Preparations were underway across the main grounds. Whitewood stands were being adjusted by hand. Garlands of pale blossoms were woven along curved stone railings. Banners in muted greens and silvers hung from living arches. No one shouted instructions. It felt lit they had done this not just for years but for centuries.
Today is the first day of Etdramira, the formal announcement.
I drifted higher, letting myself hover near the canopy. From above, the courtyard looked amazing. The central dais rested beneath the thickest part of the branches. The outer arcs were already filling with gathered elven families. They were dressed accordingly in white and green robes.
Heads turned before footsteps were heard.
She entered from the eastern archway. I slowed down my movement, focusing entirely on her. Every elf bowed.
They placed a hand over their heart and lowered their heads in full acknowledgment. Elders bowed. Warriors bowed. Even members of the Dynasty inclined deeply when she passed. She didn't pause to receive it. She didn't look around to measure it. She simply walked forward with her staff touching stone lightly with each step. I circled her slowly, studying her Divine Presence. Nature Energy didn't flare around her dramatically.
She reached the central dais — grown from intertwined whitewood and stone — and took her place at its northern edge. Two lesser priestesses bowed deeply before her. She acknowledged them with a slight incline of her head.
I drifted over the courtyard, passing through garlands and banners as the elves settled into their quiet pre-ceremonial rhythm. Clusters of elves gathered around the central dais. Their voices stayed low. No one was loud. Even excitement here had discipline.
I slipped between two elders discussing lineage records.
"The alignment of the Dynasty has strengthened this cycle," one said calmly.
"As it should," the other replied. "Continuity is balance after all."
Okay, whatever that means...
Music floated faintly from the western edge. The morning was almost peaceful enough to lull someone into forgetting the weight of what today meant.
And then I saw Darling in his elven form.
He stood near the western arc of the courtyard. His hair fell longer in this form with pale strands brushing his shoulders before being loosely tied back. He wasn't alone though.
Three elven women stood near him. They weren't fawning — elves don't do that apparently— but they were absolutely admiring him.
One of them smiled softly. "My Lord, your presence honors this ceremony. We weren't certain you would attend in person."
Huh. So they knew it was him? So much for the elven disguise.
"I wouldn't miss it. Etdramira is a tradition. Besides, it deserves witnesses, does it not?"
Of course he says something like that.
Another woman, her braids adorned with silver blossoms, tilted her head. "You speak as though you've always belonged here."
"Belonging isn't always about origin. Sometimes it's about intention."
They looked at him like he just recited sacred poetry. He listened when they spoke. When one mentioned how her family restored part of the silver orchards after coming to this realm, he asked thoughtful questions about the soil renewal process. When another spoke about past ceremonies she witnessed as a child, he smiled gently and encouraged her to continue.
I hovered a little closer than I meant to. I felt irrational irritation tightening somewhere in my not-technically-physical chest. Of course they admired him. He was tall, composed, intelligent and gentle without any weakness. He laughed softly at something one of them said. And when one of them lightly touched his sleeve while speaking, he didn't pull away abruptly but he also didn't lean into it. His boundaries were subtle but firm.
I drifted backward slightly, trying to pretend I wasn't watching him too closely. That's when I noticed Elyonari standing at the northern dais. Her posture was immaculate. Anyone glancing at her would see only serenity.
Vastarael didn't notice. He was still speaking gently with the women. They exchanged soft, impressed looks but they hardly listened to his words. Meanwhile, Elyonari hadn't moved.
The morning continued its steady progression. Servants carried trays of fruit and delicate pastries through the crowd. Musicians shifted from tuning into light melodic sequences. Children whispered questions about when the High Priestess would perform the confirmation.
Vastarael finally excused himself from the group with a gentle bow.
"If you'll forgive me, I should take my place."
Elyonari's grip on her staff tightened. Without warning, she stepped forward. The sharp sound of her staff striking stone cut through the courtyard.
Silence fell instantly. Every conversation died mid-sentence. Every head turned.
I knew it. Of course she couldn't wait until midday for the announcement.
"A bloom stirs within the roots of Mintheris."
For half a breath, confusion rippled through the crowd. The ritual gesture hadn't happened. The timing was off. The sequence was broken. Then the meaning overtook protocol.
Relief and joy washed over gathered families when they understood the news. For elves, who usually respond to anything life-changing with polite nods and murmuring, this was basically dropping a firework into a library. People are smiling openly, laughing softly and some elders clap twice before remembering to slow down and be dignified like that was the plan all along.
Classic elves.
Veylonar, naturally, looks like he's proud enough to spontaneously combust. Not that he'd show it outwardly—he's too elfly dignified for that—but I saw it. His ears went slightly pink. Celadille, on the other hand, glows that serene, otherworldly glow that says, 'yes, I am carrying life, and yes, I know you're all staring at my stomach.'
And then Elyonari adds that little line.
"The announcement may be early but I could not wait to share the news. The Monarch and Monarchess are going to be parents."
Oh. Could not wait? This is the woman who hasn't done anything explicit with Darling yet because she's patient. In fact, she's extremely patient and now she "couldn't wait" to tell everyone?
Yeah, sure. Totally innocent. Definitely not because my darling has been talking to some very attentive elven ladies who apparently just rediscovered breathing. Totally unrelated.
I saw the shift in her posture immediately. That is pure, unadulterated, High Priestess-level jealousy.
Darling, of course, noticed. He buried the suspicion so deep that it almost fooled me for a second. Then Elyonari raised her staff one last time, standing taller than before, and declares,
"This is the first day of Etdramira. It is a celebration. So celebrate."
By the way, elves do not party like other races.
There's no chaotic yelling, no spilling drinks, no accidental cannonball into the nearest fountain like most races fo. Instead, they laugh melodically, form perfect circles for dancing and never bumping into each other. Trays of food and carved fruit surround the place.
Oh, and also, Elves don't eat meat. Except Ely, apparently.
Veylonar and Celadille were surrounded, not by bowing subjects but by family-level teasing and warmth. Elders whispered blessings, young adults offered smiles and young children gave them flowers too.
One cheeky elf added, "You're going to be insufferable about this," and Veylonar just shrugged, "I already am." Celadille leaned toward him, laughing softly, and they start moving in rhythm with the music, like they've been rehearsing since birth.
Darling, meanwhile, bows properly, congratulates Celadille, and then just… stood under sunlight like an actual angel of doom. And yes, some of the elven ladies from before drift near him again.
Elyonari, from her slightly elevated vantage, hands folded around her staff again, didn't look too pleased about that.
And so the dancing and singing begins. Children run around. An elder gets pulled into a dance circle, protests slightly, then commits fully. And I'm up here, floating, watching the High Priestess pretend she didn't just fast-forward the announcement because she was jealous of who Darling was talking to.