Dawnspire

In the center of the human district lies the Castle of Dawnspire, a towering castle built from white marble. The castle is a symbol of human might, wisdom, and grace, with vast, intricately carved walls and towers that rise toward the heavens, decorated with golden banners that flutter in the wind.

At the grand entrance, framed by soaring archways and gleaming stone columns, stood a beautiful figure.

Bathed in the cold wind of the evening , Velessa seemed almost ethereal. Her gown, a masterpiece of dark purple and golden threads, swayed with each gust of wind. Intricate patterns reminiscent of dragon scales adorned the fabric, cascading down in elegant layers. A delicate silver amulet rested on her neck, a single purple gem set at its center, glowing faintly with magic.

Two graceful horns nestled atop her head, half-hidden by her meticulously styled bun. They gleamed faintly beneath the sunlight, their shape smooth and elegant, more ornamental than fearsome. A subtle veil of illusion magic softened their edges, making them appear more like an exotic trait than a draconic feature.

To the world, Velessa was no dragon. She and Caldreya had carefully constructed a lie-one that, given its rarity and mystique, would invite awe rather than suspicion.

She was said to be a Child of Aether.

These beings, born from magic as much as from flesh, resembled humans but bore strange and wondrous traits. Some had the ears of felines or the wings of birds, and some possessed scales or tails. The human form appeared to have been manipulated by an irrational deity in a moment of divine creativity.

Or madness.

Though rare, so rare that most believed them to be myths-Children of Aether were known for their immense magical potential. Each one was unique, their talents were as varied as their appearances. It was the perfect cover.

Velessa, with her regal bearing, strange horns, and the golden light in her eyes, fit the myth too well to be questioned.

She stepped forward towards the two guards sitting at the entrance, her heels clicking with each step.

Both of the guards noticed her, both of them shaken by her beauty.

"Good evening, I have come to attend the coronation on behalf of Archmage Peter Asharic."

Her voice was smooth and composed, carrying the weight of nobility. The guards straightened up immediately, exchanging a quick glance before one of them nodded hastily.

"Of course, Lady Velessa. We've been informed of your arrival."

The other guard opened the grand doors of Dawnspire. As the doors parted, a wave of music, laughter, and light spilled out from within.

"Velessa Asharic has arrived."

Dozens of eyes turned her way, their gazes sweeping over her figure before inevitably settling on her horns. She frowned ever so slightly.

'Perverted monkeys...'

With a graceful smile, she stepped inside.

She could feel their gazes like needles: curious, awed, some reverent, others the complete opposite. But she kept her composure, her posture elegant, her aura commanding.

Each step she took silenced a little more of the chatter.

Inside, the grand ballroom of Dawnspire glittered like a dream. Crystal chandeliers cast soft golden light upon polished marble floors. Nobles in tailored finery turned to look, whispers following her.

Velessa's smile never wavered.

Let them stare. Let them wonder.

She wasn't here to blend in. She was here as the official head of the Asharic family-even if Peter hadn't exactly given her permission to act as such.

'Eh, who cares?' 

She thought, brushing the idea aside.

'He's not here to say otherwise anyway.'

She walked deeper into the ballroom, offering polite greetings to a few of the notable figures gathered. Elves draped in silks that shone like moonlight, dwarves in heavy formal armor -each had come to offer their blessings, gifts, and support to the First Prince.

Yet beneath the music and golden chandeliers, the game of politics played on subtle glances, calculated smiles, and quiet maneuvering. It didn't take an expert to read the undercurrents. Alliances were being tested. Favors counted. Power measured.

It disgusted her. How could they still continue this tomfoolery when their world was being slowly consumed? Was something wrong with their head? Oh well.

Finally, she reached the long central tables, each one an opulent display of the kingdom's finest delicacies-glazed meats draped in gold leaf, fruits carved into artful blossoms, and pastries that shimmered with dustings of crystal sugar.

Her eyes watered slightly. Such beauty. Such perfection.

With as much grace as she could muster, she filled a plate nearly to the brim, carefully balancing the need for elegance with the quiet desperation of a hungry soul. She made her way to a nearby chair and sat down with practiced poise, though her heart was already set on the feast before her.

'I need to attend every such event.' 

She opened her mouth and took a delicate bite. A shiver ran through her-whether from delight or spiritual awakening, she couldn't quite tell. This was divine.

And then, as if summoned by fate itself to ruin her moment, a figure stepped in front of her.

A young man, not much older than her, with perfectly combed hair and an arrogant smirk that practically screamed noble brat.

"Greetings, Miss Velessa. It's a pleasure to see you on this fine evening."

He bowed just enough to show off, offering a polished, charming smile.

"Would you honor me with a dance, Miss Velessa?"

"I'm quite tired from the journey I took to arrive." she replied, her smile as soft .

'Get the hint, idiot.'

Peter's manor is quite literally 5 minutes away.

The young man chuckled, brushing off her words with that same irritating smirk.

"Oh, please, I insist. I'm sure everyone here would find your dancing… enchanting."

Velessa's smile didn't falter, but her patience thinned.

"I appreciate the offer," she said sweetly, placing her fork down. "But I'd hate to draw too much attention. If I outshine you too severely, I fear the room might forget you were there at all."

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with subtle amusement.

"Perhaps later, when the music is slower and the expectations… lower."

My goodness. Did Caldreya teach you all this?

The young man's eye twitched, his confident facade cracking for just a moment. He stepped back with a stiff smile, clearly deciding not to press further and risk making a scene.

"Hopefully, you'll change your mind later." He said.

Velessa gave him a serene nod, already reaching for another delicate pastry.

"We'll see."

She replied, her tone sweet but her meaning razor-sharp—a clear dismissal dressed in courtesy. It was obvious to anyone listening that she had no intention of seeing his face again, let alone dancing with him.

Suddenly, the music came to an abrupt halt. The hum of whispered conversations fell into silence. All eyes turned toward the elevated podium at the end of the hall.

A tall figure now stood there. His ceremonial robe shone faintly, marked with the crest of the royal family.

The herald's voice rang out with crisp clarity:

"Presenting, His Highness, First Prince Caelmir, Heir to the Throne of the Human Dominion."