Power always reign's supreme. All that matters in this world is not morality, or justice, but strength. The strong dominate and rule, while the weak are trampled. This is the unchanging law, the natural order of the realm that is what i am taught.
One of the kingdom's 3 ducal family, The House of Veyrith known for their mages, I, Kael Veyrith. I am the second son of the duke. The useless son of the family. While my brother Valerius is a prodigy
He has always been talented with magic arts
I've been looked down upon by everyone for having no talent, My Father.....doesnt think of me as his son....
My mother, Isolda, found other, subtler ways to show her "disdain" her smiles were always a fraction too brief when turned my way, they looked as to pity someone who is crippled
When did it all change.....?
I remember it faintly now, that time when i was happy. before the ceremony my only escape from the constant reminder of my own failure.
Ah.....
4 years ago
Inside the grand ceremonial hall, nobles gathered.
Gold chandeliers.
Silk banners.
The coming age ceremony of nobles, sages gathered to let the world know about the future of the nation with the vassels present. The ceremony itself isnt a simple affair. It's also a political statement between nobility. Each child places their hand upon the Aethelgard, a crystalline obelisk said to be a shard of a fallen star.
The Aethelgard reveals their magical potential.
A soft, silver glow indicates a minor talent.
A blue light means a notable ability.
The rare gold light signals a major talent.But the gold glow, the legendary gold glow, The only man in history who has shined golden is the founder of the kingdom, King Albert the Conqueror. A gold glow today would be a political earthquake.
One by one, the sons and daughters of great houses went forward.
"Is that miss Alicia" Kael thought to himself as he watched the daughter of House Silverwood approach the stone. Her movements were fluid, each step a study in grace.
She is a beauty to be admired as her blonde hair and blue eyes are a thing of fairytales.
Alicia placed her palm flat against the cool, smooth surface of the obelisk.
The Aethelgard pulsed once, then flared to life. A brilliant, unwavering blue light enveloped her hand, climbing her arm like liquid sky.
A murmur of approval rippled through the hall.
"Remarkable," the aging royal mage declared, his voice echoing in the vast space. "A notable ability. House Silverwood has done well."
Then, it was Valerius's turn.
My brother strode forward with an easy confidence. He didn't walk; he commanded the space between himself and the Aethelgard. He placed his hand upon the stone without a hint of hesitation.
The hall held its breath.
For a moment, nothing. Then, a deep, resonant hum filled the air. The Aethelgard didn't just glow; it seemed to drink in the ambient light, focusing it all into a single point on Valerius's palm. A spark ignited there, then blossomed into a roaring pillar of red.
My eyes lighten up seeing my dear brother succeed. Not of jealousy but of admiration, that's what i thought to myself
"Thats amazing!!!!" i whisper shouted to myself.
The red light solidified, pure and vibrant, wrapping around his arm like a living flame. Whispers turned to outright exclamations of shock. A red glow. A major talent.
"Major talent! A major talent for House Veyrith!" the mage announced, his own voice trembling with a mixture of awe and political calculation. "The Duke's heir is a force to be reckoned with!"
My father's chest puffed out, a rare crack in his granite facade. He exchanged a look with the King, a look that spoke of alliances, of futures, of power. My mother's hand flew to her throat, her expression one of pure, unadulterated pride.
I watched it all from my seat, a ghost at the feast. I clapped until my palms stung, my cheers swallowed by the tsunami of adoration for my brother. But beneath the surface of my pride, a cold dread began to form, a shard of ice in my gut.
Then, the mage called my name. "Kael Veyrith."
The hall seemed to shrink. The sea of faces turned toward me, their expressions a mixture of anticipation, curiosity, and, from the rival houses, a sliver of hopeful malice. I rose, my legs feeling like lead weights. Every step toward the Aethelgard was a journey across a continent of shame.
I reached the obelisk. It was taller than me, humming with a power I could feel in my bones. I raised a trembling hand, my pale fingers stark against the dark, crystalline surface.
No Glow.
The royal mage shocked at this guided my hand again towards the crystal.
No Glow.
Not even a faint shimmer of silver.
A gasp ran through the assembled nobles, followed by a wave of stifled laughter. The sound was like a physical blow, each chuckle a needle against my skin.
The mage stared, utterly bewildered. He tapped the stone. "It is... it is functioning perfectly. The boy simply..." He couldn't finish. He didn't have to. The silence that followed was a verdict more damning than any words. My name, the Veyrith name, had become a joke.
My father's face was a fortress of fury. His jaw was a rigid line of stone, and the look he shot me was not of disappointment, but of profound, visceral disgust. It was the look one might give a stained tapestry or a broken sword. My mother's gaze was fixed on the floor, her porcelain mask of composure finally shattering, her features tight with humiliation. They weren't seeing me. They were seeing their own ambitions, crumbling to dust.
But it was Valerius's gaze that burned the brightest. He stood in the afterglow of his triumph, bathed in the residual red light, and watched me.
He was disapointed in me. I could see it in the way he held himself, as if my failure had soiled the very air he breathed.
I turned and fled.
I didn't walk back to my seat. I ran, shoving past oblivious pages and startled lesser nobles. The gilded doors of the hall seemed a mile away.
I burst through them into the blinding afternoon sun, the heavy oak crashing shut behind me and sealing the sounds of my disgrace inside. I didn't stop until I was hidden in the labyrinth of gardens behind the palace, my back pressed against the cold, damp stone of a sundial, my breath ragged in my throat.
That night, the world did not end, though mine had. The celebration of Valerius's talent raged within the Veyrith keep, a symphony of laughter and music that seemed to mock the suffocating silence in my own chambers.