Morning sunlight seeped through the crystalline windows of the Frostglass Palace in soft ribbons—warm, quiet, almost reverent. The dawn did not rush here; it drifted gently, like a guest who knew the palace was waking to something sacred.
Servants paced with careful steps, adjusting drapes, checking ceremonial items, whispering reminders to each other. The air wasn't frantic—just full. Full of anticipation. Full of a shared, unspoken awareness:
Today, the Crown Prince would awaken.
And somewhere deep within the palace, an ancient expectancy stirred like a tide.
— King & Queen Before the Day Begins
Queen Elara walked through the eastern wing, the soft shimmer of her Spirit aura trailing her like a thin silver veil. It wasn't loud or flashy. It simply felt like comfort—calming everything it touched.
She paused briefly at every servant who bowed to her.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Blessings of the Spirit upon you, Your Majesty."
Elara smiled each time—not the formal, practiced smile of diplomacy, but the gentle, living one of a woman whose nature softened even marble corridors.
When she reached the double doors of the royal chamber, the guards straightened instinctively and opened them without a word.
Inside, sunlight filled the room like warm breath.
King Alistair stood before the tall mirror, adjusting the clasp of his robe. His silver-grey hair reflected the morning light, making him appear freshly carved from steel and dignity. When he sensed Elara's presence, his posture softened—shoulders relaxing, expression easing into something warm and quietly affectionate.
"There you are," he murmured, voice rich and low. "My morning star."
Elara raised an eyebrow, amused.
"You're awake earlier than the sun. That is new."
He chuckled, stepping toward her. "A king must behave today. His queen would expect nothing less."
"And what about tomorrow?" she teased.
"Tomorrow," he said, gently taking her hand, "I'll let you wake me."
She snorted softly as he drew her close. Elara's hands rose to his chest, fingers brushing over the embroidered crest on his robe. His fingers settled on her waist, steady and familiar.
"You're nervous," she whispered.
"A little," he admitted.
"For him?"
"For the world he's stepping into."
They turned together toward the window.
Below them, Vaelhold stirred—the harbor swelling with life, shopkeepers unlatching doors, children darting across bridges as morning bells chimed faintly.
Elara leaned into Alistair's side.
"Do you remember when you first held him?" she murmured.
"How could I forget?" A quiet laugh escaped him. "He latched onto my finger like it was his birthright."
"He still does that, in his own way," she said softly.
Alistair pressed a kiss to her temple.
"He'll always be our boy."
Elara closed her eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of his voice settle into her.
"Alistair," she said after a moment, "do you fear what awaits him?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Every day."
Her breath caught.
"But fear is not what guides me," he added quietly. "Belief does."
She leaned further into him.
"With you," she whispered, "I fear nothing."
The morning held them there for a moment—just a husband and wife, wrapped in quiet certainty before fate unveiled itself.
— Princess Aria's Beautiful Chaos
On the opposite wing of the palace, chaos wore a crown and a very stubborn expression.
"Princess Aria, please stay still—!"
"No running—!"
"Your Highness! That ribbon is upside down—!"
Five maids chased Princess Aria in circles as she held her hairbrush like a weapon of chaos.
"But I have to be perfect!" she insisted, darting atop her bed. "Brother's awakening is today!"
"And that is WHY," the head maid cried, exasperated, "we must finish preparing you!"
Aria puffed her cheeks stubbornly.
"I am almost ready."
Her hair looked like it had fought the wind and lost.
"No, you are not," the head maid whispered, visibly praying for patience.
Aria paused suddenly.
"…Will nobles be there?"
"Yes!" five maids shouted together.
Her posture straightened instantly.
"Oh."
She cleared her throat, forcing dignity into her voice.
"Then proceed."
Five maids collapsed inward with spiritual relief.
Aria allowed them to fix her hair, though her leg bounced with too much excitement. She kept twisting to look at the mirror, smiling shyly one moment, beaming the next.
"I wonder what Brother will awaken with…" she whispered, cheeks glowing with pride. "I just know he'll be extraordinary."
The maids exchanged soft smiles.
They'd grown up watching these royal siblings.
If Arcanis was the heart of the kingdom…
Aria was its warmth.
— Gathering of Nobles & Captains (Multiple POVs)
The Awakening Hall grew fuller with each passing minute. Noble families, envoys, scholars, and captains moved into place, their expressions tinted with curiosity and quiet reverence.
Today wasn't just a ceremony.
It was a lineage event.
A kingdom-defining moment.
---
POV — Lord Thale (Knights of Stone)
The prince has grown tall. Serious boy… quiet eyes.
If his element mirrors his resolve, this kingdom will earn strength it's never seen.
He crossed his arms thoughtfully.
May the elements favor him today.
---
POV — Lady Lunara (Spirit Scholars)
The air feels different.
The runes along the pillars almost… whisper.
Her gaze drifted upward.
The Spirit often murmured on days of change.
Today, it felt like a shout waiting to happen.
---
POV — Head of House Aevon (Harbor Lords)
If he awakens a water-based element, the sea routes will flourish.
But if he awakens something rare…
He inhaled slowly.
Aravell may rise beyond every expectation.
---
POV — Captain Serion (Sword Captain)
I've seen the prince train. Quiet. Focused. Intentional.
A boy who holds discipline like a blade.
He touched the hilt at his waist.
Whatever he awakens, my sword is his.
---
POV — Captain Seraphine (Arcanist Captain)
The orb reacts strangely today.
Mana currents ripple like threads tugged by unseen hands.
She narrowed her eyes.
Something unusual is coming.
---
POV — Captain Vareth (Shield Captain)
My shield stands ready.
No matter what awakens within him…
He planted his feet firmly.
I will guard him against whatever follows.
— The Hall Breathes as One
The crystalline orb at the center pulsed once—
Soft.
Ancient.
Alive.
The pillars vibrated faintly.
Light flickered across the carved runes.
Voices hushed instantly.
"The prince…"
"He must be close…"
"What will his element be…?"
"A rare one, perhaps?"
"Don't speak recklessly—still… something feels different today."
The anticipation wasn't loud.
It was heavy.
Like a room leaning forward.
Even the priests paused mid-chant, their breaths held.
Something was coming.
Something the kingdom had never witnessed.
And behind those distant palace doors—
A boy with white hair and quiet eyes opened his own.
The Crown Prince was awake.
And the ceremony that would reshape Aravell had truly begun.