Everything was ordinary. The sun descended upon the horizon, dying the sky bloody red as evening faded into night. Sharp winds scraped across the land, and the moon steadily made its presence clear amidst the cold darkness. Trees swayed against the assaulting gales, and birds chirped noisily from atop tree branches.
At the centre of this all was a great manor, made from stone brick with steep roofs and intersecting windows placed along the walls. Gargoyles lined the roofs; pipes jutted out from their jaws, dripping water occasionally. Surrounding the manor was a wide array or scenery, with a sprawling garden filled with blooming flowers, twisting plants and vibrant bushes that led out from the back of the manor.
To the north and west of the manor was vast yellow farmland, with a small town located just beyond. To the east was an orchard where workers milled about, and to the south was a woodland that spanned for several acres. The land was flat and low-lying, with no hills or mountains in sight, and dark clouds brewed in the sky, threatening a storm.
I gazed upon all of this from my Bedroom window. My eyes drooped with sleepiness as I looked away from the window, back towards the parchment that I had been writing on. The ink in my pen had sunk into the paper, creating a large blotch over the word I had been writing. My handwriting had gradually become messier as I advanced down the page, and eventually came to resemble a scribbled mess. I knew my teacher would never accept this, so I promised to rewrite it tomorrow morning before lessons. With that settled, I scrambled to finish the homework before midnight.
Eventually I heard the bell chime, signalling midnight, and put my pen and ink away. I put my homework to the side and collapsed into my wide double bed. The sheets had never felt so smooth. The mattress had never felt so homely. Within seconds, my eyes were shut, and I entered a deep slumber. And during that slumber, I dreamed a strange dream.
I remember a sea of green, a snake in water, a bloody skull and a man whose flesh rotted to the touch. All of these scenes played vividly in my mind throughout the night, but once I awakened they all seemed to vanish as if they had never happened. Nothing but a bad dream.
Sunlight beamed in through my bedroom window, lighting up my room. The candle on my desk that I had forgotten to put out the previous night had gone out on its own, and the ink on the parchment had long dried up. My mind was foggy and my body begged for more sleep, but despite that I forced myself up and, after remembering my promise, began to rewrite my homework in a neater manner. Albeit, my handwriting was probably still not up to my teacher's standards.
Once that was done, I heard a rap at my bedroom room.
"Who's there?" I called out.
"Young master, it's me," a woman's voice responded. I recognised it, and sighed.
"Come in."
The door swung open with a creak, and a middle-aged women stepped in. She looked to be in her fifties, with black-grey hair, an aging face, and a normal physique. She was dressed in a grey wool dress, and her curly hair was tied up neatly behind her head. This woman was none other than Mrs. Edridge, a servant who had looked after me all throughout my fifteen years of life. I trusted her even more than my own parents. Her husband was apparently a knight under my father, but he died while fighting in the east, leaving Mrs. Edridge all alone. My mother took pity and made her my personal servant, increasing her pay and giving her a place to live.
"Young master, today you have a meeting with your father scheduled for eight o'clock," she said respectfully. Despite having bathed me since I was a baby, she still acted so professionally all the time. But I ignored that fact, and focused on the matter of this meeting.
"A meeting? But father never mentioned it to me," I scratched my head in confusion. It was true- father always told me about those kind of things beforehand.
"I was told to inform you by the Lady Beatrice," Mrs. Edridge explained.
I nodded my head, and thought for a second. Beatrice was my sister who had refused to marry and lived on the estate. She was twenty years old (five years older than me) and treated me the best out of all my siblings. Why would she know about this before me? It didn't rub me right.
"Okay, then can you prepare a bath? And please tell my teacher that I'll be late. I don't want him getting mad again." I shivered after recalling last time.
"Of course, I'll get right to it. The bath will be ready soon."
"Great," I smiled, and sent Mrs. Edridge away, leaving me alone once more in my room. After she was gone, I let out a lengthy sigh and collapsed back into my bed. The silence of my bedroom was something I'd long grown accustomed to- after all, I spent most of my time here. Occasionally I'd hear a servant walking by, or one of the dogs barking outside, but otherwise I'd always be hidden away in my room, reading or studying.
The only times I got out of the manor was when we had visitors, or were visiting. Having a meeting with father was quite rare- if he had something to say to me, he'd say it to my face at dinner, with all my other siblings present. To call for a private meeting meant that it was quite serious.
Perhaps it was about…
Whilst still laying on my bed, I raised my hand and focused. Suddenly, from my fingertips, sparks arose and a flame sprung forth. It was weak, and appeared for only half a second before vanishing, leaving nothing but a few wisps of smoke and a lingering sense of warmth in my body. Ordinary people would gasp at this kind of display, and would worship me as a deity. But to my family, and to the other noblemen, this was nothing.
Magic was an inherited ability that ran deep in one's blood. Legends say that it was first wielded during The Dying Times, when a man named Kingsley begged Agrai to save them, and was blessed with the power to wield mana. He then went on to bless his ten followers with this power, and they went on to end The Dying Times together and ushered in a new era for humanity. Solomon was one of the ten followers, and since I am descended from him I can also wield the power of mana.
Of course, as I had just demonstrated, this power was weak in me, and my future was limited. Magic represented the nobility's power. By not possessing powerful magic, one would be looked down upon by others and treated poorly by all. Even the commoners, who possessed zero magic power, would look down upon you. It was truly one of the worst ways to fall, and it looked like I was going to take that path.
I'd heard chatter amongst my siblings that father was disturbed by my weakness. In the proud Solomon Family, I had no place. I'd long known that one day, my time would come. That one day father would have had enough of me, and remove the waste. High society was about impressions, after all. What would other think if you had a rat clinging to your leg?
The day went on. Mrs. Edridge finished preparing my bath, and so I went to clean myself. Afterwards, I changed into some clean, simple clothes: a white buttoned up shirt, black shorts, white stockings, and black leather shoes. Typical, ordinary clothes. My hair was short and messy, with my fringe falling to around my eyebrows. After a quick brush, I looked somewhat more presentable, and so made my way to see father.
Paintings lined the various corridors. Paintings of my ancestors, their friends, and past kings and heroes of the kingdom. All of these figures were revered and heavily worshipped, for they made our kingdom what it was today. We stood at the top of the world, and none dared to challenge us. After all, god had blessed our lands and our people. We were special.
As I grew closer towards my father's office, my heart beat harder and I felt sweat in my palms. But I reassured myself that it was nothing serious- that it was some dull matter like a gathering of other noble children, or a potential marriage candidate.
It was only then that I noticed a painting on the wall outside my father's office. Was it new, or had it always been there? Depicted was a skull, dyed in blood, held up by a pair of equally bloody hands with no body, and the sun glaring behind it all. I blinked, and stared for a while, before turning towards my father's office and walking towards the wooden double doors.