A HOLLOWED SILENCE fell like a gentle mist, blanketing the Sil'Avaris Kingdom, particularly the capital and the palace grounds. With a thickened silence and a cool breeze that rustled the vibrant purple and pink-leaved vegetation, whispers traveled from ear to ear and mouth to mouth, accompanied by the faint scent of blooming jasmine in the air.
Wispy clouds, full of fluffy volume, coasted the eternal starry skies. As did the twin moons, mysterious and bewitching, adorning the night sky. Currently in the cycle of 'night', the second moon emerged behind a wispy veil of clouds.
Bathed in its soft but radiant luminescence, the lands of Drak'Moria glistened with liquid silvery stardust as the cascading beams shone down upon all. The palace grounds, grand as they were, were not exempt from such beauty, as the moon's enigmatic tendrils caressed the curtains of various rooms.
One such room exuded an aura different from the rest, for the silvery moon seeped through diaphanous curtains that swayed like ghostly dancers in regal grace, casting an otherworldly glow upon the splendid tapestries within.
The opulence of the chamber was awe-inspiring, with vaulted ceilings gilded with adorned gems and gold, reflecting the moon's ethereal light. Paintings and sculptures beyond value littered the rest of the space, accompanied by the bustle of various handmaidens.
The palpable excitement and anticipation in the room mirrored that of the rest of the kingdom; the air resonated with jubilation. This eve heralded the birth of a new scion, and a potential heir to the throne!
At the window, illuminating the attractive yet elderly appearance of a tall silhouette, stood a butler—a sage-like figure steeped in ancestral knowledge, his greenish-blue eyes hinting at unfounded excitement.
He was a venerable figure etched with loyalty. However, unlike the handmaidens and everyone else in the kingdom, his loyalty did not lie with the throne and the crown in particular. Even so, he was associated by extension.
His sole loyalty remained with the babe in the enchanting Dark Elf, who clung to dear life as she screamed in pain yet underlined with anticipation and maternal love.
He perceived it all; through the hours of her birth, he remained vigilant, a potent mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through him. He knew that this night marked the inception of something grand.
Thus, he turned towards the center of the chamber, where the enchanting, gray-skinned queen—a figure with a gentle but powerful demeanor—reclined upon a plush bed adorned with purple and silver.
Her handmaidens flanked her on all sides, whispering soothing words and tending to her every need. The young heir's impending arrival was eagerly awaited, though the joyous atmosphere was tinged with an undercurrent of uncertainty.
The queen's pregnancy had not been without complications, and with birth rates so low for immortals like themselves—Dark Elves—the King and the entire Kingdom were hoping and praying for the baby to be a male.
Although the butler and his mother couldn't care less, they knew the trajectory of not only the kingdom but also their lives rested on the gender of the child; archaic as it is, in this time of turmoil, marriages needed to be formed, and alliances needed to be secured.
Thus, he watched on in trepidation as the birth unfolded.
"Is everything prepared, Helen?" Queen Felroria hesitantly inquired, her voice barely above a murmur, directed at her most trusted handmaiden, before her groans of pain overtook the room again.
"Yes, your Majesty," Helene replied with a reassuring smile, her eyes gleaming with pride and admiration for the queen. "Everything is in place, and we are ready for the prince… the heir's arrival."
The butler observed the exchange with nervousness and relief. Helen's presence greatly soothed him, as she was very adept at healing, for her cultivation path focused on that. Leaving him with a respite, knowing she would do everything in her power to ensure a smooth and safe delivery.
- - - - -
THE HOURS PASSED as the room seemed to hold its breath, awash with groans of pain and anticipation mounting with each passing minute. The queen's soft gasps filled the chamber, her yells growing louder with each attempt, "A-H-H-H-Ahhh!"
The butler felt a tightening in his chest, praying fervently that this was it, and that both the mother and child were in good health. And then, as the first rays of the green-hued moon painted the horizon—indicating their version of a dim-lit dawn and darkened day cycle—a cry pierced the thickened silence, filling the chamber with the sweet sound of new life.
The queen's handmaiden held up the bloodied child, quickly cleaning him up, swaddling the bundle, and then handing the child back to her queen; tears pooled under her eyes. "It's a boy, your Majesty," the handmaiden announced, her voice trembling with emotion, reciprocated in sighs and joyous chuckles by the others in the room.
The Queen smiled, her face radiant with motherly affection, as she cradled her newborn son. The butler's heart swelled with pride and happiness, witnessing this moment of love and devotion; a moment that would chart the rest of his immortal life.
"Welcome, my son," the queen whispered tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead. "You are a gift from Drak'Moria itself." The queen then turned to the butler with a widened smile before the baby cried out for nourishment, which she happily obliged to.
The butler, turning to leave and give privacy to his queen and his prince, was stopped by her soft words, "Lath'Or." He turned around with the call of his name, raising his eyebrow in confusion, which elicited a chuckle from her before she murmured her next words, knowing only he could hear...
With a wide smile upon his face as he walked out of the room, Lath'Or closed the door gently behind him. He did so, while replaying the words she had spoken to him many times over.
"Felrith, eh?" he whispered to himself, grinning at the good choice of name picked by his queen.
- - - - -
AS THE DAY BROKE, the palace was abuzz with the news of the prince's birth. Lath'Or watched from the sidelines as the royal court celebrated, but deep within him, a sense of concern gnawed at his heart. He knew that the prince's journey would be anything but easy, for the child bore the weight of the kingdom's expectations, and even more heavily, his father's, upon his tiny shoulders.
In the years to come, the young prince would face trials that would test his spirit and soul, and it was Lath'Or's duty to stand by his side, guiding him along the path to find his place.
Little did he know that this newborn prince would be more than anyone could have imagined, for both the right and wrong reasons.
Unbeknownst to him, the young prince would one day awaken to a journey of self-discovery, loss, redemption, and love.
And little did he realize that from birth, he had been assigned to watch over one of The Fallen... But for now, as the palace and kingdom rejoiced in the birth of its prince, the future remained shrouded in uncertainty and possibility.
Thus, the butler remained joyous and gleeful at the prince's healthy and successful birth, as was the kingdom.
For now, at least...
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A/N: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to all the readers who have journeyed with me thus far. As the creator, I must admit that the outcome of this book remains uncertain–it might continue to be available freely or, should it gain significant popularity, I might explore the possibility of signing a contract. Regardless, what I am certain of is the sheer joy I experience while crafting this book and how it continually refines my writing skills.
With that being said, I want to take a moment to give a special shoutout to everyone who has reached this point in the story, and in particular, I want to express my gratitude to AbyssalHunger for their unwavering support throughout my journey as a writer.
To all of you, I wish nothing but the best! Welcome to my tale, where I offer my unique spin on the beloved themes we all cherish!
- Spatial Devil, The Author.