The Grand Convergence
The Celestial Concord—a gathering held once every decade—was meant to be a celebration of unity, a spectacle where the five great kingdoms reaffirmed their loyalty to the god of Balance. But this year, the air was heavy with unspoken truths.
Because this year, the Cursed Ten were present.
Within the Ivory Citadel of Solmara, the grandest structure ever built by mortal hands, banners of gold and white fluttered under the midday sun. Nobles, warriors, scholars, and priests filled the great hall, whispering rumors about the ten children who had been marked by the god's will.
At the heart of it all stood the throne of High King Elric Solmar, ruler of Solmara, and the supposed leader of the mortal world. Before him, ten teenagers were forced to kneel, their very existence a symbol of divine balance.
Each one was different. Each one was cursed.
And none of them wanted to be here.
---
The Cursed Ten Appear
Kael – The Demon of Truth
The first to rise was Kael, the demon-born. His obsidian-black skin was marked with faint glowing runes, his silver eyes cold and piercing. He wore dark robes lined with gold, tailored to the nobility of Draetheus. But even surrounded by royalty, he looked unimpressed.
"This is a farce," he muttered. His voice, smooth yet emotionless, sent a ripple through the crowd.
High King Elric's eyes narrowed. "You will speak when spoken to, demon."
Kael smirked, knowing he couldn't lie, but also knowing his silence would infuriate them more. He turned his gaze to the others, scanning them with unreadable precision.
---
Lysara – The Celestial Exile
Beside him stood Lysara, the celestial-born. She was ethereal, with golden eyes and long silver hair braided over one shoulder. Her pristine white robes bore the sigil of Solmara, but the way she held herself—rigid, distant—made it clear she was no longer welcome here.
She stood straight, her hands clasped together, though her face was unreadable. The whispers around her grew louder.
"She was once the High King's niece."
"A priestess before her curse was revealed."
But Lysara did not react. Her curse made sure of that.
---
Orin – The Giant Who Waits
A deep breath, a slow movement—Orin, the giant-born, stepped forward. He towered over the others, standing nearly eight feet tall, his bronze skin weathered from years in the harsh lands of Gargoth. His dark brown hair was tied back, his heavy furs draped over his broad shoulders.
He looked down at the rulers before him, his dark green eyes calm but thoughtful. He would not speak unless necessary. His curse ensured that.
---
Sylphie – The Fairy Who Forgets
A sharp contrast to Orin was Sylphie, the fairy-born. She was petite, barely five feet tall, with vibrant green hair and iridescent wings that fluttered subtly behind her. Dressed in a loose emerald gown, she looked around with bright curiosity.
"How many of these people have I met before?" she wondered to herself. It didn't matter. She would forget them soon anyway.
She gave a soft laugh, mostly to hide her discomfort. She had lost too much to show her true feelings.
---
Dain – The Human Who Refuses to Die
Where Sylphie radiated light, Dain, the human-born, was the embodiment of exhaustion. His dark, unkempt hair, his ashen skin, and the scarred armor he wore spoke of a life that had seen too much suffering.
He didn't kneel—he didn't even stand straight. He simply slouched forward, his gray eyes lifeless.
The guards beside him flinched when he muttered, "Just get this over with."
He had no reason to fear. He had already died a hundred times.
---
Raze – The Beastkin Shadow
A low growl cut through the air as Raze, the beastkin-born, shifted uncomfortably. His ashen fur, sharp crimson eyes, and wolf-like ears twitched at every sound. He was dressed in simple black leathers, but his sharp claws and fangs made him look more threatening than any armor could.
He stood apart from the others, his body tense. Trust no one. Obey no one. That had been beaten into him long ago.
---
Nyx – The Dragonoid Outcast
Then there was Nyx, the dragonoid-born. Her crimson scales shimmered under the light, her dark violet hair falling over one shoulder. She was silent, her eyes observing everything.
No one would get a word out of her. Not unless she wanted them to.
---
Vale – The Phantom Elf
Beside her, Vale, the elven-born, adjusted the silver circlet on his forehead. He had sharp emerald eyes, his long blond hair perfectly tied back, and his royal blue robes tailored to perfection. Everything about him screamed dignity and control.
Yet inside, he fumed. He knew corruption when he saw it. And this gathering? This was nothing but a display of power.
---
Mira – The Siren of Sorrow
A soft melody hummed through the air as Mira, the siren-born, absently traced patterns in her silk gown. She was mesmerizing—long sapphire hair, pale blue skin, and golden eyes that gleamed under the candlelight.
She smiled, even though she didn't want to.
---
Solas – The Cursed King
The last to stand was Solas, the human prince. He was young, barely sixteen, but his golden eyes held wisdom far beyond his years. His dark navy robes bore the sigil of Solmara, yet he looked more like a wanderer than a royal.
He bowed respectfully. Not out of loyalty, but because he had no pride left to keep.
---
The Judgment Begins
The High King's voice boomed through the hall.
"You ten stand before us as the god's chosen. You are the balance, the enforcers of order. It is time you understand your place."
Silence.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Our place?"
Lysara stood rigid. Orin said nothing. Dain scoffed. Raze growled. Nyx observed. Vale clenched his fists. Mira kept smiling. Solas remained unreadable. Sylphie already felt the memory slipping away.
The god had cursed them to maintain balance.
But none of them had ever agreed to it.
And deep inside, in that grand hall of rulers and divine law, the first seeds of rebellion were sown.