Aurel MercerPeople like to say Lumineth is where the power sits. On the surface, that's true. Lumineth is the capital of Valecis Isle, where the provincial governor keeps his seat, where the machinery of government is maintained, where the main knight order of the south makes its home. What they fail to understand is the Western Cliffs. In the city of Caelvaris, on the western part of the island, my estate overlooks the sea. That is where I, Aurel Mercer, reside. And that is where the power lies.The house ran like a perfectly executed Arcanum spell array.It had been built for that, though the original owner lacked vision. Comfort was present but secondary, a byproduct of the wealth and position that produced it. The Technica and Arcanum woven through the construct of my home were nothing short of miraculous. Even the royal family in Aurelion Prime, in their palace at Winterland, was hardly better protected than I was.I moved through my property. The inner doors answered to presence without hesitation, the staff held their routes without crossing one another's paths, and the security rotations kept to a rhythm that never drifted. Even the lighting had been engineered into the structure, settling across floor and wall in a way that erased shadow without announcing the effort behind it.Everything carried the structural soundness that befit my power and prestige. As it should. It had not always been like this. There had been a time when those of "noble" birth looked down on me, certain that a bloodline, a lineage, made them better than me. Me. How could any of them be better than me?They learned the hard way that they were not.My origins did not matter. I was treated now with the respect I had earned, and that was the point.I stood at my desk longer than I needed to, the report open in front of me, my attention less on its contents than on the shape of the consequences they represented.I was more (...)