...
December 18 of Year 707.
Grace had never found it so hard to keep still.
The entire morning had been a gentle agony, sitting for hours while maids wound her silver hair into an intricate braid crowned by tiny living blossoms the colour of her eyes. Her gown was a soft waterfall of green silk threaded with pale silver vines, delicate enough to catch on her bracelets if she moved too quickly. Which meant she kept moving too quickly, of course.
When at last they finished, she could hardly stop glancing at her reflection in the tall mirror. "Do you think it's too much?" she asked for the seventh time.
One of the elder attendants smiled fondly. "My lady, if it is, then we must all adjust our eyes, for beauty like yours deserves the finest frame."
Grace puffed her cheeks in playful embarrassment, then laughed. "You old flatterer. Very well, I suppose I'll trust you."
By late afternoon, everywhere Grace looked, the palace was alive with quiet celebration: maids carrying trays of nectar cakes, slender pages stringing up delicate lanterns, musicians tuning slender harps that caught the light in gleaming arcs. The main hall of their palace was alive with music and quiet conversation. It was a grand space but not ostentatious wide windows open to let in fragrant breezes from the gardens, lanterns shaped like tiny moons swaying gently from woven silverwood beams. Tables of fruits, sweet cakes, honeyed nuts, and cool drinks stood in discreet clusters.
Grace smoothed her gown again that she had done for who knows how many times. She twirled once, then laughed, shaking her head. "Stop it," she whispered to herself. "You're worse than a child."
On her wrist, Haze stirred a cool, light pressure that calmed her heart. She reached up and stroked his small white head.
The gathering begins
Soon guests began to arrive, elegant elves with hair like gold or night-dark mahogany, half-elves whose eyes caught light in curious ways, merchants from public towns where humans, Evergreens, and even the occasional dwarf mingled. The air was thick with floral perfume, warm greetings, the soft rustle of robes and laughter echoing under vaulted arches.
Then, with a small delighted squeal, Emily El'Monroe, the 6th Princess of Elven Royal family burst through the doors. Her hair was woven in an elaborate crown braid studded with tiny pearl droplets, and her gown shimmered with faint blue petals that drifted off and re-formed every time she spun.
"Gracie!" Emily grabbed her hands. "Look at you! If I didn't love you so much, I'd be scandalously jealous."
Grace laughed, giving her a quick squeeze. "And look at you. They'll have to write new poems to describe how lovely you are."
Emily sniffed theatrically. "Obviously. But you've outdone us all, as usual. Is that your little pet I've heard about?"
Haze lifted his head, tongue flicking. Emily peered closer, eyes bright. "Oh spirits, he's exquisite. Like someone carved him from frost and set him living. Will you trade him for a year of my best hair ornaments?"
Grace grinned. "Not for all the gems in Elandriel."
Emily sighed dramatically. "Selfish. So I suppose I'll never find one just like him. Typical. Even your pets are one of a kind." She lightly nudged Grace's shoulder. "If he lays eggs, promise me the first hatchling."
Grace laughed so brightly a few nearby guests turned to smile at them. "If that day ever comes, you'll be the first to know. Though somehow I don't think he'll be laying eggs anytime soon."
A little later, they were joined by a woman whose presence seemed to hush the nearby chatter. She was an Evergreen, her skin a gentle moss-green, hair a cascade of soft bronze streaked with bright ivy. Her eyes were warm gold, twinkling with familiar affection.
"Lady Aeralis," Grace said, stepping forward with a delighted gasp. "Mother said you might come, but I didn't dare hope!"
"Of course I came, little blossom." Aeralis, High Priest of Church of Nature gathered Grace into a light embrace. "Your mother would've chased me from my glade if I hadn't. Besides, I wanted to see how tall you've grown, and give you this present."
From a small wooden case, she revealed a tiny crystalline seed that seemed to pulse faintly with inner life. "A seed of an elder tree, from my home grove. Plant it in your academy garden. It will twine to your aura, soothe your heart, and grow only as swiftly as your spirit allows."
Grace cradled it like fragile treasure. "Aunt Aeralis, it's beautiful. Thank you. I'll care for it as dearly as if it were my own sister."
Aeralis smiled, brushing a gentle hand against her cheek. "I would expect nothing less."
The music softened as another figure approached tall, robed in deep midnight blues that shimmered faintly with arcane runes. His hair was silver shot through with dusk purple, clearly someone from Silvaris family, his eyes sharp, steady grey that danced with a clever light.
"Uncle Caelith!" Grace hurried forward, drawing him into a gentle hug.
"Ah, my bright niece," Caelith murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Truly, you've grown radiant. I almost fear the academy will fall over itself trying to impress you."
Grace flushed. "And you've come all this way to see me?"
"Two reasons, actually," he said with a wry smile. "First, to attend your birthday properly. Second your father has entrusted me with the delightful task of escorting you and Emily to the academy."
Both girls were delighted after hearing such news.
Caelith only chuckled, then reached into a hidden fold of his robes to draw out a slender silver ring. "For you, Grace. A simple charm ring, but woven by my own hand. It can hold up to three minor spells, to call upon when needed. I've already saved one offensive, defensive, and escape skill for you."
Grace slipped it on reverently. "Uncle, thank you. I'll use it wisely, or as wisely as your mischievous niece can."
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Try at least not to set the dormitory on fire. Though it would be memorable."
The rest of the afternoon slipped by in a warm, sparkling blur. Nobles from across their corner of Elandriel Kingdom approached in gentle procession, offering gifts with graceful words.
Duke Theloran, a dignified human nobel with black hair, offered a delicate crystal harp. "May its music ease your studies, Lady Grace. I expect to hear tales of your brilliance when next I pass through the capital."
"Thank you, Duke Theloran," Grace said warmly. "I'll think of your kindness whenever I play."
Marquis Sylari, her gown trailing tiny glowing moths, pressed a small vial into Grace's hands. "Sun-lily nectar, my dear. A single drop in tea will brighten even the dreariest winter lecture."
"You're too generous, Lady Sylari. I hope next spring your gardens win every honor."
From the coast came half-elven twins, Lethan and Lira, who presented a slender lacquered box. Inside lay a comb of dark wood studded with opals. "For the court festivals at the academy," Lira said shyly.
"I love it. Thank you both. When I wear it, I'll tell everyone it's from the most charming pair in the western isles."
Lord Harglen of Carrow, a dwarf with merry dark eyes, clasped his hand. "Your father once pulled my hide out of a frozen canyon. All I have to repay is this, an old book of war stories, margins filled with my muddled thoughts. Perhaps it'll keep you awake in dull classes."
Grace laughed. "I'll treasure it, Lord Harglen. Truly. And I'll write my own notes beside yours."
Near the end of the evening, her father and mother stood there, her father Aegnor El'Silvaris brought out a small wooden case. He opened it slowly, revealing a slender blade that seemed to drink the light steel so pale it was almost white, engraved with delicate silverleaf that caught faint gleams.
"Happiest Birthday my swan and this Dwarven-forged," he said, voice low. "Light enough to dance with, strong enough to cleave through far worse than bandits. Enchanted to answer only to you it will weigh nothing more than your will desires."
Grace reached out, fingers trembling as she lifted it. The sword seemed to hum faintly, as if recognizing her. Tears pricked her eyes. "Father… it's perfect. Truly. Thank you."
Aegnor rested a hand atop hers, folding it gently around the hilt. "Carry it well, Grace. Not just for your own protection, but so that any who'd harm you will think twice when they see the light of our house on your hip."
Grace's mother, Lady Seraphiel El'Monroe merely smiled at the exchange between father and daughter. In her hands, she cradled a small carved box of dusky jade, its surface etched with tiny swirling patterns like coiling spirits.
"Grace," she said gently and turned the box slowly, then met her daughter's eyes. "I have watched you and this little companion of yours for days now. He is loyal, clever, strangely gentle for such a creature. And since you plan to take him with you to the academy… I want to be certain he's truly strong enough to stand beside you."
Grace tilted her head, confused and curious.
Her mother opened the box. Inside, nestled on soft dark moss, lay what looked like a tiny lotus bud carved from translucent amber. But it pulsed faintly with a living light, as if cradling tiny drifting motes of gold within. A cool, sweet fragrance rose from it, part wild mint, part deeper, stranger spice that made Grace's breath catch.
"This is a rare creation, my dear. A Sequence one Beast Path elixir, refined from some rare treasures. I searched long in old records of snakes like your Haze, most tend to awaken toward Path of Beast. With this… if fortune favors him, he could step higher, although beasts and animal with very few lucky or those with strong spirit can also step on the path of Transcendants, their progress mainly tend to stop after that due to what you may call enough Spirit or Sentience that we major races have and it is what we also need for further advancements, if not enough then they get corrupted by power, which is basically what we call Monster.
Grace's eyes widened in wonder then filled with sudden worry. "But… you said 'if fortune favors him.' What if it doesn't?"
Seraphiel's expression became solemn as she said, "Then the power may unravel him instead. It is always a risk, to offer such a push beyond natural bounds. You must decide if you wish to give it to him. I will not force this choice upon you."
Grace looked down at Haze, who was watching her with unblinking pale eyes. Her heart ached at the thought of losing him. Yet something fierce inside her longed to see him grow to have him truly walk beside her through the strange roads ahead.
She reached out and took the little box with careful hands. "Thank you, Mother. I… I will think carefully. But I do want him strong enough to stay by me, always."
Her mother smiled faintly, brushing a hand through Grace's hair. "That is all I ask."
Nearby, Haze coiled tighter around Grace's wrist, tongue flicking. Inside, Aurelian's sharp mind churned. A treasure capable of nudging a creature toward higher sequences… toward Path of Beast isn't that perfect for him, a beast with human intelligence and strong spirit ? If my constitution and spirit is as solid as I suspect, I may well survive it. But i still want to understand what i will gain after reaching level 10, if Devour offers me something else then this path might not be bad tto choose.
For now, he simply rested his small head against Grace's thumb, letting her warmth soothe them both. Inwardly, he was already planning when and how he would claim this gift.
Later Emily dragged Grace toward the dance floor. "Do you realize," she hissed, "that between your uncle's ring, your father's blade, and all these marvels, you're practically going to arrive at the academy like some storybook heroine? Meanwhile I'll be lucky to bring my best hair pins and some mesmerizing perfumes."
Grace squeezed her hand. "If someone else heard you, The 6th Princess of Elven Royality said such things, they'll kill themselves."
Emily tried to look offended, failed, then burst into giggles. "Fair enough."