[: 3rd POV :]

The grand hall fell into a hushed anticipation as the final announcement echoed through the crystalline speakers, soft yet commanding.

The air seemed to shift, a subtle energy rippling through the gathered nobles, rulers, and dignitaries.

"Presenting the Imperial Family of the Spirit Continent."

The heavy doors at the far end of the hall swung open with regal grace, revealing a procession unlike any before.

At the forefront stood Empress Sylvene Luminara, a figure whose ethereal presence seemed to bend the very light around her.

Her robes shimmered with a silvery-blue glow, embroidered with delicate patterns reminiscent of stars and flowing rivers.

Behind her walked her two daughters — Seraphina Luminara, poised with serene grace, her eyes deep pools of wisdom beyond her years, and the younger Mirielle Luminara, whose lively spirit sparkled in her playful smile, though her gaze carried the weight of responsibility she had yet to fully embrace.

Trailing behind them were twelve High Oracles, each a paragon of mystical power and revered wisdom.

Their flowing garments shifted with subtle colours, as if alive with the spirits they communed with.

Each Oracle was accompanied by their daughters — twelve young women of exquisite beauty and untold potential, their eyes bright with anticipation and the calm steadiness of those trained to see beyond mortal perception.

The crowd collectively inhaled, caught between awe and reverence.

One of the High Oracles, Lady Virella, spoke softly to a nearby noble, "The Spirit Empress carries the burden of foresight. It is said that when she narrows her eyes thus, the veil between worlds grows thin."

Empress Sylvene herself paused just inside the doors, her gaze sweeping across the assembly.

Her eyes narrowed, a shadow crossing her luminous face.

"I sense a bad omen," she whispered, more to herself than to those around her, her voice low but weighted with ancient dread.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

"What could it be?" murmured a young noblewoman.

"Troubles stir, surely. The Spirit Continent's Empress does not speak lightly."

Meanwhile, across the hall, groups of nobles exchanged glances — admiration for the Spirit Empress's ethereal beauty mixed with unease at her cryptic warning.

The initial awe soon softened into a vibrant hum of activity as the banquet commenced.

The vast buffet tables, laden with delicacies from every corner of the world, invited guests to indulge.

But more than the food, it was the chance to mingle with the imperial families that drew eager attention.

Groups of ambitious nobles edged closer to the royal entourages, attempting delicate conversation starters.

A confident young lord approached Seraphina with a practised smile, "Your Highness, the tales of your prophetic visions are well known. Might I be so bold as to ask what you foresee for the future of our realms?"

Seraphina's gaze lifted slowly, meeting his eyes with calm dignity.

"I see many paths," she said softly but firmly, "and the choices of today will shape the world of tomorrow''

''But true sight comes from understanding, not merely from asking."

The lord bowed slightly, sensing the polite distance, and retreated with a respectful nod.

Nearby, Mirielle was approached by a daring merchant's son, who attempted a charming quip.

"Lady Mirielle, perhaps you'd care to dance later and share a vision of the stars with me?"

Mirielle's lips curved in a polite smile, but her eyes remained resolute.

"I appreciate the offer," she replied gently, "but tonight is for honouring history and forging bonds of duty. Maybe another time."

The merchant's son laughed softly, conceding gracefully.

Despite the polite rejections, the atmosphere remained cordial and alive with intrigue.

Families exchanged stories and laughter, and alliances were whispered into existence beneath the chandeliers' golden glow.

As the night deepened, the beauty and presence of the Spirit Continent's imperial family left an indelible impression on all present — a reminder that beneath the celebrations lay the silent, watchful eyes of fate itself.

The soft murmur of conversations filled the grand hall—noble voices weaving tales of politics, power, and fleeting moments of levity.

Amidst the flowing silks and murmured greetings, Caelira, Rika, Kiel, and Manork stood in a small circle, each engaged in quiet conversation with their families.

Yet, as they spoke, their eyes caught one another across the bustling room—an unspoken recognition flashing like lightning through the crowd.

Suddenly, their faces lit up with a warmth that cut through the formal atmosphere.

"Kiel!" Caelira's voice rang out, filled with relief and joy.

"Manork!" Rika called, her tone bright yet tender.

"Caelira!" Kiel exclaimed, stepping forward eagerly.

"Rika!" Manork's smile broadened as he moved closer.

In an instant, the four of them crossed the distance between them, drawn together by bonds that transcended the grand occasion.

They embraced tightly, a reunion that seemed to hold back the weight of the world itself.

Around them, heads turned—whispers fluttered like a breeze through the gathering.

Yet, the four paid no mind to the attention they garnered.

For them, the moment was sacred, a brief sanctuary from the worries that clung to their hearts.

They held each other for a long, steady thirty seconds—each breath shared, each heartbeat a silent vow of solidarity.

When they finally parted, Caelira's lips trembled as she spoke, her voice soft and laden with emotion.

"How have you all been...?" she murmured, her eyes searching theirs as a mother would after a long absence, despite the weeks only just passed.

Kiel met her gaze with a steady nod.

"We're holding on. Though the days have been heavy."

Rika gave a small, hopeful smile.

"We've been searching, pushing our forces harder than ever. Still no trace, but we haven't given up."

Manork's expression was grave but resolute.

"Every moment apart is a burden. But we carry hope—as long as it burns, there is still a way."

Caelira reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Rika's face. "I know you all are strong''

Kiel squeezed Caelira's hand reassuringly.

Rika nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears. "We will find him. Together."

A faint smile broke through the sorrow on Caelira's face. "Together."

After a few moments of quiet reflection, the weight of unspoken fears finally pressed down on Caelira's heart.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with the gravity of what she was about to ask.

"So..." she began, glancing at each of them with a desperate hope flickering in her eyes.

''Did any of you...find any trace of Daniel? Any clue to where he might be?"

The question hung heavy in the air like a fragile thread, and for a long heartbeat, none dared answer.

One by one, Rika, Kiel, and Manork slowly shook their heads.

Caelira bit her lip, the sharp edge of disappointment cutting through her resolve.

But deep inside, she knew better than to blame them. If even she—the Empress of the Elven Continent, with her vast resources and ancient wisdom—could not locate him, what chance did anyone else have?

A painful silence settled between them, filled with the unyielding absence of answers.

Rika finally broke it, her voice soft yet tinged with frustration.

"Isn't it strange," she said, "that even with all of our powers, all the armies and magic at our disposal... we still can't find him?"

Their eyes met hers, and a deep, uneasy nod passed between them as they all mulled over the impossibility.

Manork's brow furrowed, voice low and thoughtful.

"I've been thinking about that, too. With all our abilities—tracking, scrying, even the ancient treasures—there's nothing. It's like he vanished into thin air. Why? How?"

Kiel took a breath, stepping forward, his tone careful but analytical.

"I asked my father about this once. He said only those who possess teleportation—or a similar spatial power—at Gold rank or above could forcibly move others between continents."

He glanced around the group, eyes steady.

"Daniel teleporting us back... before he had even awakened that power… it must have been unstable, uncontrolled. Yet somehow, he managed it."

Kiel's gaze darkened with the weight of his words.

"The fact that he brought us back to our own continents—his subconscious must have guided him to the safest place he knew."

Caelira's fingers clenched tightly, her voice thick with a mix of fear and determination.

"So, he's hidden himself away... using that power without even knowing it. A refuge beyond our reach."

Rika's jaw tightened, resolve hardening in her eyes.

"Then our search might be harder than before''

Manork's voice was quiet but fierce.

"We have to be ready for whatever we find. If he's trapped by his own power… or something darker...we'll face it together."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence stretching long as each grappled with the invisible chains binding their lost brother and son.

And yet, beneath the weight of uncertainty, a fragile spark of hope flickered—a promise that no matter how deep the shadows, they would not abandon him.

"Me and Kiel have thoroughly investigated the Ashburn family,"

Manork said, his tone grim and edged with frustration.

"But there's no sign of Daniel anywhere. No whispers, no hidden dealings, nothing. So, that avenue is closed for now."

A heavy silence followed, the weight of dead ends pressing down on them all.

Rika's voice broke through the stillness, trembling with a mix of anxiety and disbelief.

"It's rare—almost unheard of—for someone to wield their powers before fully awakening. History has proven it impossible."

She bit her lip, her eyes searching the faces around her, desperate for an answer that none could give.

"But the real question is…" she continued, her voice growing firmer, "where is Daniel? And why can't we find him, no matter what we do?"

Caelira's gaze drifted to the distant window, the fading light reflecting the turmoil inside her.

After a pause that felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice calm but heavy with resolve.

"To find Daniel," she said, drawing everyone's attention, "there is only one method I can think of."

The others leaned in, curiosity and hope flickering through their expressions.

"I will invoke the Promise of Time with the Overseer—the Empress of the Spirit Continent."

At the mention of the Promise of Time, their eyes widened collectively, the weight of that ancient bond settling heavily upon them.

Manork's brows furrowed as he glanced at Caelira.

"The Promise of Time… that old agreement between the First Generation Overseer and all the Rulers?"

Caelira nodded solemnly.

"Yes. It's a favour owed across generations—one that grants a temporary bending or sharing of time and fate itself. Only called upon in the direst of circumstances."

Rika swallowed hard, the enormity of Caelira's words sinking in.

"That power… it could pierce through the veils hiding Daniel, wherever he may be."

"But it's not something to be taken lightly," Caelira warned, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The Promise comes with a price. Time is the one thing even rulers cannot create or recover once spent."

Kiel's jaw clenched, determination shining through his worry.

"We have no other choice. If there's any chance to find him, to bring him back—then we must take it."

Manork nodded, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes undiminished.

"Whatever the cost, Daniel is worth it."

A profound silence enveloped the group as each contemplated the uncertain path ahead.