April 29th, 1810 — New York, United Kingdom of America
As the days passed, a private meeting was called.
One between close friends — not emperors, not rulers — but men who wished, at least for a moment, to speak honestly about the future of humanity.
The buzzing streets of New York rang endlessly in the ears of Emperor Thorfine Flashstride and Emperor Graviil Ivanovich. The city was alive in a way few capitals truly were: loud, restless, and unaware of just how much power walked its streets that day.
Both emperors were dressed in simple, casual clothing, carefully chosen to let them disappear into the crowd. No banners. No escorts. No symbols of authority. Revealing their identities here would not bring admiration — only chaos.
They hadn't come alone.
They had been invited.
As they approached a large stone fountain, water flowing steadily toward its center, a lone figure waited nearby. Relaxed. Smiling. Entirely too comfortable for a man standing before two emperors.
Cedric Ravenshadow.
Better known to the public as Principal Cedric, Headmaster of the Pennsylvania Royal Academy.
"Yo!" Cedric called out, lifting a hand in greeting, his grin wide and unbothered. "Took you guys long enough."
Graviil let out a light chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry. It's been a while since I've had the freedom to walk around like this. I might've… wandered a bit."
"No worries," Cedric replied easily. His eyes swept over them, amusement flickering. "But I have to say — those clothes suit you. Haven't seen either of you dress this casually in ages. You both look ridiculous."
He pointed at Thorfine and burst out laughing.
Thorfine's expression barely changed, though a vein pulsed faintly at his temple. "Don't push it, Cedric," he said calmly — too calmly. "Get to the point. Why bring us all the way here, far from our nations? I don't have time to waste."
Cedric raised an eyebrow. "'No time to waste?'" He scoffed. "That's rich, coming from the fastest human alive."
Graviil broke first, laughing openly.
Thorfine clicked his tongue in irritation.
Cedric laughed along with Graviil before straightening up, forcing himself to breathe. "Alright, alright. My bad. I'll get to it." He gestured vaguely down the street. "But first — let's walk. No destination. Just… around."
Thorfine stared at him. "You're joking."
Cedric stepped forward and slapped Thorfine on the back, playful but firm. "Come on. Since when do I need a reason to spend time with my friends?"
The words lingered.
For a brief moment, none of them spoke.
Graviil was the first to break the silence, his voice quieter. "He's right. When was the last time we did something like this — without titles hanging over our heads?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Cedric replied, satisfied.
Thorfine sighed, long and tired. Then nodded. "Fine. An hour. Maybe two." He paused, then added, softer, "Moments like this don't come often anymore."
"That's the spirit!" Cedric cheered.
They began walking.
For a time, none of them spoke.
The city filled the silence instead — birds chirping overhead, the rhythmic clatter of horse-drawn carriages, the hiss and rumble of early steam cars passing by. Children laughed as they ran through the streets, unaware of the quiet weight walking among them.
Then — in the blink of an eye — all three stopped.
They locked eyes.
Their expressions sharpened.
And in an instant, they vanished from sight, reappearing several paces away in an open space. Arms raised. Hands poised.
"Scissors."
"Scissors."
"Paper…"
Graviil froze.
He lost.
"Hahaha!" Cedric and Thorfine burst out laughing, pointing without mercy.
The ritual was ancient — at least to them.
Whenever a decision had to be made, or responsibility assigned, this was how it was settled. Whoever lost would be declared the adult for the day. Paying for everything. Taking the blame for any disaster. Obeying every ridiculous command the others gave.
Childish.
Humiliating.
Unbreakable.
A tradition sealed long ago — half joke, half oath.
"You lost!" Cedric shouted, barely able to breathe from laughter. "This is perfect! You're doing everything we say today!"
"This is going to be gold," Thorfine added smugly.
Graviil sighed, though a smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while you can."
"Keep telling yourself that," Thorfine shot back.
Without warning, Cedric pulled both of them into a crushing bear hug, dragging them forward as he started walking again. "Come on! Our great day has officially begun."
Graviil glanced sideways. "You know, Natalia definitely inherited her quirks from you."
"Agreed," Thorfine said.
Cedric laughed. "I could say the same about both of you."
He paused.
"Violet."
"Ragnar."
Then, glancing at Thorfine, he added, "Though less so for you. Your grumpy old-man attitude is the complete opposite of your grandson's chaos."
"Oh, shut it," Thorfine muttered.
Graviil laughed as the two bickered.
Their figures slowly disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the city — their responsibilities momentarily left behind, and their 'great day' only just beginning.
----------------------------------------
Moments passed by.
They talked. Laughed. Argued over nothing. Ate food from every corner of the city — with Graviil paying, of course. They played games with civilians and children they happened to meet, ran through streets they didn't know by name, helped those in need when they crossed their path, and pulled harmless pranks on unsuspecting victims — acts wholly unbefitting of their age, their status, and the weight they carried.
They did all kinds of ridiculous, wonderful things.
For the first time in a long while, they were simply together.
And as always, time showed them no mercy.
Before they realized it, dawn had arrived. The deep blue of night bled slowly into scarlet, the rising sun painting the sky as its rays descended upon the waking city.
Their final stop was a small bakery, its windows still fogged with warmth, before they turned toward the Pennsylvania Royal Academy.
By the time they arrived, the grounds were quiet. Lectures had long since ended. Most students had returned to their homes, leaving only those asleep within the dormitories and a handful of staff members preparing for the coming day.
Cedric walked through the academy gates with ease, greeting every staff member they passed with a familiar smile. The respect was mutual — effortless, earned. Eventually, they reached the grand doors of the Headmaster's bureau.
Oddly enough, Cedric knocked.
Even though it was his own office.
When the doors opened, a figure stood waiting inside.
Lady Faelwen Brightmind.
One of the finest teachers the academy had ever known.
Her long, dark-purple hair was neatly tucked behind one pointed elven ear, her expression calm, composed. Her eyes carried a quiet brilliance, and despite the weight of years she had lived, her face and figure remained strikingly youthful — timeless, in a way only elves could be.
"Greetings, Headmaster," Lady Faelwen said gracefully, lowering her head in reverence. "And greetings to thee, great emperors — Graviil Ivanovich, Thorfine Flashstride."
"It is an honor to stand before you both."
Graviil and Thorfine inclined their heads in return, offering the same respect. They had seen her before, on rare occasions — yet even now, her presence left an impression.
Cedric broke the silence by stepping forward and handing her a warm paper bag.
Chocolate-stuffed mini-cakes — still warm.
He had bought them specifically for her, knowing all too well her unshakable sweet tooth. A small gesture, but a familiar one.
"Oh!" Lady Faelwen exclaimed softly, surprised. "Why, thank you, Headmaster."
"It's nothing," Cedric replied casually.
He moved to his desk and took his seat. Graviil and Thorfine settled onto the sofas opposite him, while Lady Faelwen stood at Cedric's side. The air shifted — lighter moments giving way to purpose.
"Now that we've had our fun," Cedric said calmly, "I think it's time I explain why I brought you both here."
The emperors said nothing, listening.
"I'm aware of what transpired at the grand meeting between the major powers not long ago," Cedric continued. "Emperor Raginald informed me the day after."
He paused.
"And I won't lie — it shook me."
His fingers tightened briefly atop the desk. "I know His Majesty considers me one of his most trusted advisors. Still… never did I imagine the day would come when the name of the Mad Titan — Emperor Julius — would be spoken again with such urgency."
His voice lowered.
"To think that creature now walks free…"
The room fell silent.
Graviil and Thorfine remained still, hearing not just his words, but the fear beneath them. Cedric was no coward — if anything, that made his unease all the more troubling.
Cedric went on, explaining how he had spoken with Lady Faelwen afterward, entrusting her with the full truth of the situation.
When he finished, Thorfine finally spoke. "Then tell us plainly," he said. "Why are we here? We understand your concern — but time is not a luxury we possess. We are already struggling to safeguard the chosen heroes foretold by the Blind Oracle."
"That," Cedric replied evenly, "is exactly why you're here."
Thorfine frowned. "What?"
"There's a reason I told Lady Faelwen everything," Cedric continued. "I wouldn't burden anyone with knowledge this dangerous without purpose."
"Go on," Graviil said quietly, his gaze fixed, attentive.
Cedric nodded. "Lady Faelwen is among the few I trust completely. Together, we discussed a solution — one both promising and perilous."
"A way," he continued, "to protect the heroes while they're still vulnerable. To keep them from meeting death before they ever have the chance to grow."
"And we believe the only viable option…"
He paused, letting the weight settle.
"…is to send them somewhere far beyond repeated danger."
"Somewhere beyond this world."
The silence thickened.
"A different realm," Cedric finished. "One with its own laws, its own protections."
Lady Faelwen's voice joined his, steady and resolute.
"The Elven Realm."
The atmosphere shattered.
Graviil and Thorfine froze, disbelief etched into their expressions. A different world. An entirely separate realm.
Such a proposal wasn't merely dangerous.
It was unthinkable.
"Don't be ridiculous, Cedric," Thorfine cut in, his voice sharp, edged with venom. "You of all people know that such a thing is impossible — even if we wanted it to be."
"I have to agree with him," Graviil added, his brow furrowed, genuine concern seeping through his words. "This isn't just risky. It sounds insane. This kind of proposal… it's unlike you, Cedric. Are you certain you're well?"
"I'm fine," Cedric replied calmly, brushing aside their worries without hesitation. "And I'm fully aware of how it sounds. But after everything Lady Faelwen and I discussed, this was the only conclusion that remained logically sound."
"Then it's flawed," Thorfine shot back immediately.
"Not entirely," Cedric countered. "Sending them to a different realm aligns perfectly with how desperate the situation has become."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Think about it. Instead of scattering them across human nations — vulnerable, inconsistent, exposed — they would be protected under a single, powerful realm. A place no sane force would dare invade without guaranteeing its own annihilation."
Cedric turned toward Lady Faelwen and gave a small nod. A silent signal.
She stepped forward, composed, and cleared her throat.
"I trust you both remember the diplomatic accord between the human race and the elven race," she began, her tone measured. "The one that involved me, over a decade ago."
She clasped her hands lightly.
"To strengthen relations, humanity offered its most treasured cultural and historical records. In return, the elves sent one of their own — an observer. Someone to live among humans, to study their customs, their behaviors, their bonds… and to experience their world firsthand."
"A diplomatic exchange," she finished.
Both emperors nodded slowly.
"We remember it well," Thorfine replied. "It marked the first true attempt to break away from the hatred our ancestors clung to. The United Kingdom of America accepted the responsibility — and it has paid dividends. Relations with the Elven Kingdom have only improved since."
Lady Faelwen smiled faintly, encouraged, and continued.
"That is precisely why Principal Cedric and I reached the conclusion we did. The only viable way to protect the chosen heroes is to send them to the Elven Realm — under the guise of a similar diplomatic act."
Silence.
Graviil and Thorfine stared at her, stunned.
It wasn't reckless.
It wasn't absurd.
It was… brilliant.
Why hadn't they thought of it themselves? Had they truly been so consumed by urgency that they never formed a concrete plan at all?
Lady Faelwen continued, her voice gaining quiet conviction.
"By framing this as a once-in-a-generation exchange, we can send human children to a realm where humans do not exist — without provoking fear or outrage from the public. At the same time, we ensure their safety and allow them to grow in an environment where danger cannot easily reach them."
"They would remain there until they are ready," she said. "Old enough. Strong enough. Until the world can finally see them for what they are meant to become."
She paused, then added,
"And it would not be built on lies alone. This exchange would further strengthen human–elven relations. It would allow us to observe how human children grow when raised alongside those unlike themselves."
Her eyes softened.
"Perhaps… it could be the first step toward erasing the hatred and prejudice that still linger between our realms. Change must begin with the young — because they are the future."
The two monarchs sat in stunned silence.
Then Graviil exhaled slowly.
He understood.
Percival would never dare assault an entire realm alone, even with the grand army and advanced technology he has at his disposal. Plus, the elves were no fragile race — far from it. Each carried gifts humanity lacked, strengths forged into their very nature.
Protected. Hidden. Growing.
Graviil felt a faint smile tug at his lips.
Magnificent.
Thorfine broke the silence at last.
"Hm. I'll admit it, I was wrong," he said slowly. "I like your idea."
Cedric looked up.
"But," Thorfine continued, his tone sharpening again, "I'm not naïve enough to believe the other emperors will share that enthusiasm so easily." His eyes hardened with resolve. "Still — that won't stop us. If convincing them means dealing with furious councils and enraged nations, then so be it."
He leaned back slightly.
"Besides," he added, "sending the heroes to the Elven Realm has another advantage. I've heard… stories. About the elven royal family, and the knightly familia sworn to serve them. Warriors who would gladly give their lives without hesitation."
Graviil turned toward him, thoughtful. "I've heard similar rumors. They say both the Emperor and Empress are Monarch-core Gifteds."
His eyes narrowed with curiosity rather than fear.
"Considering the elven race ages far slower than we humans… I wonder how they compare to us, the Four Great Monarchs of Humanity."
Thorfine met his gaze, a cunning smirk creeping across his face. "I've wondered the same thing," he said quietly. "Truth be told, I've always wanted to cross blades with someone from another race."
Cedric stared at them, then let out a strained chuckle. "Don't tell me you two still haven't changed after all these years," he said. "Are you still that battle-hungry?"
"Not at all," the two monarchs replied in unison.
"We're merely intrigued," Graviil added calmly.
"Exactly," Thorfine agreed. "Those reckless, blissful days are long behind us. I doubt my current self would even threaten my prime."
Graviil laughed, shaking his head. "We've grown soft," he said. "That's what having a family does to a man."
The three friends laughed together — loud, genuine, and unguarded.
Lady Faelwen, who had been watching quietly, smiled before speaking.
"You need not worry, Great Monarchs," she said gently. "I truly believe the Elven Emperor and Empress are among the strongest beings alive today — perhaps the strongest. Not including the Herrschers, of course."
Her gaze held steady.
"I doubt any human could truly threaten them."
She paused, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Though… I suspect that thought does little to discourage either of you."
Thorfine chuckled. "You sound awfully confident."
"I am," Lady Faelwen replied without hesitation. "I am an elf. I was raised among them. If that makes me biased, then so be it."
Graviil shrugged. "Fair enough."
Silence followed — not uneasy, but heavy with consequence.
The plan was set.
All that remained was the hardest part: persuading the other nations to accept it.
If they truly wished to protect the heroes prophesied by the Blind Oracle, they would have to gamble diplomacy against fear, tradition against necessity.
And as the sun climbed higher beyond the academy walls, the four of them could only hope that the world would listen.