Omniphage of Apathy

In Spheraphase, the age of maturity was a crucial milestone, marking the transition from adolescence to adulthood.

The second birthday, at age 17, was celebrated not just for the individual's growth but for their readiness to take on the responsibilities and challenges that came with adulthood. This age marked by a grand celebration in each territory, was far more significant than any other birthday in Spheraphase.

For those born into royal families like Vastarael, the celebration was even more momentous.

As the heir to Dynasty Richinaria, his seventeenth birthday wasn't just a personal affair but a declaration of his readiness to take on the immense weight of the family's legacy. This ball was an event that would set the tone for the future of Dynasty Richinaria, influencing alliances, political stances and relationships across the continent.

The preparation for Vastarael's birthday had been going on for months and it seemed as if the entire palace and its surrounding areas had been consumed by it.

Servants scrambled through the corridors, ensuring the grand ballroom was ready for its impending guests, some of whom were rumored to be the most powerful individuals in Spheraphase. The gardens were meticulously manicured and large, grandiose chandeliers were being suspended from the high ceilings of the ballroom, their crystals catching the light from the dawn.

Vastarael's attire had been a subject of great discussion, too. As heir to the throne, he would wear the finest clothing made from the rarest materials. His ensemble would be a mix of ancient tradition and contemporary style, designed to remind everyone of his royal lineage while still showcasing his personal identity.

Meanwhile, the ball itself was shaping up to be a dazzling spectacle. Musicians were carefully selected, each a virtuoso capable of playing melodies that would invoke emotions, humbling respect the Richinaria family commanded.

Everything was designed with one goal in mind: to show the power and beauty of Dynasty Richinaria, to announce Vastarael's coming of age, and to solidify the Dynasty's place in the political landscape.

Despite the grandeur of the event, Vastarael wasn't looking forward to the ball in the way others might expect. In fact, he was looking at himself in the mirror with his maid Iona.

Iona, his personal maid, was now grown up and a mature adult. Being twenty five years old, she was one of the most important servants of the royal family.

And one of the deadliest.

Lysameria wouldn't allow any of her children to be taken care of by incompetent beings and Iona was no ordinary maid. She was abeautiful half cat Therianthrope and had a loving attitude but she was dangerous.

Well, it anyone wished to harm him of course.

"Iona, how do I look?" Vastarael said as he looked at himself in the mirror. "You gotta admit that I look good, right?"

Iona gave him a smile.

"You look wonderful, master. I can't believe you've grown up so fast."

"And you're still single. Seriously, I expected you to have a boyfriend or a husband. You're beautiful you know."

"I... I find my work more pleasant than marriage or relationships."

"Iona, I'm leaving soon. And... I'm sure that unless you have access to Minafallen, you'll not be able to cater for me. So, I want to ask you a question. Are you willing to stay with me?"

"..."

"I won't force you to go with me. Also, if you decide to leave halfway through, I won't stop you. But... if you go with me, you might not make it back to the palace for a while."

The finality of that last sentence struck her like a cold gust of wind. To leave the palace now, with everything she had known... there would be no going back.

The loyalty she had held for the Richinaria family, for the royal line, had shaped her entire life. But now, Vastarael was offering her a chance to stand by his side in a world beyond the walls of the palace, a world she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

Her heart was heavy with the decision. She had always known her role, always understood that her place was beside him. But now, as she looked at him, she knew that everything was about to change. The weight of her service, of her loyalty, would either bind her to him forever or separate them both in ways she could not foresee.

After a long, silent moment, she finally spoke, her voice calm but filled with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to express.

"Master, my place has always been with you," she began softly, her gaze steady as she met his eyes in the mirror. "And if you wish it, I will follow you. But I am not blind to the dangers. If you leave the palace, you will face threats far greater than anything you've known. I would never abandon you… but I cannot promise that it will be easy. The life you are asking me to follow you into... is not one of comfort. You are not just a prince anymore. You are the heir to a legacy. And there are many who would see that fall."

She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her uniform.

"But if you will have me, I will follow you. I will stay by your side, wherever that leads. I've already made my choice. And I won't regret it."

Vastarael turned to face her fully. For a moment, there was a shared silence between them. Then, without a word, he took a step forward and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, his fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of her uniform.

"I'm glad you're with me, Iona," he said quietly. "I could never do this without you. Besides, you're my secondary sparring partner. And my maid too. Thank you for everything you have done for me, Iona."

Iona looked up at him, her expression soft but resolute. "And I will never leave you, Master."

"Oh? Is my son after older women now?"

The door creaked open and in walked Lysameria, her presence commanding and elegant as always. Even after years of war, the woman exuded the kind of grace and power that made her the heart of the Richinaria dynasty.

Her long dark wavy hair cascaded down her back, catching the light as she moved with the poise of a queen. Her flawless skin seemed untouched by time, and her cerulean eyes glowed with a steady light.

Iona, sensing the shift in atmosphere, bowed her head slightly and excused herself from the room.

"I'll leave you to your family, Your Highness," she said, offering Vastarael one last bow before stepping quietly out of the chamber.

As the door closed behind Iona, Lysameria moved closer to her son. She stood still for a moment, her eyes scanning him as if taking in every detail of his appearance.

"You're... still the same, mother."

"My beautiful son," she began, her smile softening as she took in the sight of him, "I can hardly believe how tall you've grown! It seems like just yesterday you were a child, so full of energy and dreams. And now… now you stand before me a man, a true heir to the Richinaria throne."

Vastarael stood still, his shoulders squared, meeting her gaze with the same quiet intensity that had always marked their conversations. He could feel the weight of her words settling over him but he didn't flinch. There was no need. This was his mother, the one person who knew him better than anyone.

"You've grown into your beauty, Rael," she continued, a faint, affectionate chuckle escaping her lips. "Though I suspect you always had it. It's strange, isn't it? To see you like this. All these years, I've been away and coming back and you... you've become so much more than I could have imagined."

"Are you crying?"

Lysameria didn't even notice her own tears falling down. Before he knew it, his mother immediately embraced him.

"I never thought this day would come," she said with a teary face. "I always knew you would grow into something great, but I… I didn't realize how quickly that greatness would come. I guess that means I'm getting old."

Vastarael's lips twitched into a smile, though it was bittersweet. "You'll never grow old, mom. Seriously, you look twenty one!"

It was not a joke. His mother was so young that one would think that they were brother and sister.

Vastarael's height had increased and now, he was taller than his mother, towering at about 185cm. Her mother was tall at 180cm but she didn't care. To her, he would always be the little boy who told her everything.

After all, he was a mature adult.

Lysameria let out a soft laugh and for a moment, it seemed like the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.

"You know me too well. But I'm glad you're here. And I'm glad to see you standing on your own two feet. Seriously, when I saw you experiencing Reversal Ascension, I thought you would die. But... here you are, smiling and even more handsome than my own husband."

"Hey come on... not you too..."

Lysameria giggled slightly, wiping her own tears. "Seriously, it's not a lie. If you existed during your father's time, I would have made you mine. Unfortunately..."

Vastarael sighed as he gave his mother a smile.

"Don't cheat on dad. You should focus on your own husband. You can even have another kid if you want. And, you still have Anamorsia and the twins to raise."

"Hey, I can't cheat on your dad. He'd never let me go after another man and neither would he have another partner. Opera was the last straw and if he gets another one..."

"I highly doubt it."

Lysameria sighed deeply before straightening his son's outfit.

"Well, happy seventeenth birthday. Since you're leaving for the academy tomorrow with Adelasta and the Elven Princess, this might be the last time I look at my boy. Well, until next summer that is."

His smile grew mischievous, his eyes gleaming with a playful glint. He was ready to make the most of the night.

"Since we won't have much time together after this, why don't we make it count?" Vastarael suggested. "How about you go with me to the ball? You can be my partner, rile up dad a bit before I leave. It's the least we can do. And besides... it will prove to the other nobles just how beautiful your son is."

Lysameria raised an eyebrow before a smirk tugged at her lips. It was rare to see her amused but Vastarael had always had a knack for lightening the mood with his unexpected requests. She studied him for a moment, as though weighing the idea.

Finally, she gave a small laugh.

"You always have a way of getting me to do things I didn't plan on," she said with a soft shake of her head. "Alright, let's do it. Let's rile up your father and show the nobility just how magnificent my son is. The other women will just have to take a step back tonight."

With a flourish, Lysameria extended her hand to her son. The moment her fingers touched his, she locked her hand with his with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before.

Together, they walked out of the room as they made their way down the hallway. The distant sound of music and chatter reached their ears as they approached the grand ballroom.

This would be the last time he would enjoy a pleasant time with his family. Well, at least for a while.