Omniphage of Apathy

The massive enchanted birds pulling the carriage were a sight to behold. Their feathers shimmered like molten gold, each wingbeat commanding the winds to bow to their might. They soared effortlessly, carrying the floating silver carriage that glowed faintly with an enchanted sheen. Twisting vines of gilded metal coiled around its frame, forming patterns that seemed alive.

Inside the luxurious carriage sat a girl, just seventeen years old but carrying herself with a poise beyond her age. As her mother often reminded her, was not just any elf.

Her pale skin seemed to drink in the sunlight streaming through the enchanted glass, giving her an otherworldly radiance. Her eyes, bright emeralds without pupils, glimmered as she stared out at the endless sky. She wore a flowing gown of silks, threaded with iridescent materials that shifted colors like a living aurora. The outfit, clearly foreign to Rise Borough's tastes, whispered of her origins.

Mintheris, the ancient territory of her kin.

Elves.

Across from her, sitting with regal composure, was her mother, Arthrea. Everything about Arthrea exuded authority and grace. Her gown, woven from silk that glistened like polished emeralds with glowing crystals, was no mere fashion statement. It was a declaration of Mintheris's deep connection to the World Tree. Her presence filled the small space with a weight that demanded respect.

"Elyonari," Arthrea began.

Elyonari tore her gaze from the window and turned to her mother, her lips pulling into a faint pout. "Yes, Mother?"

"You know why we are traveling to Rise Borough," she said, her words more a statement than a question. "This visit is not an opportunity for you to indulge in curiosity or mischief."

"I know," Elyonari replied quickly, though her fidgeting hands betrayed her restlessness. "You've told me a hundred times. Behave myself, respect Dynasty Richinaria, especially the heir and his siblings."

"And do you truly understand what that means?"

"It means... don't cause trouble?"

"Yes."

Elyonari sighed, her gaze drifting back to the window. "I'll behave. But aren't we a powerful Dynasty too?"

"We are. But Dynasty Richinaria is... more recognized for its technology and reputation. And riches."

For a moment, silence filled the carriage. Elyonari leaned her head against the cool glass of the window.

The carriage began its descent, the air around it shimmering as the birds adjusted their flight. Arthrea straightened, smoothing the crystalline folds of her gown.

"Compose yourself, Elyonari. We're almost there."

Elyonari sat up, her small hands smoothing the shimmering fabric of her own outfit. She took a deep breath, trying to push away the doubts and irritation swirling in her mind.

The massive birds descended gracefully, their golden wings sending ripples of wind across the floating palace's sprawling grounds. The Richinaria Palace, a suspended island in the sky, loomed ahead.

Elyonari craned her neck, her emerald eyes widening as she took in the breathtaking sight. Even in Mintheris, where beauty and magic intertwined seamlessly, nothing compared to the floating palace of Dynasty Richinaria.

Her mother, Arthrea, stepped out of the carriage first. Elyonari followed closely behind her.

A retinue of attendants awaited them at the base of the grand entrance platform. One stepped forward, a tall man with silver hair and sharp features, bowing deeply before Arthrea.

"Lady Arthrea of Mintheris," he said, his voice smooth and respectful. "Welcome to the Floating Palace of Dynasty Richinaria. I am Solan, the Master Attendant. I am honored to escort you and your daughter to the Audience Hall, where His Majesty awaits."

Arthrea inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Solan. The honor is ours."

Solvan's gaze flickered briefly to Elyonari, and though his expression remained neutral, there was a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"And this must be the young Lady Elyonari. The palace is privileged to host you both."

Elyonari gave a polite nod, her lips curving into a faint, practiced smile.

"t's a pleasure to be here."

"Please, follow me," Solan said, turning with a graceful sweep of his arm.

The attendants formed a silent procession, guiding Arthrea and Elyonari through the palace's grand halls. The floor beneath their feet was a flawless expanse of shimmering crystal, reflecting the high arches and carvings above.

Enchanted chandeliers floated lazily in the air, their light casting soft hues of gold and violet. The walls seemed alive, etched with scenes of Richinaria's storied past that shifted subtly as they walked.

Elyonari's eyes darted around, drinking in every detail. Despite her mother's constant reminders to remain composed, she couldn't help but marvel at the magic and artistry that surrounded her. Each step felt like walking through a living dream. Beside her, Arthrea strode with the confidence of someone who had seen such wonders before and found them admirable but not overwhelming.

As they passed through a vast corridor lined with massive windows, Elyonari caught glimpses of the palace grounds below. Floating gardens, their blossoms glowing faintly, hovered in perfect symmetry. Flocks of strange, radiant birds flitted between them, their songs carried on the soft breeze. The entire palace seemed to hum with life, a testament to the power and might of Dynasty Richinaria.

They reached a set of enormous double doors, gilded and engraved with runes that glowed faintly. Solan stopped and turned to face them.

"Beyond these doors is the Audience Hall. His Majesty and other members of the dynasty are awaiting your arrival. Please, allow me a moment to announce you."

Arthrea inclined her head again. "Of course."

Solan suddenly disappeared, leaving Arthrea and Elyonari standing before the grand entrance. Elyonari shifted slightly, her hands clasped in front of her, her composure outwardly intact but her mind buzzing with anticipation. She glanced up at her mother, whose serene expression betrayed no sign of nerves or uncertainty.

"Remember what I told you," Arthrea murmured without looking down. "Composure is everything."

Before Elyonari could respond, the massive doors began to creak open. A wave of warm light spilled out, accompanied by the faint murmur of voices. Solan reappeared, stepping aside to gesture for them to enter.

Arthrea moved first. Elyonari followed, her emerald eyes scanning the room as they entered. The Audience Hall was even more magnificent than she had imagined.

Its domed ceiling seemed to stretch endlessly upward, adorned with constellations that shifted and twinkled like the real night sky. The throne at the far end of the hall was a masterpiece, carved from a single piece of sapphire and veined with gold, its imposing presence softened only by the figure seated upon it.

Vastarael Richinaria's father, the Monarch of Dynasty Richinaria, was a sight to behold. His features were sharp and regal, his presence commanding yet not unkind. Beside him stood members of the dynasty, their beauty and poise nearly overwhelming.

Elyonari's gaze lingered on a boy her age, his striking features immediately drawing her attention. Vastarael, she guessed, though she quickly averted her gaze to avoid staring.

He wore a black faceless mask, covering his entire face.

'He's turning seventeen in a couple of days. Why is he hiding his face though?'

"Lady Arthrea of Mintheris," Solan announced, his voice resonating through the hall. "And her daughter, Lady Elyonari."

Arthrea bowed gracefully, a motion Elyonari mirrored with practiced precision. The Monarch rose from his throne, his expression warm but dignified.

"Lady Arthrea. You honor us with your presence."

"The honor is mine, Your Esteemed Majesty," Arthrea replied smoothly. "Dynasty Mintheris has long valued its friendship with Dynasty Richinaria. I hope this visit strengthens the bond between our families."

The King inclined his head, his gaze shifting briefly to Elyonari.

"And this must be the young Lady Elyonari. Welcome to our home."

Elyonari dipped her head respectfully. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Your palace is... breathtaking."

A faint smile tugged at the King's lips. "I hope you find your stay here enlightening. Anamorsia?"

Elyonari turned to face one of the princesses. She had six angel wings on her back but that was not what shocked her.

She was the definition of a beautiful angel.

Despite being thirteen, she had the exact regal appearance of a princess. She was also powerful and she could sense it.

Anamorsia's golden eyes softened as she stepped forward, her wings flapping just once to close the distance between them in an instant. Elyonari gasped, barely registering the movement before Anamorsia was standing right in front of her. She smiled, and it was as if the entire room grew warmer.

"Take it easy, Princess Elyonari," Anamorsia said soothingly. "No need to be nervous around us."

Elyonari felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She tried to speak but stumbled over her words.

"Oh, um… thank you, Princess Anamorsia."

Her words barely left her mouth before another voice interrupted, "Seriously, sister, don't take all the girls for yourself."

Anamorsia turned sharply, rolling her eyes at a girl her age with cascading dark wavy hair and piercing golden eyes. This girl had a beauty that was... alluring?

"Milliania," another voice chimed in, this one lighter yet firm, "show some respect."

The third sister stepped forward. She was younger, only ten years old, but she carried herself with such calm maturity that Elyonari felt a pang of envy. She had a striking presence, her long white hair streaked with vibrant red at the tips. Her golden eyes were sharp but kind, a mirror to the boy standing beside her, who shared her hair and eye color.

"Sorry, Leones," Milliania muttered, casting a sidelong glance at Anamorsia. "Didn't mean anything by it."

Leones shook her head lightly and turned her gaze to the tall figure standing at the back of the siblings.

"Brother? Aren't you going to say anything?"

All eyes shifted to the boy who stood apart from the group, his frame partially hidden beneath a long cloak. Elyonari's breath caught in her throat. Even though his face was obscured by a finely crafted mask, his presence was magnetic.

Vastarael Richinaria, the heir of the dynasty, stood in silence for a moment, his head tilted as if carefully considering his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was deep, smooth, and impossibly captivating.

"What is there to say? They're here to celebrate my maturity, which is two days from now. To be honest, it's not so bad to be informal. After all, dad invited them."

Elyonari felt her knees weaken at the sound of his voice. It was enchanting. Each word carried a weight that drew her in, and despite herself, she found it hard to breathe. She stole a glance at her mother and to her surprise, even Arthrea seemed momentarily struck. Her usually unreadable expression faltered, her emerald eyes widening slightly.

Arthrea cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

"Your Highness," she began, her voice steady but with a curious undertone, "forgive my boldness, but may I ask why you wear a mask?"

Vastarael turned his gaze to her.

"It's… necessary," he said, his voice softer now, almost apologetic. "My appearance has been causing… issues."

"Issues?" Arthrea repeated, her brows arching slightly.

Anamorsia sighed dramatically, folding her arms. "He's being modest. The truth is, his beauty was driving us all crazy."

"Crazy?" Elyonari blurted before she could stop herself, instantly regretting it as the Richinarias turned their attention to her. Her face burned with embarrassment.

"Yes, crazy,"Milliania said, rolling her eyes. "He's handsome, yes, but it's not just that. His… presence is overwhelming. You can't look at him too long without feeling..."

She paused, searching for the right word. "...distracted."

Leones chimed in, her tone even and matter-of-fact.

"We requested the mask, actually. It's enchanted to suppress his… charm, to an extent. Too bad he'll have to remove it during the celebration."

Leon, who had been quiet until now, nodded. "It helps. A little. Even I'm affected by it."

Elyonari's heart raced. What kind of beauty could have such an effect? She felt a pang of nervous excitement, unable to stop herself from imagining what lay beneath the mask. Her mother, too, seemed intrigued, though she quickly masked it with a polite nod.

"I see," Arthrea said, her tone carefully neutral. "That must be quite a burden to bear, Your Highness."

Vastarael's shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "It's simply part of who I am."

Elyonari couldn't tear her gaze away. His voice lingered in her mind, every word weaving a spell she couldn't escape. Even as the conversation moved on, she found herself distracted, her thoughts spinning with questions she was too shy to ask.

For the first time in her life, she felt truly out of her depth.

'Just what is underneath the mask?'