Apparently, it isn't just the kingdom that champion candidate Aodhán Brystion has taken by storm, but the hearts of young nobles too. He was spotted last night at the burial ceremony of Marquis Elarion Vilaris, and his appearance sent the hearts of many quivering and burning with desire, wondering just how toned and sexy he looked outside that perfectly fitting suit, but more importantly, many are curious as to how far those golden cracks on his skin go and how it might feel to trace them or taste them.”
Sensational daily.
Margaret Erindale.
Sector 5, year 2275.
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Aodhán awoke the next morning to the smell of pancakes and the loud rumbling of his stomach. The first thing he did was check his messages, and when he saw that Lupin still hadn't replied to his message, he frowned.
It had been five days now since they'd spoken, and he was getting worried. She still hadn't sent her address yet, which meant he couldn't just create a platform or hop on Varec and fly over to check up on her.
He sighed and sent her another text before moving to the bathroom to freshen up, after which he headed downstairs to the dining room, where he found Synové already setting the table, the jade necklace he'd given her dangling gently from her neck.
“Good morning.” He greeted her, and Synové replied with a smile. “Good morning, darling, how'd you sleep?”
“Pretty well. In fact, too well.” He frowned, suddenly realizing that something was amiss, and that was when he realized that the simmering rage that had plagued him for the past three days was finally gone. No, not really. It was more appropriate to say it was muted. He could still feel it within him, but it was completely still as if it were frozen.
Aodhán sensed that he could still harness the rage if he wanted, but now it was completely under his control. Tame, like sheep.
“I see you're in a good mood this morning.” Synové eyed him suspiciously. “Excited for today's event?”
Aodhán shook his head. “I'm not sure we're still going to the event. I still haven't gotten anything from Lupin yet.”
Synové frowned. “That’s very improper. If she really wants you to come, shouldn't she have sent the address days ago?”
Aodhán shrugged, not sure what to think anymore. Even if Lupin's family didn't approve of his presence at their event, at least Lupin should have texted him by now to inform him of whatever was going on. But she wasn’t even replying to his texts.
“Well, if you don't end up going, you can keep me company.” Synové smiled, and when he raised a questioning eyebrow, she clarified. “I'm not working today; I've got the day off.”
“Ah.” Aodhán muttered and grabbed an apple from the table before plopping down on one of the wooden chairs.
Sensing his mood, Synové changed the subject. “You boys came in pretty late yesterday. How was the burial?”
Aodhán snorted and began narrating all that had happened at the event. “I felt like a prized horse at an auction, and frankly, I couldn't wait for it to be over.”
“By ascendants.” Synové chuckled as she arranged their cutlery. “Surely, it couldn't have been that bad.”
“Trust me, it was. Even Daruk now hates their guts.”
Synové laughed at that. “Oh, my poor baby; he was always so impressed by their fine manners and poise.”
Aodhán grinned and followed Synové into the kitchen. “I think the exact words he used to describe the event were dream-shattering.”
Synové laughed once again, and Aodhán shook his head. “I couldn't have done it without him, though, and now I'm thinking of taking etiquette lessons.”
Synové nodded thoughtfully. “That's wise. If these events are going to become a thing, then it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.” She sighed and shook her head. “I'm just glad Daruk finally sees these nobles for the obnoxious degenerates that they really are."
“Stop gossiping about me.” Daruk muttered drearily as he walked into the kitchen and fixed himself an ice-cold cup of water. “I have a headache.”
“No, what you have is a hangover." Aodhán chuckled, and Daruk turned to glare at him. “How are you not afflicted by this infirmity?”
“Because I stayed away from the black wine.” Aodhán winked.
Synové cleared her throat in dissatisfaction. “So you boys drank at the party? What happened to the juice and milk?”
They both paused, eyeing each other carefully, before Daruk responded. “There was no milk present, mom.”
“But there were other drinks.” She insisted, glaring at Daruk. Aodhán stayed silent, barely holding back laughter, as Daruk shifted awkwardly beneath the weight of Synové's disapproval. At seventeen, Aodhán was considered old enough to drink, but Daruk hadn't earned that right yet.
Daruk noticed Aodhán's barely restrained smile and decided to throw him under the bus rather than suffer Synové's wrath alone. “Aodhán plans to propose to his girlfriend today.” He blurted out, and Synové gasped, turning sharply to stare at Aodhán. “What?! You have a girlfriend?”
“It's not a proposal.” Aodhán hastily replied and glared at Daruk. “It's just…we're just… I don't have a girlfriend!”
“He definitely does.” Daruk grinned evilly, and Synové sidled closer to Aodhán, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. “Don’t be shy; you can tell me.”
“No, Synové. There's nothing to tell.”
“Is it that Cavanaugh girl?” Synové pressed, frowning slightly as she began making deductions. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Yep. Absolutely.” Daruk replied, unrepentant. “They've been going on dates for over a month now, and Aodhán intends to finally pop the question today.”
Synové squealed, positively giddy, as she turned to Daruk to get the full gist, and as if things weren't bad enough, Aldric walked into the kitchen and sniffed. “Ugh, is that young love I smell? Disgusting.”
Aodhán rolled his eyes as Aldric walked out of the kitchen and said to Synové, “I see you no longer need my help, so I'm going to let myself out.”
“Oh, come on.” She laughed. “You've yet to tell me anything about this Lupin girl.”
“There's nothing to tell.” Aodhán insisted.
“Oh, there's plenty to tell.” Daruk quipped, sipping his ice-cold water with a sly smile, and Aodhán scowled at him. “You sniveling, ratfaced mother... ducker of brother. Didn't you have a headache just now?”
Daruk grinned and raised his cup. “Obviously, I found a cure; besides, what does a headache have to do with gossiping?”
“Everything!” Aodhán exclaimed. “You know what? Since you want to gossip so much, how about we finally talk about your relationship with Gwendolyn Tideborn?”
Daruk gasped; his eyes panicked as Synové turned to him once more. “Daruk, you have a girlfriend?”
“No!” He replied immediately. “It's more of a…situationship. We're just friends who like each other's company and spend a whole lot of time together.”
“That's a lie, and you know it.” Aodhán refused to let him off the hook so easily, but Aldric poked his head into the kitchen once more. “Are you guys still talking about love? Mom, I'm hungry.”
“Yes, yes.” Daruk hastily agreed. “Let us suspend this conversation. My headache is back, and I don't have the strength to gossip anymore.”
“Is that so?” Synové scowled before turning her attention to Aldric. “What about you, Aldric? Care to fill your mother in on your love life?”
“Uhm…” Aldric pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, I think I'm good.”
Daruk slunk towards the entrance, and Synové glared at them. “You guys never give me any tea, yet you want to eat my food. I'll make sure these pancakes are burnt, wet, and sloppy!”
Aodhán almost puked from the image Synové's words conjured. Daruk heaved, and Aldric scowled. “I never knew you could be so evil, mom.” He shook his head. “I'm still not telling you anything.”
He left the kitchen, and Daruk hastily followed after him, leaving Aodhán standing by the entrance with a smug smile and folded arms.
Synové turned back to him, but before she could say anything, Aodhán shook his head. “Nope, I'm not telling you anything.”
“Who else will you speak to about it, though? Daruk? Aldric? Or—she grimaced—your father? Whom I'm sure is even more averse to the topic.”
Aodhán wasn't swayed, so Synové threw away her metaphorical knives and took out the big guns.
“It's alright.” She shrugged and turned her gaze to the eggs she was frying. “You don't have to tell me everything that goes on in your life.”
Aodhán's gaze narrowed in suspicion, but Synové just smiled. “Truly, you don't. Although I wonder what that girl must be going through, didn't you say she hasn't replied to any of your texts? What if she's—oh!”
“What if she's what?” Aodhán asked curiously and a little worriedly, but Synové shook her head. “I probably shouldn't say, you know, women's matters and all.”
Aodhán frowned, watching Synové, who shook her head bitterly and sighed. “It's a shame, truly.”
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Aodhán sidled closer, wanting to know Synové's thoughts on the matter. The fact that Lupin wasn't replying to his texts was extremely worrisome, but if Synové had an idea of what could possibly be going on—which, now that he thought about it, she probably did, considering she was also a woman and all—then he had to know.
“When you say women matters, what do you mean?” He asked, but Synové shook her head and smiled sadly at him. “I might have an idea of what's going on, but I can't—shouldn’t even share it with you. Besides, my instincts could be wrong, considering I have no information about the relationship at all, so it's better if I don't say anything.”
Aodhán hesitated, struggling between his curiosity and the desire to keep his relationship secret from his adopted parents. His curiosity won out in the end, and Aodhán soon found himself blushing in embarrassment as he narrated his dates to Synové, who giggled and gasped in all the right places.
Aldric and Daruk returned from wherever they'd escaped to as Aodhán placed a large stack of pancakes on the table. He paused, unwilling to continue his narration in front of his traitorous siblings, and a few minutes later, the delicious smell of fluffy brown pancakes accompanied by warm maple syrup, butter, and powdered sugar filled the air.
Synové placed a small tray of bacon and scrambled eggs on the table and patted Aodhán gently. “We'll continue our conversation later.”
Just as they sat down to eat, Unrid walked into the house, holding a stack of newspapers. He dumped the papers on the table and growled. “I have never read anything as traumatizing as this column in the Sensational Daily. When has such explicit content been allowed into the local newspaper?”
Aodhán snatched the paper, his eyes narrowing as he read the headline.
Electrifying and irresistable: Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion is not only taking the sector by storm but the hearts of noble dames too.
He grimaced as he saw a picture of himself sneaking out of the Vilaris estate printed on the first page. Despite his hiding and sneaking, the picture was surprisingly clear and clean, putting all his hard work to shame.
“Damn! That's a nice picture.” Aldric muttered from behind him, but Aodhán wasn't listening; instead, his gaze was on the words printed below the picture.
...The burial of the esteemed Lord Elarion Vilaris marked the beginning of the dry season and became the talk of the sector for reasons beyond mere mourning attire. Amidst the sea of impeccably designed gowns and tailored suits, one figure stood out: Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion. This first-year student from the 5th Academy, notorious for 'accidentally' bonding with a familiar in the evolved class, ignited scandalous whispers among the young lords and ladies.
The night was charged with desire, as many aristocrats, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming, couldn't take their eyes off the champion candidate. Bold vows were made, and one particularly daring heiress, who shall remain nameless, confided to her companions her determination to have a private moment with the miraculous Aodhán, yearning to feel his electrifying touch on her skin.
Yet, much to her dismay, the champion candidate vanished before the evening's end, leaving a trail of restless dreams and burning hearts in his wake...
Aodhán stopped reading, completely embarrassed, but before he could tear the paper to pieces, Aldric plucked it from his fingers and moved to continue reading with Daruk and Synové.
“Sorry kid.” Unrid shook his head. “As bad as it is, I must confess that I read it to the end. In fact, I wasn't the only one reading; there were like a dozen people reading with me.”
Aodhán just sighed and shook his head. What was there to say anyway?
When Synové finished reading the column, she shook her head and said to him, “I just don't get why they would write such explicit things about you.”
“Me neither.” Daruk agreed, his eyes roaming Aodhán's body in amusement. “I mean, I don't get the appeal; he's not even that good-looking.”
Aodhán let out a deep breath and sank into the chair, promising to skewer the next reporter he found on his doorstep when Aldric called out. “Hey, listen to this part: 'many are curious as to how far those lightning arcs on his skin go and how it might feel to trace them or taste them’. Damn, now I regret not having gone to the party.”
“That's enough reading.” Synové grabbed the newspaper from Aldric and folded it. “What were they thinking to print this out on paper?”
“The better question is how dad got them.” Aldric turned to his father and grinned. “It's obviously a paper for thirsty women.”
Unrid, who was downing a cup of ice-cold water, almost spat it out and rushed to explain. “It was the first one I saw at the vendor, so I just paid and took them.”
Synové glared at him. “You mean you bought—she counted the stack—three of this crap?”
“I realize now that I seemed to have made a mistake.” Unrid replied, and Daruk laughed. “What do we even need three newspapers for?”
While the family bickered and dragged Unrid over his accidental choice of newspapers, Aodhán piled a stack of pancakes on his plates, doused them in maple syrup, and began eating. At this point, fighting his growing fame was pointless, and with his mind already occupied with thoughts of Lupin, he had no mental room for the press.
He wondered if Lupin would read the paper or what she might think if she did. Perhaps she would finally text him back and let him know what was going on.
As if his thoughts had reached through time and space, a notification pinged in his mind, and his eyes widened when he realized it was from Lupin. Hastily, he opened the message, but his growing excitement withered as he read through the dour message.
I apologize for the late reply; I've not been in the best place emotionally. The awakening party has been cancelled. I should have sent this earlier, but I just couldn't. Congratulations on finally gaining a seal, though; you've earned it.
Aodhán frowned. If he was merely worried before, now he was very, very worried. Noble events, regardless of how small, weren't so easily cancelled. The fact that they'd cancelled this one clued him to the fact that something really bad had happened.
Now that he had her attention, though, he immediately replied, curious to know what was going on.
“What's wrong?” Daruk asked, and Aodhán looked up to find his entire family staring at him worriedly.
“Lupin just texted to inform me that the event has been cancelled.”
“Something bad must have happened.” Synové frowned. “Nobles don't just cancel events out of the blue like that.”
“I know. I just asked her why, but she hasn't replied yet.” Aodhán sent her another text, asking for her house address so he could visit, and this time, her reply was immediate.
No, I'm sorry. But we're not accepting visitors at the moment. Don't worry about me, though. I'll be fine.
Aodhán read the message out loud and looked at Synové. “What do you think?”
She sputtered for a moment before replying. “I honestly don't know. What I do know is that something terrible must have happened if they aren't even accepting visitors.”
“She could also be lying.” Aldric remarked dryly, and when they all turned to look at him, he shrugged. “What? It's called petering out. You ghost a person and reply with monosyllabic answers. It works every time.”
“It sounds like you're speaking from experience.” Daruk muttered, and Aldric turned red from embarrassment, although he quickly snuffed out the emotion and asked. “What in the world could have given you such a ridiculous thought?”
Not knowing what to say or think, Aodhán just shook his head. He doubted Aldric was right, though. He had known Lupin for weeks now, and she wasn't the type to concoct an entire scheme rather than just break things off with him. Besides, she'd been so excited for the party when they'd parted at the academy gates. What had happened between then and now?
In the tense silence that followed, Aodhán's mind roiled, trying to understand what was going on, but he couldn't, and a minute later, Daruk muttered. “Well, I guess we're staying home then. We could use this time to plan the Blackwell thing.”
Synové glared at Daruk. “Be sensitive, Daruk.” She then turned to Aodhán and patted his palms gently. “I'm sure she's fine and will text you soon. Even if she doesn't, you guys can talk when you resume after the break.”
Aodhán nodded and tried to finish his food, but he'd lost his appetite, and after a few more slices, he gave up and went to his room.
He searched for something to do and even took out his note to practice his runes, but he couldn't focus, so he recreated his storm scarf, wrapped it around his face, and jumped out of the window.
He created a storm platform just a moment before he crashed into Synové's garden, and after a momentary glance at the rapidly growing flowers, he zoomed off towards Norbuik.
His troubled thoughts disappeared as he zipped towards the shopping mall, and when he arrived, he moved up to the second floor and made his way to artificer’s shop for his pendant.
The man smiled when he saw him. “Right on time, customer. I just finished with it.” He took out a small wooden box from his spatial storage and handed it over. “I hope you like it. It has its own storage space, which slightly exceeds the size you asked for, but asides that, all things are in order.”
Aodhán collected the box and opened it to find an exact replica of the pendant currently hanging on his neck. Black lines arced around the jagged bolt pendant, which glowed slightly with residual energy.
Aodhán took out the necklace he'd bought the other day, and after hooking it with the pendant, he grinned. “Thanks, it fits perfectly.”
The imitation could barely be differentiated from the original, and after another moment of scrutiny to ensure that the necklace was indeed perfect, he paid the artificer and returned home.
It had barely been an hour since Lupin's text, but the ride to and from the mall had calmed him. Rather than go through the front door, Aodhán entered through his window, only to find Daruk and Aldric lounging on his bed.
“I would ask where you were coming from, but I doubt you'll tell me.” Aldric smirked from his position on the bed, but Aodhán just rolled his eyes. “I went to the mall to get something.”
Daruk sighed in relief. “For a moment there, I thought you'd done something irrational, like go to Cavanaugh's estate.”
“I don't even know where it is.” Aodhán shook his head and constructed a chair for himself to sit on. “I contemplated texting Rahim to ask for her address.”
“Well, I'm so glad you didn't.” Aldric replied and pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Now, can we discuss the Blackwell mission? We need to come up with a plan if we're to succeed.”
Aodhán let out a heavy sigh, already weary of the direction this conversation was taking, but he forced himself to concentrate and asked. “So, how do we go about it?”
Aldric cocked his head in confusion. “Shouldn't we be the ones asking you that?”
Daruk frowned. “Before we start making any plans, can you give a quick summary of the whole mission so we can really focus our minds and get into a resourceful headspace?”
Aldric nodded in agreement, and Aodhán sighed. “Basically, principal Zatya tasked me with stealing —”
“Retrieving.” Aldric interjected, and Aodhán glared at him.
“It's only retrieving if what I was asked to steal was hers in the first place. It wasn't.”
Aldric shook his head in disagreement, but before he could speak, Daruk cut in. “It doesn't matter what word we use. Neither of them makes this mission any less illegal.”
“Right.” Aodhán agreed and cleared his throat. “Like I was saying, she tasked me with stealing a pair of uncommon-ranked earrings in the possession of Makeba Blackwell, Imani's grandmother and the viscountess of Duskshire.”
Aldric whistled appreciatively, and Daruk shook his head in confusion. “What does she need uncommon-ranked earrings for?”
“She doesn't.” Aodhán replied. “This dastardly mission is a test.”
“What happens if we fail?” Aldric asked, and Daruk sighed in frustration. “Have you not been listening, Aldric? Jail. If we get caught in this mission, we're going to be locked up.”
Aldric snorted. “I highly doubt that'll happen, but you know what, little brother, if you're scared, you can always sit at home and bake pancakes with mother.”
Daruk glared at both of them before huffing. “You guys are not doing this without me.”
“Good.” Aldric grinned. “Now that we're on the same page, what do we have to work with?”
Aodhán took out two items from his spatial storage: one was a map of the Blackwell mansion, and the other was a palm-sized picture of the earrings he was supposed to steal.
He created a table construct and spread the map on it. Aldric and Daruk moved closer, and together they perused the complex map of the six-story mansion until they found Makeba's living quarters, which was situated on the 5th floor, along with the rooms of several other family members, cultivation rooms, and even a time chamber.
Aodhán marked the room with a pen and said, “So, now that we know the location of Makeba's room, all that is left is finding the earrings.”
Daruk hummed in contemplation. “Considering its rank, it's highly unlikely that the earrings are well protected; in fact, it's very possible that they're laying around somewhere among a pile of useless jewelry.”
Aodhán nodded in agreement. “Which means getting the earrings themselves shouldn't be too hard. What we need to figure out is how to open whichever drawer or chest the earrings are hidden in.”
“No, we've gotten ahead of ourselves.” Aldric frowned at the map and said, “We haven't discussed how to get into Makeba's room. That is our first and major hurdle.”
“Right.” Daruk agreed. “We also need to discuss how to escape the attention of the nobles at the party as well as a method to get past the guards most definitely stationed on each floor.”
Aldric shook his head and muttered. “I didn't want to say this, but we need to discuss how to silence the runic protections that most definitely surround Makeba's room.”
Aodhán stared intently at the map, his eyes locked on the fifth floor, where Makeba's quarters were situated. After a prolonged moment of contemplation, he let out a sigh. “Let's set our problems aside for now. What we need is information.” He leaned back on his chair and fixed his gaze on his brothers. “What do we know about the Blackwells?”