Prologue: Failure of a Fourth Son
“HE HAS NO APTITUDE FOR ANY OF THE FOUR elemental magics? How could such a failure of a child come from our house? The house of a marquis?!” There you have it—my father’s scathing words.
Citizens in our country had their magical aptitude appraised at the age of eight. In this world filled with magic, it was important to know what innate talents people possessed. Why assess that as late as eight years old? In the past, children without any real control over their powers were evaluated too early, their magic running wild and unleashing a string of tragedies.
For the record, two types of magic were highly sought after by the nobility: any of the four elemental magics specialized for offense and defense—and thereby the protection of one’s home and people—and healing magic.
On the flip side, there were types of magic the nobles deemed lesser. Thieving magic that enabled one to absorb stamina, sap magic power, and steal possessions from others. Transformation magic. Illusion magic used to create hallucinations or brainwash the target. Appraisal magic that laid bare all manner of details about people and things. Marionette magic. Necromancy. All kinds of different magics existed.
And so it was judged that the production magic I possessed was beneath nobility.
As the name implied, production magic gave its user the power to create things. It was also referred to as alchemy. Generally speaking, creating things required a great deal of magic power, and the things one could make weren’t exactly impressive. Most mages with this talent used iron or copper to forge the swords and accessories of their imaginations.
Others became true inventors, but they were few and far between. Magic just wasn’t required to invent things, and production magic even less so. The same went for smithing, making those magical blacksmiths obsolete. Thus, production mages were considered to be the most unfortunate of them all.
Magical aptitude was heavily dependent on genes. If one’s parents had magical aptitude for one of the four elements, there was more than a 50 percent chance their child would share it. Additionally, if one’s grandparents also had that magical aptitude, there was an over 70 percent chance of inheriting it. As such, the nobility had long sought out those with elemental aptitude as partners, and that became part of the culture. If everyone in the family possessed said talents, it was almost guaranteed that the next child would inherit those abilities.
As time went by, this custom tightened its chokehold. If any other aptitude (outside of healing magic) manifested in a child of nobility, they were deemed an embarrassment. That warped mindset didn’t spread particularly far among smaller nobles, or quasi-noble families like warrior households. But when it came to the houses of counts and marquises—such as my own—this tradition was doctrine.
“Ours is a family of fighters. It was through my military feats that I clawed my way up from count to marquis, elevating the household along with it. To enhance my already potent flame magic through future heirs, I married the flame mage Mira—even though she was from a barony, mind you. She was a good wife and mother, but her body was as weak as her magic was strong. As the fourth son, you were last in line to shoulder the family name,” my father, Jalpa Bul Ati Fertio, said with a disgusted look on his face.
My mother, Mira, passed away when I was just five. My father took a second and third wife, but oddly enough, Mother was the only one to have boys. Thus, Father was deeply despondent when she died. We four boys were educated very strictly, and it only got worse.
My eldest brother, Murcia, inherited wind magic from our maternal grandmother. Yet the second-and third-eldest inherited flame magic, just as Father hoped.
From the age of thirteen, Murcia was educated as the acting leader of the family, but it wasn’t long before my other brothers banded against him in mockery. Murcia knew they were Father’s favorites, so he strove to work harder than anyone else. He sacrificed sleep so he could become a great noble in matters other than magic.
Thanks to his efforts, Murcia never lost his position as acting leader of the family. My other brothers didn’t take this well, attributing his position to a difference in age rather than ability, so they continued to sling insults his way. I, on the other hand, had just turned eight and was about to have my magical aptitude appraised. I’d been told that I was special ever since I was little, so my father had high expectations of me.
However, the result of the appraisal was that I had production magic—the worst possible outcome. While my father was utterly dejected by the news, my two cruel older brothers smirked with glee. They’d been wary of my assessment till then. Murcia, on the other hand, sympathized with my plight.
“Our house is bound to grow in the future, yet we produced offspring with production magic? This is no laughing matter. Perhaps it would be best if I just-”
Before Father could finish his disturbing thought, Murcia cut in with a smile.
“Ah, right! Wasn’t there that one village on the frontier, Father? It is technically part of our territory, but its poor location has stunted development.
What say we leave it to Van?”
“That nameless village? Why?” Father shot him a doubtful look, but the smiling Murcia bobbed his head eagerly.
“The Kingdom of Yelenetta is next door, correct? And then the other side is Lord Ferdinatto’s territory. There’s also a defensive location—the fortress city— though it’s rather far away. The village really only has value as a campground for the knights when they go to Ferdinatto County for expedition training.”
“I’m well aware. There have only ever been a hundred or so villagers at any given time, and they produce nothing of note. The Wolfsbrook Mountain Range to the north has natural resources, but powerful monsters lurk betwixt the crags. It’s part of the land I acquired upon becoming a marquis, yet Lord Ferdinatto often deploys his knights there to punish me for ‘stealing’ it.”
No sooner had Father said that than his head snapped up.
“Oh, I get it now. In other words, if we send Van to that village, we can station our own knights nearby without it being an issue! Not to mention, since that area is newly acquired territory, the villagers are not truly loyal to our house. If we dispatched one of our own there, even a screw-up like Van… Yes, I see. Well thought, Murcia. You’ve found a way to use the useless.”
In response to those awful words, Murcia bowed his head deeply.
Thus, I was ordered to become the lord of the nameless village in the middle of nowhere. Father left the room in a great mood, his favorites trotting behind him, leaving only myself and Murcia behind.
“Brother…”
When I called for him, his winning smile wilted with sorrow. He came up to me and dipped his head in apology. My own brother, ten years older than me.
“I am so sorry. I know that even without magical aptitude, you are a wise, talented member of the nobility. That’s why I made such an outlandish request of Father. If you resent anyone, let it be me.”
I grimaced at his awkward attempt at an explanation and shook my head.
“Absolutely not. You saved my skin just now! If things had gone on any longer, Father might’ve had me locked up or even killed. Perhaps he’d cut out my tongue and sell me on the slave market! This situation may seem hopeless, but I have no intention of wasting the opportunity you’ve given me.”
Murcia raised his head and looked at me, wide-eyed. “You truly are a genius. I get the feeling that our dear marquis will regret sending you to the middle of nowhere.” A flicker of anguish crossed his face, and then he addressed me seriously. “I might not be able to do much, but I will do whatever I can. Anything to help you, Van.”
“Thank you,” I replied, beaming.
Though things were still awkward, Murcia’s lips quirked up. “You have always been such a mysterious child, sensitive to the subtleties of the human heart. You appear to be a deeper thinker than I’ve ever been.” His smile grew, a faraway look in his eyes. “Esparda and Till, the butler and your maid, have been coming to me to gush about your progress for some time now.”
