Shaped by magic, Solmara was a world divided into four vast continents, each home to distinct peoples, cultures, and dangers.
To the North, the frozen tundras were home to the beastfolk, lizardmen and their likes. They were a collection of vicious tribes and clans who thrived in the harsh climate other creatures feared. Though often seen as savages by outsiders, their societies were deeply structured and guided by ancient traditions.
The Western Continent was known as the Fair Folk Lands. It was home to the fairies, elves and dwarves. They were most compatible with mana and were perceived cocky by the other races. They had a deep mistrust for the other races and minded their business.
Meanwhile, the Southern Continent, known as the Crimson Wastes was home to the demon folks. Their sole desire was to dominate the world and there had been a great war a hundred years ago because of it.
The Eastern Continent was the seat of power, the heart of the Celestian Empire, the greatest nation in Solmara. Its lands stretched vast and prosperous, ruled by an unbroken line of emperors said to be descended from the gods themselves.
The Holy Order of Celestia was the most powerful religious institution within the Celestian Empire, devoted to the worship of the Celestial Gods—divine beings believed to have shaped the world of Solmara. Rooted in tradition and unwavering in its authority, the Order wielded both political and military influence, acting as the spiritual backbone of the empire.
At its core, the Holy Order was governed by the High Council of Saints, a conclave of revered priests, oracles, and battle-priests, each anointed by divine favor. They resided in the Sanctum of Radiance, a grand citadel of marble and gold, where sacred relics and celestial artifacts were safeguarded. Beneath them were the Templars of the Light, holy warriors clad in blessed armor, wielding weapons imbued with divine magic. These knights serve as both protectors of the faithful and enforcers of the Order's will, leading crusades against heretics, demons, and practitioners of forbidden magic.
The Holy Order also housed the Inquisitors of the Pure Flame. They were the ones tasked with rooting out corruption, blasphemy and arcane abominations. Feared even by nobles, the Inquisitors operated in secrecy, answering only to the High Council. Those accused of heresy rarely escape their judgment.
While the Order preaches benevolence, its influence was absolute and few dared to oppose it. To defy the Order was seen as a challenge to the gods themselves—an act of treason punishable by death in some cases.
It was unknown when magic first came to Solmara but it was everything. It defined nobility, dictated power, and separated the extraordinary from the mundane. It flowed through bloodlines and determined one's place in society.
The magic was made possible by the mana core within the user's body. There were five stages in a Mana core's growth also known as stages; Grade 1: White, Grade 2: Yellow, Grade 3: Red, Grade 4: Blue, Grade 5: Gold.
Those with magic trained to hone their abilities and their mana cores grew stronger with time. Breaking through to the next stage was their major occupation since it meant that they could use more powerful spells. The most powerful mages became Archmages, advisors to emperors and rulers. Those without magic, however, were considered insignificant.
And now, Lucian was one of them.
***
Lucian stood frozen as he tried to process what was happening to him. The silence in the hall was unbearable, broken only by the soft murmurs of the crowd.
"No magic… Unbelievable."
"A Vaelcrest without power?"
"How shameful for the duke."
The words stung, even though they weren't meant for him directly. His father's face was a mask of fury and humiliation and it showed in the way he paced around.
Lady Olenna scoffed. "What a disgrace. A firstborn son without magic? I'd suggest sending him to a monastery."
His father shot her a look that made her go silent, but the damage was done. Lucian wanted to disappear, to fade into the background where no one could see him.
His mother, however, did not hesitate. She stepped between him and the crowd, her emerald eyes sharp as daggers.
"That is enough," she said, her voice calm yet commanding. "Lucian is still my son, and he will be treated with respect."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him close. It was the only warmth he felt in that cold, suffocating moment.
The priest, perhaps sensing the tension, cleared his throat. "The boy's fate is not yet written. There have been cases of mana awakening later in life."
"Or never," Sophia muttered under her breath.
Lucian flinched. He knew what she meant. If he never awakened magic, he would be nothing. No power, no status, no future.
His father turned to leave without a word, his expression unreadable. He didn't even look at Lucian. That hurt more than anything.
Lucian's hands trembled at his sides. He clenched them into fists. He wasn't sure if it was anger, shame, or something else entirely.
"Come, Lucian," his mother whispered.
She led him away from the whispers and judgmental stares, guiding him through the corridors of their estate. When they finally reached her private chambers, she shut the door behind them and knelt before him.
He couldn't meet her gaze. "Mother, I—"
She cupped his face gently. "Listen to me, Lucian. Your worth is not determined by mana."
He wanted to believe her. He really did. But in Solmara, those words meant nothing.
She sighed, brushing a strand of his dark hair aside. "Your father will need time to process this. It is a difficult thing for him."
Lucian swallowed hard. "He's ashamed of me."
"No." Her voice was firm. "He is disappointed in what this means for our family. That is not the same as being ashamed of you."
Lucian wasn't sure he agreed.
His mother stood and smoothed out her gown. "There is something else you need to know."
He finally looked at her. "What?"
"The Emperor's emissaries arrived this morning."
Lucian stiffened. The Emperor?
"The king himself will be visiting your father in two days. I'll need you to be on your best behaviour."
His stomach twisted. As if things weren't bad enough.
Lucian had a terrible feeling that things were only going to get worse.