Chapter 23: A new beginning
The commoners awakening
The sun shone brightly over the estate, bathing the grounds in a warm golden light. A light breeze carried the scent of dew-kissed grass, blending with the faint remnants of smoke from the previous night's destruction. It was a new day—one that signified a fresh beginning, yet traces of the past still lingered like an unshaken shadow.
Elysia had just finished tending to the morning affairs when the rhythmic clatter of hooves against stone reached her ears. She instinctively turned towards the estate's entrance, her sharp gaze locking onto the approaching carriage.
Her expression remained neutral, but when the sigil adorning the side of the carriage became clear, a flicker of realization crossed her face.
A radiant peacock, its tail unfurled in cosmic splendor, gleamed under the sunlight. The emblem of Atelier Aurevellis—a house known for its extravagance and mystique—stood boldly against the polished wood. Feathers, arranged in a deliberate yet ostentatious display, adorned the carriage, making it appear almost otherworldly.
"So, it has arrived…" she thought, her gaze shifting to the second carriage trailing closely behind.
Before she could turn to call for Sylvara and Kitsaro, the door of the leading carriage swung open with a casual yet elegant motion.
A familiar figure emerged, dressed in iridescent robes that shimmered in the sunlight, their hues shifting between deep blues and vibrant violets.
His hair caught the light, framing his refined, almost otherworldly features.
Cassian Aurevellis had arrived.
Elysia blinked, momentarily taken aback.
She had expected the carriage, but not the man himself.
Cassian stepped down, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, his posture relaxed, yet regal in a way only he could manage.
Elysia swiftly composed herself and bowed with practiced grace.
"Lord Aurevellis," she greeted, her voice as respectful as ever.
Cassian let out a soft chuckle. "No need for such formality, dear Elysia. But I must say…" His gaze swept over the entrance of the estate, his smirk morphing into an exaggerated expression of horror.
The once-pristine grounds bore signs of the previous conflict—scattered debris, broken stone, and scorched patches of earth painted a chaotic scene.
Cassian clutched his chest dramatically. "Good heavens! What ghastly apocalypse has transpired here?" He let out a theatrical gasp, his eyes glinting with amusement as he feigned distress.
A voice, calm and unimpressed, cut through his performance.
"If you're done gawking, then stop acting as if you're here to be welcomed," Sylvara said coolly, stepping out from behind Elysia. Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "You're here to take us away, like a nice and obedient Cassian." She smirked.
Cassian gasped, hand still over his chest. "Obedient? Oh, Sylvara, how you wound me!" He sighed dramatically before quirking a brow. "Wait… don't tell me you and dear Zephiron had a lover's quarrel before your departure?"
Before Sylvara could respond, a small figure rushed past Elysia with a burst of energy.
"Mom won the duel!" Kitsaro declared excitedly, his eyes sparkling as he ran up to Cassian. "Mom and Dad had a duel before she left! And Mom won! It was so cool!"
Cassian blinked. Then, with a slow grin, he turned to Sylvara. "My, my… I would've paid good money to see that."
Sylvara merely smirked.
Kitsaro, still bouncing with excitement, grabbed Cassian's sleeve. "Are you here to take us to our new house?" he asked eagerly.
Cassian chuckled, kneeling slightly to ruffle Kitsaro's silver hair. "You, my dear nephew, are very much in luck," he declared. "I've personally prepared an estate on the west side of the city—one of the biggest, of course. Safe, spacious, and designed to accommodate both of you perfectly."
He placed a hand on his hip and gave an exaggerated wink. "Because I, my dear Kitsaro, am a fantastic uncle."
Kitsaro giggled. "You're especially fantastic if there's delicious food waiting for us there!"
Cassian let out a laugh. "Well, I did make sure the kitchens are fully stocked… so I suppose I am the best uncle, aren't I?"
Turning to Elysia, he gave a short nod. "Have Sylvara's belongings placed in the second carriage. We leave shortly."
Elysia bowed. "As you wish, Lord Aurevellis."
With swift efficiency, Elysia and the estate staff moved to gather Sylvara's things. It didn't take long—she had already packed most of what she intended to take with her. The rest of the estate, once under House Vaelthyr's banner, would be left behind.
Soon enough, the carriages were ready.
Cassian extended an arm with exaggerated courtesy. "Shall we depart, my dear exile?" he teased.
Sylvara rolled her eyes but stepped forward, Kitsaro climbing in eagerly after her. Cassian followed, settling comfortably across from them as the carriage doors closed.
With a gentle lurch, the journey began.
~~~~~~~
The rhythmic clatter of hooves against the paved roads filled the air as the grand carriages moved through the city's bustling streets. Kitsaro pressed his face eagerly against the window, his silver eyes wide with curiosity.
The sights before him were unlike anything he had seen in his short life. When he first arrived in the city, he had been confined within the noble compounds of House Vaelthyr. But now, for the first time, he was truly seeing the heart of the capital.
The streets were alive with energy. Merchants stood outside their stalls, shouting prices and wares, while nobles dressed in elegant attire strolled about, accompanied by their attendants. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine from nearby taverns.
A group of children ran through the streets, laughing as they weaved through the crowd. Kitsaro's gaze followed them with fascination.
"They look like they're having fun," he murmured.
Cassian, lounging comfortably on the seat opposite him, smirked. "That, my dear Kitsaro, is what freedom looks like."
Kitsaro tilted his head. "Freedom?"
Sylvara, who sat beside him, glanced out the window with a knowing look. "Those children aren't bound by noble duties or expectations. They can run, play, and grow however they like."
Cassian chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. "Unlike us, little one. We nobles are born with chains—chains of duty, status, and politics."
Kitsaro frowned. "But you don't look like you're wearing chains, Uncle Cassian."
Cassian let out a delighted laugh. "That's because I've learned how to wear them stylishly." He flicked a shimmering sleeve for emphasis. "The trick, Kitsaro, is making everyone believe you're free, even when you're not."
Kitsaro pondered.
As the carriage rolled on, they passed an extravagant estate with towering gates adorned with gold filigree. Kitsaro caught sight of a noblewoman stepping out of a carriage, her gown trailing behind her like flowing water.
"Who lives there?" he asked.
Cassian followed his gaze and scoffed. "That, my dear nephew, belongs to House Vermillion. Arrogant peacocks who think themselves superior simply because their ancestors once dined with the royal family."
Sylvara smirked. "And yet, your emblem is quite literally a peacock, Cassian."
Cassian gasped, hand over his chest in mock offense. "How dare you, Sylvara? My peacock is a celestial masterpiece, not a pompous display of wealth!"
Kitsaro giggled at their banter.
He turned to Cassian, eyes gleaming. "Uncle Cassian, you said the nobles wear chains, but I saw all kinds of people in the city. Are they different from us?"
Cassian chuckled, running a hand through his shimmering hair. "Ah, now that's a good question, my dear nephew. The answer lies in blood."
Kitsaro tilted his head. "Blood?"
Cassian smirked. "Yes. You see, the nobility hold power not just through wealth or status, but through our bloodlines—the Beasts that slumber within us. Every noble house has a lineage tied to a Divine or Primal Beast, granting them abilities beyond what ordinary men can possess."
"What about the commoners?" he asked. "Do they have Beasts in their blood too?"
Cassian and Sylvara exchanged glances.
"It is rare," Sylvara admitted, "but not impossible. Sometimes, remnants of ancient bloodlines linger among commoners, producing hybrids—children born with traces of Beast heritage, but not enough to be considered noble."
Cassian leaned back against the carriage. "Some hybrids are nothing more than anomalies—strange eyes, sharper senses, perhaps a touch of magic. But others… well, they can be quite powerful."
Kitsaro's mind raced. "Like who?"
Cassian chuckled. "There was once a commoner with the blood of a Duskveil Panther. He could blend into the shadows, his presence slipping away like mist. They said he could walk unseen, his steps utterly silent, even in the heart of a crowded hall. He became an assassin of great renown before the nobles decided he was too dangerous to be left alive."
Sylvara nodded. "And then there was the girl from the slums who carried the diluted blood of a Stormhawk. She could call the winds to her aid, though she was never trained to harness it properly."
Kitsaro frowned. "If they're strong, why aren't they nobles?"
Cassian let out a slow, knowing sigh. "Ah, my dear nephew, that is where the chains of nobility tighten. Bloodlines must be recognized, documented, and traced back to ancient origins. A hybrid, no matter how powerful, is seen as an anomaly rather than an heir."
Sylvara's voice was colder. "And most noble houses would rather eliminate an anomaly than risk them disrupting the established order."
Kitsaro fell silent.
For the first time, he truly understood the divide between nobles and commoners. It wasn't just about wealth—it was about power, blood, and the fear of losing control.
Then a thought came to him. "How do they go through the process of awakening then? Just like my brother's?" Even if he already knew why as this was explained in the original book of this world, he still wanted to know how bad it was.
Cassian's eyes twinkled as he saw the question forming in Kitsaro's mind. "Ah, yes, you're wondering how some commoners awaken their bloodlines without going through the traditional awakening process, like nobles do." He leaned forward, his tone shifting to something more serious. "You see, noble families have long had access to a carefully curated process—rituals, ceremonies, and the resources to guide their bloodlines to awaken when the time is right. But commoners…" He trailed off, a soft chuckle escaping him. "They don't have such luxuries."
Sylvara picked up the thread. "In the case of commoners, the awakening tends to be more… raw. It isn't orchestrated like the noble rites, where every step is controlled. Instead, it's often the result of extreme emotional distress, physical trauma, or, in some cases, sheer desperation." She glanced at Kitsaro, her gaze heavy with unspoken meaning. "It's not pretty, nor is it always successful."
Kitsaro's brow furrowed. "So, it's not a clear-cut thing, like in noble houses?"
"Exactly," Cassian replied. "No ceremonies, no rituals. The bloodline simply bursts to the surface when it's triggered. And because it's uncontrolled, it can have dangerous consequences. Many commoners die during their awakening process.
Sylvara leaned back in her seat. "It's a reminder of how fragile things can be outside the walls of nobility. The power is there, latent, but it's chaotic and volatile. The commoners don't have the resources or the stability to guide it."
Kitsaro's mind raced. It's really a brutal reality. The nobles were born into privilege, yes, but commoners had their own kind of raw strength—a power forged in adversity, and one that could awaken with brutal force when the time came. The thought left him both in awe and a little fearful of the potential chaos lying just beneath the surface of the common folk.
The carriage continued down the winding streets, passing through different districts. Kitsaro took in every detail—the towering spires of noble houses, the bustling marketplaces, and even the narrow alleyways where commoners gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing over shared meals.
"Mother," Kitsaro said suddenly, "will I be able to go outside more now?"
Sylvara turned to him, her gaze thoughtful. "Perhaps."
Cassian leaned in with a sly grin. "Oh? Are you saying you might actually let the boy experience the world outside noble walls?"
Sylvara's lips curled slightly. "He needs to understand both the gilded halls of nobility and the streets beneath them."
Cassian nodded approvingly. "Wise words. Knowing only one world makes a person weak."
Kitsaro listened intently. He had spent his life within the controlled environment of House Vaelthyr, always watched, always restricted. But now…
"I want to see more," he declared. "I want to learn more, too."
Cassian chuckled. "Then you shall. Consider it an adventure, my dear nephew. And who better to guide you than your absolutely dashing and brilliant uncle?"
Sylvara rolled her eyes, but Kitsaro grinned.
The cityscape soon began to shift. The densely packed streets gave way to broader roads, lined with tall, ancient trees. The noise of the city faded, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds.
Kitsaro watched as the buildings thinned, replaced by elegant manors surrounded by vast, well-kept gardens. The air smelled fresher here, less tainted by the smoke and sweat of the bustling districts.
"Where are we now?" he asked.
Cassian stretched lazily. "The western district. This area is reserved for estates of high-ranking nobles—those who prefer a bit of peace away from the chaos of the capital."
Kitsaro's eyes gleamed as he took in the vast landscapes and beautifully designed estates.
Then, in the distance, a grand set of wrought-iron gates came into view.
Cassian sat up straighter, a smug grin on his face. "Ah, here we are. Welcome to your new home."
The gates opened as their carriage approached, revealing a breathtaking estate beyond.
Kitsaro's breath hitched.
It was enormous—far grander than their old estate at House Vaelthyr. A majestic mansion of white stone stood at the center, its intricate silver detailing gleaming under the sunlight. Expansive gardens stretched across the land, filled with vibrant flowers, towering trees, and even a small lake that reflected the clear blue sky.
The carriage came to a smooth stop at the entrance. Servants dressed in pristine uniforms stood in formation, bowing as the doors opened.
Sylvara stepped out first, her sharp gaze sweeping over the estate as if assessing its worth.
Kitsaro followed, his small boots landing softly on the polished stone pathway. He turned in circles, trying to take in everything at once.
"It's huge!" he breathed.
Cassian stepped out last, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "Only the best for my dear Sylvara and Kitsaro." He gestured grandly. "Well? What do you think?"
Sylvara hummed. "It'll do."
Cassian feigned offense. "It'll do?! Woman, I handpicked every detail to suit your needs, and you tell me 'it'll do'?"
Sylvara smirked. "Would you prefer I shower you with praise?"
Cassian sighed dramatically. "It would be nice every once in a while."
Kitsaro ignored their banter, still lost in awe.
"This is where we'll live now?" he asked softly.
Sylvara placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Yes."
Kitsaro turned to her, his eyes shimmering with something new—excitement, hope.
"A new beginning," he whispered.
As the grand doors of the mansion opened, welcoming them into their future, Kitsaro stepped forward, eager to explore the life that awaited him beyond the gilded cage of his past.