Laura stepped out of her carriage, the silver trident gleaming in her hand, its polished surface catching the light of Titania’s perpetual morning sunlight. She stood there for a moment, taking in the magnificent citadel that dwarfed even the royal castle beside it. The titans gathered beyond the gates gazed at her with expressions of confusion and whispered amongst themselves.

  Everybody had expected Dephenus and Imaia, not their daughter.

  Laura could sense that, but she was determined not to shrink, especially at that moment

  “Greetings,” Laura called out, her voice carrying across the courtyard with practiced poise.

  She held the trident with a grip that betrayed her unfamiliarity with it, yet she stood tall, determined to represent her father with dignity. The silence that followed was palpable. Permeus was the first to react, his eyebrows rising in surprise before he composed himself and stepped forward.

  “Lala,” he said, his voice warm but tinged with confusion. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

  “Trust me, I can see that,” she assured him

  “No,” he replied, for fear of having offended her

  “It is just we had thought your parents...”

  “Would join you instead?” Laura completed his statement.

  “Well, I had to come in their stead,” she added.

  Desia made an audible sound of displeasure. Her sky-blue eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. The tension between them was immediate and unmistakable.

  “Excuse Dede,” Permeus pleaded

  “She is just as surprised as the rest of us,” he added

  “Well, her surprise sounds a lot different from the rest of yours,” Laura noted

  “I know it is just that this meeting is normally for...”

  “Origins only,” Desia muttered, though loud enough for those nearby to hear. “This meeting is for Origins only.”

  Laura’s grip tightened on the trident, but she maintained her composure.

  “Well then, My father and mother send their deepest regrets,” she said, addressing the group but focusing on Permeus and Imara. “They asked me to represent the realm of Dephenai in their place.”

  Imara stepped forward, her green eyes lighting up with genuine joy at seeing her sister. She embraced Laura warmly, ignoring the protocol of formal greetings.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Laura,” Imara said, stepping back to look at her.

  “You’ve grown even more beautiful since I last saw you.” She continued.

  “You mean last year” Laura asked sarcastically

  “Has it really been that long” Imara added with her own snarky voice

  Laura dropped the act and smiled gratefully at her.

  “Thank you, sister.” She said, warming her voice.

  “You are welcome,” Imara replied

  “Oh, and Father and Mother send their love to you and the girls.” She added.

  “Well, I can’t wait to return it when you escort us back to Dephenai after the meeting.”

  Permeus who had been standing there all this time simply and awkwardly cleared his throat.

  “Yes, well... that is... we are pleased to have you here representing Dephenai.” He gestured toward the silver trident. “That’s... quite an impressive artifact you have there.”

  Laura lifted the trident slightly.

  “A gift from my father. He thought it might help me feel more... official.” She elaborated.

  “Is it working?” he asked

  “Not sure,” she admitted

  “It’s beautiful,” Imara said, admiring the craftsmanship.

  “Well, father always had an eye for elegant weapons.” Laura replied cooly.

  “He would have to, for how paranoid he often is,” Permeus added

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  “Permeus,” Imara said, striking Permeus on the arm

  “What it is not like he is here to deny it,” Permeus argued.

  Desia stepped closer, her purple dress rustling around her short frame, clearly hell-bent on breaking up whatever this was.

  “The council was established for Origins to discuss matters of import to the realms we created,” she said, her voice deceptively soft.

  “Not for their... offspring, no matter how well-intentioned,” Desia continued

  “Careful, you sound like Darkeus,” Permeus warned her

  “Desia,” Imara said, a warning in her tone. “Laura is here at Dephenus’ request.”

  “Does not make her an Origin though,” Desia argued

  “But she is still your niece; thus, it would do you some good to respect her a little,” Imara shot back.

  Laura was proud of her sister for standing up for her but felt like she really did not need it that much. She herself knew she was not an Origin and could never quite be one, but she appreciated it.

  “Plus Dede, She is representing one of the founding realms,” Permeus added.

  “If Dephenus and Imaia have chosen her to speak on her behalf, then she is welcome here.” The Origin of Immortality said, exercising his authority as host.

  Truthfully, that must have been the first time in forever Laura had ever seen or heard Permeus exercise authority. Desia’s face remained impassive though, but her eyes flashed with annoyance. She opened her mouth to respond when suddenly the atmosphere shifted as another carriage approached.

  Horses of pure darkness pulled this one, their hooves leaving trails of shadow as they trotted toward the citadel gates. The carriage itself was elegant but austere, with no ornamental flourishes, only smooth obsidian surfaces.

  The carriage door opened, and Dalia emerged, her pale face a stark contrast to her dark black hair and dress. She moved with a calm, measured grace, but her eyes betrayed a hint of wariness as she surveyed the assembled Origins.

  “Greetings,” she said simply, her voice carrying across the courtyard.

  An awkward silence descended over the group. Dalia’s gaze met Desia’s, and Laura could immediately tell something unspoken came out of Desia and, by the looks of it, made the Origin of Night feel a tad uncomfortable.

  Laura, sensing Dalia’s discomfort, discreetly nudged Permeus.

  “Perhaps you should welcome her,” she whispered.

  Permeus started, as if suddenly remembering his duties as host.

  “Dalia,” he said, stepping forward with a broad smile. “Welcome to Titania. We are honored that you are joining us on this momentous occasion.”

  Dalia inclined her head slightly. “I am grateful for the invitation...though I do apologize for my latency.”

  “No need of apologies sister, It is a time for celebration,” Permeus continued, his voice growing in confidence.

  “This is the fiftieth anniversary of our union, and now we welcome a new member to our council.” He gestured expansively. “I believe we should prepare for the ball. Knowing Helus, he will be fashionably late as always.”

  A ripple of polite laughter moved through the group, breaking some of the tension.

  “Indeed,” Darkeus muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Our esteemed leader does enjoy entering. No need of waiting. "

  “Then let us not waste another moment,” Permeus declared. He turned to face the crowd of titans beyond the gates. “My people, we shall return for the grand celebrations! Prepare yourselves for a night of revelry and joy!”

  The titans cheered enthusiastically, their silver skin gleaming in the fading light. Permeus and the other Origins bowed once to acknowledge them, then turned toward the castle.

  As they walked, Laura found herself beside Dalia. She took the chance to be the first to greet her properly, as she had promised her mother and father.

  “I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting properly,” Laura said. “I’m Laura, daughter of Dephenus and Imaia.”

  “Thank you, I’m Dalia,” she introduced herself, “Origin of the Night. "

  “Trust me, I know who you are,” Laura assured her. “I am pretty sure everybody does as well.”

  “Well...thanks for the greeting anyway,” Dalia replied

  “You’re very welcome,” Laura responded

  As they entered the castle, servants directed them to their respective chambers to prepare for the evening’s festivities. Laura found herself assigned to a luxurious suite near what were supposed to be her aunt and uncle’s royal quarters.

  When she entered, she placed the silver trident carefully against the wall and sank onto a plush couch. She hadn’t been there half an hour, but the weight of responsibility her father had placed upon her shoulders already felt overwhelming.

  She had to remind herself that not only was she representing the Sea Realm, but she was also the only non-Origin present at what was clearly a delicate political gathering despite her previous findings proving it to be all that trivial an occurrence.

  A soft knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

  “Enter,” she called.

  Imara stepped into the room, having changed from her traveling clothes into a simple but elegant robe.

  “I thought you might want some company,” she said, sitting beside Laura.

  “Really?” Laura asked. “What gave you that idea?”

  “This can all be a bit... intense.” Imara replied.

  “How would you know?” Laura asked

  “I have seen the stress it causes firsthand,” Imara answered

  “On Permeus?” Laura asked

  “On Germaine,” Imara corrected her

  Laura then let out a comically long sigh of understanding before smiling gratefully as she watched her sister giggle.

  “Well, stress is an understatement. I feel like I’ve stepped into a viper’s nest wearing nothing but a flimsy snake disguise.” She admitted Imara laughed.

  “You’re more astute than most give you credit for.” She sighed, looking around the opulent room. “The Origins can be... difficult. Each one bound to their nature, unable to see beyond it sometimes.”

  “Like Desia?” Laura asked. “She seemed unhappy to see me.”

  Imara’s expression grew troubled on hearing that.

  “Desia is a compassionate leader, but she has always been one to tell the difference between Origin and creation. The only non-Origins she reacts with frivolously are my daughters, and that is just because they are impossible not to love,” Imara explained.

  “So she simply doesn’t think a non-Origin belongs on the council. Good to know,” Laura replied, knowing subconsciously she felt the same way.

  “I suppose so,” Imara conceded.

  “But don’t let it trouble you. You are here because Father believes in you, and that’s what matters.” She reached over and squeezed Laura’s hand. “Now, shall we prepare for this ball? I believe we both have some impressing to do.”

  Laura nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “Yes, I believe we do.”

  As Imara left, Laura moved to the window and gazed out over Titania. The realm was truly beautiful, with its endless fields of Mystia glowing softly in the sunlight.

  She thought of her father’s words

  Carry yourself as an Origin would.

  It was an impossible standard, yet she would try. For her father, for her mother, and perhaps most importantly, for herself.