Erythro: The Prophecy Unveiled

The sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the opulence of the Carthage Palace. It was five in the afternoon, and the final touches were being applied to a spectacle that would be the envy of empires. The annual royal ball was imminent, and the palace had been transformed into a fairytale realm. Invitations, adorned with gold leaf and wax seals bearing the imperial crest, had been dispatched to the nobility, royalty, and affluent elite of the five empires.

A symphony of white and red roses cascaded down the palace hallways, their petals unfurling like delicate promises. The grand staircase, a masterpiece of marble and gold, was cloaked in a crimson carpet that seemed to shimmer in the soft lamplight. It led to the heart of the palace, the grand hall, a cavernous space that had been meticulously adorned for the occasion.

The grand hall was a breathtaking tableau of opulence and elegance. Towering white pillars, polished to a mirror sheen, supported a ceiling adorned with intricate frescoes depicting mythological gods and goddesses. A colossal chandelier, a dazzling constellation of crystal and gold, hung suspended from the center of the hall, casting a magical glow over the room.

Walls were draped in rich velvet, embroidered with silver and gold thread, creating a tapestry of shimmering color. An abundance of fresh flowers, in every hue imaginable, were arranged in lavish displays, filling the air with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance. At one end of the hall, a raised platform had been erected for the royal family and their guests of honor. It was draped in ivory silk and flanked by two towering candelabras, their flames dancing in the evening breeze. An orchestra, composed of the kingdom's finest musicians, was already in place, their instruments gleaming in anticipation.

A veritable army of servants, both high and mid-level, scurried about the hall, their movements precise and efficient. The male servants, attired in sleek black suits, resembled a corps of elegant waiters, while the female maids wore simple yet elegant black uniforms that complemented the hall's decor. Each servant wore a discreet name tag, ensuring that guests would be attended to with the utmost care.

Their faces were lightly made up, presenting a polished and professional appearance. As the clock ticked closer to the hour, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The palace was ready, the guests were enroute, and the stage was set for a night of enchantment and revelry.

The palace kitchen was a whirlwind of activity, a stark contrast to its usual ordered calm. The vast room, usually bathed in soft morning light, was now illuminated by a harsh, overhead glow, casting dramatic shadows over the gleaming copper pots and stainless-steel counters. The air was thick with the intoxicating aromas of roasting meats, simmering sauces, and freshly baked bread, creating a symphony of scents that danced on the senses.

A colossal hearth, usually dormant, was now roaring with life, its flames licking at the hanging pots and pans. Cooks, their faces flushed with exertion, moved with practiced efficiency, their hands a blur of motion as they chopped, stirred, and seasoned. Waiters, clad in their black uniforms, dashed in and out of the kitchen, carrying platters of food to the grand hall.

Amidst the chaos, Theresa, Sarah, and Emily worked tirelessly, their hands stained with flour and their aprons splattered with sauces. Sarah, her brow furrowed in concentration, was kneading a mound of dough with rhythmic precision. Emily, with a practiced grace, was delicately decorating a towering cake with intricate piped frosting. While Theresa was washing the dishes.

"Where's Maddy?" Sarah asked, her voice barely audible over the din. Theresa paused, her hands resting on her hips. "She was in the stable earlier. The head servant didn't give her any tasks tonight, so I assume she's in her room," she replied. A moment of silence fell between them, broken only by the clatter of pots and pans.

Miss Amelia, the head servant, burst into the kitchen, her face a mask of worry. Startled by her abrupt entrance and troubled expression, Theresa and Sarah exchanged puzzled glances. Emily, oblivious to the commotion, continued with her task.

Miss Amelia approached Theresa, her eyes carefully studying her face before she shifted her gaze to Emily. Without warning, she reached out and seized Emily's hand, giving it a sharp twist that forced her to release the plates she was holding. Emily's eyes widened in shock as she stared at the head maid. "What are you—"

Before she could finish, the head maid cut her off, her voice firm and commanding. "You two, come with me," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument as she gestured to both Theresa and Emily. Theresa, clearly puzzled, glanced at Miss Amelia and asked, "What's going on, Miss?"

At that moment, Miss Mary, the head cook, noticed the commotion and hurried over to them. "What's all this about?" she demanded, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity as she looked between the three women.

"We're short with workers already, I need more workers in this kitchen!", she complained. "I already informed the rest of the low-level servants to help here, except for Madeline, since she's just a kid," the head maid answered. "Unfortunately, we're short of servers at the grand hall, so I need these two," she added looking at Theresa and Emily. Sarah beamed at the revelation and nudge Theresa excitedly, "You'll going to the ball".

Emily rolled her eyes and added, "As a servant". Karina, another servant who heard the conversation joined and pleaded, "Miss Amelia, it seems that Emily didn't want to go, I can go instead of her." "I can go too," another servant pleaded. "Enough!" the head maid roared. "Emily and Theresa are the only who look presentable to serve, that's why I choose them. Do you want me to be castigated by the royals?" she asked.

The other servants fell silent, their reasons unspoken. Karina was stung by the implied insult and flared in anger. "Theresa is old," she declared. "I can do better!" Sarah shot her a disapproving look while Theresa merely smiled reassuringly. Miss Amelia's amused comment, "But you look older though," sparked stifled laughter among the others. "Come on, you two," she ordered, her patience waning. Theresa and Emily trailed after her as she left the room.

"Resume your work!" the head cook roared at the rest of the servants. As the sun began its descent, casting the palace in a golden hue, a procession of carriages, each a masterpiece of craftsmanship, began to arrive. Their ornate exteriors, adorned with gold leaf and intricate carvings, gleamed under the fading light. Drawn by magnificent horses, these carriages were symbols of wealth and status, their arrival a spectacle in itself.

Inside, the guests were a tapestry of elegance and opulence. Royals descended from their carriages, their attire a breathtaking blend of tradition and modernity. Queens and princesses wore gowns of heavy brocade, adorned with jewels that rivaled the stars, while princes and kings were clad in velvet suits, their chests decorated with glittering orders. Their presence was a silent command, demanding attention and respect.

Nobility followed, their carriages slightly less grand but no less impressive. Ladies were adorned in haute couture gowns, their bodies transformed into living works of art. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires sparkled against the velvet and silk of their attire. Gentlemen wore tailored suits, their shirts crisp and white, their shoes polished to a mirror shine. A subtle competition for attention played out among them, each seeking to outshine the other.

Businessmen, often overlooked in such gatherings, made their presence felt. Their carriages, while less extravagant, exuded an air of understated luxury. Their attire was a blend of business formality and evening elegance. Dark suits, crisp white shirts, and silk ties were the norm, but with a touch of evening flair – a silk pocket square, a cufflink with a family crest.

Regents, the political powerhouses, arrived with a quiet authority. Their carriages were often simpler, focusing on comfort rather than ostentation. Their attire reflected their position – elegant but practical. Dark suits, crisp white shirts, and simple ties were the norm, but their bearing spoke of years of experience and power.

As each carriage arrived, the palace doors would swing open, revealing a grand entrance hall bathed in soft light. Footmen, dressed in livery, would assist the guests, their movements practiced and efficient. A red carpet stretched from the entrance to the grand hall, a path of opulence leading to the heart of the celebration.

Guests moved gracefully, their footsteps light on the polished marble floors. The air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the occasional trill of laughter. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow that illuminated the splendid attire of the guests. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings, each telling a story of the kingdom's rich history.

As they entered the grand hall, they were greeted by an awe-inspiring sight. The hall was adorned with flowers and twinkling lights, creating an atmosphere of enchantment. Long banquet tables were laden with the finest delicacies, and a grand orchestra played a gentle melody, setting the perfect backdrop for the evening's festivities.

Madeline, who was not provided with a task for the ball, went to their room and notice that her mother was not there. 'Maybe she still helping at the ball,' Madeline thought. She changed her clothes and prepared to sleep.