Lyraea, a world of dark melodies and magic.This realm comprises different races, seven kingdoms, and three empires, spanning eight continents. Of the three empires, Caelum Empire boasts the longest history, founded a thousand years ago by the great hero Tenebrous Cael.
Born in the Age of Death and Heroes, the empire was forged when Tenebrous and countless other heroes fought the Great Terror and the Black Legion in a decade-long battle.
As countless heroes rose and fell, Tenebrous and his four companions founded Caelum Empire, establishing the four great duchies that still shape its landscape today. This victory ushered in the Age of Peace and Prosperity."
"Now, any questions, class?"
A woman in her forties finished her lecture, gazing at the curious faces and bright eyes. A girl raised her hand; after getting approval, she asked,
"The power division system... was it the same back then?"
The woman answered gently,
"It was invented during that time. As we know, there are seven ranks both in magic and aura – from Stone rank being the lowest to Celestial rank being the highest."
"But magic handles elements and aura handles weapons? They're two different things,"
Another boy inquired.
"Well, they both have seven levels, but the top two levels differ. In magic, they're Grand Mage and Celestial Mage; in Aura, they're Grandmaster and Celestial Master."
Another student asked;
"Wasn't there another rank above the celestial rank?"
"It's considered only a myth. Only twenty people have reached Celestial rank since the empire's creation – not counting legends. Anything else? Make sure to take notes."
...
A soft sunlight filtered through the small gap of velvet curtains, casting a warm glow across the elegant, spacious room. Its luxurious decor exuded a refined grandeur.
A beautiful wooden bed adorned with intricate carvings and velvet drapes stood against one wall, accompanied by plush pillows and a delicate lace throw. Plush rugs covered the floor, and elegant armchairs sat by the marble fireplace, where a small fire burned, casting dancing shadows.
A crystal chandelier hung in the middle, casting a warm light, and antique vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of fragrance.
A 17-year-old boy lay sprawled across the plush bed. His light blond hair was tousled, and his refined features were relaxed as he was in deep sleep, his chest rising and falling with a soft snore. The peaceful silence was broken by a discreet knock on the door.
"Young Master, it's time to rise and welcome the morning,"
A soft voice called from the other side.
Ignoring the gentle knock and the voice softly calling out his name, the 17-year-old boy burrowed deeper into the warmth of his blankets, refusing to get up.
His tousled blond hair was the only visible part of him, peeking out from beneath the plush duvet. After several minutes of persistent knocking and calls, he finally threw off the covers, revealing a pair of sleepy olive green eyes. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he sat up.
"Come in."
He said, his voice husky from sleep.
A tall, muscular man with soft features and medium long hair neatly tied up in a ponytail entered the room with a quiet confidence, dressed in a crisp black suit with silver-buttoned waistcoat, followed by a procession of maids carrying steaming towels, fragrant soap, and other bathing necessities.
He bowed his head elegantly, his eyes casting a brief, respectful glance around the room before focusing on the young master.
"Good morning, young master. I hope you're well-rested. The bath will be ready shortly; the water will be infused with your preferred blend of lavender and chamomile. I had your uniform laid out for you."
The boy stood up in his nightgown, his olive green eyes flashing with irritation as he glared at the butler, Raymond, who stood tall and his face expressionless.
"Get your arse moving, Raymond, or I'll drown you in that tub and claim it was a spa treatment gone wrong."
The boy sneered, his voice low and menacing. Raymond's eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, but his face remained impassive, his silver-buttoned waistcoat glimmering in the soft light of the room.
The boy had a lean, muscular build and was taller than most boys his age, but he still had to look up to meet Raymond's gaze. Raymond nodded curtly, his voice dripping with polite sarcasm,
"Yes, young master. I wouldn't want to be the cause of a tragic accident. The bath will be ready momentarily."
The maids hurriedly went to prepare the warm bath, the sound of gently splashing water filling the air as they added fragrant oils and petals to the steaming tub.
Aerick rose from the bed and settled into one of the plush armchairs, his sleepy olive green eyes squinting slightly as he watched Raymond draw open the velvet curtains, revealing a breathtaking vista of rolling hills and gardens bathed in the warm morning light.
The windows swung open, allowing the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the melodious chirping of birds to flood the room.
Aerick took a deep breath, his expression softening ever so slightly as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. Raymond stood a discreet distance away, Aerick asked his butler,
"Raymond, are the Duke and Duchess already up? Will they be having breakfast with us today?"
His voice was low and smooth, with just a hint of morning huskiness.
Raymond's eyebrow quirked upwards in a subtle gesture, his face otherwise a mask of polite attentiveness.
"Yes, young master. Their Graces are quite busy, but they've made it a point to have breakfast with all their children."
Aerick scoffed, his olive green eyes narrowing slightly.
"How touching. They make time for dinner with all their precious children. Is it not enough?"
He said, his voice dripping with bitterness.
Raymond just stood there quietly, his expression a mask of polite attentiveness. This kind of behavior was normal for everyone else in the mansion; they'd long grown accustomed to Aerick's sharp tongue and sharper wit.
Aerick Valorian, third child and second son of Duke Arden and Duchess Alice Valorian, couldn't help but feel like a shadow in his own family. Unlike his talented siblings, Aerick was noticeably average.
There was a time when everyone thought he might become a dual fighter, wielding both magic and aura for sword fighting, but as time went by, his magic and aura infusion simply... disappeared.
A maid arrived, bowing as she spoke,
"The bath is ready, young master."
The words sliced through the chilly air, and Aerick rose, his movements a blend of lethargy and aristocratic poise.
After immersing himself in the warm bath, he donned his academy uniform: a dark wine coat, matching trousers, a white shirt, and a wine tie with a white stripe. Aerick stood before the mirror, his features sharp and refined, his blond hair smoothly slicked back.
He sighed and set out to join his family for breakfast. He walked through the east wing corridor, windows open to let in the morning breeze, which carried the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and the soft chirping of birds. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the polished floor.
As he approached the dining hall, a servant bowed, opening the doors to reveal a warm, sunlit space. The dining room's high ceiling was adorned with a beautiful artwork, and crystal chandeliers sparkled above the table, set with fine china and crystal glasses.
Aerick entered the spacious bright dining hall with complete silence filling the air. His mother, Duchess Alice, and his siblings were already seated. The Duke was noticeably absent, likely detained by some pressing matter of state.
The maids and assistant butlers stood poised along the walls, their eyes cast downward in respectful attention.
Aerick bowed his head in greeting and took his seat, his movements a blend of aristocratic poise and subtle hint of indifference.
Alice, the Duchess, a powerful mage with her blond hair tied up in a neat bun, sipped her tea, her light blue eyes fixed on the door, waiting for the Duke's arrival.
Arden, the eldest son with his short black hair and cold blue eyes, was a genius academic with a penchant for alchemy.
Lyra, the second child and only daughter of the Duke and Duchess, was the energetic sword fighter with a gentle heart, her piercing grey eyes and long black hair gave her an air of quiet intensity.
Lastly, Cyrin, the cheerful youngest son with blond hair and blue eyes. A magician, whose smile could light up the room.
After a while a dignified handsome man with long black hair tied in ponytail entered the hall. The man had sharp grey eyes and was a renowned sword fighter in the empire. This man was Duke Thane Valorian.
Everyone stood up to greet the Duke and bowed towards him. After the arrival of Duke, the breakfast began.
During breakfast, Duke Thane asked about the progress of his children. Duke turned towards Aerick and asked;
"So, I heard you have exam three weeks later. Are you prepared for them?"
Aerick nodded his head while looking down and he answered;
"Yes sir, I will try my hardest to not disappoint you."
As Aerick was looking down at his food, he heard the Duke's cold voice;
"Disappoint? Your birth itself was a disappointment. Well, go ahead and try your best I suppose."
Aerick abruptly raised his head and looked at the Duke with a hurtful expression. Duke's face was emotionaless and cold as always but seeing the look on Aerick's face Duke was take aback for a moment. Duke Thane inquired;
"What is it? Are you feeling alright?"
Aerick nodded and went back to eating. He was used to hearing these things. As he ate with indifference, Duke Thane frowned, concern etched on his face. The Duke had only spoken out of necessity, he didn't want Aerick to fall behind other but it seemed to have offended Aerick.
The rest of the table exchanged confused glances; Aerick's apathy wasn't new. He had a reputation at school as a rude, rebellious kid. The Duke, Duchess, and siblings had tried everything to connect with him, but Aerick always reacted with indifference, no one knew why he acted like this.