The deep, resonant dong of a massive clock pierced through the opulent grandeur of Sclera, precisely marking the stroke of noon.
At the centre of the grand space,amidst the focused gaze of all the six noble families, stood a man of a subtly aged appearance.
His countenance, proud and matured, he radiated a confident stature,a silent testament to his achieved affiliation with the Crest of the Behemoth.
He possessed eyes of gray, brown hair combined with a few gray strands, and a mildly wrinkled face with a simple ,neutral facial expression.
He proclaimed himself the day's
Master of Ceremonies,entrusted with guiding the proceedings.
A profound delight resonated in his voice as he emphasised the honour of orchestrating the Patrov function.
Within the opulent majesty of the hall ,Delmonfeld resided,orchestrating the proceedings of the function.
He then executed a majestic bow, an act of profound reverence,sweeping toward the six noble families present in the grand hall.
In a manner of solicitous courtesy, he kindly requested that the Lord of the Sixth Land, whom he elegantly addressed as,Lord Pofike Deremon ,of the House Deremon ,to step forth.
He humbly contextualised himself as a mere commoner,merely affiliated to the Sixth Family, asserting that the Lord's participation was imperative for the functions commencement.
The sophisticated narrative gained profound depth as the exposed yielded an avalanche of heirachial tension.
An energetic current of disdain permeated the celebratory atmosphere.
Delmonfeld found himself ensnared by the invisible strictures of an unforgiving social heirachy.
His profoundly deferential bow toward the six noble families while publicly magnanimous, underscored his affiliated status as a mere commoner, a fact that became a sub-rosa discourse among the assembled peerage.
Subtle, yet persasive, murmurs circulated.
Pure members of the distinguished families thought not affiliatory status members deserved the honours of conducting such functions, yet alone the right of calling out on one of the lords of the Six Lands.
"Look at how he carries himself,"
A young noble woman whispered behind a lace fan, her eyes cold.
" A commoner playing at heraldry."
"He wears the Crest of the Sixth House, yet he smells of the earth."
"Affiliation is not blood,"
Her companion replied, his voice a low jagged blade.
"Lord Pofike is far too charitable!"
"To allow a man of the dirt to stand amidst the six bloodlines...it is a stain upon the sanctity of the birthday."
Their sotto voce, envinced a tactic belief that his elevated standing was an undeserved transgression against the established social order.
As the commoner, Delmonfeld, concluded his appeal, he retreated with practised rythmic grace,bowing his head in profound deference, as he vacated the central stage.
The vacuum he left was instantly filled by a presence that seemed to pull the very oxygen from the air.
Lord Pofike Deremon, stepped into the light.
Standing at a commanding six feet two inches,he moved with the predatory elegance of a panther.
His physique was a masterclass in functional power not overly burdened by cumbersome muscle ,but "jagged "and lean, his form perfectly contoured by a bespoke suit of midnight black and pale sandy, brown.
His complexion, a rich deep ebony characteristic of the tropical sun-drenched Sixth Land, stood in striking contrast to the pale ivory aesthetics of the more northern houses.
He was undeniably striking;a well-sculpted jawline and piercing brown eyes gave him the air of a man who was as dangerous as he was handsome.
From his back, long and beautiful dreads of black were marvellously rested.
Upon his left hand, centered on the middle finger, sat an obsidian and gold signet ring.
Crested upon its face was a silhouette of a behemoth rendered in a visceral, dirty maroon,the heraldry of a land shaped by heat and hardship.
As he took centre stage, a tangible pressure radiated from his form.
This was the weight of his Astros, an invisible tide of energy that rippled through the hall,silencing the snobs and skeptics.
It was an undeniable testament to why he held the mantle of the Sixth Lord.
He allowed a moment of dramatic silence to hang in the air,let the weight of his presence settle, before his voice rich and resonant broke the stillness.
"We stand at the precipice of a sacred transition,"
Pofike began, his gaze sweeping across the assembly.
"The coming of age is not merely a mark of years.It is the epoch when the Vestments of Astros begin their ascent, emerging from the primordial depths of the earth to clothe the worthy in their true power."
His expression shifted turning towards the highest seat in the hall with a look of tempered steel and formal respect.
"To that end, I herald the Presence.
Lord Alaric Patrov, High Lord of these domains, I call upon you to commence the Awakening Ritual."
"Let the path be opened for the scions of your blood:Eric and Adelaide Patrov."
As Lord Pofike's voice ebbed,the focus of the hall shifted upwards to the Patrov dais. There sat Lord Alaric Patrov, a vision of ethereal nobility.
His silky blonde hair framed a face of haunting symmetry a long slender nose,supple coral lips ,and eyes the colour of a chartreuse spring.
He possessed the lithe, well-sculpted build of a man who moved with the grace of a predatory beast and the dignity of a king.
Upon hearing his name,a gentle knowing smirk danced across his canvas-like features.
He rose, a towering six feet four inches of silent authority, and he began his descent toward the stage.
Beside him moved lady Josephine, her presence a stabilising anchor of elegance.
As they reached the centre, Lord Pofike did not retreat; instead he stood firmly at Alaric's left hand, a position of ultimate martial respect.
On Alaric's right, stood Josephine.
The High Lord's voice then filled the hall, smoothed like polished glass.
"Evolution is the singular truth of our existence, "
Alaric proclaimed.
"Today my kin ascend!"
"They shed the cacoon of childhood to discover their true capabilities and claim their place within the Crest of the Dragon."
He glanced at his wife, their shared pride radiating outward.
"May this day of birth, be a joyous celebration for the bloodline of the Patrovs."
A heavy ,reverent silence gripped the assembly as Alaric prepared the formal introductions.
An usher in the hall, gave him a sacred scroll, one which had the names of all the six lords.
He began the roll call of the lords,his voice ringing out with the weight of history.
"1. From the First Land, Renova."
"I herald thee Lord Alaric Patrov, High Lord of the Malla."
"Born of the House Patrov, "
"The Crest of the Star Dragon."
"Bloodline Trait, Gravity Manipulation. "
"2. From the Second Land, Drascera. "
"I herald thee Lord Vanessa Clairemont. "
"Born of the House Clairemont, "
"The Crest of the Phoenix."
"Bloodline Trait, Flame ."
"3 . From the Third Land, Vanski. "
"I herald thee, Lord Rudger Rubelmont. "
"Born of the House Rubelmont, "
" The Crest of the Leviathan. "
"Bloodline Trait, Pressure ."
"4. From the Fourth Land, Tatratus."
"I herald thee Lord Alazar Salazar. "
"Born of the House Salazar,"
"The Crest of the Griffin."
" Bloodline Trait, Speed."
"5. From the Fifth Land, Bonmerk."
"I herald thee Lord Travis Scotler. "
"Born of the House Scotler, "
"The Crest of the Chimera."
"Bloodline Trait, Explosion."
"6. From the Sixth Land, Alfalik."
"I herald thee Lord Pofike Deremon."
"Born of the House Deremon, "
"The Crest of the Behemoth."
"Bloodline Trait, Enhancement. "
As the names were read, the lords stepped forward.
The air grew thick and jagged with their competing energies, a terrifying cocktail of raw power that scaled upwards in intensity from the Sixth to the Second Lord.
A stir of confusion rippled through the hall when the Fourth Lord was called,instead of a Lord, a woman of a striking presence stepped forth, Lady Aserin Salazar.
Her skin was a rich warm brown, her hair and eyes as dark as midnight.
Though she stood a modest five feet seven, her composure was iron-clad as she offered her apologies.
"The Lord of the Fourth Land sends his regrets,High Lord,"
She stated,her voice steady.
"The reasons previously conveyed by Sir Relvus the Black remain urgent."
On hearing this, Alaric's face developed a subtle discomfort, quickly changing back to a controlled state of expression.
"Since all the progenitors of the bloodlines are present, let the Awakening begin, to commence all the lords or their representatives must be in possession of the ring of Kaltara . "
"Then, the scions must be called upon."
The High Lord spoke grandly.
He then summoned for a special casing from his squire, a small red and golden chest that was clearly containing a royal relic.
The High Lord then touched within it, pulling out a black and golden ring, it had an artistic design rivalled by none, on its face an indigo star dragon was crested, on the borderlines, small golden chains that perfectly linked between all his fingers on his left hand , only to connect back towards his wrist .
These connections consisted six empty slots ,four on his fingers and two on his wrist.
The other lords, had somewhat similar rings as Lord Pofike.
The Second Lord having a ring with a blue Phoenix on it's face, the third, a Leviathan of a green like hue ,one that resembled the jades,the fourth of a Griffin of gold and the fifth of a Chimera of an orange shade.
The moment the ring met his finger, the air didn't just change, it buckled.
As the metal settled against his skin,a low frequency hum vibrated through the hall, a sound felt more in the marrow of the bone than in the ear.
The energy, an aura not like a flash of light or gust of wind but a sudden crushing increase in atmospheric pressure that made every person in the room catch their breath at once.
It felt as though the gravity in the immediate vicinity had doubled.
Shoulders slumped involuntarily, and knees buckled as Alaric's mere existence began to take up more space than physically possible.
A surging energy, filled the air sharp and ozone thick.
The temperature did not drop but a primal chill rippled outward, the kind of cold that signals the presence of a predator.
The light around Alaric seemed to pull inward, dimming the periphery of the hall, casting a singular sharp focus.
Shadows lengthened, stretching away as if trying to escape.
All the other nobles, did not need a display of Astros to understand what had happened. It was purely instinctive recognition.
To look at the High Lord, was to look at a storm behind a glass door.
Every witness felt a sudden frantic urge to go quiet, the kind of silence that follows the crack of thunder.
They were not staring at the first Lord anymore, they were standing in the shadow of a monolith, and for the first time the true scale of power was displayed right before their eyes, the High Lord's power ceased to be a mere rumour.
It was an undeniable suffocating weight,to as why the House Patrov resided over the other Houses of the Lands.
This and alongside that , that they all feared and respected.
"This power, you feel it right?"
A female reporter talked with a male colleague .
'Yes, I do!'
"I'm guessing the first Lord has put on his ring, and the' Rite of Kaltara ' has been performed."
" I guess that means that the games are soon to commence and that's when things get really interesting."
Her companion replied, with cold effortless gaze in his eyes.
In the hall, silence was observed for a time as the High Lord of the Malla, placed on his ring.
A reality shuddering energy exuded out of the hall through the whole grandeur of the arena, grand enough to make bystanders and nearby reporters tremble in profound overwhelment.
"So, this is what it means to be High Lord, one must have such terrifying amounts of Astros!"
Eric thought.
"Eric, ground yourself, we are yet to be sired by the High Lord, don't forget that this is a ground of a speculative and cynical web."
Adelaide talked to Eric, leaning back a little onto his shoulder.
"Oh! I'm sorry , I was a little lost there!"
Eric spoke,fixing his body posture and preparing himself for the next event.
"I noticed, "
Adelaide responded.
As she stared keenly at her father and the Lords of the Lands.
From the shadowed heights of the upper gallery, their Father's voice cut clear and resolute, but not as a shout,but as a resonance that vibrated through the teeth of everyone present.
The other lords the stood in an ascending order from the Second Lord to the Sixth Lord, focusing all their Astros in their rings and slowly reducing their output.
At the centre, of their curved formation ,stood the High Lord, Lord Alaric Patrov, his energy then became more collective and restrained from its wild surge, suppressing the level of his Astros output as well.
Hence the lords all having similar energy outputs ,perfectly resonating in unison.
He then summoned the twins down to the centre, to take their birth rights , a power that had been lying dormant within them.
Gently and steadily the twins made their way down, their movement graceful and majestic, simply mirroring the conduct of their highly esteemed parents.
And when they reached his desired stage, the ritual began.
"Adelaide, born first of the Patrov bloodline,"
"Eric ,born second of the Patrov bloodline ,"
"Children born of the same womb of the same chord,"
"Children that accept the bloodline , hence forth ,and promise not to stray from the sacrosanct convenants of the Prodegon."
"Children not born of the Prodegon trait,but born within the same Prodegon cycle."
"Children whose birth aligned with the birth of the Prodegon vestige."
"Step forth now , rise and ascend to the Star Dragon, with the witnesses of the
Solicratz Phoenix, the Evergreen Leviathan, the Ganeyak Griffin, the Tanatem Chimera and the Balerian Behemoth,
Of course with the inconvenient presence of that of which we do not speak, I usher you to the Patrov bloodline and the Astros linkage, 'Inka' strengthens the bloodline. "
Alaric spoke as he stared , at his children with a blank emotionless face.
He then went forth and touched on their foreheads , something he did simultaneously as the other Lords of the Lands , keenly observed them as they kept on exuding the same amount of Astros as Alaric.
On physical contact, each of them felt a certain mysterious void being filled , filled up by an energy so acient and yet so mighty.
This energy was a mix, it felt warm and cold, diverse yet rigid and acient, pure and refined over ages.
This power surged through out their very veins, something that had been a part of them for a long time without even realising it, it was a power unseen.