The dawn broke over Ravenshade, casting a golden light over the town and the surrounding forest. Despite the early hour, the keep was already a hive of activity. Preparations for Alistair’s journey to Ebonvale were underway, with supplies being packed and horses readied. The young baron knew this council of lords was not just a meeting—it was a test, a proving ground where he would have to navigate the complex web of alliances and enmities that bound the nobility of Eldoria.

Alistair stood on the balcony of his chambers, gazing out at his lands. The view was breathtaking, but his thoughts were far from the tranquil scene before him. His mind was consumed with the challenges that lay ahead. The Arcane Dominion had been silent since the discovery in the Deepwood, but he could feel its presence, a constant hum at the edge of his consciousness. It was as if the system was waiting, watching, ready to reveal more when the time was right.

A knock at the door broke his reverie. “Enter,” Alistair called, turning to see Sir Branford step into the room.

“My lord,” Branford began, his voice steady, “the men are ready. We can leave at your command.”

Alistair nodded, but there was a hesitation in his eyes. “Branford, before we go, there’s something I need to do. Something that can’t wait.”

The knight raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for Alistair to continue.

“There’s a crypt beneath the keep,” Alistair said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It’s where my ancestors are buried. I’ve never been down there, but something tells me that I need to go now. Before we leave.”

Branford studied his young lord for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, my lord. I’ll accompany you.”

Together, they descended into the bowels of the keep, where the air grew cooler and the light dimmer with each step. The crypt was rarely visited, a place of solemn remembrance rather than active duty. When they reached the iron-bound door at the end of the passage, Alistair hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

The crypt was a vast chamber, lined with stone sarcophagi, each bearing the crest of the Ravenshade family. The air was thick with the scent of dust and old stone, and the only light came from the flickering torches that lined the walls. Alistair felt a shiver run down his spine as he stepped inside, the weight of his lineage pressing down on him.

He walked slowly down the rows of sarcophagi, his eyes scanning the names etched into the stone. These were his ancestors—men and women who had ruled Ravenshade long before he was born. Their legacies were as much a part of the land as the forests and rivers, and now, that legacy rested on his shoulders.

At the far end of the chamber, Alistair stopped before a particularly ornate sarcophagus. The name carved into the stone was one he knew well—Cedric Ravenshade, his father. The sight of it brought a fresh wave of grief, but Alistair pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“There’s something here,” Alistair said quietly, more to himself than to Branford. “Something I need to find.”

He reached out, placing his hand on the cold stone. As soon as he did, the Arcane Dominion stirred within him, and he felt a pull, a sense of direction. His hand slid along the surface until it found a hidden latch, cleverly concealed among the carvings. With a soft click, a compartment in the sarcophagus opened, revealing a small, ancient-looking chest.

Branford stepped forward, his eyes widening in surprise. “What is that?”

Alistair didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he carefully lifted the chest from its resting place and set it on the ground. The chest was old, its wood dark with age, and it was bound with iron bands that were etched with runes similar to those he had seen in the Arcane Dominion.

With a deep breath, Alistair opened the chest. Inside, wrapped in a faded cloth, was a large, leather-bound tome. The cover was embossed with the crest of the Ravenshade family, and beneath it, in ancient Eldorian script, was a title: *The Codex of Dominion.*

Alistair’s heart skipped a beat. “This… this is what I’ve been looking for.”

Branford peered over his shoulder. “The Codex of Dominion? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Neither have I,” Alistair admitted, “but it seems the Arcane Dominion isn’t just a power—it’s part of our family’s legacy. This book might hold the answers I’ve been seeking.”

He opened the tome, the pages yellowed with age but still legible. The first few pages were filled with dense text, written in a language that Alistair didn’t fully understand. But as he turned the pages, he found sections that seemed to correspond with the system he had awakened—the ranks of knights, the magical abilities, and even the troop summoning. There were diagrams, lists, and instructions, all detailing the workings of the Arcane Dominion.

Alistair’s eyes widened as he read. “This… this explains everything. The Dominion, it’s been passed down through our family for generations. Each baron has had access to it, but only a few have truly mastered its power.”

“Why wasn’t this knowledge passed down to you?” Branford asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“I don’t know,” Alistair replied, his mind racing. “Perhaps my father was preparing to teach me, but he never got the chance. Or maybe he was keeping it hidden until I was ready.”

He continued to read, his excitement growing with each revelation. The Codex detailed not just the powers of the Dominion, but also its limitations, its dangers, and the responsibilities that came with it. It was both a guide and a warning, a testament to the power that had shaped the Ravenshade family for centuries.

As Alistair closed the book, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The Codex had given him the knowledge he needed, but it had also made one thing clear: the power of the Dominion was not to be used lightly. It was a tool, but also a burden—a force that could shape the destiny of not just his barony, but all of Eldoria.

“We need to go,” Alistair said, standing up and carefully placing the Codex back in the chest. “The council of lords will be our first test, but it won’t be the last. We have to be ready for whatever comes next.”

Branford nodded, his expression serious. “I’ll have the chest secured in your chambers, my lord. And we’ll leave for Ebonvale as soon as you’re ready.”

Alistair took one last look around the crypt, a silent promise to his ancestors that he would not let them down. Then, with the Codex of Dominion in hand, he turned and walked back toward the light of the keep.

The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but Alistair no longer felt alone. He had the knowledge of the past, the power of the Dominion, and the strength of his allies. And with that, he would face whatever darkness threatened his land and his people.

The young baron had begun his rise, and nothing would stand in his way.