head of the council to the monarch of the five realms of Eldoria, I see a new face here in the monarchy. Hope Your father the former alpha is resting in peace" Fate stated looking at Zeronis.
"It is nice to meet all the honourable realm protectors. I am the son of Zoro Wolverine the Alpha and king of Riverdolfia" Fate nodded his head along with the other four.
"It has been years since we last held a meeting at the council, So let's get to the primary and crucial announcement. Everything has been peaceful in Eldoria for the last few decades. I am very pleased how you all have managed to stay true to your responsibilites and position."
Fate was enjoying the tension among them. Only Eren was the calm one. They were sure that something crucial and different was going to happen because the council doesn't call for a round table meeting for no reason. The last time was seventy years ago when an unfortunate event took place in the borders of Rusrich.
Eren asked "Are you not going to tell us Fate? The purpose of this Council meeting?"
Fate smiled at Eren "Yes, Your Grace I am, I was just observing you people's reaction. I love how I can shake you people's calm demeanour, " Fate now laughed hysterically.
"I must have been the only power in Eldoria who can still shake the Powerful Rulers in my round table meeting " Cecilia rolled her eyes at Fate.
"You know dear Fate, I have been sending beautiful vampire prostitutes to the council headquarters for you in your dire request, I can stop that if you play with our time like that" Philodolferin scoffed at Cecilia's remark.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes while Zeronis's face was filled with disgust for Fate.
"No, I request you my dear grace, Do not torment me. I am only breathing for those moments, I am the king of the chambers," Fate was smirking shamelessly.
"Can you please stop that Fate? We are not interested the slightest bit to know what mysteries lie in your chambers" Eren stated.
Zeronis nodded his head at Eren's remark.
"exactly! Despite the look you have got from dear Destiny, You are filthy and disgusting we know that, Now get back to the discussion" Philodolferin said while intertwining her fingers together on the table.
"Yeah, I would not like to get embarrassed more. So The reason for a round table meeting is to choose an emperor or an empress among yourselves basically choosing a leader among the prominent rulers." w
Elizabeth scoffed at Fate. "Is this some kind of joke?" Fate shook his head.
"No, Your Grace, These are orders from the upper side"
Philodolferin hysterically laughed. "You summoned us for this?" Fate nodded his head.
"Yes, My dear Queen," Philodolferin was furious at fate. They all were powerful rulers how can they make an emperor among themselves. The whole idea is absurd.
"You know who the Emperor and The Empress will be?" Elizabeth spoke.
"No, Your Majesty, I Don't," Fate said.
"I was told to inform all the monarchy that it will be decided by destiny itself. But all the royals must be present. The date is not finialed so I cannot say anymore details. I will write to you after discussing everything with the Elders." Fate was Enjoying the chaos too much right now.
He always loved to shake the rulers with unexpected circumstances. He liked them to suffer under his palm even though in power he had a uper hand, the five of them were rulers respected rulers, and No powers mattered to them. They all were royal blood carrying their family honour and duties.
"I am new here at the council, I know my fellow rulers well enough to choose a candidate for the Emperor or the Empress position but They do not know me enough so I cannot pitch for myself," Zeronis said attracting all the attention.
"I would want myself to be the Emperor other than anyone. I think anyone would want that for themselves. So, we need some time and consideration thinking about the worthy candidate." All the others nodded with Zeronis's Remark.
"Then select a date for the next meeting by negotiating among yourselves after you make up your mind, I will arrange another meeting for that discussion. Your graces are free to go now. I wont like to waste your times no more," Fate stood up from the chair, adjusting his cape.
"My dear grace Cecilia, please don't do injustice to me by taking this announcement into your heart. You are my best dear mate," He was about to walk off but he again looked at Cecilia
"Send the girls with the black hairs they are so good at sucking than the red ones" Cecilia just glared at him.
While others side-eyed him. Zeronis being the new member was disgusted by Fate's behaviour. They all were preparing to depart when Philodolferin crossed hands with Zeronis a gesture of showing interest in talks.
"Do not be surprised my dear Grace, He is always like this out of character but he is quite serious in his work" Zeronis nodded his head.
"You are far more calm than then your father. To be honest you are more calm than your father" Zeronis laughed at this.
"Oh my dear lord, I am honoured to share the monarchy with a handsome Alpha. Another thing is your smell is nice" Zeronies isn't surprised as he is well aware of Philodolferin and Their power of magic.
"My Queen, my actual scent is being blocked by a scent blocker, It is not compatible with Eldoria's Headquarters."
They both left by talking to themselves. The others individual departed also form their own land. Even though there seems to be friendship on the surface in the behaviours of the Rulers. There are dark Secrets, ferocity, and enmity among them only the Rulers can feel.
NOREDA [Nymphas's Realm]
The wind is blowing like usual. It is going to snow tonight, The temperature will drop by today. Still, Elvera is wearing a thin layer of clothing. The Nymphas are used to the cold but when the snow comes they wear a special layer of clothing called Xen, even though it is not so thick, it is enough for the Nymphas. Only they can tolerate cold like this because its cold twelve month a year. Nymphas are the only species in the Eldoria who can stand the cold.
Elvera's maiden came in the room closing all the windows going near the balcony door she said attracting Elvera's attention.
"My lady, Excuse me to close the balcony door and come inside" Elvera was surprised on this sudden approach of her maiden as she was in deep thought waiting for her father's return.
"Excuse you" she said as she went inside her bed chambers. The maiden closed the doors securely checking twice. She left to bring Elvera something to cover her up in the cold.
As Elvera sat on her bed, folding her clothes and humming a tune, her thoughts drifted to her father's prolonged absence. He had left on an expedition weeks ago, promising to return before the snowfall. Yet, with each passing day, her worry deepened.
Lost in her thoughts, Elvera didn't notice her maiden's return until she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. Startled, she turned to find the maid holding a xen.
"Here, my lady," the maiden said gently, offering the Xen to Elvera. "You must wear this tonight. The snowfall will be heavy, and the temperature will drop even further."
Elvera nodded, taking the Xen gratefully. As she slipped it on, the warmth gave her peace, a inrting embrace against the cold weather of the night, "Thank you," she whispered, her voice that holds gratitude,
The maiden smiled softly, her eyes reflecting a deep sense of loyalty and devotion. "It is my duty to ensure your comfort and safety, my lady," she replied.
With the Xen wrapped around her, Elvera felt a sense of reassurance wash over her. No matter how fierce the storm outside, she knew she was protected, surrounded by the unwavering care of her loyal people.
"Bella, Do you know when Father will arrive? " Elvera asked in a low tone.
"yes, My dear lady, He will come before the dawn, It Will be late, it is best if you met your grace in morning" Elvera nodded her head.
As the first snow flakes began to drift lazily from the sky, Elvera settled onto her bed, her worries momentarily forgotten. Tonight, she would sleep soundly, knowing that her father was finally returning after two days.
ZION [THE VAMPIRE REALM]
"My lord, it is time to go for the ceremony."
Xyran nodded silently, adjusting the dark velvet cape clasped across his shoulder with a silver fang-shaped brooch. His servant bowed low and retreated wordlessly into the corridor, the sound of his footsteps fading into the echoing halls of the obsidian palace.
Prince Xyran stood tall, his presence commanding yet quiet like the midnight sky. His skin was pale as moonlight-a trait he had inherited from his mother-smooth and almost luminous beneath the flicker of torchlight. His eyes, a striking shade of jade green, held the sharpness of buried sorrow. Black hair, thick and unruly, framed his chiseled features-his only inheritance from the father he barely remembered.
He was, without question, unworldly in his handsomeness.
Throughout Zion's long royal history, there had been many men of remarkable beauty-nobles and kings whose charm was whispered about in songs and stories. Yet none rivaled the sheer allure of Xyran.
He was the pinnacle of the bloodline, the most handsome man ever to walk the heart of Zion. His beauty was not just in his face, but in the way he carried centuries of sorrow, strength, and legacy in every silent step.
Left alone, Prince Xyran turned his attention to the intricately carved ebony box resting on the pedestal before him. The lid lay open, and within it, nestled in folds of black silk, sat the Apatite of Voltor-an ancient relic that pulsed with a steady green glow. The light shimmered like moonlight dancing over deep waters, casting a soft gleam across Xyran's pale fingers as he reached for it.
He hesitated, his hand hovering above the stone.
His mother had once told him, "Only those born of true royal blood can hold it without consequence. The stone knows the truth your blood dares not hide."
Today, as the remembrance ceremony of his mother approached, the weight of that truth pressed heavier than he felt.
Xyran was born into silence and loss. His father, had been perished when Xyran was only seven-a death shrouded in secrecy and grief. His mother, Queen Seraphyne, had never recovered. She spent the last years of her life mourning for the king.
By the time Xyran was eleven, an unknown illness had taken her life, leaving him orphaned among thrones and shadows.
He had been a child surrounded by silence.
It was Cecilia who stepped forward-not as a ruler, but as a guardian. Once the Hand of the Queen, she became something far more, his protector, his mentor, and in many ways, the only family he had left. She shielded him from the claws of court politics and taught him to wield his grief like a blade.
He inhaled slowly and touched the Apatite.
Warmth surged into his hand, flowing up his arm like liquid light. The stone responded-accepting him.
No rejection. No punishment. Just recognition. He closed his fingers around it, then shut the box and tucked it carefully beneath his cloak.
The corridor beyond his chambers was dimly lit by torchlight, the flames bowing as he passed, casting flickering shadows that whispered memories of the past. The palace was silent, as if the walls themselves remembered the queen who once ruled within them.
Tonight, in the heart of the Hall of Thorns, he would stand before the nobles of Zion-not as a grieving son, but as a prince honoring the legacy of a mother taken too soon like the past years.
Xyran entered the Hall of Thrones, his footsteps echoing through the vast chamber carved from crimson marble. Towering pillars lined the walls, each etched with the names of fallen monarchs, their legacies immortalized in blood-forged script.
At the center of the hall stood the high priest of Zion, he bowed low.
"Your Grace," the priest greeted Xyran, his voice reverent. "We honor your presence. The blood moon rises, and the realm remembers."
Xyran gave a silent nod and stepped forward. The gathered nobles of the court bowed in unison as he passed-an ocean of shadows parting before their prince. All eyes watched him, yet none dared meet his gaze for long.
The ceremony began.
Chants echoed through the hall, deep and resonant. The priest lifted the Book of Mourning, reciting verses in the old tongue-words meant to guide the departed through the veils of the afterlife. As the final chant faded, a bowl of blackened silver was placed before the altar.
Xyran unsheathed the Dagger kept on his waist, its blade gleaming faintly with enchantments known only to the royal bloodline. He sliced across his palm with practiced precision, letting a single drop of blood fall into the bowl.
"For Queen Seraphyne Kate Nova," the priest declared, "whose soul now rests beneath the Veil of Crimson Stars. May her memory guide the future, and may her blood live on through you, her son, Our Majesty Prince Xyran Arien Nova."
Xyran placed the Apatite of Voltor on the altar. The relic glowed brighter for a moment, reacting to the blood-the recognition of royal lineage sealed before the eyes of the court.
A moment of silence followed.
Then, the choir began again-low, haunting. The Hall of Thrones filled with the sound of loss and legacy. Xyran did not move. He stood tall, his expression unreadable.