Three days passed since our visit to the fiefdom's village. My father, contrary to his usual dedication to seigniorial duties, decided to grant himself a few days of rest to enjoy family time. Although a part of me thought he should perhaps prioritize the recovery of the ailing inhabitants, I cannot deny how much I appreciated this precious family time.
Taking advantage of this rare break in our routine, I decided to clarify some doubts that persistently occupied my thoughts.
— Father, what exactly does it mean to be an Arcane Baronet? — I inquired with genuine curiosity.
He looked at me with evident surprise, clearly trying to understand how a child my age already showed interest in such specific noble terminologies. Noticing his bewilderment, my mother promptly intervened:
— I explained to him how we met, the circumstances of our marriage... and I also mentioned your commendation as an Arcane Baronet.
— Ah, I see... — He paused briefly, reflectively, then gave a slightly sarcastic smile and joked: — So you reported how exceptionally masculine I was, of remarkable beauty and a bearing nobler than that of dukes themselves?
My mother responded with an equally ironic smile, but one filled with affection:
— Precisely.
He then turned to me, assuming a more serious and thoughtful expression:
— Perhaps it is still a bit premature for you to fully comprehend these social complexities. It is possible that, with the passing of years, you may end up forgetting this conversation.
He inhaled deeply before continuing:
— However, there is no problem. If you eventually forget, I will be pleased to explain again.
He rose with determination, went to his office, and returned carrying a leather-bound tome. He carefully leafed through some pages until he stopped at an illustration displaying a relatively simple coat of arms, adorned in gold and silver, surrounded by meticulously inscribed arcane symbols.
— Here it is — he indicated, pointing to the image with precision. — An Arcane Baronet represents the initial level among nobles officially recognized as "bearers of institutionalized arcane power." This means that it is not enough to merely possess knowledge of the arcane arts... it is imperative to have accomplished something of considerable magnitude for the Kingdom to formally recognize such merit.
— Like, for example... the conquest of a fiefdom? — I asked, showing increasing interest.
He nodded affirmatively.
— Exactly. I received this distinction after the conclusion of the war against the Kingdom of Alafia. I managed, with limited resources, to defend two strategic villages without additional assistance, maintained a front line with fewer than a hundred men... and, most significantly, defeated in single combat an arcane practitioner classified at the Roar level. Such feats naturally attracted the attention of the Crown. In recognition, I was granted this modest fiefdom and the corresponding title of Arcane Baronet.
— So that was the main reason for grandfather's indignation when you formalized your engagement?
— Among various other factors — he replied, allowing himself a brief moment of relaxation.
My mother rolled her eyes with an amused expression, sketching a discreet smile as she sat beside me.
— The reality, Elian, is that many members of the traditional nobility show deep displeasure when they observe people of common origin ascending socially, even when such ascent occurs through undeniable merit. Your father, before the events of the war, was merely a knight without hereditary distinctions. However, his exceptional skill with the sword... and his remarkable aptitude for the arcane arts... constitute talents rarely found even among nobles of ancestral lineage.
My father, visibly uncomfortable with the compliments received, ran his hand through his hair in a characteristic gesture and added:
— Bearing the title of Arcane Baronet implies significant responsibilities. I report directly to the authority of the Crown, assume fiscal, military, and arcane obligations. I must provide adequate training to promising young people of the fiefdom, constantly maintain active territorial arcane defenses, and ensure strict observance of the Kingdom's laws within our jurisdiction.
He paused significantly, gave me a penetrating look, and smiled with genuine wisdom:
— However, what truly matters, Elian, is not the title itself, but the use made of the power conferred. A title devoid of honor resembles a sword without an edge. It serves only as an object of empty ostentation.
He then continued his explanation, after examining some additional pages of the compendium:
— In the hierarchical structure of the Arcane Nobility, there are titles that, unlike traditional ones, are not transmitted by inheritance, but earned through personal sacrifice, extraordinary effort, and proven mastery of the arcane arts.
He indicated a detailed illustration that presented various symbols and coats of arms of ancestral appearance:
— The first step in this hierarchy is precisely the Arcane Baronet. This distinction is granted to those who reach the Flame Level in arcane potential and render services of unquestionable relevance to the kingdom — particularly in the defense of its strategic territories. It was through this path that I obtained my current title.
He made a brief interruption, his gaze momentarily distant, as if mentally revisiting the battlefields of the past.
— Immediately above is the Arcane Baron. This distinction requires, at minimum, mastery of the Flame Level, but is usually granted exclusively to those who reach the Roar and obtain decisive victories in wartime contexts. It represents a commendation of direct royal origin, associated with deeds that significantly alter the course of important military confrontations.
Carefully turning the next page, he continued his exposition:
— Viscount of Essence. This is a particularly rare title, reserved for practitioners who demonstrate full mastery of the Storm Level. They are arcanists who assume the protection of territories of fundamental strategic importance and contribute to the stability of the kingdom through their powerful presence.
— The Marquis of Flow occupies the subsequent position. For this distinction, the mere possession of arcane power is not enough — proven command ability is required. Generally, only those who have led military campaigns with exceptional results and demonstrated mastery in both arcane arts and military strategy are considered worthy of this title.
He then stopped with particular attention on the next page, where a remarkably imposing coat of arms was displayed:
— The Arcane Archduke... This title approaches almost the legendary realm. It requires the practitioner to have reached the extraordinary Ascension Level. This distinction is exceptionally rare and grants its bearer practically absolute autonomy over extensive territorial regions. Although formally subordinate to royal authority, they govern with almost sovereign prerogatives.
Finally, he closed the book with a deliberately slow movement:
— And, transcending all previous ones, there is the Guardian of the Crown. This is not a distinction obtained exclusively through arcane power — it constitutes a direct and personal appointment by the monarch himself. It represents the delicate balance between the Arcane Nobility and the institution of Royalty itself. It functions simultaneously as an offensive and defensive instrument of the throne.
He fixed his gaze directly on mine, conveying firmly:
— These titles are not mere honorary designations, Elian. Each of them embodies responsibilities of extraordinary magnitude. Being recognized as an Arcane Noble does not represent privilege — it constitutes a sacred duty before the kingdom.
— So, even possessing such considerable powers, we are still not fully accepted by the so-called Pure-Blood Nobility? — I questioned, striving to understand the intricate layers of pride and tradition that permeated the world to which I now belonged, but whose nuances I had not yet fully assimilated.
My father closed the book with a soft, characteristic click, placing it on the table with gestures that denoted a certain solemnity. His gaze, still partially fixed on the representation of the Archduke, acquired a perceptible hardness.
— Precisely. For them, ancestral lineage remains the supreme value. — He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in a reflective posture. — It matters little if an Arcanist ascends to the highest levels of power through their own soul and extraordinary effort. From the perspective of the Pure-Bloods, such an achievement remains intrinsically inferior to what they call "birthright."
My mother, who until that moment had remained a silent observer of our conversation, intervened with a serene voice, yet one laden with truth:
— Many of them still consider us unsettling anomalies. As if the arcane gift represented an inherently unstable, potentially dangerous, fundamentally unpredictable gift. Something that should be an object of scientific study, kept under constant vigilance... and never dignified with titles of royal origin.
My father confirmed with a brief affirmative nod.
— When I officially received the appointment as Arcane Baronet, there was no lack of protests. Anonymous correspondence filled with veiled threats. Explicit looks of disapproval during all official audiences. The formal recognition originated from the sovereign, but the contempt emanated directly from the court.
— But you saved two entire communities! You preserved the lives of hundreds of innocent subjects! — I exclaimed, feeling genuine indignation at such injustice.
He sketched a smile, but it was an evidently bitter smile, devoid of true joy.
— Unfortunately, heroic acts do not always carry more weight than an ancestral surname.
A dense and significant silence settled between us.
He then leaned slightly forward, his gaze intensely fixed on mine:
— It is precisely for this reason that you need to understand deeply, Elian. Our nature fundamentally differs from theirs. We do not receive respect simply by virtue of our birth. We earn respect through our concrete actions. And this necessarily implies that we must accomplish more, endure greater trials... and never show submission.
— And if I eventually manage to reach the extraordinary Ascension level? — I inquired, my voice deliberately low, yet unwavering in its firmness.
He looked at me with a special sparkle in his eyes — something that blended paternal pride and a subtle melancholy.
— In that case, they will be forced to recognize the Freimann name. Regardless of their will.
— Either they will respect us for merit... or they will fear us for power. — my mother added, in an apparently serene tone, but one imbued with profound meaning.
— So absolutely all nobles belonging to the Pure-Blood category reject our legitimacy? — I questioned, feeling a growing indignation within me.
My father, giving me a penetrating and incisive look, replied with precision:
— Not necessarily. It is undeniable that a significant majority maintains this discriminatory stance, however, there are exceptions... a certain faction within the Pure-Blood Nobility itself that shows sympathy for our cause.
He paused reflectively, reopened the book, and stopped at a specific page displaying a particularly elaborate coat of arms. Then he continued:
— Our fiefdom is located in territory administered by a count who does not share this ingrained prejudice. — He turned the book towards me and indicated the coat of arms represented: a sword enveloped by flames and lightning, surmounted by a majestic eagle, with wheat ears harmoniously framing the entire symbolic ensemble.
— Our county is currently under the administration of House Stein. It wasn't always like this, but several years have passed since they assumed governmental control of this region.
— Who governed the territory previously? — I inquired, showing natural curiosity.
— This information will be revealed to you at the appropriate time. It is not yet opportune. — He briefly narrowed his eyes, in a gesture that suggested the existence of a past laden with complexities. — But, returning to the central point: not all Pure-Blood Nobles exhibit prejudiced attitudes. The members of House Stein, besides legitimately belonging to the Pure-Blood category, also cultivate traditionalist values regarding the Arcane Arts.
— Now that you mentioned this aspect... what fate awaits the descendants of Pure-Blood families who are naturally born with arcane talents?
— These are fully accepted into their circle. They constitute the welcome exception to the general rule. Their prejudice is directed specifically against those who do not bear the distinctive "Von" in their nomenclature.
"Von?" — I reflected internally, slightly furrowing my brow in an expression of doubt.
My father, attentively observing my reaction, noticed my questioning expression. Then he clarified:
— All legitimate members of the Pure-Blood Nobility incorporate the element "Von" as an integral component of their name. It is a title of ancestral origin, which symbolizes the uninterrupted purity of their lineage. This is precisely the element that establishes the formal distinction between them and us. To exemplify: Count Albert Von Stein — this is the full name of the current count who administers our territorial region.
He closed the book with a deliberately slow and conclusive movement.
— Being recognized as an Arcanist, regardless of the level of power one may eventually achieve, is still considered a condition that requires constant proof of merit. However, this reality has never constituted an impediment to our legitimate ascent, Elian. Absolutely never.
And at that significant moment, even still inhabiting a child's body, I understood with surprising clarity: carrying the potential of the arcane arts simultaneously represented a considerable burden and a flame of possibilities. But, transcending these dimensions — it fundamentally constituted a promise of transformation