While the plaza choked on golden divinity and infernal grace, across the city, near the sprawling crescent-shaped ports of Asmaphaeri, another shift began.
A ripple of wind danced across the harbor, brushing the sails of merchant vessels. Ten carriages emerged into view.
Each floated a few centimeters above the ground, drawn by beasts that were neither horse nor deer but something in between. They were elegant,creatures with moss-veined hooves, massive antlers and glowing green eyes. The carriages were constructed of woven whitewood, shaped with such intricate elven artistry they seemed grown, not built.
As soon as they touched the port's stonework,the carriage doors opened. Elves began to step out, stretching their lithe bodies, their arms above their heads as they exhaled days of stillness from the journey.
Every person at the port froze.
Elves were the second most beautiful immortals in all of Spheraphase, standing just beneath the oceanic, haunting allure of the Hydroborn, and one step above the pale seduction of the Vampires. Unlike divine-borns, whose beauty was on a league of their own, elven beauty could be witnessed, comprehended and longed for.
And long for it people did.
Sharp-eared males and females alike stepped down gracefully, their skin sun-kissed and flawless, their garments woven from material so alluring. Their eyes glowed in various hues of lavender, moss-green, soft amber, and they spoke in the musical dialect of nature itself.
The largest carriage opened and the world grew still once more. It had the Mintheris symbol of a branching tree. The woman who stepped out was not merely elven.
She was the High Priestess of Mintherenia, Elyonari Mintheris.
The moment her foot touched the port stones, a wave of emerald light pulsed from her body. It swept through the harbor, across buildings, into cracks and alleys and garden pots.
Plants literally grew just a few centimeters but enough for every flower, leaf and vine to stretch like they were greeting her. Seagulls and ocean-borne birds sang louder. Even the fish visible beneath the glasslike waters of Asmaphaeri's artificial reefs shimmered with renewed energy.
Elyonari muttered with a soft yawn, raising her hands and arching her back as she stretched. Her voice was smooth, unfazed, steeped in age-old tiredness that came from wisdom and constant spiritual maintenance.
"Teleportation circles are better but nooo, the group had to show off today with carriages."
She sighed, flicking a strand of silver hair off her shoulder. Her long hair was tied to a single thick braid trailing down her left side. Her robe was a pure, flowing emerald with woven vines and gentle floral movement. In her left hand she held a white staff.
She was 180 centimeters tall, voluptuous and definitely too seductive. And everyone noticed.
Men on dock patrol stumbled in their steps as she walked past. A group of foreign mages quite literally dropped an entire cart of spell scrolls as their eyes trailed her form. Fishermen watching their boats swallowed hard, caught between awe and very impure thoughts.
She noticed but she didn't care.
Elyonari had long since grown used to being looked at with hunger. Beauty meant nothing without purpose. She simply exhaled and let it pass like wind. She then paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. She turned, slowly, toward the central district.
"Tch. So they're here already."
She felt Peroncerea, with her abyssal grace that cloaked the city in sensual chill with Natalis and Denisia, the twins of Andelaris who never arrived quietly. Her lips curled into a scoff.
"Narisva."
Her voice laced with something ancient. Irritation. Familiarity. Rivalry. She couldn't tell. But she didn't pursue it. Instead, she turned to her elven delegation and raised her staff slightly, amplifying her voice across the docks.
"You're all free to enjoy the city today. Don't start a nature cult. Don't offend the seafood vendors. And please, don't flirt with the humans again. You know how that went last time."
Laughter rose from the group behind her, some murmuring jokes as they scattered toward the city markets and the nearby coastal markets. Elyonari watched them go, then turned back to the skyline. The divine presences across the city burned like stars in her spiritual senses.
Two more joined.
"Oh?"
From the direction of the southern descent, a sound of marching hooves, rumbling gears and mechanical whirring echoed across the stone causeways. The wind changed to a brisk and electric feel, tinged with the sharp scent of steel and ozone.
Military carriages rolled into view.
They were darker than the elven ones, designed not for beauty but function and presence. Blackened metal frames reinforced with enchanted metals, wheels layered with shock-absorbing plates, and the symbols of Dynasty Fedres, which was a dragon with two swords behind it, and Dynasty Skyrover, which was a griffin on a cliff.
The carriages halted a respectable distance from the elven convoy. Then, with a hiss of pressure valves and a synchronized shift of locks, the carriage doors opened.
Out stepped Therianthropes. They stretched, cracking joints and sighing, loosening armor straps after the long journey. Their gazes drifted almost immediately toward the elves. And as expected, drool followed.
"Oh stars, they're hotter in person."
"Why is that one glowing?"
"Wait, are they all glowing?!"
"Don't embarrass us," one tiger Therianthrope grunted. "Just stare silently like you're dying inside. Have some decorum."
But even with discipline, elves were hard to ignore. To these warriors, creatures raised in the vast battlegrounds of Fedres and the harsh arenas of Skyrover, the sight of elven beauty was intoxicating. In Spheraphase, elven lovers were status. If you had an elf as a partner, you were the third luckiest in love. Hydroborn were second. Divine beings? That was simply divine favor incarnate.
The largest military carriage opened and silence rippled across both parties.
Out stepped a man of striking composure. 195 centimeters, effortlessly commanding with blond hair and silver eyes so clear and reflective. Beneath his form-fitted dark compressor shirt and tactical pants was the hard-earned physique of a trained general.
Xander Fedres, Supreme Commander of the Fedres military took one look at his drooling subordinates.
"Stop staring," he said plainly, not raising his voice.
They froze instantly. One even saluted in shame. Another voice joined his, this one warmer and lighter.
"You can't blame them you know."
A woman stepped out beside him, just slightly shorter but no less radiant. She was voluptuous, 175 centimeters, with shoulder-length lightning blue hair that sparked subtly with her emotions and lightning blue eyes that shimmered like storm crystals in a clear sky. Her armor wasn't ceremonial. It was battle-hardened but refined, trimmed in polished obsidian and royal blue metal that marked her as one thing.
Farrynelle Skyrover, the Supreme Commander of Skyrover.
The two walked together like they were carved from the same myth, matched in posture, presence, and power. Elyonari's mouth parted in the faintest trace of a smile.
"You two…"
Xander noticed her instantly. His silver eyes softened. Farrynelle broke into a bright grin.
"Oh chosen of the trees, is that the High Priestess herself?"
"Still as smug as ever," Elyonari replied as they approached.
"You matured," Farrynelle said as she reached her. "You're practically glowing."
Elyonari's eye twitched. She lightly smacked the back of Farrynelle's head with her staff. Farrynelle yelped and laughed, rubbing the spot.
"You deserved that," Elyonari said, "and don't you dare call me mature again."
But before Farrynelle could retaliate with another tease, Elyonari stepped in and wrapped her arms around her friend. Then Elyonari turned to Xander, who offered a short nod. She didn't hesitate. She hugged him too.
"You've grown more handsome," she said as they parted.
Xander scoffed. "Don't start. Vastarael still outclasses me by a thousand stars."
Elyonari chuckled, "That is a fact. No one could match him, not even if they spent a millennium trying."
Farrynelle stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend. "See? Told you."
"You only say that because you think he looks like a war god mixed with a fashion prince," Xander muttered.
"Because he does."
Elyonari raised a brow, then noticed something on their hands. She blinked then smiled knowingly.
"Rings?"
The couple glanced at each other. Their expressions softened into something deeply intimate. Xander nodded. Farrynelle held up her hand with a grin.
"We tied the knot last year."
Elyonari's jaw slackened. "You're married?!"
Xander rubbed the back of his neck. "We, uh… didn't invite everyone. We kept it small."
"Adelasta and Phaenora were there," Farrynelle added quickly. "So it's not like no one came."
Elyonari sighed, shaking her head with the patience of someone who had accepted their friends were always going to be extra.
"You do realize not everyone is going to take kindly to being left out, right?"
"We know," Xander said. "But with how everyone's scattered across continents and realms with responsibilities for the last half a decade after the Nexuses left... it was hard."
"We didn't want a wedding," Farrynelle admitted. "We wanted each other."
Elyonari paused then smiled.
"You're idiots. But I'm happy for you. Let's go. The only ones who haven't arrived are Eldrigan and Adelasta. I wonder how strong they are."