Numisley was eating breakfast with Cultrost and Racieros. The [Innkeeper]’s bowl of tomato and corn stew is filling them with energy. The rest of their company was staying at different inns because of how full the inns are three days before the celebration of the opening city’s only library.
“You made contact with one of your family members.”
“I did.”
Numisley had already told Racieros about his meeting with his cousin yesterday.
“So what are you going to do now?”
“We’re meeting him later at sunset.”
“You’re coming with Cultrost?”
“Yes. He’s my brother, after all.”
“They will not recognize that. Most of us haven’t seen a Satyr before. We only heard of them as [Pirates] and [Raiders] from the far northern coasts of Trislan.”
“I’ll be with my brother. I do not care what they think.” Cultrost interrupted.
“You should. Numisley will be tested if your brother will be worthy of Naveirei’s name, most likely. If you come with Numisley, you’ll both be ridiculed.”
Numisley sighed, weakly lifting the wooden spoon to his mouth.
“He’s right. But…I’ll find a way, Cultrost.”
After that morning, Cultrost was running errands around the city, going to the two inns that the separate members of the caravan to inform them that they will be transporting the barrels of fish later.
He went to Palden, Armith, and Josaif’s inn, where they were staying a street away from them. Cultrost told them to dispose of the rotten fish in one of the city’s cesspits because they would not follow the Count’s plans anymore. Originally, they bought Raudaeiz and his gang to smuggle the rotten fish to the kitchens, but it isn’t needed anymore since Numisley wants to ingratiate himself with the Naveireis, and the Count now wants to take the book from them.
“Can we talk?” Cultrost asked Palden, who was sitting on a bench in front of the inn that they were staying in. He was sipping hot water from a white waterskin, etched with a rune, the smallest unit of etched enchantment.
“Sure.” Palden placed his waterskin beside him.
“What is that?” Cultrost had to ask about that enchanted waterskin.
“Oh, this? A waterskin. Enchanted to warm your water.”
“Warm? Not cold?”
“I heard from that same Satyr that I bought it from trials ago that warm water’s healthy for ya’.”
“Interesting.”
Cultrost’s eyes wandered towards many of the local Humans in the city glancing at them as they passed by. The locals see an aged foreign Human with tusks and a strange red person with horns, strange people from a land from an ocean beyond. Cultrost had gradually been used to the foreign gazes of the locals; the only lone Satyr in the port city as far as he knows, despite being visited by other peoples from the southern continent of Lemuria and their homeland.
“So, what do you want to talk about? Your brother?” Palden turned to Cultrost with a genuine intent to listen.
“Yeah. I’m afraid that he’s going to have to abandon me.” Cultrost admitted.
“What? Oh, the thing with his…relatives.”
“His real family.”
“Family is family.” Palden pounded his left knee.
“I wish that it were true. Numisley’s a Naveirei. I have no idea what it entails. But I know that he’s a Human from this kingdom. Not from Renimburg. His mother and father are not mine.”
“But they took you in, did they not? In the winter sometime ago, where you were in front of their door. Without a blanket or a basket even. They picked you up from the snow. They raised you as their own.”
“But they’re gone. Mother’s gone. Father’s gone. Numisley’s all I have left. And he will be gone.”
“I’m here. I accompanied you brothers because you are family to me. I have never been married; with me roaming across the Stokeburn Desert and all. Even if you don’t pay me, I’ll be with you two.” Palden paused. “Besides, he will find a way, like he always has.”
Palden stood up from his bench. It dawned on Cultrost that he was the closest person to an uncle. He was the longest employee of the old Gildin Trading.
“Can you help me buy things in the market?”
Cultrost stood up, scanning the street.
“I guess. What do you need?”
“Hmm…Let’s find some horseshoes for the horses. Oh, rations. ”
They walked to the nearest market, a quarter where all the shops are. They saw someone polishing a horseshoe on a bench. His other horseshoes were hanging on wooden racks, some having a faint glow of their enchantment.
The [Farrier] looked up with a twitching eye.
“We–”
“Go away, Inhuman. I do not serve your kind.”
The Satyr stared at Palden, then back to the [Farrier]. His temper started to boil until he saw the [Soldiers] patrolling the streets. His rage fizzled as Palden ushered him away to find another person who will be willing to sell to them.
However, Cultrost already knew that someone like him doesn’t belong to this kingdom.
-
Two men walked within the streets near the hill where the citadel is. One of them idly munched on some bread with cheese that they got for free because of the occasion. They stared at the road that coiled around the hill, guarded by three gatehouses. They had followed Numisley and Racieros as they ascended to the citadel.
“Their defenses are pretty good. Aside from the hill and gatehouse…there’s some spells bound on the incline. The towers scattered around have a wide field of vision. The citadel’s walls are enchanted too.”
“I see. Even if Numisley’s in trouble within the castle, we can't rescue him.”
Raudaeiz was ordered by Numisley to scout out the defenses just in case he got in trouble. He did not bring the rest of his gang except for Jrain, a [Thief] like him. He possesses the useful ability to detect defensive spells and defenses in a structure due to his collection of Feats.
They saw a congregation of Human [Priests], reading scrolls and books of their scriptures as if they are reading laws in front of a court. One young and stocky man bore a bronze standard of nine halos and another hooded figure bore the banner of the Naveirei House. Some of the hunched figures wore chained heavy tomes that made their pace labored as they seemed to make a circuit around the hill of the Ascolitican Citadel.
With each chant and litany of the divine laws written on their sheets and books, the hill seemed to glow subtly, more protected than usual. It is as if it were imbued with divine protection. As they get closer to Raudaeiz and Jrain, they felt their hair stand on end when they felt the holy aura of the [Priests]. Raudaeiz and Jrain now noticed men armed with spears and wooden shields flanking the procession; arms shining with faith.
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One of them glanced at the [Thief] duo and they decided to nonchalantly walk away to another street, getting away from them as far as possible. They had never experienced such primal fear before, as if their prayers kept criminals away. They felt like if one of their [Crusaders] spotted them, they inevitably would be hunted for their past crimes.
They stopped in front of a store that sells vases. Raudaeiz looked back, his eyes drifting towards the citadel that overlooked the rest of the city, sweat rising from his skin.
“Damn you, Numisley. Don’t fuck this up. Whatever it is you need to do in this shitty city.”
He wondered what would become of them when Numisley attains his place in the Naveirei House.
-
Numisley later arrived with Racieros at the castle as the sun descended to the southeast. Palden had brought the two wagons filled with the barrels of fish from Ovespuerte that the [Count] contributed to the party; albeit with a bad batch that would sabotage the party if Numisley didn’t betray the [Count].
“Are you sure that it’s alright to Cultrost to not come? Maybe I should send Palden to fetch him.”
“I would want him here too. But, even I know…he can’t come. A half-breed like me is scoffed at. Cultrost? He wouldn’t be welcome here. He’s not Human. I won't have him killed.”
Numisley pondered at Racieros’ thoughtful tone. He speaks of Cultrost like he was more than a friend. His [Exploit Emotional Vulnerability] nudged him to somewhere he didn’t think of.
His train of thought vanished when they were led to the pantry, where they were directed by one of the castle’s [Servants]. Numisley was surprised by the size of the pantry, full of racks of hanging herbs and preserved meat and fish and jars of spices, barrels of wine, pots, and amphorae of juices, and boxes of various vegetables and fruits.
“Good luck.” Palden held Numisley’s shoulder and left the pantry. Soon after, Anteojor entered the pantry.
“My father is expecting you.”
Anteojor led them through the castle’s halls. They evaded the notice of the few nobility who were days early to the party. Numisley saw the beauty of the castle, its glided jambs, its carpeted floors, its clear windows, the banners of House Naveirei; everything that the castle has, is a grandeur Numisley haven’t seen before, only imagined from stories that he read in his father’s small collection of books.
They had finally arrived at a glided set of wooden doors. Anteojor turned towards Numisley.
“My father will be testing you if you are worthy of the Naveirei name.”
“Test?”
“Yes. I do not know how. However…you need to show respect toward him. Any of the nobility for that matter. When you enter that room, you need to kneel.”
Racieros intensely glared at Numisley. Numisley held his distasteful comments about the nobility back, swallowing them into his internal thoughts. He understands how important this is, especially for him.
“Yes.” Numisley sighed. The door opened gently, and Numisley’s felt the buzzing of the air on his skin as he was led into the office. A wave of domineering power washed over him as he saw the aged spectacled man sitting across Numisley, analyzing Numisley’s gaze, his gait, and how his lips quivered. The magical glasses unraveled Numisley’s abilities before the [Mage Marquis].
Numisley kneeled a second after realizing what he was supposed to do. He was holding his cane tight as he have difficulty kneeling.
“My lord. Thank you for taking the time to meet me. I’m Numisley G–Naveirei. Son of Jascias Naveirei and Marhyiana Naveirei. Upon my blood, honor, and homeland, I declare my intention to undergo the Ritual of the Ichoricon to prove my heritage.”
He had recited this line repeatedly before he slept ever since he received the copy of some laws of the Divine Decree about inheritance laws from Thewardn. The aura that poured out from Marquis Escribanorr Tres Naveirei contained itself in the lord’s body.
“So, it is true that Lady Marhyiana had conceived a son with that commoner.”
Numisley looked up for a second before bowing his head again.
“You can sit, Numisley Naveirei. Racieros, I'll hear what you want to say after Numisley. ”
Marquis Escribanorr gestured towards a plush padded chair sculpted from some kind of white wood. Racieros and Numisley sat on the two chairs. Numisley noticed that the windows seemed to be blurred as if the air itself obscured the view outside.
“Numisley. That’s a quintessential Libertalian name. Smart that your father didn’t choose a Torregornian name.”
“Why?” Numisley blurted out.
“The remnants of Gaviolos’ forces had chased your parents after their coup failed.”
“I heard that my parents were heroes. That they reinstated the royal line.”
“It is true.” Escribanorr confirmed.
“So…what’s the test? Your son…my cousin said that you will test me.”
Escribanorr stared at Numisley incredulously, until he realized what he was talking about.
“Oh, it's finished.”
“Excuse me?”
The [Marquis] poked at his monocle. The lens seemed to glow with a blue hue.
“First, I tested if whether you have an Aura or not by releasing my own. Like your mother, you have potential. Second, I used my Monocle of Appraisal, Antique-class, to see your Feats. I see that you had gained the Theme of [Reclaim Birthright]. I’m guessing your [Noble’s Disposition] came from that. Hence why despite your…clothes, your Feat can present the best version of yourself. It’s not enough. people can hear your Libertalian accent when you speak our tongue.”
“So, will you help me?”
“Of course. You are one of us. However, a condition.”
Numisley already expected this, and he already has a deal of his own. A requirement for him is if they want him into the Naveirei House.
“What is this condition?”
“Let me explain the situation at the Naveirei’s line of succession. The Yhrilian lines of succession follow the principle of ‘Ichorial Legitimacy’. What that means is that the heir that possesses ‘purer’ blood, blood closest to the Thousand Bloodlines, what you commoners call ‘the royalty’, will inherit the primary privileges and titles of their parent. In this case, if we can somehow prove that you are the rightful heir of the main family, you will inherit the leadership after Duchess Estepina Naveirei dies of old age."
Now Numisley understands why that Castellan called Racieros a “half-breed”.
“However, there’s an issue. Can I see your paralyzed leg? My son, your cousin told me about it.”
Numisley pulled out the hem of his pants. His disability was laid before Marquis Escribanorr, his left leg thinner than his right. Escribanorr silently cast magnification and magic-detecting enchantments on his spectacles to see the curse of Numisley’s bloodline.
“This is the issue. Whenever one of the members of the Thousand Bloodlines conceives a child with a commoner, a curse will fall upon them.”
“You’re telling me that I’m cursed? For what? Being born? From the love of my parents? Did my mother die because of this stupid curse?”
Escribanorr bit his lip, expecting this. Racieros glared at Numisley and turned towards the Naverei [Marquis].
“I apologize for my companion’s rudeness.” Racieros finally spoke up, hoping to calm them down before a fight starts.
“I don’t mind. He has a right to be angry. As long as he understands the necessity of our bloodline.” Escribanorr reassured.
“What do you mean?” Numisley asked, slumping back in his seat.
“It is said that our curse of the Thousand Bloodlines discourages any bastard child from usurping power. The curse ultimately manifests into disability or death. , I find it…odd that they would risk your birth knowing this. Odder still...that your mother died because of your birth. She was the strongest woman I ever knew. She would not die from that.”
“W-what? So, it can’t be fixed?”
“It can be fixed. Not with healing potions. However, it is expensive. To hire a high-ranking [Priest] of the Divine Decree, with a rare healing [Miracle] that could fix your disability, will take a thousand gold coins at least.”
Numisley sighed. It is the same thing back home. It seems like the temples and their clergies have a monopoly on healing dire illnesses and conditions no matter the continent.
“To get back on the topic, we want to back you in proving your heritage. There will be people who will hinder you towards your goal. We shall protect you from that. In exchange, when you become the head of the Naveirei House in the future, please support us in anything we need. ”
“Favors.” Numisley bluntly uttered.
“Yes. Favors. We simply want you to be on our side always if you attain the position. We shall back you up on any matters. If we take the mantle ourselves, the other branches will see it as us usurping the position. With you, we can avoid conflict within the Naveirei House.”
“Numsley and his company are also being chased down by my family, the [Count] Commerro. He sent [Mercenaries] after us.” Racieros cut in. “Because they know Numisley’s one of the Naveirei.”
“The man named Dustitoz Gaviolos had killed my father and still hunts me. I’m not sure if he’s still back in Libertalia or not.” Numisley informed.
“He’s with the Commerros. I know because of my network. He’s on his way. Their faction’s still powerful despite being humiliated by your parents and stripped of their rank. They can barge through the party. If we have a deal, I’ll inform the rest of my family members and attempt to hinder them. ”
“I have one condition. According to your laws, Decree of Authority, On Familial Rites, Section Six, I can make an adopted family member a [Knight], therefore, making him a provisioned member of the nobility.”
“So?”
“So, my condition is: make my Satyr brother, Cultrost Gildin, a [Knight]. My [Knight].”