In the mystical realm of Ayealon, a peculiar custom known as the Midnight Mandate governs the handling of internal affairs. For magicians, these affairs take shape in various trials—challenges undertaken by young spell casters to prove their worth, duels between the offended and the offender, and, at times, a formal court complete with judge and jury.
Families, each with their unique approach to managing internal matters, find themselves facing a quandary when a member commits an offense so severe that a conventional trial falls short, considering the potential repercussions on the family's reputation.
This dilemma paves the way for the enigmatic Midnight Mandate, a tradition shrouded in secrecy. Though many are unaware of what occurs in this meeting, whispers of the tradition's details inevitably seep beyond the confines of the family's inner circle. Those who find themselves facing the mystical judgment of this secret court are distinguished by the receipt of a charcoal letter, sealed with the unique emblem of the family.
Abel seldom walked the halls of the manor at night, but tonight was a special occasion. The poem's words lingered like a haunting melody, each line a whisper from the unseen forces that governed the Midnight Mandate.
"Where shadows dance in the veiled night's attire,
In the hush of midnight, by soft moonlight's lyre."
The poem drew Abel to the Serene Halls, a stretch of corridors where the melody of a lyre can be heard at all times of day. As the night draped the estate in shadows, the Serene Halls underwent a mesmerizing transformation. It became a dynamic canvas where shadows pirouetted and waltzed, weaving tales of epochs long forgotten. Despite the dazzling display before him, Abel wore a frown. This was his mother's favorite place to be in the Kaid manor.
Why would the poem speak of this place?
Abel ventured further into the halls. In the spectral ballet, a secluded section at the far end remained untouched by the dance of shadows. Intrigued, Abel pressed his palm against the unyielding wall, revealing a concealed entrance that beckoned him into the clandestine realms hidden within the Kaid residence.
Abel sensed the hush of midnight settling around him as he moved through the dimly lit passageways. Ethereal patterns emanated in rhythm to the melody of the moonlight lyre, illuminating his path.
As Abel continued his journey, the verses of the poem guided him toward the underground recesses of the Kaid manor. Darkened pathways winding beneath the edifice led him to a concealed entrance, and it was here that he heard voices beyond a heavy door. Whispers, like faint echoes from the mystical realm, beckoned him to the threshold of secrets hidden beneath the surface.
"In realms unseen, where darkened pathways wind,
A mandate whispered, in the hallowed midnight's bind."
The whispers grew in volume as Abel traveled deeper within the manor. Beneath the Kaid manor's ancient stone walls, the corridors seemed to breathe with a life of their own, responding to the rhythm of the verses guiding Abel's steps.
The underground area of the Kaid manor, rich with the potent currents of magic, unfolded before Abel like a tapestry woven with delicate threads. Anticipating his arrival, the rooms transformed with each step, shifting and reshaping themselves until he found himself on a narrow pathway. The air vibrated with an unseen energy, and the walls pulsed with a soft luminescence, as if the very essence of the Midnight Mandate thrived in the hidden recesses.
As Abel continued along the narrow path, the surroundings continued to transform, converging into a singular doorway standing sentinel before him. The room beyond the door seemed to pulse with a vibrant, magical aura, and the voices on the other side grew clearer, revealing a heated discussion within.
"Please, Father!" shouted Cain from beyond the door.
Abel pressed his ear against the door, attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation.
Jairo Kaid's resonant voice echoed with authority. "Our lineage has forever been rooted in tradition, and tradition dictates our approach to those who fail the family"
Emelina Kaid's voice quivered as she pleaded, "But death, Jairo? Must we go to such lengths? He is our son."
Cain interjected with conviction, "We are not slaves to tradition! The way of the Kaid family is the way of water. It bends and shifts courses. Hiding behind the rules set by our ancestors is cowardly and violates everything we stand for."
Abel's heart ached, hearing his mother's and brother's plea for mercy. Abel stepped back from the door, noticing the frost creeping at its edges.
Jairo Kaid's voice bellowed from beyond the door. "You forget your place. You believe the essence of water is freedom, mutability, serene. What do you say then about a wall of ice and a river—both manifestations of water, yet vastly different in their potential?"
No response could be heard from Cain.
The door continued to freeze, now reaching past the edges and inching towards the center.
"You seem to think you've been the only genius in the history of Kaid. From one genius to another, let me demonstrate the different applications of water."
"No!" shouted Abel's mother.
The door swung open, directing everyone's attention to the intruder.
As Abel stepped into the room, Cain and Emelina Kaid's gaze flickered toward him, their expressions filled with a mixture of sorrow and tension. Ice could be found throughout the room, along with shards of jagged ice floating around Jairo Kaid. The patriarch, having risen briefly, dissipated the ice before resuming his seat.
The room was dimly lit, and the walls, constructed of ancient stone, seemed to absorb the very essence of the chamber's secrets. Enchanted sconces emitted a soft, mystical glow, casting intricate patterns upon the surfaces. The atmosphere was heavy, laden with the weight of tradition and judgment. Jairo Kaid, seated at the center of a grand U-shaped table, surveyed Abel before looking back down at the documents before him. Emelina Kaid and his brother, Cain Kaid, sat on opposite sides of the patriarch.
An elegant quill and a teacup sat beside the documents, reserved for the patriarch's deliberations. He proceeded with his tasks, seemingly unaware of anyone else's presence in the room. The shape of the table made it clear there was no seat for Abel, so the young man could only stand before his family.
Abel looked at each of his family members, only to find that none were so much as looking his way.
"Abel Kaid" declared Jairo Kaid from his seat at the head of the table.
"You stand before this tribunal, accused of failing to manifest an elemental bond and irreparably damaging the reputation of this family. The consequence of an act that threatens the power of the direct family is death. Defend yourself, as tradition dictates,"
Abel, desperation in his eyes, began, "Father, I—"
Cain, seizing the moment, interrupted, "Please, Father. Instead of death, please sentence him to exile. You've seen how others view him. There are stories, rumors. He would be safer away from here."
Jairo Kaid's attention returned to the parchments in front of him, a quill poised for judgment.
Sensing the mounting unease, Cain ventured, "Father, if word spreads that we eliminate Kaid family members, our reputation will plummet. It could provide our enemies with an advantage—"
Jairo Kaid chuckled, swiftly cutting off Cain.
"You can do better than that. Our enemies won't act merely because we dispose of one member."
Cain bit his lip, his unspoken concerns lingering beneath the surface.
Abel struggled once more to find his voice. "Father, my time in the library has been promising. Recently, I came across a book titled 'The Intricacies of Bond Formation,' delving into the essence of the five elements. With this newfound knowledge, I ask you to grant me another chance—"
Emelina Kaid gently raised her hand, signaling Abel to halt.
Yet, desperation clung to Abel like a persistent shadow. "Father, the library is my sanctuary, and this book could hold the key. Please, consider giving me a—"
"Abel, enough." commanded not the patriarch, but his mother. "Please."
Emelina Kaid turned to her husband, her smile a familiar fixture. "My dear, before you make the decision, think back to the birth of our children. Though you were not with me in the room, your affection for them was palpable. Recall the first time their eyes met yours, their initial steps into the world, the echoes of their laughter—the promise of a future we once dreamed for them."
The matriarch continued. "As the head of the Kaid family, our son stands before you, awaiting a sentence that could seal his fate. Is death the future you dreamed of for our son? Can you not find it in your heart to reconsider?"
Jairo Kaid raised his cup, taking a sip without casting a glance at either his son or wife.
"'Dear.' When was the last time you addressed me with such familiarity?"
The matriarch, undoubtedly aware of the answer to this straightforward question, opted for silence.
The patriarch stared into the tea, reluctantly taking another sip before sighing.
Jairo Kaid scratched his head, setting the tea cup down beside his documents.
"Abel Kaid, you have been charged with bringing irreparable damage to the direct family. No library will help you now. As a direct descendant of the most powerful water magicians in Ayealon, this is infinitely worse than failing to form a bond with the water element. You are not even a tool we can use. Do you have anything to contradict this?" asked his father.
Abel struggled to find the words. "No, but 'The Intric-'"
"Then the decision has been made."
Anticipating his father's judgment, Abel's heart sank. Jairo Kaid gestured with a sweeping motion of his hand, as though dismissing a pest. "Abel Kaid, from this moment onward, you are cast out from this family and severed from the Kaid lineage."
"You shall have no claim to our name, our legacy, or our protection."