The Sovereign Gathering had begun in full.
Across the towering halls of Heartland,
envoys, sovereign heirs, warlords, hidden powers —
all moved carefully.
Each word measured.
Each gesture calculated.
Because now, they knew:
They stood not before mere men and women.
They stood before Sovereigns.
Inside the Sovereign Hall
The air was thick —
not with fear,
but with the electric tension of destiny being forged.
Kaelen sat calmly at the World-Tree Council table,
his red-golden eyes reflecting the banners of foreign Realms.
At his sides,
his companions and family radiated Sovereign pressure effortlessly:
Mira, silent and sharp, shadows dancing faintly around her.
Riven, flame coiling lazily at his fingertips.
Selina, golden Sovereign Light pooling like a quiet sun.
Lyanna, weaving unseen arrays into the very fabric of the hall.
Damon and Eren, seated like mountains given breath.
Lyra, a storm caged in the form of a girl.
Aria, silverfire Sovereign Queen, her gaze steady and unflinching.
Their mere presence silenced the room more than armies ever could.
The First Offers
The Verdant Nexus envoy knelt first.
"We pledge our forests,
our Guardians,
our blood.
Grant us a place under the Sovereign Sky."
Kaelen inclined his head slightly.
"Rise.
Those who walk with dreams are welcome."
The Nexus envoy bowed again, weeping openly.
One Realm bound.
One step closer to eternity.
The Second Envoys: The Hidden Blade
A delegation from the Obsidian Throne stepped forward.
Clad in black Sovereign armor,
faces hidden,
their leader spoke sharply:
"We offer tribute.
We offer warriors.
But we demand rights to establish military strongholds within your Holy Land."
The hall tensed.
A demand — disguised as diplomacy.
An insult.
Mira's daggers gleamed under the table.
Riven's flame flared instinctively.
Kaelen's smile was calm.
But it did not reach his eyes.
"Heartland is not for sale."
"Nor for occupation."
"Those who seek footholds here will find only graves."
The Obsidian envoys bowed stiffly and withdrew.
Not yet daring to test Heartland's new Sovereign fire.
But the threat was clear.
They would not yield easily.
Whispers of Greater Movements
Across Heartland,
spies whispered of other movements:
The Shrouded Courts — ancient hidden kingdoms — preparing to send more veiled agents.
The Crimson Citadel — a sovereign academy for future warlords — debating whether to challenge Heartland's rise.
And…
the first Silverleaf Scouts — elves with eyes like moonlight — were seen at Heartland's eastern edges.
The Elves were coming.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
And with them, the ancient songs of Sovereign Destiny.
Aria's Reflection
Later that night,
Aria stood atop the Sovereign Pavilion's highest tower,
watching the lights of the growing Nation below.
She felt the pull of the future.
Of battles yet to be fought.
Of choices that would shape ages.
And she smiled faintly.
Because they were ready.
Not perfect.
Not invincible.
But unbreakable.
"We were born in the ashes," she thought.
"Now we dance in the stars."
Kaelen's Silent Promise
At the heart of Heartland's Holy Land,
Kaelen knelt briefly at the ancient Heartstone.
He placed a hand against its warm surface —
feeling the Sovereign Pulse syncing with his blood.
"We will not fall.
We will not kneel.
We will build a home the heavens themselves will envy."
The Heartstone flared softly in answer.
And across the Holy Land,
those bound to Kaelen's dream — family, friends, future Sovereigns —
felt the quiet promise settle into their bones:
You are not alone.
You are not forgotten.
You are Eternal.