The castle hummed with restless energy, its halls alive with a rare vitality. For the first time in a month, Ren was carried through the corridors by his father. It was a break from his routine—days spent confined to his chambers or exploring the serene gardens outside. The abrupt change was unusual, and it left him curious. Why now, after weeks of deliberate isolation?

As the procession moved deeper into the heart of the castle, Ren’s sharp mind started piecing together the cause of the excitement. By brushing against the surface thoughts of those bustling around him, he uncovered the truth. Today was his Naming Day. Dignitaries and nobles from across the Bingan Empire were arriving to witness the grand ceremony where his name would be formally declared.

Over the past month, Ren’s world had been tightly controlled. As an infant brimming with latent potential, he needed to develop his natural mana affinities without any external interference. The runic formations etched into the walls of his room ensured only neutral mana flowed in, blocking out mana with specific affinities that might inadvertently affect his growth. Even his parents, relatives, and the maids who cared for him wore enchanted artifacts to suppress their natural mana as Arcanes, shielding Ren from influences that could disrupt his early development.

All this effort for a name? Ren thought, his sharp blue eyes scanning the vibrant crowd around them. I don’t see the point. I’m not even a year old yet. Why all the fuss?

The ceremonial air did little to distract him from a lingering mystery. His mind flitted back to the peculiar absence of his caretaker. The maid who had tended to him so diligently had vanished without a trace earlier that morning. Where did she go? he wondered, shifting his focus inward as his father adjusted his grip. She left my room, and then... nothing. Did she somehow slip out of the castle? No, that’s impossible. The guards would have noticed something like that. If she’d disappeared suddenly, there would already be chaos in the halls.

A fleeting frown crossed his face before he smoothed it away. Whatever it is, I’ll find out soon enough. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that answers have a way of surfacing when you least expect them.

“Are all the rune stones accounted for, Borgen?” Duke Kal asked, his sharp gaze fixed on the list of dignitaries, though his tone carried the weight of another concern.

“Yes, Your Grace. All the stones have been retrieved from the treasury,” Borgen replied with practiced calm. “Since the child was born under the grace of the Seven Sages, Duchess Vritta also requested that we acquire a selection of legendary stones with rare affinities.”

Kal’s eyes flicked up from the parchment, narrowing. “How much did that indulgence cost us, Borgen?” His tone was clipped, irritation bleeding through the measured words. The duke’s jaw tightened as he set down the list. Vritta’s decision to purchase such artifacts without consulting him had clearly struck a nerve. Legendary rune stones weren’t mere heirlooms; they were priceless relics, coveted by nations and empires alike—objects that had sparked wars and toppled thrones. Even now, Tier 3 empires clashed regularly over the chance to claim such treasures.

“A thousand crystal embers,” Borgen said carefully, gauging the duke’s simmering displeasure. “We were, however, able to negotiate a discount by offering pure crystal embers for the exchange. The transaction included expedited delivery—everything was transported to the castle within a week.”

Borgen paused, his eyes flickering briefly to Kal’s forehead, where a vein was beginning to throb. He adjusted his stance, choosing his next words with precision. “Given the rarity and the short notice, it was the best arrangement we could secure.”

Kal exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thin. “And which miracle broker managed to secure legendary rune stones on such short notice?” he asked, his skepticism sharp. Deals of this magnitude typically dragged on for years—negotiations often spanned years, fraught with meticulous bargaining, while the actual procurement of such items involved labyrinthine protocols, including stringent checks and layers of security. That someone had delivered on such a scale, in mere days, was not just improbable—it was impossible.

“Duke Shu Den of the Pangea Sovereignty,” Borgen replied promptly. “He learned of our urgency through a shared contact and offered to facilitate the purchase. He also mentioned his admiration for House Kal’s mana cultivation techniques—particularly our ability to yield surplus Elden Grain. He expressed interest in acquiring a portion of our next harvest at a premium rate. Naturally, no commitments were made as you were still in the Aether.”

Kal’s shoulders eased slightly, his anger cooling as his mind shifted into calculation. “Schedule a meeting with him after the Naming Day ceremony,” he instructed, his tone more measured now. “This year’s harvest was unusually bountiful—we managed a surplus of several megatonnes of Elden Grain. Diverting a portion to new buyers shouldn’t cause unrest among our regular clients. But before we make any offers, I want a thorough background check on Shu Den.”

The duke’s gaze turned sharp again as he added, “Contact the House of Shadows. They owe us favors from the last war. Have them verify his credentials and motives—discreetly. If this deal opens new doors, I want to ensure we aren’t stepping into a pit.”

Borgen inclined his head respectfully. “I’ll see it done, Your Grace.”

Kal’s thoughts churned as Borgen withdrew. Frustration lingered at the edges of his mind, but his focus was already shifting. The expense of the rune stones was steep, yes, but if this Shu Den proved genuine, the duchess’s impulsive purchase might turn out to be a profitable gamble after all. Still, experience had taught him that fortune often walked hand-in-hand with treachery, and he had no intention of leaving his house vulnerable to either.

What’s Aether? Ren wondered, his thoughts swirling as his father and Borgen discussed logistics. The rune stones clearly had some connection to the ceremony—of that much, he was sure. It made sense for his father to approach anything involving high-value goods with caution. But Aether...

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Ren frowned, turning the unfamiliar word over in his mind. Even after reading the thoughts of dozens of people, this is the first time I’ve come across it. What could it mean?

Before he could delve into the minds around him for clues, the chamber doors opened, and Duchess Vritta swept inside, her presence commanding instant attention. The air seemed to shift as every head turned in her direction. Without hesitation, all but the duke stood and bowed deeply, their deference automatic and absolute.

“At ease, gentlemen,” Vritta said with a polite nod, her tone brisk yet warm. Her attention, however, swiftly moved to Kal. “Kal, the guests have begun arriving at the castle. You need to greet them immediately. Hand Ren over—I’ll handle preparing him for the ceremony. And send Borgen to the docking bay. Kara’s message came through—she’ll be arriving just as everything falls into place.”

Her words tumbled out in a fluid stream, each instruction delivered with the precision of a battlefield general. Kal, accustomed to his wife’s efficiency, only nodded, though his eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of yet another task added to his list.

Without waiting for a reply, Vritta reached out and lifted Ren from her husband’s arms. “Come now, little one,” she murmured, already turning toward the door. “We have much to do.”

Ren watched over her shoulder as the room—and his chance to glean more about this elusive “Aether”—disappeared from view. Mother, your timing is awful, he thought, annoyed. They were finally talking about something important, and you just had to come in and whisk me away.

Oblivious to her newborn son’s exasperation, Vritta cooed softly as she carried him through the halls, her voice light with affection. “We’re going to make you the most handsome boy in the universe,” she said with a smile, her tone teasing yet sincere.

In her private chambers, she set Ren down carefully and began preparing him for the ceremony. The golden dhoti she selected shimmered like molten sunlight, its intricate embroidery glinting under the soft glow of the enchanted orbs lining the room. The symbol of their house—a radiant sun with delicately carved rays—was woven into the fabric with masterful precision.

With a steady hand, Vritta leaned in and traced the same sun symbol onto Ren’s forehead with strokes of a golden pigment. The soft brush tickled slightly, but Ren remained still, instinctively knowing this was important.

As Vritta worked, Rakita burst into the room, spinning on her toes to show off her new attire. The six-year-old’s gown flowed in gentle waves, the fabric dyed in the warm hues of a sunrise. Embroidered flames of golden thread danced along the hem, catching the light as she twirled.

“Mother! Mother! Look at me!” Rakita called, her voice bubbling with excitement. She stopped spinning just long enough to crouch down and peer at her baby brother. “Look at us! We’re all matching! Don’t you feel like royalty already?”

Beside her, twelve-year-old Vira stood tall in his ceremonial dhoti. A finely crafted shawl, embroidered with solar motifs, draped elegantly over his shoulder. His expression was serious as he adjusted the fabric, the gravity of the day clearly weighing on him.

“Rakita, stop crowding him,” Vira said with a small frown, though his tone was more protective than scolding. He stepped closer, inspecting Ren’s golden attire with an approving nod. “Mother’s done a good job. He looks... regal.”

“Of course he does,” Vritta said, standing back to admire her handiwork. Her gaze flicked between her three children, her expression softening with pride. “Today isn’t just his Naming Day—it’s a reminder of who we are, and what we represent. The light of our house must shine brighter than ever.”

Such bright colors. This is not my style at all. Can someone please bring me some normal clothes? Ren thought, glancing down at the shimmering gold embroidery on his dhoti. He blinked up at Vira, whose laughter bubbled out at the sight of him.

“He’s definitely royalty,” Vira teased, crouching beside Ren. “Look at how much fuss Mother’s making over him.”

Rakita, however, was far less amused. She crossed her arms, a pout settling on her face as she glanced around the room, clearly dissatisfied with one glaring absence. “I can’t wait until Father gets here,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “He’ll tell us we’re the best-dressed family in the whole empire!”

With that, she spun on her heel, the golden hem of her gown flaring out like a burst of sunlight, before flopping unceremoniously onto the soft mat beside her baby brother.

“Rakita,” Vritta said with a raised brow, her tone both gentle and firm, “you can’t say things like that during the ceremony. There will be many important guests attending, including dignitaries from across the empire. You need to behave in a way that reflects your father’s position.”

Her tone softened slightly as she added, “I’ve even heard whispers that the royal family’s emissaries might make an appearance.”

Rakita’s eyes went wide, her hands flying to her cheeks. “The royal family?” she gasped, her voice dripping with exaggerated awe.

“Focus, Raki,” Vritta said, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“Don’t worry, Mama!” Rakita sat upright, throwing a confident thumbs-up into the air. Her wide grin was nothing short of mischievous. “I’m going to be the best-behaved kid in the family today. Way better than big bro Vira.”

If she’s the best-behaved kid, then I don’t even know what other children are—saints, probably, Ren thought, unimpressed.

Rakita ignored him, leaning in closer to Ren as her excitement built. “You know, lil bro, I’ve seen pictures of my naming ceremony,” she said, her eyes bright.

Vira groaned, shaking his head as he sat cross-legged beside her. “Here we go again.”

“Don’t interrupt!” Rakita wagged her finger at him before turning back to Ren, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “So, they put me in this big, shiny capsule. When the mana flowed through it and flooded my body, the whole thing lit up brighter than the sun! There were these rune stones arranged all around me, and guess what?”

Let her talk, big bro. Finally, someone’s discussing the only thing that actually matters.

Ren gurgled, which Rakita took as encouragement to continue.

“They floated!” she exclaimed, her grin widening. “At first, they spun around me like planets orbiting a star. But then, after a few seconds, most of them sank back to the ground. Only four of them kept going—they spun faster and faster until they found their spots and stopped.”

Some kind of attraction between the mana in her and those stones. Probably affinity alignment, Ren mused, intrigued despite himself.

“Anyway,” Rakita said, her tone smug now, “the one closest to me was my strongest affinity. The others just followed in a little parade behind it. It was incredible!”

Makes sense

Vira finally relented, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t fall asleep during his big moment like someone we know.”

“I did NOT fall asleep!” Rakita huffed, her cheeks puffing out indignantly. “The capsule was just too cozy, that’s all!”

Vira nodded sagely, his teasing grin firmly in place. “Sure, sure. So, lil man,” he said, turning his attention to Ren, “when it’s your turn, we’ll finally see which stones decide to stick with you.”

Vritta watched the playful banter with a soft smile as she secured Ren’s dhoti. “You two will have plenty of time to tease each other later,” she said. “For now, let’s focus on getting through this ceremony without anything going wrong.”

Mother, that statement practically screams disaster waiting to happen. You might as well cue the ominous music and roll the “Directed by…” credits.