The main hall of the Skydorn Manor was decorated with bright, festive lights.
The crystal chandeliers danced with light as the guests below were immersed in the lively atmosphere.
Just then, a voice from outside of the hall rang out clearly over the music and conversation.
"Patriarch of the Stellar Deer Clan, Faelor Faenmir, and his wife, Elowen Faenmir, enter along with their daughter, Seraphiel Faenmir."
All eyes within the hall snapped to the broad doors of the hall entrance.
Amid the numerous gazes, the doors swung open, and three figures stepped into the glittering hall. Their proud, regal antlers sat on their heads like crowns, lending credence to their identities.
"So that's the Faenmir family…"
"Is that Madam Faenmir? She's so beautiful!"
"Their daughter is so cute! She looks quite graceful for her age."
As they crossed the threshold of the hall, the Faenmir family gave polite greetings and nods to those around them before settling at the table designated for them.
Seraphiel's wide, doe-like eyes observed her surroundings. Her curious gaze searched for something before she questioned her mother.
"Mother, where are Lady Kaelira and Lord Vairon?"
Elowen, sitting with ethereal poise beside her husband, chuckled before pinching her daughter's round cheek.
"Teardrop, they are the hosts. They will not arrive until all of the invited guests have entered."
With a look of understanding, Seraphiel nodded her little head with a serious expression. Her posture was reminiscent of her mother's, though the constant shuffle of her legs gave away her excitement.
Just then, the same voice echoed through the hall once again.
"Patriarch of the Morrin Clan, Alaric Morrin, enters."
A stern, middle-aged man emerged from the open doors, his large frame dwarfing the guards on either side of the doorway.
The eyes in the hall became heated at the sight of him.
"It's him."
"One of the Twelve!"
"I heard he recently broke through to the Peak of the Soul Expansion Stage!"
As the crowd spoke in hushed whispers, Alaric walked over to his table, grabbing a glass of wine from a passing waiter.
His heavy gaze swept the room, stopping briefly on the Faenmir table before closing, as if he had fallen asleep.
Faelor huffed angrily as he muttered under his breath, "Still so pretentious. No wonder he never found a wife."
Elowen pinched her husband's thigh, shooting him a reproachful stare as she grabbed a spirit fruit to place on her daughter's plate.
"Here, my love, have a bite."
Seraphiel's curious gaze shifted from the solitary figure of Alaric toward the plate before her. Smelling the clean, pure scent coming from the fruit, she hurriedly picked up a small piece and ate it gracefully.
Her small cheeks puffed out like a squirrel in enjoyment.
Seeing her daughter relishing her food, Elowen let out an elegant smile before turning to speak with those who had walked over to their table to introduce themselves.
Time passed unknowingly. After many guests made their entrances, the hall gradually began to fill with more and more chatter.
Just like the other times, the voice boomed again—though this time, a faint excitement could be heard in its tone.
"From Snow Heart Palace…"
All conversation within the hall paused, gazes growing heated as they all stared transfixed at the door.
"Palace Mistress Aelshira Glacelion…"
A regal figure stepped into the hall, her white dress holding a sacred purity, yet her aura carrying an icy fierceness. Her white hair swayed like a solemn mantle, and her pale blue eyes carried an authority that could not be ignored.
"Lady Karliah…"
A swanlike beauty followed behind her, her lithe steps and flowing dress giving the illusion that she was gliding across the floor. Her small smile was delicate and airy like soft snow, illuminating the hall in a deceptively warm glow.
"Followed by their entourage, Elder Cassandra…"
As more names were called, the small group walked into the hall like immortal fairies. Their presence seemed to cool the festive atmosphere, but not in a bad way—more like the joyous first snowfall of winter.
All the seated and standing guests bowed and greeted them with composed smiles.
Aelshira and Karliah ignored them for the most part, but the others with them gave small nods of acknowledgement.
However, they were all puzzled by the small figure walking beside Karliah. Everyone was curious about the young girl able to stand so close to the mysterious Lady Karliah of the North.
Not wanting to upset them, though, they all swallowed their inquiries and chose to simply ignore her, allowing the snow fairies to take their seats next to the Faenmir Clan.
Seeing them, Faelor and Elowen gave polite nods. Aelshira finally glanced up and returned the nod, her cold face softening ever so slightly.
Seraphiel, captivated by the beauty of those from Snow Heart Palace, rested her gaze on Nyssara, who stood behind the black-haired mysterious lady.
She could sense an odd aura around her, but couldn't understand the discomfort she felt looking at her. Before she could ask her mother who they were, the voice boomed again, and this time, the hall fell into dead silence.
"From the Great Aetherion Clan…"
It seemed as if all breathing in the hall had stopped simultaneously. The very air froze before it began to heat up with anticipation.
"Patriarch Vaelor Aetherion, followed by Madam Liraxia Solvane…"
When the two figures entered the hall, the air seemed to thicken as a subtle oppressive force descended upon it.
Seraphiel's eyes widened in fear as she laid eyes on the figure of the man walking through the doors. But to her sensitive instincts, his figure was replaced by the image of a brewing tempest.
A storm barely controlled behind the guise of a man.
As she began to shiver in terror, a soothing floral scent wafted over her nose, instantly calming her frayed senses.
Looking up, she met her mother's warm eyes and felt a slight sense of ease as she began to relax.
Faelor's eyes narrowed as he cursed under his breath.
"That old devil actually came. Dammit, I knew this birthday party thing wasn't so simple."
Alaric's eyes snapped open, his sharp gaze locking onto the two figures walking into the hall with an unreadable expression.