Today is the day that Numisley had thought of a thousand times since he had learned of his origins. Today is the day that he dreamt of for countless days. His trials and tribulations, his scars and sacrifices, was all for this day. Yet there was a thumping trepidation in his chest, a perturbation in his confidence that worsened with each day before today.

Numisley refused to listen to these doubts, for he had crossed the ocean for this. He would not let his promise to his brother and the company ring hollow, for these promises are too great to avoid fulfilling. He can stand properly now, as much as someone with one working leg and a staff can stand tall and presentable. Gone were the usual practical but sufficiently fashionable beige embroidered tunic that he usually wears to keep up appearances; now replaced with a white and grey doublet that is simple for the standards of the aristocracy. While he was taught what he needed to know as an up-and-coming noble, he still felt like he was a frail boy before the wide world.

He was informed that he would be accompanied by a caravan composed of a few of the Naveirei. Escribanorr emphasized that the matriarch of the Naveirei, which is his grandmother by blood, will be attending the ritual and trial of the Ichoricon. He distinctly remembered how his blood went cold when he saw that old woman, wielding a heavy weapon with a single arm and threatening war against the Commerros. And he knew that she didn’t like him, even with the blood that is vested within him.

Escribanorr ushered him outside of his residence in Ascolitica, before the wide gates of the castle. They stood for aching moments before a bevy of [Knights], [Mages], and [Servants] who were mustering in the tiled grounds before the castle, hopping on carts and horses. The other members of House Naveirei were either curious about the newest member of the House, or trying to determine if Numisley is a pretender, a future asset, or a rival.

“Why not use the carpets?” Numisley asked.

“We do not want to risk getting shot in the air by arrows or spells. And whenever they are brought out, they will be worn out further by the wind. I only brought them out because of your summons.” Escribanorr answered, then asked another question to Numisley. “Have you decided on a new name?”

Across his ten days of recovery, Numisley was asked this question, for he was required to convert and adopt a local name from the book of names that Escribanorr gave him. He still dislikes the idea, but he swallows his complaint even now.

“Not yet.” Numisley answered.

“You realize that you have to declare it, right?” Escribanorr asked.

“The idea of changing my identity and pledging myself to a pantheon of gods while there are other gods is a big ask, you know?”

“Our gods demand allegiance as much as worship. Much like how [Kings] would not accept subjects who have other masters.”

“I want a name that remains close to my origins,” Numisley said. “That sounds similar to my own. Three names in that book might fit me.”

They were interrupted by the declaration of trumpets and a [Herald] that spoke the name and title of the matriarch of the Naveirei. The Duchess Matironra marched in a riding dress beside an armored bodyguard, with one of them bearing the House banners. She stood stiffly beside Escribanorr and Numisley and addressed the other members of House Naveirei.

“As is tradition, the [Trader] Numisley Gildin, who claims to be the son of Marhyiana and Jascias Ehvreto will be joining us in this procession to the Ichoricon that will take place in the temple of Scanircasa before his trial. You all shall determine if he is worthy of our name.”

After that announcement, the Duchess retired to the blue enchanted carriage along with Escribanorr, while Numisley was relegated to a carriage nearest to that main carriage, reminding him that he is both guest, outsider, and subject of scrutiny. This is the first time he rode a proper carriage instead of a cart or wagon. Instead of sitting on a wagon’s floor or a nailed bench, or if he was lucky, a sack of grain or a bale of hale, he rested on a padded seat. Instead of a coat for shelter or a canvas roof, he rides under a wooden roof. For him, this is a luxury foreign to him and gone are the aching pains of travel.

In the enchanted carriage, warded from any attempt of eavesdropping, and protected from most dangers, the matriarch and his son conversed about the matter of Numisley.

“Thank you for accepting my request, Mother.” Escribanorr expressed his gratitude.

“My promise of disowning you still stands if he causes me to lose face. How worthy is he?” Matinronra asked.

“Within ten days of recovering from fever, he had grasped our history and politics. He learned to speak our language in our way and bettered his manners. There may be some hiccups about that, but I know he will avoid embarrassing himself if he wants the approval of our House.”

“Too much of our House do politicking and not much else. We need people of action. How good is he in magic?”

“My advisor reported that he’s got no magical potential.”

“So that cane only got bound magic and he can’t recharge it.” Matinronra sighed. “And he’s a cripple, so no good as a [Warrior] either.”

“He has a surprising proficiency in using his aura.”

“As he should. Otherwise, I will not even consider him as a Naveirei. How prosperous is he? Who does he know?”

“The reports say that he sells all manner of things, most notable being fish sauce made by a [Fermenter] from Ascogres which sees a rising popularity both Commerro and our lands. He partnered with a foreign [Merchant] named Aryyad Guizzimeraime from Rhundi to sell more goods, and he holds a place in the Commerro’s court.”

“Good for someone his age. Maybe he’s useful after all.”

“I hope that the rest of the House sees his value.”

The trip to the site where the Ichoricon will take place takes a day or two via horseback. The caravan had stopped beside an ancient road of a bygone civilization, stripped of all its depleted runes and magical circuits that once provided magical lights and speed for those who had traversed it. A sprawling, well-guarded camp was quickly set up by [Servants] next to the ruins of an ancient watchtower stripped of all its brick and mortar except for its half-buried foundation. Lavish tents were set up after [Priests] consecrated the land to scare away monsters and deter maledictive magics and [Mages] erected low earthen walls around the perimeter. Food was cooked up as soon as the ingredients were prepared. A long table where all the Naveirei, including Numisley, were already in place within a pavilion summoned with a spell scroll.

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All eyes were on Numisley, who sat on the right side of the table. He knew that every eye judged him by the seat he had chosen to sit on and the manner he arranged himself on the chair. Numisley saw familiar faces from his first foray into Ascolitica, where he was brought to the celebration of the opening of the library such as Alerra and Agnelerri, but more unfamiliar faces that either examined him out of curiosity or glared at him like he was mere dirt. Now that he had seen the gathering of Naveirei back then, he noticed many familial commonalities such as olive skin and sharp noses, but also characteristics such as their unnatural grace and the surety of their presence; and it seemed like magic itself gathered around them.

“Nice to meet you again, cousin.” Agnelerri greeted after he recognized Numisley, bringing along his spouse, Alerra. “We have heard great things about you.”

“Scandalous things.” A member of the Naveirei butted in, overhearing them. “I’ve heard that you incited a riot in Ovespuerte and committed many crimes.”

“You know how people slander.” Numisley calmly replied. “The truth is that other [Traders] are jealous of my friendship with the current head of the Commerro House, and I was helping him with their finances when they became bankrupt.”

Escribanorr told Numisley this is the most challenging of tasks because he had to prove himself to the rest of the House before the Ichoricon itself. Regardless of the results of the Ichoricon he must win them over if he wants to profit from them.

“So it is true that Ovespuerte got raided by [Pirates]? A shame.” Alerra said.

“Unfortunately. As you heard, Lord Escribanorr has been investing in the restoration and renovation of Ovespuerte for a share in the port’s annual profits. I whispered to Lady Strraina the idea.” Numisley casually mentioned.

Some were impressed, and some were mildly surprised. There were a few faces that Numisley could not read for they either did not pay attention to him or they hid their feelings well in a casual veil. What’s important for him now is that he presents himself as someone accomplished and useful.

“If you wish to invest, I can give a word to the Commerros. Though I think as days pass the shares grow fewer.” Numisley added.

“Apologies for Niovinè.” Agnelerri apologized in behalf of his cousin.

“I know that you all distrust me. For good reason. Understandable. In your perspective, I am but an unknown variable that claims to be a member of your House. A son of my mother, who I heard was once a heroine of this kingdom and my father who supported her. I only came here to live up to their names.”

Escribanorr saw Numisley regaling the members of the House with his tale on how he found out about his origins, and how he crossed the Obscure Ocean. He knew this was his attempt to endear himself to the rest of the members who chose to witness the Ichoricon ritual, playing on their curiosity. Yet he thinks that he embellishes and leaves out pertinent details.

Once Matinronra sat down and the food was set, the table became quiet out of respect. A [Priest] that accompanied them led the brief prayer, dedicated to the nine deities that their religion venerated and worshiped.

Numisley remembered how to eat as Escribanorr taught him, from his posture to how he picked up the fork and knife and chewed without making any noise. The dinner proceeded without issue, with the Naveirei either talking about Numisley or important events. Some asked Numisley many questions, and the rest silently judged him throughout the night even after dinner. The Naveirei at the end of the day either taught that he might be a potential asset or a nuisance.

After dinner, Escribanorr tasked his [Wand Servants] to set up detection spells around Numisley’s tent in case of assassination. He instructed the most loyal of his [Spell Knights] to guard his tent for good measure until morning. The next day, they left the camp after breakfast to the temple of Scanircasa at a regular, unhurried pace.

Several hours later they had arrived in the vicinity of the Temple of Scanircasa. The Naveirei caravan set foot on the clearing of vast tiles made out of cracked sunset-colored stone. Remnants of walls reduced to vague lines of rubble and despoiled altars ground by weather and time were around the temple of the Ichorvators itself, a newer granite building by centuries upon the ruins it squatted upon. Carved blood-stained ducts on that ancient surface spread from the temple like arteries from a heart. Horses were tied on the remnants of pillars and wooden poles recently erected, and the Naveirei ascended the granite steps of the Scanircasa temple. Numisley’s heart thumped with trepidation upon the sight of the statue of a god cutting its wrist with a knife at the entrance; its wound bleeding despite being made out of unliving stone, and its blood seeped on the grates of the altar. Beside the statues are two of the Ichorvators which greeted the visitors, and led them further into the temple. Along the alcoves of the temple’s hallway, Numisley saw weapons, pieces of armor, goblets, and even shrouds all stained with blood behind clear glass. Men and women were led into separate rooms, and instructed to change into simple white robes for the ritual. Numisley didn’t get the significance of it, yet he obediently followed, leaving his clothes on a table along with the others within the changing area.

The procession of the Naveirei spread out into the stone seats arranged in a circle around the ritual site: a quartz stage, meticulously engraved with minuscule scores across its surface. At the centerpiece of the quartz platform is a sharp and smooth quartz spike impaling a stone bowl. Four stone platforms were placed on the cardinal directions of the ritual site, and on one of them is a red-robed [Priest] with a staff of crystalized blood, his cheeks and jaw with white ash yet his hood covered the rest of his face.

“I’m the High Ichorvator authorized by Ichoruin, the God of Covenants and the pact that binds our gods and sovereigns to settle this claim through the Ichoricon Rite.” The [High Priest] proceeded to invoke a prayer dedicated to the aforementioned god, and his acolytes and attendants participated. Numisley mentally reviewed the events that would happen, and the statements and arguments he had to say.

“Claimant.” The [Priest] spoke to Numisley. “Step on the platform.”

Numisley limped forward, stepping on the quartz platform. As soon as he took that one step, the magic crystal on his walking staff was rendered inert, making him lose balance for a moment before he saved himself from tripping.

“State your name and purpose.”

“I am Numisley Gildin, who claims the name of Naveirei. I came to Torregorn from across the ocean to claim my rightful heritage and inheritance given to me by my father Jascias Ehvreto and Maryhiana Naveirei.” He said the words he rehearsed for hundreds of times.

“What makes you say that you are a rightful claimant of the Naveirei?”

Numisley told the events that had transpired that had led them to this point, instinctively using the Feat he had never used before: [Argument of the Claimant] which added credibility to his argument by the Feat automatically adding the proper words to his tongue before he could speak out loud. He plainly stated his circumstances, without the flair he used to impress others. Escribanorr and the matriarch of House Naveirei were instructed to stand on the remaining empty stone platforms. A thorough line of questioning ensued between the High Priest, Numisley, and the two prominent members of House Naveirei which ironed out the details of this claim. The questioning stopped as the High Priest called for a vote on whether or not Numisley should be accepted into the House. Among all the thirty members of the House that were able to attend the vote is nearly equal, but ultimately in favor of Numisley being accepted should he prove himself a true scion of Maryhiana.

“I invoke my right to protest.” One of the Naveirei spoke. It was Niovinè, the one who protested against his existence the first time that he saw him. “This individual conspires with our greatest enemy, Dustitoz Gaviolos. Do you all not find it strange that this individual landed on our shores several days before he emerged from exile. From the same land he had been exiled from? Be wary.”

Numisley had thought that this had gone all too smoothly, without the interference of that person. Yet he didn’t account for rumors spreading. The camp that voted for Numisley’s expulsion voiced their agreement with that statement, while the others whispered their uncertainties.

“Your concern is heard.” The High Priest said. “Yet regardless, the vote will not change as tradition dictates. Numisley Gildin, you are now allowed to prove your blood to the Ichorite. Stab your palm in that spike.”

Before Numisley knew it, his body acted on its own–compelled by the [Priest] and the ritual, and his hand pricked itself on the spike. Blood trickled on the lacerations on the quartz spike, pooling gently on the stone bowl. Numisley raised his hand in an instant as soon as his hand bled on the spike and stone bowl as if he accidentally burnt his hand on a sizzling pan. When he looked at his palm the wound that is supposedly there is gone, as if it was never pricked in the first place. He saw a portion of the quartz platform turn red, his blood now crawling through its intricate lines, branching towards Matinronra and Escribanorr, the longer and thicker line of blood pointing towards the matriarch of the Naveirei. Numisley was sure that he did not bleed this much to fill a quarter of the stage with his blood. The High Ichorvator divined the meaning behind the blood, examining how much it spread towards the direction of the Naveirei.

“Lord Ichoruin has declared that this individual is truly the son of the late Duc Marhyiana Unor Naveirei, daughter of Duc Matironra Teonecra Unor Naveirei, who claims descendance to Queen Navire of Mirthireda from sixty-five generations ago, who claims kinship to the sanctified bloodline of Estepine of the Thousand Peers of the First Empire of Man. Therefore he shall be inducted among the nobility of the Torregornian realm with a new identity. What say you?”

This is the moment that Numisley has to declare a new name for himself. He will not make them wait even further, and he decided upon a Torregornian name.

“I declare myself to be Numarr Unor Naveirei. I swear myself to Torregorn and the Nine Gods and their Decree to commit to my filial duties to my House.”

Numisley knows that this is merely his first trial for the days to come. The words now writing themselves on his soul confirm this as he receives the recognition of those present:

[Theme - Reclaim Birthright fulfilled.]

[Feat - Noble’s Disposition kept.]

[Title: Claimant of the Naveirei → Lord of House Naveirei.]

[New Role Attained: Lord.]