Rise of the Archon

It took us three days to reach our next destination, time I spent well in my opinion. I divided my efforts between reading and studying, training my magic, and sparring. What occupied at least a few hours a night, however, were my attempts at learning how to act as a noble.

The family Flynn was visiting was the Graythorns, an earldom famed for not only their disproportionate strength and influence, but also their size. The current head of the family alone had five children, and both of her brothers had four of their own. What's more, they followed in the Sion's footsteps, preferring to train their members privately rather than sending them for a formal education.

However, according to Flynn, they had far less success at this than his family. The Graythorns had always favored quantity over quality, and this was demonstrated in their newest members, who fell far short of Sion's lofty standards.

Flynn was familiar with their three youngest members, a trio who preferred lazing about and gossiping over practicing their spellcraft. I got the feeling that he looked down on them, pitying their paltry talents, and truthfully, I agreed with that sentiment. Magic was too great a gift to let waste and rot like spoiled meat.

"Is there anything else I should know about them?" I asked the night before we were set to arrive.

Flynn pursed his lips. "Hmm...yes, I suppose there is. Earl Graythorn hates commoners. I doubt we'll meet her during this visit, as she is likely away on business, but if we do...well, let me do the talking. More importantly, that attitude has spread to the younger generation."

"You're bringing me to a family who will despise me?" I asked, shaking my head. "Fantastic."

"In my defense, most nobles are going to hate you. You're an upstart in their eyes. Best to learn to deal with it now."

"Is that your plan, then?" I asked. "To teach me how to be a noble?"

Flynn's smile turned exhausted, and he rolled his eyes, "No, my 'plan' is to make you some friends. As I said, most nobles will hate you. I doubt that will ever change, but if we can ingratiate you with a few people around our age, all the better."

His logic made sense, and I nodded. After a second, Flynn leaned forward and continued, "Besides, you're my brother and, I hope, a friend. I'm not going to leave you in the cart like some trained pet, now am I?"

I stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed and nodded.

"If you insist," I said, and that was the end of it.

We reached the Graythorn estate around midday, and I had to admit it struck an impressive picture.

Their lands were not exceptionally vast, but they had spared no expense on their home. Three stories tall, it was the picture of a noble's mansion, with twin adjoining wings on either side more than tripling its apparent size.

Vines curled up and along the sides of the building, bordering towering crystalline windows. Through these, I could see the brightly lit interior of the building and caught glimpses of servants bustling about as we approached. I wondered idly what kind of magic was needed to guide plants with such control, as I had little doubt they were cultivated through arcane rather than mundane means.

We stopped by the front door, and Flynn stepped out with effortless grace. I followed him a second later, my steps light as a feather thanks to my strengthened body, though I felt decidedly less comfortable.

Flynn had insisted that we change into something more formal, befitting our social standings. He'd selected a suit of whites and golds, with darker pants and boots completing the outfit. I had chosen something more subtle, a mixture of black and gray with hints of silver at Flynn's suggestion.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The light mage practically glided to the main entrance, where a servant, maybe ten years our senior, awaited. I trailed, reaching out with my senses and seeking out any hint of the magic that underpinned the Graythorn's home.

"Good evening, my lord," the servant said, bowing at his waist before straightening. "We were so pleased to receive your message."

"You are?" Flynn affected a surprised expression, "I was worried the surprise might prove insulting."

"Perish the thought, my lord," the servant replied, sounding positively contrite.

Flynn looked past the man and towards the mansion. "I believe they're expecting us, so..."

"Of course. Please follow me, my lord."

The servant pointedly didn't acknowledge me before the briefest flicker of his eyes. I didn't blame him, as I had no doubt my entire demeanor screamed discomfort with the whole situation.

He led us through the main entrance of the mansion, through a foyer, and down one of the wings. We passed portraits of dead ancestors, towering bits of artwork, and countless rooms before we finally came to a stop at a wide set of double doors.

The man stepped forward, knocked twice, then paused before opening the doors. He stepped to one side, then gestured grandly for us to enter. Flynn slipped past him, but as I went to follow, the Graythorn's servant moved to block me.

"My deepest apologies, but I'm afraid I'm under strict instructions that only young lord Sion has been invited to—"

"Ah," Flynn made a sound as if he'd forgotten something. He turned to face us. "So, you didn't receive my message, then?"

"My lord?" the servant tilted his head. "Forgiveness, but we did. Yesterday, in fact."

"I assumed you had, considering how prepared you seem, but I clearly specified that the young Sion lords would be visiting. Plural, you see?"

The servant blinked a few times, and I almost enjoyed the confusion in his eyes. "I...am afraid I don't understand, my lord. As I understand it, you are the only young lord Sion."

"I was up until..." Sion held up a few fingers, then shrugged. "Several weeks ago. Now, I'd ask that you step aside and let my newest brother pass."

The servant's eyes darted between us, and I saw how utterly lost he was at the whole situation. After a long pause and no small degree of internal struggle, the man stepped aside, bowing his head low.

"My deepest apologies, lord Sion," the man said, and I realized after a moment that he was directing that to me.

"Not a problem," I replied lamely, nodding once as I walked past the man.

The room past those doors was large and comfortable, filled with a handful of massive chairs and couches. A fireplaced roared along one wall, flanked by windows leading out to a garden of multi-colored flowers that glowed softly in the midday light.

Four nobles were sprawled across the various seats. I could tell at a glance that they were related thanks to their matching auburn hair, pale skin, and narrow features. Two in particular looked almost identical, but I had no doubt that they were all at least cousins, if not siblings.

All four looked over at us as we entered the room, and one practically jumped from her seat. I took her in as she hurried across to meet us halfway.

She was short, with her hair tied back into an intricate braid to reveal a pretty face. I estimated that she was around our age, and she wore a well-fitting dress that showed off her untrained physique.

Not only was her build unathletic, but her aura was even weaker. The woman was a Mist, and not a particularly impressive one at that. Wood mana leaked from her body carelessly, precious energy just wasted as if it were worthless. I was almost insulted.

The woman pulled up short, a dazzling smile on her face as she came within maybe five feet of us.

"Flynn, it's so good to see you again," she said, shifting her feet in place as she stared at my adopted brother.

"Kathryn," Flynn replied, matching her smile. "You as well. Thank you for accepting my invitation."

"Accept?" another of the Graythorns said, coming closer. "She hasn't been able to sit still since we got your letter."

Kathryn turned to glare at her relative before returning her attention to Flynn. "Please, sit. Your...servant can join us as well, of course."

The noblewoman made to grab Flynn's hand, but he smoothly stepped away from her and closer to me. He chuckled, seemingly not noticing her failed attempt as he clasped my shoulder.

"Actually," Flynn said. "This isn't my servant. Meet the newest member of my household and my adopted brother."

It was my turn to glare at a relative, though at least the Graythorn man had the dignity to look momentarily apologetic. Flynn simply smiled wider, as if the whole thing was a joke.

I suppressed a sigh and turned to the rest of the Graythorns. Instinct nearly pushed me to bow at the waist, but I stopped myself. Adopted or not, I was now the heir to a duchy, which meant I was effectively their social equal. Respect was owed, but not deference.

"My name is Vayne," I said, inclining my head for a moment before adding, "Sion. Vayne Sion."

The four of them looked a mixture of shocked, confused, and scandalized. The oldest of them, a young man in his early twenties with Fog-tier water mana, recovered the fastest.

"Vayne," he said, as if weighing the word. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Two of his relatives repeated the obligatory formalities, though Kathryn looked vaguely irritated. She perked up after a few seconds, seeming to dismiss me from her thoughts as she stepped closer to Flynn.

"Oh, won't you join us?" she asked, trying to grab his arm again. Flynn allowed it, and the young woman almost buzzed as she led him over to the fireplace. I followed after a brief pause, flanked by her silent relatives.

The Graythorns returned to where they had sat before, leaving one chair open and a spot on the couch next to Kathryn. I made for the former, but Flynn somehow had detached himself from the young noblewoman. He seemed to float into the seat, lounging and flashing me a mischievous grin.

I glared at him, then turned to the only available seat beside a very unwelcoming young woman. With one final, internal sigh, I crossed the short gap and sat down for what I expected to be a long, uncomfortable social obligation.

Will the pleasures of being a noble ever cease?