Hadrian stood upon a black marble staircase, the color scheme identical to that of the study, black marble with blues and greens; the colors of the current head of the Castellane family. When Leon's grandfather, Domitian, held the title, the stone had been adorned in red and gold. The stone that stood as the bones of the house was Auric-Marble. The material was rare even when the home was crafted, a testament to the power of the Castellane family. The patriarch would Imbue his aura into the stone upon his ascension, and the house would truly change hands.
Hadrian frowned, his feelings darkening at the thought of Leon's absent grandfather. The man had abandoned Leon, leaving him to pick up the pieces of a life he had never had any control of. Furthermore, Domitian left his grandson to run the Castellane duchy and disappeared to who knows where. The worst part was that Hadrian knew that Domitian believed this was what was best for his family. A Castellane could never do otherwise, a fact Hadrian was all too aware of.
As he waited for the guests to arrive, he was debating on how best to play with the local nobility. August’s confirmation would be relatively unimportant, all things considered. The boy was seventh in line for the duchy and would not be a direct heir to the house. Politically, he was only a sidenote to the truly important factions of the empire. After this ceremony, however, Hadrian was confident that he would become quite a celebrity.
Hadrian considered an overwhelming display of power, to truly frighten and amaze his captive audience. This, however, was soundly rejected; there was no way in any hell he would pay for repairs on this opulent monstrosity. Another option was to play the gracious servant, scandalizing the local nobility into catatonia. This, also, would not be an option: too much of a scandal would mean a scolding when he got back to the palace. He loved his daughter deeply, but the Heir-apparent was far too serious for her age.
Thus, he decided the best tactic would be the gracious host. Though still a scandal, this had the easy out that, well, he was the emperor. If Hadrian wanted to play the host, who was Leon to stop him? All Leon would need to do is try to appear and be useful, and the story will be just another in a long string of weird interactions with the emperor.
With his strategy ironed out, he made for the ballroom, his pace even and his smile wicked. On the way, he deftly stole food from trays being brought out of the kitchen. Popping the globi into his mouth, he savored the taste of the fried cheese-and-honey dessert. Truly marvelous, the crisp and chewy exterior juxtaposed with the warm and soft interior was a delight on the palate. Dripping with warm honey, and covered with poppy seeds, Hadrian had to bolster his will to resist procuring more of the delightful dessert.
Using his tongue to clean his sticky fingers, he chuckled to himself. It had been too long since he last indulged himself. He was the emperor, a constant source of hope and strength for the land he reigned over. His days were constantly filled with the bureaucracy that stood as a backbone for any nation. Policy debates, public forums, political machinations; he had been buried for years trying to heal the empire. Though they had soundly won the war with the Island Kingdoms, the war had lasted literal centuries.
Recovering as quickly as the Empire had, it was a miracle made possible only by the combined efforts of himself and his people. Everyone had worked tirelessly, constantly putting in every ounce of effort they could muster. He was so moved every day by those he worked with, he could not help but do the same. Now, the empire stood as one of the greatest powers in the known world, with a proven track record of military victory. Combined with unprecedented innovation, and a booming economy, he had finally reached a point where he felt safe goofing off again.
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The guests arrived decorated in the finery allotted to their stations, their elegant outfits made with the utmost care. The colors of the outfits were individually unique, based on their tastes, their familial ties, and even their professions. Outside of these personal choices, the outfits were relatively homogeneous. Consisting of a doublet, jacket, breeches, leggings, and boots, the style for the event borrowed heavily from the western region of the continent. The only other separation in appearance that could be noted would be that some guests wore a single-shoulder capelet. This capelet would be adorned by an epaulet bearing the owner’s crest.
These were a symbol of office, A single shoulder meant a lower-ranking noble, akin to a count or baron. A mantle half-cape would be worn by upper nobility, such as a marquis, duke, or even an archduke. Finally, the imperial royal line would be the only nobility who could wear a full cape. These symbols allowed for an easy discernment of importance, something greatly needed for the vast nobility of the Empire. Though the smallest portion of the population belonged to the noble class, the size of the empire lent difficulty to knowing one’s peers.
As such, many of the guests followed suit, donning the clothes of aristocracy with glee. This, however, made it all the more noticeable when a man appeared, dressed in full senate regalia. The man, whose crest was vaguely familiar to Hadrian, wore a radiant white robe, embroidered in purple and green. The appearance of the robe was ostentatious, ridiculously flamboyant, and Hadrian loved it. Scanning the oddity, he found the man truly interesting.
Inspection Report
Name: Edward Aternia
Title: Virtuoso Mana-Smith
Ideal:
Class: Magical Technician (Uncommon)
Profession: Master Mana-Smith (Epic*)
Level: 35 (14,763 XP of 21,967)
*Rarity:
The emperor kept his face passive as people filed in, but underneath the surface he was exuberant. The house of Aternia had long been of note within the empire, creating some of the best weapons and armor money could buy. Hadrian even had a few pieces in his personal armory that had been crafted by their family, though they are merely relics at this point. Still, the family had contributed heavily in the past to the empire, and he was glad to see that they had started to rise from their sequestered decay.
Looking across the crowd he found other faces, other people, other interesting conversations to have. The nobles were self-important as always, a fact he would make great efforts to rectify now that he had the freedom to act. He was also keenly interested in the Bödvar Bjarki captain, as well as the Secondat boy. These three were honestly the only people Hadrian cared to investigate. The others in attendance, while important to him as his citizens, were nowhere near as exciting.
Cato had been scouted by the Imperial Archon, the highest authority within the Magic Towers, and a personal advisor for Hadrian. Archon, whose real name was stripped upon accepting the title, had noted Cato as a brilliant magus. She had gone so far as to try and bribe him, to recruit him as her student. She sulked for days when he denied her, going so far as to send back the “gifts” she had sent.
The note along with them claimed that he was very thankful for the offer, but he would have to refuse. It also listed several flaws in the items returned, and potential solutions for them as well. The Archon was flabbergasted, having made them herself, and her desire to take him on as a student only grew.
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As for the captain, well the emperor had been thinking of bringing him into the military fold. Darian Tailor had won many accolades in his deployments with the Bödvar Bjarki, have earned his status as a captain without being forced to move south, into the Mercenary Heartland. As a neutral city-state, the heartland was home to most of the mercenary bands on the continent.
Anyone looking to rise in the ranks typically needed to cast away their citizenship and set up shop there. Darian had earned the right to stay in the empire, though he was made to live in the southernmost lands. This was why he was here in the Castellane duchy, and not back north where he grew up. The man was a monster in self-improvement, his sole focus on growing his personal strength and combat prowess. This desire was also the backbone of the Bödvar Bjarki, and while Hadrian wanted him, he doubted he could tempt the man over.
Hadrian looked around the elegant ballroom, admiring the preparations made for the confirmation. A raised stage had been built in the center of the room, the material a dark wood that matched the black of the stone beneath it. The circular stage had two levels, the first layer a basic wooden affair adorned with ribbons of blue and green. The circular base of the second level sat at the center of the first, engraved with feats of the Castellane family.
On the stage was an orchestra, currently performing a piece that evoked feelings of a long summer night. The instruments they played radiated power, creating a visual to match the music. As one listened to the music, if they allowed themselves, they could be pulled inside the illusory dream it crafted. The center of the stage currently stood empty, but it would be occupied soon enough.
The ceiling of the room was adorned with floating chandeliers, that danced and swayed in the air, mirroring the movement of the music. Along the sides of the room were tables filled with drink and food, as well as plates and silverware to eat them with. The main floor was clear, left open to allow the guests to mingle and dance while they awaited the start of the ceremony.
As the last of the guests arrived, sans his own retinue, who were no doubt delayed due to his disappearance, Hadrian smiled. Clapping his hands, all light in the room winked out. The world conspired with the emperor, wrapping the entire ballroom within a sticky black web, robbing the guests of their senses. Amidst the clamor that only he himself was now privy to, he manifested himself on the raised stage, standing proudly above everyone.
He raised his hand aloft, and pulsed his own golden and silver mana, creating a dazzling sun that vanquished the darkness. All eyes locked onto him, and the all too familiar sensation of supplication crashed against him. The guests, many of whom had never seen him in person, knew without a doubt in their minds who this man was. As they knelt in fealty, their instinctive reaction to his presence, he saw genuine shock in every eye.
“Welcome, my wonderful citizens, to the confirmation of my beloved great-grandchild, August Trajan Castellane. I am Emperor Hadrian Aurelius the Third, and I have come to apologize in person. You see, I have been very busy as of late, as I am sure all of you have. I would like this confirmation to be a private affair for me to visit with my granddaughter and her beloved family, the most honorable house Castellane. I am no monster, however, so only the confirmation itself will be private.” The emperor said.
“The festivities themselves will stay public, and of course, August will make his debut tonight! So please, grant an old man his indulgence, and enjoy the food and wine while we get that boring old confirmation out of the way. Leon and I will also be joining you personally when we finish the confirmation, and I so look forward to meeting every one of you.” He continued; his voice amplified through the brilliant sun he had created.
With his piece said, he disappeared from the stage. The audience continued kneeling; the room deathly silent with shock. Hadrian appeared at the far end of the room, next to a door leading back to the main house. Not a soul noticed him, as if their senses brushed over him without recognition. He held back laughter at the sight that his sudden appearance had caused. He had truly missed this, missed interacting with others, missed being himself rather than just the emperor.
He walked through the door, slipping from the silent ballroom unnoticed. As he entered the main hallway, he nearly walked into Leon. Leon stopped, peering behind the emperor into the scene he had left behind him. Concerned, Leon looked questioningly at the emperor. The emperor pushed a finger in front of his mouth and nodded toward the other end of the hall. Catching his meaning, Leon followed him, moving quickly to a more secluded area.
“I didn’t do anything too strange; they were just shocked by my dazzlingly bright personality,” Hadrian told Leon, as they reached the far end of the hall.
“I feel like that was a joke I’ll understand later when I ask someone honest about what happened,” Leon replied dryly, knowing the emperor’s penchant for absurd situations and dramatic theater.
“You are such a buzzkill Leon, honestly. I don’t understand how my precious starlight puts up with you.” The emperor harrumphed, displaying faux outrage at the accurate insinuation. “I imagine you didn’t just come down here to cast aspersions on my character. What happened?”
Leon chuckled at the banter; his mood was lighter than it had been since Hadrian arrived. Looking his grandson-in-law over, he was happy to see that some stress had left the man. Combined with the relief he could see in the man; his presence here could only mean one thing: August must have taken a turn for the better.
“August’s fever broke, and though he isn’t conscious yet, he should be soon,” Leon said, confirming Hadrian’s suspicions. “I also just heard from Ketsuhl, and it looks like your entourage just arrived.”
“Alright, let’s grab the bishop and meet back up with August. I am sure that the boy will have a lot of questions, and we will need to prepare him before he meets any of the guests.” the emperor said, grabbing the other man’s shoulder. “We are almost through this hellacious day, Leon, so stay strong.”
Leon returned the grip, along with a small smile of appreciation. Both men turned and started their trek towards the main entrance to the mansion. Though they walked in silence, it was a companionable silence, a warm and comfortable thing. Soon, this fiasco of a confirmation would be over, and they could return to their normal day-to-day life.
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August awoke with a start, his eyes shooting open and then shutting closed immediately. The light of the room felt like knives being driven into his skull, and the sudden movement turned his stomach. He wretched and heaved but had nothing to empty from his stomach. He could taste the acrid sour and bitter of previous vomit on his tongue, like a film coating his mouth.
“It’s okay, Augie, it’s okay. Momma has you, you’re going to be ok.” Said the familiar voice of his mother, her soothing tone enveloping August like a warm blanket. Her voice brought him back to reality, and he realized she was holding him. Her embrace was like a balm for his scorched and tattered spirit.
Falling into it, he lost any semblance of dignity. He began weeping, the fear, the anger, the anguish that he was filled with, finally being let out now that he was safe. Astarte held him close, his small body fitting mostly in her lap. She stroked his hair and continued cooing, holding him tight as if to never let him go. She buried her face in the embrace, hiding her own tears of relief. She would never let August see them; she would be his rock always.
Isaac, who had rushed over, tried to take the boy to examine him. He was met by reptilian eyes, as the of a large Sauropod manifested around Astarte and August. The being wasn’t a summon, but one of the creatures she cared for in her domain, the Primeval Forest. The neck of the beast was extended from a pocket on Astarte’s jacket, the size of which should not have allowed for the massive beast’s size.
Isaac backed up, realizing that maybe he should leave August and Duchess Astarte alone for now. The sauropod snorted upon his acquiescence but maintained his vigil. Stepping away, Isaac sat next to Quacksworth, receiving a pat on the back from his feathered friend.
August’s weeping finally subsided, and he opened his eyes again. As he did so, he was met with what he now knew was a system screen.
System Notifications
You have earned the Grand Feat: Mantle of a King.
You have gained the essence of Oberon, the King of Fairies.
Congratulations! You have earned a Bloodline.
You gained the Bloodline: Royal Fae – Oberon
Congratulations! You have unlocked your first Bloodline!
Congratulations! You have unlocked a Mythical Rarity Bloodline!
Title Gained: Blood of Myths
Title Gained: Bloodline Holder
Warning: Your current bloodline is too powerful for you.
Title Gained: Muted Bloodline
Congratulations: You have been Marked by the Fairy Queen, Titania.
Will you accept the Mark of the Fairy Queen?
He had so many things to unpack, that August had no idea where to start. Pushing the notification screen away just as he did before when all of this started, he opened his status screen.
System Status
Name: August Trajan Castellane
Title: Heir to The Fairy King
Mark-Bearer: Titania, Queen of Fairies.
Ideal: N/A
Class: N/A
Profession: N/A
Level: 1 (0 XP of 60)