The frostbound oath

The Phoenix Clan - Immortal Realm

[Queen Flavia's Chamber]

"Is it time? Time to return?" a mysterious woman in white murmured, her voice ethereal yet heavy with meaning. She stood amidst a glowing mist, her silhouette blending with the light as though she were part of the heavens themselves.

"I don't know," she continued, her gaze distant and forlorn. "Will I meet him in this lifetime? Ah... the world is preparing for its worst. I must come soon." Her voice carried an urgency that echoed into the void, fading as Flavia's consciousness began to stir.

Queen Flavia's eyes snapped open, her chest heaving as if she had been holding her breath. Moonlight filtered through the intricately carved windows of her chamber, casting a silvery glow on the walls. She sat upright, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her silk bedsheets. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the fragments of the dream swirled in her mind like pieces of a shattered mirror.

"Who was she?" Flavia whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the faint rustle of the night breeze. "Why did she say the world is preparing for its worst? And why did she appear in my dreams?"

She pressed her palms against her forehead, trying to make sense of the vision. The woman's words felt heavy, as though they carried the weight of destiny itself. But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, she couldn't shake the unease that gripped her heart.

"Dreams aren't real... right?" she murmured, attempting to convince herself. Yet, in the quiet depths of her soul, a small voice whispered otherwise. Not all dreams are mere illusions, it seemed to say.

One Year Later

The Phoenix Clan was a flurry of activity. Every corner of the majestic palace buzzed with anticipation, the air alive with excitement and nerves. Servants moved swiftly through the grand halls, carrying silks, flowers, and ceremonial items. The royal astrologers consulted their celestial charts, ensuring that everything was aligned for the arrival of the clan's princess.

Queen Flavia, despite her usual composure, felt a mix of emotions as the moment approached. She rested in her chamber, her hands gently cradling her rounded belly. Her attendants flitted about, but her mind was elsewhere—on the strange dream she'd had a year ago. Though she had dismissed it as a fleeting figment, it lingered in her heart like an unspoken warning.

As the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, an unusual chill settled over the Immortal Realm. The air grew still and cold, an unnatural frost creeping across the gardens of the palace. Then, as if by divine decree, the sky lit up with seven radiant rainbows, their colors vibrant and otherworldly. The clan elders, watching from the palace courtyards, exchanged looks of awe and reverence.

In that moment, a piercing cry echoed from Queen Flavia's chamber. It was the cry of new life.

Inside the chamber, the palace maid carefully wrapped the newborn in a soft blanket, her hands trembling slightly as she held the tiny figure. She stepped out of the room, her face radiant as she carried the infant toward King Klaus, who stood waiting with bated breath. Klaus—Earth Emperor and one of the last disciples of the Ancient Gods—felt his heart swell as his eyes fell upon his daughter for the first time.

"Finally," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "I can see my daughter." Tears filled his eyes, and he reached out to gently take the infant in his arms. "I will do everything in my power to make her the best in the world."

Klaus stepped into Flavia's chamber, carrying their daughter with utmost care. Flavia looked up at him, her face glowing with both exhaustion and joy. As he approached, she opened her arms, and the three of them embraced, a perfect picture of love and unity.

Flavia, known throughout the realm for her unwavering strength and regal demeanor, let her tears fall freely. She had always been a pillar of resilience, a queen who never allowed herself to show weakness. But now, as she held her daughter in her arms, she felt a profound warmth melt away her stern exterior.

Klaus noticed the change, his gaze softening. "You've never cried before," he said gently. "At least, not in front of me."

Flavia smiled through her tears. "Perhaps motherhood has softened me," she replied, her voice tender. "Or perhaps it's because this is the happiest moment of my life."

She looked down at her daughter, her expression full of wonder. "Have you decided on a name for her?" she asked, glancing up at Klaus. "I've heard you mention a few possibilities."

Klaus chuckled softly. "I've thought about it, but I haven't decided yet," he admitted. "A name reflects the hopes and expectations parents have for their child. But I don't want her to live within the bounds of my expectations. I want her to surpass them, to reach heights I cannot even imagine."

Flavia tilted her head thoughtfully. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the seven rainbows still shimmered brightly against the twilight sky. "Did you see those rainbows when she was born?" she asked, her voice filled with awe. "It felt as though the goddess of the rainbow herself was blessing her. How about the name... Iris?"

Klaus's face lit up, his smile broad and unrestrained. "Iris," he repeated, as though tasting the name. He looked down at their daughter, cradling her close. "My little princess, from this day forward, you shall be called Iris."