The Kingdom of Elvendor: Curse of the Forgotten

The Gilded Cage

I clumsily bumped into the door as their weightless swing betrayed their enormous size and caught me by surprise. My eyes scanned the room and its beauty made me speechless.

The chamber beyond was vast, its domed ceiling painted with an image of the cosmos. Stars glittered and shifted as though alive, casting a faint, ethereal glow over the room. Tall columns, adorned by engraved Elven architecture, were caught in a curtain of vines, embracing them like a mother embraces its newborn babe. their grand chairs each reflecting the distinct glamor of their lineage. Above them, the names of their families—Vespera, Ignis, Lumino, Dragonis, and Valerius—glowed faintly, shimmering with quiet power. Their expressions were serene but sharp, like they already knew the measure of my soul.

The center of the room held a pedestal, upon which rested a shallow, crystal-clear bowl. Runes shimmered around its edges, and a faint hum of power was hanging in the air.

Nymeria Vespera was one of the rare elites who genuinely sought to help the weak. She was also the first to address me. "Step forward, my child." I felt kindness in her voice, and had no qualms about what earned her admiration from many citizens.

I took a deep breath and followed her commands. My heart pounded and the crystal around my neck felt heavy, tightening with every step like a noose on a man that's about to be hanged. This was it. No turning back now. 

This was it. No turning back now.

I remembered the whispers in the orphanage, the stories of others and what they had conjured during their Luminaras.

As a huge number of us came from poverty, it wasn't surprising that a majority fell into the first tier. Low-tier elves often produced soft blue streams, calm, precise and steady. Nothing fancy, but impressive to an outside observer nevertheless. Advanced tiers brought forth streams that radiated in green or yellow colours, their light dancing like ribbons caught in a breeze. And the elite... their magic was unforgettable. Fiery reds, deep purples, or shimmering whites that filled the chamber with undeniable power.

What would mine be? Or worse. What if I end up not having any power at all? The thought of standing there, empty-handed, while the judges' eyes bored into me, made my stomach twist. I quickly tried to chase the thought away. "Think happy thoughts", I murmured to myself. What if... what if it was more? Something they hadn't seen before.

Yeah, and the pigs could fly. It was foolish to dream too high. Magic didn't work like that. Not for people like me.

"Place your crystal into the basin," intoned Talanor Dragonis, Orlians father. His golden eyes were fixed on me and his expression told me he wanted to be anywhere but here. Known for his cruelty and arrogance, Talanor made no effort to hide his disdain for anyone beneath his station. He loathed the idea of commoners wielding magic, justifying his bigotry with claims of protecting us from misuse. But we all knew his true intent: control. To turn us into pawns for his ambitions. Calling him unpopular would have been a vast understatement.

I reached up with trembling fingers, unclasped the pendant with the crystal and held the latter in my palm. The warmth it always carried was gone. I was replaced by a cold, heavy stillness.

"Go on, now. Hurry up," Talanor urged me with an annoyed tone.

Poor old man, I thought, stifling a smirk. Must be aching to get back to his heroic pastime of glaring at his reflection.

I stepped closer and placed the crystal into the bowl. The moment my fingers left its surface, the runes flared to life and the hum grew louder. Light flooded the room, intensifying until even the air felt charged, as though the chamber itself was holding its breath.