Grimoire of Cultivation

Chapter 21: Legacy of the Valdenes

In the gallery room of the manor, a space where history was etched into every corner, a somber air lingered. The room, echoing a simple charm with a touch of artistry, was lined with portraits of the Valdene ancestors. Each painting, a vivid recount of their lineage, stood as silent witnesses to the family's storied past. The grandeur of the room, with its high ceilings and ornate tapestries, was softened by the day's muted light, filtering through stained glass windows. This light, casting long, thoughtful shadows, seemed to resonate with the weight of the discussion at hand.

In the dim light of the gallery, Jarek's imposing figure seemed smaller, less imposing. His gaze, typically unwavering, flickered across the ancestral portraits, lingering on faces that resembled his own. Each slow, measured breath seemed to draw in the weight of the room. Beside him, Amara's posture, usually relaxed and inviting, held a rigidness, a subtle tension visible in the set of her shoulders. Her hands, folded in her lap, betrayed a slight tremor. Darius, seated near the window where the light cast long shadows across the gallery, waited anxiously.

As Jarek's voice filled the room, rich with the timbre of both pride and sorrow, Darius found his gaze drawn to the faces in the portraits. "Our family's history, Darius, is steeped in loyalty and honor, stretching back to the Age of Twilight, before the Mage Towers' rise," Jarek stated.

Darius realized his knowledge of Gaia's history, extensive as it was, had a gap – his own family's past. A thought flickered through his mind, 'I've delved so deep into cultivation and Gaia's history, yet I've barely scratched the surface of my own.' His interest wasn't just awakened; it was a hunger for understanding, a need to know the roots from which he had grown.

"Our ancestors served as King's Guard in the first human kingdom, Seladoor. As you know, back then, the different kingdoms were ruled by the true kings and queens, not the tower's. The court magicians of that era were more scholars and herbalists than wielders of true magic." Jarek's voice held a note of disdain as he recounted the last part.

Amara interjected, her voice soft yet firm. "The discovery of Crystals changed everything. These magicians began to wield real power. Small simple spells at first but it was enough."

Jarek's voice took on a somber tone as he delved deeper into their past. "Our ancestors, as knights, were tasked to hunt the beasts for crystals. The hunts were brutal, these were normal men Darius, facing mana beasts, every hunt, injured and fallen brothers. This brutal treatment wore these men down, all of their sweat, their blood, given to the mages," he explained, his expression reflecting the pain of those long-gone days.

"As the mages' power grew, their ambition grew with it. They saw an opportunity, offering a share in their power, tempting the knights with the very magic that could have saved so many of their brothers." His words were laced with a profound sense of betrayal, a loss not just of comrades but of the very essence of their honor.

"Our family's loyalty to the old kings was unwavering, even as the mages' power grew and the world around us changed," he declared, his gaze distant as if reliving the memories.

Amara cut in, moving her hand to rest on her husband's as she spoke. "You know, Darius, it wasn't just stumbling upon mana crystals that changed everything. It was when the magicians were continously successful with their research. That's when the kings and queens united, deciding to build the first Mage Tower, built in our ancestral home, Avalon, the capital city of Seladoor. It was more than just a building, it transformed those magicians into mages of real power." As she spoke, Amara's gaze drifted to the family portraits lining the walls of the gallery room.

Darius listened intently, absorbing every detail. He had always known his family was steeped in history, but these revelations painted a picture far grander and more complex than he had imagined. Darius leaned forward, his young face etched with a serious curiosity.

"The mages, drunk on their new power, sought to overthrow the royal bloodlines," Amara continued. "They promised the knights a share in their power, this regrettably led many, my little wolf, to forsake their oaths."

Jarek's voice, often firm and authoritative, carried a threatening undertone as he delved further into their history. "When the mages rallied enough knights to their cause, they staged a coup. The Valdenes," he paused, his gaze hardening, "we chose to remain true to our king, fighting valiantly to a standoff at the palace walls."

He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of the past. "Our loyalty was unwavering, even as the tide turned against us. In the end, faced with overwhelming odds and out of options to protect our family," a shadow crossed Jarek's face, the weight of that moment evident. "The knights we once stood shoulder to shoulder with, in respect for our shared brotherhood and our bravery, gave us one final chance. It was either join them or witness the fall of our entire lineage. We had no choice but to accept and watch helplessly as our king and his family were taken."

In that confession, Jarek's usual composure was tinged with a deep-seated regret, a result of the burden he carried as the head of the Valdene family.

Darius absorbed his father's words, feeling the weight of centuries of legacy and conflict. The Valdene family's past was a blend of valor and betrayal, a duality that now coursed through his veins, he felt a strange sense of anger and pride, as he followed this family tragedy.

Jarek sighed deeply, "After the mages' ascension, the world changed. Humans began to expand, igniting conflicts with the elder races. This whole time, the knights were never given the power they were promised, they became dogs to their new master's instead."

Amara leaned in, "You see, our conflict with the elder races wasn't just a series of raids. It escalated into a full-scale war, over the years, this lead to a deadlock once every race united against us. The mage's couldn't withstand their innate magic's combined."

She let out a soft sigh, her voice tinged with a blend of wisdom and somberness. "That's when the mages had to finally step up. They realized to win the war, they needed the knights to have more power. So they worked with the knights to develop the Manaforged Knight System. This won the war for us."

Her eyes, usually warm, now held a deeper intensity. "This new system forced the elder races into a final stand, the Battle of Tears. A final confrontation that didn't just reshape the battlefield, it reshaped everything..."

"The creation of the Knight System was the turning point in the war, son," Jarek added. "It gave knights like us the power to stand toe-to-toe with mages. But it was a power that came with a heavy price."

Darius listened with rapt attention, absorbing the revelations about his family's past. While the broad strokes of Gaia's history were familiar, hearing about his ancestors' personal involvement cast events in a new light.

Darius knew about the shift in power dynamics when the mages rose to prominence after discovering mana crystals. He was well-versed in the ensuing conflicts as humans expanded their territories, igniting centuries of war with the elder races. However, his textbooks hadn't conveyed the gut-wrenching choices faced by families like his own - the impossible decision between remaining loyal to their king or accepting the mages' offer of power.

'An army of Werefolke alone would be daunting, but facing every race of Gaia united? Nightmare fuel,' Darius's imagination was alight with war. The sheer scale of such a confrontation, with each race's unique abilities in play, was almost beyond comprehension. 'Our ancestors faced more than just battle; they faced a complete upheaval of the world.'

"The war's end marked the beginning of the Age of Wonders," Amara said, a note of reverence in her voice.

Jarek's expression turned thoughtful, his voice filled with pride, "It was Warwick Valdene, my great-great grandfather, who was the first knight to achieve the 9th Tier," he recounted. "His power was said to be immense, enough to challenge even the Archmagus' that ruled the land. The raw strength and speed he possessed at that level was beyond anyone."

Jarek's voice took on a tone of admiration as he continued. "With the power he attained, Warwick founded the Penitent Knights Union, constructing the knights new stronghold within a chaotic mana region, the field of battle for the Battle of tears, our ancestral home, Avalon. The Union was a bold statement to those mages, symbolizing our family's enduring courage and determination in the face of adversity. It also stood as a reminder of the dishonor all of our ancestors showed when they betrayed their kings and queens."

He paused, gazing out across the estate grounds with a faraway look. "Forming the Knights Union was Warwick's way of redeeming that past dishonor and creating a new path of integrity for our lineage. Thanks to his achievements, our family commanded immense respect, possessing a power that could contend with even the strongest houses." Jarek's voice swelled with pride for his ancestor's accomplishments so long ago.

Darius's eyes widened at the mention of Warwick Valdene, even he knew of the legend within their family lore. "Warwick Valdene," he murmured, a mixture of awe and curiosity in his tone.

Jarek nodded solemnly. "Warwick understood that power unchecked could lead to tyranny. The Penitent Knights Union was our family's way of maintaining the balance, ensuring that knights would always have a place in this world, not just as subordinates to the mages but as equals."

Amara stood, her gaze meeting Darius's, "Our family has always stood for honor and duty, Darius. Even when it meant standing against the tide. We've carried the weight of these choices for generations." She moved towards the room's far side, her hand clasping her husband's shoulder for a moment, aware of the challenge this topic posed for him.

Haku lay curled up at Darius's feet, the fox's rhythmic breathing the only sound breaking the pensive silence that had fallen over the gallery room. The occasional flick of his ear or shuffle of his paws punctuated his slumber, drawing a faint smile from Darius as he observed his loyal companion.

At the other end of the room, Amara gracefully poured tea into three ornate cups arranged on a silver tray. The gentle clink of porcelain and the soothing aroma of citrus filled the air, a welcome respite from the weighty discussion. Amara's gaze lingered on her husband and son, her heart swelling with love and concern. With practiced poise, she lifted the tray and made her way over to where they were seated.

"Have some tea," Amara said, her voice warm yet reserved. She handed a cup first to Jarek, then Darius, before taking one for herself. The tea's warmth seeped into Darius's hands as he accepted it with a murmur of "thank you."

Jarek took a slow sip of the tea, savoring the subtle sweetness. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease ever so slightly as the tea's calming effect took hold. Amara settled gracefully into a high-backed chair beside her husband, the hem of her dress pooling at her feet. She waited patiently for Jarek or Darius to speak.

Putting down his cup, Jarek continued, "Over time, the once-noble houses of the knights began to dwindle," Jarek explained with a distant gaze. "Few could ascend to higher echelons and extend their longevity. New noble families arose, ushering in new ideals that replaced the old bloodlines."

"This change caused a split within the Union. The younger members didn't feel burdened by the remorse of earlier times. They wanted freedom and power, both political and magical, for their own benefit."

Jarek's expression turned grim. "This internal strife weakened our family's standing. Most knights sought change, aligning more with the mages' ambitions than Warwick's sense of duty and honor. The mages have no shame, son, their only care is their own power, honor be damned. Our adherence to Warwick's ideals only deepened the resentment towards us."

"Four centuries ago, Warwick vanished," Jarek continued, his voice laced with a hint of sorrow. "His disappearance left a void. Without his presence, our family quickly faced open hostility."

"The only reason we've survived this long," Jarek added bitterly, "is the fear of Warwick's potential return. But anyone from our family who gains prominence... they meet untimely ends. It's a curse that has haunted us for generations."

Jarek picked up his cup and took a slow, steady sip of his tea, Darius could tell his father was gathering his thoughts before he continued. "There's more that you must know, Darius," he began, his tone solemn.

Darius glanced between his parents, his brow furrowing slightly. "Is it about me?"

Jarek set his teacup down with a soft clink. "When you failed your assessment at the Mage Tower those years ago, we knew that a difficult path lay before us. One that could put you in grave danger."

Confusion flickered across Darius's face. "I don't understand. Plenty of children fail their assessments. Why would that make things so much worse for me?"

Amara reached out and rested a gentle hand on Darius's arm. "Because you're a Valdene, my dear," she said softly. "Our family has many enemies, as your father explained. Powerful mages who would do anything to see our lineage ended."

She took a steadying breath before continuing. "For centuries, the only thing that has kept our rivals at bay was the possibility that Warwick could return. But this only limited their actions, the potential that one of our blood could attain such power again was too great a threat for them to not move against us."

Jarek leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Darius with an intensity that was almost palpable. "There's one more thing you must understand, my son. One final truth that underpins everything."

He paused, as if steeling himself before continuing. "The unwritten rules, the fragile boundaries that have protected our family all these years...they only apply to those of us born as mages or knights."

Darius's brow furrowed, realization written across his young face.

Jarek let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as if a weight had settled upon them. "You see, Darius? You were born without any magical abilities. No aura, no elemental affinity. In the eyes of our rivals, you're a dud."

The word seemed to hang in the air between them. Dud. Amara flinched almost imperceptibly at the term.

"To them, you're not a Valdene," Jarek continued, his voice thick with emotion. "You're just another commoner child. One whose life means nothing to the great houses."

Darius paled, the implications of his father's words hitting him with chilling clarity. For all his knowledge, his prodigious intellect and singular determination, without magic he was supposedly powerless. Vulnerable in their enemies eyes.

Jarek reached out and grasped Darius's shoulder firmly, as if to steady him. "Even if Warwick himself returned, he could not fault them for the death of a non magic child. As far as the mages are concerned, you're expendable."

Darius went very still, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He had always known his lack of magic set him apart, made him an anomaly among his magical kin. But he hadn't realized the extent to which it endangered his personal safety.

Darius mulled over his father's revelation, the gears in his mind visibly turning. 'Warwick... the catalyst of our family's plight. His defiance against the mages wasn't just bold, it was a direct challenge, a slap to their authority.' He thought deeply, his expression morphing into one his parents knew well - the look of intense concentration he wore when lost in the depths of study. Recognizing this, Jarek and Amara exchanged a glance, giving him the silent space he needed to process.

'Well none of this alters anything. I have no aura, I'm confident there could be other ways for my talents to be spotted but I at least have that. I will keep cultivating, one day I can venture out without fear, but for now at least I carry part of the burden.' Darius's face abruptly lost its dazed appearance and was replaced by a look of resolve.

"Father, I understand now. You planned to send me away after the test. That's why you became distant, to steel yourself." His face showed neither anger nor sadness, he spoke in a factual tone, his father's face went pale and his eyes for the first time in Darius's memory held a sense of shame. "It was the only thing you could do to keep me safe."

Jarek's voice, usually a bastion of strength, wavered as he began, "Darius, we..." He paused, struggling to continue. His eyes, typically so sure and steadfast, now betrayed an inner turmoil as they met his son's. "I, had plans... to fake your death," he confessed, the words seeming to weigh on his very soul. "To send you away, to some forgotten village, where you could live... quietly, safely." His grip tightened on his knee, a silent battle raging within him.

Darius watched his father, the unyielding knight, now grappling with an unseen adversary - his own conscience. Jarek's gaze, normally so piercing, now flickered with a mix of shame and resolve. "I've lived a life I have been proud of, Darius. But that day, the day when you brought Haku home," he paused, his voice thick with emotion, "seeing you, so powerless yet so determined to save a life... I felt a shame I've never known, mixed with an overwhelming pride. It was that moment Darius, when I decided to cancel the plans I had set for you."

Beside him, Amara sat in silent support, her hand clasping Jarek's. Her eyes, usually so bright and commanding, now mirrored her husband's anguish, her gaze fixed on Darius, reflecting a mother's shared heartache.

Darius's voice, steady and firm, carried a power that transcended mere words. "Father, Mother, my path may be unproven, yet of this I am certain: I shall rise and stand at the pinnacle of this world."

"Through my technique, I will ascend to heights unimagined, mastering the arcane arts and pushing beyond the limits of the knights and the mages. Never again will the Valdenes live in fear, never again will we bow and scrape before those who deem themselves our betters."

The unwavering resolve in his bold statement, raw and unyielding, seemed to breathe life and renewed vigor back into Jarek and Amara's weary gaze. In their son's eyes, they saw the smoldering embers of hope reignite into a brilliant flame, burning away the gloom of despair that had long clouded their spirits. Though the path ahead remained fraught with uncertainty, Darius' words stirred his parents' hearts, kindling their long-dormant courage and reawakening their faith in the resurgence of the Valdenes.

In the dimming light of the Valdene Manor's gallery, as the echoes of Darius's declaration still hung in the air, Amara rose gracefully from her seat. Her silhouette cast an elongated shadow across the room, her arua flickering with subtle ripples of power. "Come, Darius," she said, her voice laced with a newfound determination, "it's time you saw the Valdene family treasury." Her eyes reflected the depths of centuries-old secrets, waiting to be revealed.