The Waiting Room smelled like cedar-wood and jasmine. It was a distinct smell; one that conjured a sense of homeliness and made one feel comfortable. A fireplace crackled in the corner of the room, providing considerable warmth to combat the typical northern Dalclesian winter. The redwood planks that lined the floor, the high ceilings and golden light fixtures, and the white luxurious couch settled in the middle of the room; every feature was an important piece in depicting the perfect landscape. At least, that was what it appeared to be. Teloch Pyrus knew from quite a young age, that nothing was what it seemed when it concerned the House of Pyrus. An innocent façade such as the comfortable room in which he was sitting concealed a much darker intent. For no one that left the Waiting Room would leave it in the same way they entered. After all, the room was designed to be the precursor to a meeting with the Matriarch. No one wanted to see the Matriarch.

“The Lady will see you now, sir,” a stout woman said as she walked into the room. Loch recalled her name was Lilian, and she was the Matriarchs first assistant. He felt a faint touch on his mind, and was immediately put on guard. He smiled weakly at her and stood up.

“You possess a mind phantom?”

Lilian immediately flushed, and with a quick gesture, the peculiar feeling subsidised.

“I apologise, sir. My phantom, Sina, sometimes gets a bit too comfortable with reading the emotions of others,” she said and bowed her head.

Loch suspected that Sina was attempting a lot more than a mere surface read, but he didn’t push it.  He accepted her apology. “Of course.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you must be quite talented to detect mind magic, sir. Especially for one so young,” Lilian attempted to flatter.

Loch’s smile didn’t father, despite the gut-wrenching feeling that had suddenly embraced him. “Ah, yes. To some people, perhaps.” He couldn’t help himself looking at the door before him.

Loch gulped hard, trying to not let his nervousness show. To show weakness in front of the Matriarch was to automatically accept defeat. How to react, and how to not react were the key principles in interacting with any Pyrus. To possess these skills were paramount in succeeding, and not succumbing to the overwhelming pressure of being a part of a Noble House.

The woman led him to a large set of doors, the familiar brand of Pyrus carved into the mahogany. The Flame of Pyrus, it was called. The history and glory of the emblem had been burned into his brain through countless private tutors. Anything less than perfect recollection of the family history was simply not tolerated. He saw Lilian knock gently onto the wood; three times, no more, no less. There was a pocket of silence before an authoritarian, deep female voice boomed out from behind the closed doors.

“Come in,” it said.

Lilian shot him an odd glance before scurrying away to her duties. It wasn’t wise to make the Matriarch wait, so Loch quickly strode into the room.

The private office of Thiona Pyrus was, in itself, an exquisite room. Perfectly decorated in the finest pieces of artworks, sculptures and intricacies. Thiona herself sat at an unreasonably large mahogany desk that was perfectly centred. She was a medium-sized woman with pure-white hair and eyes that glowed of embers; a typical feature of those who called themselves Pyrus.

“Teloch. Please, sit,” Thiona instructed.

Loch dared not disobey such a simple request, and despite his instincts telling him to flee, he sat down meekly on one of the two chairs in front of her desk. He tried not to let flaming dragon that remained in a semi-transparent state behind her intimidate him too much.

After a moment's pause, Thiona clicked her tongue. “Teloch, do you know what it means to be a part of the House of Pyrus?

Loch knew this question was a trap. He had watched her deal with people on many occasions. The first question was always a lure; a chance for her to belittle them. 

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“Physical perfection. Academic excellence. Magical genius,” Loch replied. Thiona looked at him expectedly. “That is what it means to be a Pyrus,” he quietly added.

“Indeed. How do we achieve that?” She leaned back slightly, eyeing his body language. While she was a master of interpretation, it was the dragon behind her that truly was the test. Orion was remarkably good at knowing when someone was lying, or telling half-truths.

“By striving to be the best, of course. In everything that we do,” Loch answered.

“I suppose that is correct,” Thiona said absently, pretending that whatever was behind him was most interesting. Loch didn’t fall for this manoeuvre and kept eye contact.

“Now, tell me this, Teloch,” she continued. “Suppose a certain member of our noble family received subpar results in the entrance exam for the State Academy. Do you think this upholds the value of the Pyrus family being the very best?”

“I-...” Loch paused. “I don’t think it does.”

“Smart boy. It appears we are in agreement.” Thiona smiled; it was not a kind smile. 

Loch was sorely tempted to pull up a random excuse for his incompetence but stopped himself. Such pathetic reasons would never be tolerated by her. It would only make his situation worse.

“The House of Pyrus, in addition to excelling in practical and academic pursuits, is a Noble house. Do you know what this means?” Thiona remarked. Orion snorted behind her.

Loch gulped, reluctant to continue that particular strain of conversation. Unfortunately for him, Thiona left no means for him to redirect the topic. 

“A Noble House, by its very definition, should be able to manifest their Phantom without exterior needs. It is the most basic requirement, in fact. Now, Loch, tell me, what if someone that belongs to the prestigious House of Pyrus were unable to manifest their phantom? At age seventeen no less?” 

Loch knew the answer. “They would be a disappointment, m’lady.” 

“A disappointment? Oh, no,” she chuckled lightly. A small part of Loch sighed in relief. A minuscule and naive part of him. 

“They are so much more than a disappointment. They are a stain on the House. Worse than the lowest of scum. A complete and utter embarrassment.” 

Despite the response being completely expected, Loch still felt the agonising sting of her words. His parents had been patient with him, completely confident that he would be able to manifest soon. Now, even they would have their faith in him evaporated.

“Now, Loch, I am sure that this is no hypothetical situation. I presume you still intend to leave for the Academy next week?” Thiona asked.

“I do, m’Lady,” Loch bowed his head, struggling to maintain his emotions.

She sighed. “As I thought. You see, that simply cannot be allowed. I will not have someone with the Pyrus name enter the academy as Bronze. Especially if they do not possess a phantom.”

Loch had expected this from the moment he had received his exam results. His lack of phantom at his age had been a rather large sore spot within the family for quite some time. At least, then, he could claim that he just wasn’t ready and that it would come soon. His lack of Gold rank, however? Completely unacceptable, and irredeemable. He had once heard his second cousin boasting that he was far better than him, despite him being four years Loch’s junior, and that his family was preparing to have his name removed from the House altogether. He could only half-believe it was a lie.

“That being said,” Thiona continued.“There also cannot be a person within the House of Pyrus that is without an Academy qualification. Now you see, Loch, that puts me in a bit of a predicament.” 

“I see,” was all that Loch said.

“Despite what many think, I’m not heartless. I do like you, my dear Teloch. I have consulted with the other members of our family, and have come to a conclusion. I will give you a chance; a chance to prove yourself. You will go to the Academy.”

Loch waited patiently for the but.

“But, you will not go as a Pyrus. Thankfully, your complete lack of presence and mediocre talents do you justice here. People simply do not know who you are, let alone know there is in fact, a third son of Egon Pyrus. Therefore, your name will be Lochian Xanders. Third heir of the Xanders Merchant Company.”

Loch was speechless, unable to quite comprehend her words. He swallowed, hard. “What of my hair? My looks? Surely someone will recognise me. The white hair of Pyrus will hardly go unnoticed.”

She looked at him pointedly. “Our good friend Raymond Miscle can handle that. He has dabbled quite extensively in physical alteration.”

Loch stared at the matriarch in an obedient silence, as he felt his world crumble around him.

“Further, you are not to interact with any members of our family in public. As you well know, your cousin, Riordan, will also be attending. You are not permitted to interact with him in any way. Do you understand, Teloch?”

Loch didn’t say anything, and just stared at the desk before him in an unthinking oblivion.

“I do not like repeating myself, Teloch,” the matriarch growled.

He looked up at her, fully composed.

“I understand, Lady Thiona.”