Lucien stood in the vast hallway.
Beyond the intricate archways, an open balcony stretched toward the heavens, revealing a breathtaking sight, a world untouched by human hands, yet shaped by forces far greater than any king or conqueror.
The mountains stood in solemn majesty, their peaks still dusted with the last remnants of winter, glowing under the afternoon light. Pine forests stretched endlessly below, swaying like an ocean of green, their crowns kissed with golden sun. Wisps of mist curled around jagged cliffs, shifting, forming, dissolving like forgotten dreams.
In the shadowed valley beneath, he spotted movement: a herd of musk deer, wandering where they did not belong. Creatures of the night, daring to step into the light. Their tentative steps, cautious, yet determined, reflected something in himself.
He stood there for minutes, maybe more. Watching. Listening. Breathing in the world he had been too long absent from. He admired its beauty.
My family was simple.
Father and Mother ruled with absolute power there had never been disputes over inheritance, no silent tension over who would take the throne. They handled the affairs of the household and matters regarding the outside world, dictated the laws we followed, so we never had to bother about anything other than what we needed to do and what we were asked to do.
No one questioned it, no one opposed it, because the thought of succession had never crossed any of our minds. At least, not among those still breathing.
But now that they are gone, cracks have started to show up.
It is not greed that fuels the unrest. Not ambition, nor the lust for control. No, the conflict arises from two forces far more fundamental, fear and pride.
The fearful ones see only shadows creeping closer. They know that if power falls into the wrong hands, the family itself could be torn apart, and they—those who are weak, those who do not hold the strength to fight—will be the first to suffer. Out there, beyond these forest and mountain, we are nothing more than monsters. Heretics.
Aberrations. Labels whispered in the dark by those who would see us burned. Here, within the estate, they are safe. But if the new head chooses to cast them out, if the delicate balance is shattered, they will be hunted. By the church, mages. By the very world itself. They fear for their survival, They fear because of lack of trust on the one who have the power to decide their fate.
In the eyes of those who fear me, I am A murderer. A traitor in their eyes. One who killed five of his own before. It was necessary, yet unforgivable. A stain that will not fade, no matter how much time passes.
Then there are the others, the ones who do not fear me, but refuse to bow. To them, service was a matter of necessity, not loyalty. They obeyed Father, as they obeyed Mother, but only because they were acknowledged by them and were also respectable as parents. To kneel before a sibling, a supposed equal, is an indignity they cannot accept. They will resist, not because they wish to rule, but because they refuse to be ruled. They cannot accept serving anyone other than our parents. Furthermore, they reject the idea that one of us could ever take their place.
If I wish to uphold my parents' legacy, to ensure that their names do not drown in disgrace, I must resolve this matter before it festers into something irreparable.
Pelta: “Brother, it’s time. Everyone has gathered. I’ve made all the necessary preparations.”
Lucien: “How many are present?”
Pelta: “All but the three eldest. They couldn’t come in person, but they’re attending through transmission. The rest are here.”
Lucien: “Once I give the word, distribute the documents I requested.”
Pelta Hesitates for a moment, “Are you certain about this?”
Lucien walked across the hall towards the gates of assembly room
The assembly hall was more than a chamber, it was a triumph of artistry and innovation, a world crafted from the boundless genius of two minds that had dared to defy the world itself. Everything here, from the very stone beneath their feet to the sky-forged mechanisms that hummed unseen, was a testament to them.
Lucien stepped through the towering entrance, and the hall came alive in quiet acknowledgment. The moment he crossed the threshold, the very air shifted, detecting, recognizing, remembering. Intricate veins of luminescent energy ran through the towering walls, pulsing in a slow, rhythmic cadence, an unseen heartbeat that guided the hall’s workings.
At the center of the vast space, a circular pool of water stretched wide, its surface so perfectly still that it mirrored the world above it.
Floating lotus flowers, white, violet, and gold—drifted upon it, each one a construct of living magic, their petals shifting in response to unseen forces. But they were not mere decoration. The flowers pulsed with an almost imperceptible energy, acting as conduits for the hall’s power, stabilizing the enormous forces at play within these walls.
Encircling the pool, twelve floating thrones hung in the air, each one a masterpiece of arcane craftsmanship. The seats, constructed from lightweight enchanted alloys, adjusted fluidly, molding themselves to the shape and comfort of their occupants.
They levitated without sound, moving with perfect balance, held aloft by unseen gravitational stabilizers powered by an intricate blend of magic and engineering.
Beneath them, the floor itself was a marvel of a fusion of white marble and obsidian-black veins, with molten gold streaks not merely painted but fused into the stone through alchemical processes, forming delicate patterns that pulsed like circuitry.
The walls, adorned with embedded gemstones of various enchantments, were not merely for beauty. They functioned as both aesthetic masterpieces and complex arcane interfaces, devices capable of storing, analyzing, and relaying information.
Above, the vaulted ceiling was a moving constellation, its design a breathtaking mosaic of floral engravings, celestial bodies, and arcane sigils, interwoven seamlessly as if the universe itself had been imprinted here.
Unlike ordinary murals, it shifted subtly, its celestial depictions aligning with the actual sky outside. A system of hidden lenses, magical relays, and engineered constructs ensured that no matter the time of day, the ceiling remained an accurate reflection of the heavens beyond the hall.
Yet, for all its beauty, the most astounding feature of the hall was not seen, but felt.
Lucien’s parents had not merely built this place, they had given it thought, intelligence, memory. The estate itself was alive, woven into a network of automatons and constructs, all bound to the will of its creators. Even now, hidden mechanisms within the walls observed, assessed, and responded to the presence of those within.
Lucien’s steps were steady as he approached the center, his boots meeting the marble with measured grace. Pelta followed, taking her place beside him.
From the far end of the hall, two throne drifted toward them, its movements seamless, as though guided by unseen hands.
Lucien sat on his throne
Max: "Oi, brother, shouldn’t you be lounging on Father’s throne now? Are you waiting for a formal invitation or something? C’mon, you’re the big boss now—at least pretend to look important!"
Finn: "How about you refrain from telling your elders what to do first? Also, let me remind you, brother hasn’t actually ascended to that position. There’s been no formal ceremony, no official announcement. Things like this should follow protocol."
Ultimare: "Wait—what did you just say? Are you implying that Father acknowledging Lucien as the next head isn’t sufficient? Finn, are you even thinking about what you’re saying?"
Ava: "Obviously, that’s not what Finn means, Ultimare. All he’s saying is that for such an important matter, we should follow proper protocol. Even a Crown Prince still has to go through an official ceremony, even after being chosen by the king himself."
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Ultimare: "That’s ridiculous logic. And just to be clear, what is this protocol you keep talking about? Does it even exist? Because I sure don’t remember it."
Finn: "If it doesn’t exist, we can establish one. Or are you suggesting we simply accept that Brother Lucien has suddenly taken over Father's position without so much as a word beforehand? Father’s decision was made abruptly, almost on impulse. Can we really allow something like that to dictate every aspect of this house's structure? I am in no way questioning Brother’s competency, but all I ask for is a clear process… a fulfillment of protocols that will satisfy us all."
Ava: "While I agree with you, Finn, mind your tone. You’re being disrespectful."
Max: "He's always like that, isn't he? This is exactly why I used to say he shouldn't bunk Etiquette Studies lecture. If you had actually attended, Finn, you wouldn't be embarrassing yourself like this—disrespecting your siblings, let alone your elders. You should be ashamed, Finn."
Finn: "Max, if you open that sewer you call a mouth one more time, I swear I’ll rip your face off."
Max: "Oh? And here he goes again. Brother Ultimare, I implore you, smack some sense into him! He’s threatening us in broad daylight, right in the middle of an important meeting!"
Ultimare: "‘Us?’ I’m fairly certain he meant you, Max. And I hate to break it to you, but I’d do the same if you don’t check your behavior."
Ava: "Do you enjoy getting your ass beaten up, Max? Why do you insist on being that one mosquito buzzing in a hot summer night?"
Max: "Wait—my sister can crack a joke? Nobody told me that! And here I thought you were only funny when you were running through the gardens like a lunatic, trying to catch that rabbit of yours!"
Ava, with deadly precision, launched a pen at speed of arrow in Max’s direction. He barely dodges it and laughed.
Max: "Oh-ho! Someone’s getting rusty! What happened? Missing your target practice these days?"
Suddenly, a sharp double thud echoes through the hall.
Lucien: "Pelta, distribute the copies."
From her table, documents elegantly flew, gliding toward each sibling, resting neatly on their extended side tables. Silence falls as they glance at the papers before them.
Lucien: "To everyone present, I expect your undivided attention. Everything you need to know is detailed in those documents. I will explain this once and only once, so listen carefully. First, as you all know, I am now the head of this family. That matter is not up for debate. Second, to ensure the smooth governance of our house, I have made few decisions and I intend to implement them from today."
The room turns silent, with a few wary glances exchanged.
"My first decision as the head of the family is regarding the delegation of authority. Certain responsibilities will be divided among those of reasonable age and competence, both mentally and physically. You will have the right to make decisions within your designated sphere. Read the document for specifics. I will still be receiving reports."
Several siblings glance at one another, expressions ranging from skepticism to intrigue and confusion.
Lucien: "Moving on. Second decision. I am introducing a system where members of this family can formally question and challenge decisions, including mine. You may request reversals, propose alternatives, or debate outcomes. The same process applies to those with delegated authority. Third, a voting system. When no decisive action can be agreed upon, or when disputes arise, votes will be cast. Each of you has been assigned a vote weight—details of which are in your documents."
Ava, whispering to Pelta: "He’s always like this. Why even bother explaining if you’re going to explain it badly? Just ask us to read the document from the start"
Lucien: "Ava, what did I say at the beginning?"
Ava: "Sorry, brother. My bad."
Lucien : "Now. Any questions?"
Max: "A lot, to be frank. But asking would be the same as calling death upon myself, wouldn’t it?"
Lucien: "Not death, perhaps. But something close enough."
Max visibly shaken,"… He actually responded. I think I just had a heart attack."
Finn: "You’re diluting your power significantly, brother. Are you sure you want this? More importantly, why are you doing this? Don’t you want to rule? To enjoy the power that comes with it?"
Lucien leans back in his chair, exhaling lazily, "Rule? I have no desire for such a thing. The title of family head was given to me, but it has nothing to do with ruling. A head’s job is not to impose authority but to manage, to lead, to ensure stability. If my goal is to run this house efficiently, then this system is simply the best way to achieve that."
He stretches slightly before continuing, his voice casual but firm.
"Why do you assume a leader’s role is to command and enjoy power? A head is merely the brain of the house, tasked with responsibilities only they can handle. But what is a brain without its body? No matter how much I wish to move, if I have no legs, I cannot walk—can I?"
"Power isn't something to be enjoyed. If it were, that would be corruption. Our father was never corrupt. And as his children, we should follow his example."
The youngest Sinclair spoke with all the formal tone she could muster.
Daisy: "Ex-excuse me, Brother... may I ask a question?"
Lucien: "Go ahead."
Daisy: "Brother, I don’t mind your system, but… this part in the voting system… what is 'evela… evolu… ebas—?'"
Ryan: "Evaluation of voting points."
Daisy shouted, "I can read it myself!!......, That’s what I was talking about"
Max: "It means we all have the right to vote in decision-making, but our votes have different weights. Someone with 1 point has their vote count as 1, while someone with 2 points has it count as 2—"
Ava annoyed at this explanation, "Max, if you can’t explain it properly, don’t even try. Daisy, listen up. It’s really simple. Each of us gets a vote, but not all votes are equal. The head, has the most—five points. Our eldest sister has four. The second sister and first brother each get three. Since Brother Lucien is already is head of the house, he is skipped. Then there's the 5th brother Ultimare, me, Finn, Max, and Pelta. We each get two points. You and Ryan, since you're the youngest, have one point each. That’s all there is to it."
Daisy: "That’s unfair!"
Finn: "It is, but it makes sense. You and Ryan are still young—both mentally and physically."
Max: "Daisy's definitely the youngest, she's only eight. But… Ryan’s just three years younger than most of us. Oh wait, never mind. He does act like a brat, trying to be some mysterious hero from a novel. Yeah, I get it now, it must be more of a mental thing, I guess."
Ryan: "What the hell did you just say, you brain-dead chimp?"
A voice echoes from one of the floating chairs without anyone actually sitting on it, carrying an air of amusement in her tone
Nova: "Tch. And here I thought something interesting would happen. But no—Lucien just had to kill all speculation in one go. You were offered so much, yet you turned it into this. What a disappointment. But hey, do whatever. I never cared much to begin with. I only joined because I thought I’d get to see some chaos… but never mind. How boring.”
Another voice follows, this one more composed yet carrying an edge.
Selene: "No one benefits from inner conflict. I’m relieved, Lucien, that you addressed the issue before it spiraled out of control. More importantly, I appreciate that you don’t see yourself as someone to be served simply because you are the head. If you had expected us to bow and obey like subordinates, If you had made that mistake, I would’ve ensured a punishment worthy of it. But my dear brother isn’t that foolish. Good, you just dodged the dagger."
Lucien: "Now that I’m done, our new sibling and secretary will lead the conversation from here. We’ll be discussing a few more things, But before that, both sides should properly introduce themselves."
Selene laughs lightly: "Ah, your silly habit of ignoring things again… You really do want to be punished, don’t you, child?"
Pelta: "Greetings,. I am Pelta06. You may call me Pelta. I am your new secretary and sibling. I am still young and learning about the world, so please take care of me. And excuse me if I make any mistakes."
Selene: “Nice to meet ya, little one. I wholeheartedly welcome you into our family as your first sister, Selene Sinclair. Pardon my absence, I wish I could greet you in person, but I promise to make it up to you once I return.”
Nova: “Good to know you, dear little sister. I’m Nova Sinclair, your lovable second sister. If this Lucien grunt ever bothers you too much, or you find yourself in trouble, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m always here to help.”
Alaric: “Greetings to our newest sibling. I am your eldest brother, Alaric Sinclair, and I welcome you warmly into our family. I firmly believe you’ll fit in just fine, so don’t stress too much. Just live freely and enjoy your time here.”
Ultimare: "Ah, yes, we've already had the pleasure. But to conclude these tedious formalities, I am Ultimare Sinclair, the fifth son. Should you find yourself in need of… anything at all, do feel free to inquire. I am, as always, at your service, sister."
Ava: “I’m Ava Sinclair, your fourth sister, and I truly hope we get along well. Let’s have tea together sometime! And don’t worry too much about work, we’re all here to support you.”
Finn: “Just like everyone else, I want to assure you that you don’t have to bear the burden alone. We’ll navigate through everything together, obstacles, responsibilities, and all. No need to pressure yourself into knowing or doing everything right away. I’m Finn Sinclair, your sixth brother. Let’s get along.”
Max: “Pelta, huh? I pray your sanity survives. No, scratch that—you’re already part of this family, so you’re probably a little unhinged already. My only wish is that you don’t lose any more of your mind in this household of tightly-knit freaks.”
He grins, as he continued, “Oh, right my introduction! The name’s Max Sinclair, and unlike everyone else here who’s eager to assist you with work and responsibilities, I won’t be doing any of that. Work and I don’t get along. I’m a man of leisure, I sleep till noon, waste the rest of the day playing, and that’s how I plan to keep it. But if you ever want to play, I’m your guy! Boyish games, girlish games, good ones, terrible ones—even house, if that’s your thing. Hey, I have an idea! Let’s play tomorrow—morning’s the best time to start the day with games.”
Pelta: “Okay, Brother max, as you say.”
Finn: “Max, what are you? A toddler? Even Ryan has better manners than you. At the very least, pretend to be modest and elegant if you can’t actually manage it.”
Ava: “Honestly, instead of Daisy and Ryan getting just one voting point, I think it should have been you.”
Max, laughing, puts his hands over his ears, “I can’t hear you~!”
Daisy:“I—I’m Daisy Sinclair, your seventh sister! I’ll help guide you, and I can show you around! The estate, the mansions, the forest, the mountains, the garden, the lake, there’s so much! I’ll take good care of you, I promise!”
Ryan: “I’m your eighth brother, though honestly, you already look bigger than me and Daisy. Still, make sure you respect the hierarchy in place. I am Ryan Sinclair, by the way.”
Pelta: “Thank you all for your kind words. I will do my best.”
A silence followed. All eyes turned toward a particular man.
Lucien: “Oh. It’s my turn?”
With the poised elegance of a sovereign and a smile not born of joy, but of absolute assurance, Lucien Sinclair stood tall, exuding an air of effortless command.
"I, Lucien Sinclair, as your brother and head of this esteemed house, welcome you into our family. The journey ahead is long, and we are now bound to it together. So let us walk it side by side, navigating its twists and trials, enjoying the journey and finding joy in the moments we can."
