The grand hall shimmered with an almost ethereal elegance, a breathtaking spectacle of light and shadow. Silver banners, meticulously draped from the towering ceiling, swayed almost imperceptibly with the gentle breeze flowing in from the open balcony arches.
Candlelight flickered from countless glass sconces adorning the walls and from luminous, floating orbs suspended in the air, casting warm, dancing glows across the polished marble floor. Music hummed softly in the background, a melody exquisitely chosen for celebration, yet subtly underscored by the ever-present hum of tension that never truly left the heart of Bloodfang.
Lyra stood near the dais, a focal point in the glittering assembly. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her, a gesture of quiet grace, as her eyes moved sl
