NOVEL NEXT Chapter 4: Chapter-4
January 24th, 1945
The Rusty Manor
Inside the Ritual Room
Adrian Stark's POV
The day I had long anticipated had finally arrived—today, my grandson would receive the Stark name and the magic that has coursed through our bloodline for generations. I had been eagerly awaiting this day for months. While my greenseeing abilities aren't as potent as they once were, this day had always stood out clearly in my visions, a beacon of hope and continuity for House Stark.
The Starks did not endure through the centuries merely because of our magical prowess; it was our mastery of greenseeing that set us apart. While the number of greenseers within our line were limited, those few have been immensely powerful. Historically, most greenseers have come from House Reed, renowned for their innate talent in seeing beyond the present. Yet, even among Starks, our greenseers, though few, have been formidable.
Today, five greenseers from House Reed are with us, each with the ability to navigate the past, present, and future. Unlike me, they can peer into the days, Weeks, and sometimes Months ahead, though with limitations. However, what they told me today was unsettling.
"What do you mean someone tried to block your vision ?" I asked, my voice edged with concern.
One of the greenseers, a middle-aged man with eyes that seemed to peer into your soul, replied, "Sire, we encountered someone trying to block our sight, Especially todays events that are about to unfold."
Another, an elderly woman who had always been calm in the face of uncertainty, added, "It was fairly strong magic, but it was not enough to stop us. We overcame the obscuring magic without alerting the castor."
A somewhat younger voice continued, " We have checked todays events multiple time, Nothing is out of place. The week following this is also safe, nothing out of place. we are trying to see further, but it will take time."
This was troubling. Though this was not cause for outright panic, it was unsettling. The Rusty Manor's defenses are the best that gold and magic can provide. Reinforced with ancient wards, it is impervious to outside forces. Only if those defenses were compromised from within could anyone hope to breach them.
Setting aside these troubling thoughts, I refocused on the day's primary objective: the blessing ritual. This ritual is most potent when performed early in a child's life. Traditionally, the ritual is held when the child reaches the age of Six or older, but Aryan, with his sharp mind and quick wit, had his ritual scheduled months early. Some elders expressed concern over performing the ritual early, but I was resolute—this is my only grandson, and he will be the best of us all. Today, Aryan would receive the blood and blessings from both the Stark and Lannister lines, a union that would bestow upon him unparalleled potential.
After the ritual, Aryan would be placed inside a dome-like structure for several days. This dome is no ordinary creation; it is one of the greatest magical marvels of its time. The blood, magic, and abilities conferred during the ritual need time to assimilate and settle within the child's body, and the dome facilitates this process. It is equipped with everything necessary to sustain an individual for months, including the ability to heal injuries and, if required, place the body in stasis. The longer the assimilation period, the greater the results. I myself took nearly ten months to fully assimilate and emerge from the dome.
After verifying that all the ritual's requirements were met and ensuring everything was proceeding smoothly, I made my way back to the main hall.
General POV
The main hall was a hive of activity, buzzing with the anticipation of the noble guests who had come to celebrate with the Starks. Nobles from various houses mingled, engaged in lively conversation, and formed alliances, as was customary at these grand gatherings.
Suddenly, the attention of the entire room shifted toward the entrance as the Lannisters made their grand entrance. Leading them was Lord Corneleous Lannister, a man of imposing stature and commanding presence. At his side was Lord Theodore Briggs, head of the vassal house Briggs, a close ally of the Lannisters.
Lord Corneleous approached his granddaughter with a stern look. "Where is Aryan?" he inquired without preamble.
"Good day to you too, Grandfather," Joanna replied with a hint of exasperation, rolling her eyes at his brusqueness.
"He's upstairs, preparing," Markus added, stepping in to diffuse the tension.
Lord Corneleous then turned his attention to Joanna, engaging her in a conversation that quickly turned to small talk, leaving Markus to greet the other guests.
As Markus turned to Lord Briggs, he inquired, "Where are Lady Briggs and your son?"
"Ah, my youngest wasn't feeling well, so Sofia stayed home with the children," Lord Briggs replied.
Markus noticed the beads of sweat forming on Lord Briggs's forehead. "Must be the a flu," he commented, studying the man closely. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes, it must be the flu, as you said," Lord Briggs responded, his Breathlessness evident. "Please, take a seat. I'll have someone bring you refreshments," Markus offered, guiding him to his assigned place.
The room's attention shifted once again as Adrian Stark entered. His presence commanded respect, and the room seemed to quiet in acknowledgment of the Stark patriarch. He scanned the crowd until his gaze settled on Lord Corneleous.
"I see you've made yourself comfortable, Corneleous," Adrian said with a hearty chuckle. "I trust the journey wasn't too strenuous for a man of your age, bahahaha."
Lord Corneleous, quick as ever, snapped back, "I'm still young enough that you don't need to worry about my age, Stark," he shot back with a smirk. "Perhaps you should be more concerned with yourself—otherwise, you might end up as rusty as this manor's name." He added with a grin, "And have you put on some weight? I swear you were a few stones lighter the last time I saw you, rahahaha."
A tense silence fell over the room as guests unfamiliar with the relationship between the two house heads began to panic, the palpable tension in the air making many uneasy. The Stark lord's reclusive nature only added to the guests' discomfort.
Suddenly, both patriarchs erupted into laughter. "BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "RAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" They embraced each other in a bear hug that seemed more like a clash of titans.
Seeing their antics, Markus, Joanna, and the nearby staff joined in the laughter, easing the tension in the room.
"Grandpa!" a small voice called from the top of the stairs, drawing everyone's attention. Aryan, the main star of today's event, was descending the staircase with the eager energy only a child could muster.
"Aryan!" both elders responded in unison, their faces lighting up at the sight of their grandson.
Aryan dashed down the stairs, beaming with excitement. "Grandpa Corny is here too!" he exclaimed as he reached them.
"BAHAHAHAHA, take that, you old lion!" Adrian laughed, ruffling Aryan's hair.
Lord Corneleous, slightly embarrassed by Adrian's teasing, picked up his great-grandson. "How many times have I told you, dear? Just call me Grandpa. You're making me sad. Do you want your Grandpa to be sad?" he asked with exaggerated concern.
"Don't be sad, Grandpa. You're my favorite Grandpa, so don't be sad," Aryan replied with the innocent sincerity that only a child could muster.
"See that, you old Stark? He called me his favorite Grandpa, rahahaha!" Lord Corneleous boasted, winking at Adrian.
'Acting cute is really tiring,' Aryan thought with a sigh.
As the laughter died down, everyone took their seats, and the feast began in earnest. Conversations resumed, and the flow of food and drink kept the atmosphere lively. Music filled the hall, and soon, the nobles began to dance, the room bathed in a warm, serene glow.
At the high table, where the heads of both houses sat, the conversation drifted to matters of old duels, alliances, and battles won and lost.
"What do you think about Grindelwald? Will he win?" Lord Corneleous asked, his question drawing the attention of everyone at the table. Even Aryan, young as he was, listened intently.
"Grindelwald will fall," Adrian Stark replied without hesitation. "Sooner or later, he will fall. Yes, he is strong—I'll give him that. His end goal and agenda have valid points, but his methods are too extreme. Muggles are dangerous, yes, and they are advancing quickly, finding new ways to harm one another. But enslaving Muggles and breaking the Statute of Secrecy is not the solution."
"The concept of 'The Greater Good' is nonsense," Adrian continued, his voice filled with the wisdom of years. "Grindelwald is just another power-hungry man with dreams of world domination."
Lord Corneleous Lannister, further added, "When will these wizards understand? The Statute of Secrecy wasn't established to protect Muggles—it was created to protect us. Muggles outnumber us roughly 5,000 to 1. Those are not good odds. Even if Grindelwald somehow succeeds, how does he plan to govern them? With an iron fist? Surely, you Starks understand the difficulty of ruling over Muggles, having once ruled the Kingdom of the North for centuries."
Aryan, his curiosity piqued, asked, "We were kings once?"
Adrian Stark smiled at his grandson's surprise. "Yes, we were kings—kings of the North," he replied, his voice filled with pride as he reminisced about the glorious past of House Stark.