An Overture in Contempt

Men are so simple and yield so readily to the desires of the moment that he who will trick will always find another who will suffer himself to be tricked.

— Niccolò Machiavelli

———

The Grand Cathedral of Awakening was a monument to divine arrogance, its twin spires clawing at the morning sky as if trying to drag the heavens down to earth. Stained glass windows the size of manor walls cast fractured rainbows across the cobblestone approach, each panel depicting scenes of legendary awakenings from years past. The air itself seemed to vibrate with accumulated mana, making my teeth ache and the fresh scar on my chest pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat.

The stage is set, the audience is gathering, and I'm about to walk into the lion's den wearing a sheep costume. At least the sheep has claws.

"Master?" Lyra's voice carried the perfect note of nervous uncertainty as she adjusted the simple leather satchel containing my "necessities"—mostly props to reinforce my helpless image. "Perhaps we should wait a moment longer? You look quite pale."

I let my shoulders tremble slightly, making sure the nearby nobles could see my apparent distress. "I'm fine, Lyra. Just... nervous. What if I embarrass myself? What if the ceremony doesn't work properly for someone like me?"

The whispers started immediately, carried on the cathedral steps like wildfire through dry grass.

"Is that really Kaelen Leone? He looks ready to faint."

"Poor girl, father says the Leone house is barely above bankruptcy these days."

"Remember when he set Lady Thornfield's dress on fire? At least this time there's stone everywhere."

I hunched my shoulders and kept my gaze fixed on the cathedral steps, letting my black hair fall forward to partially obscure my face.

The massive oak doors, each one carved with spiraling runes that pulsed with their own inner light, stood open to reveal the cathedral's interior. Inside, hundreds of candles floated freely through the air, their flames dancing in patterns that formed constantly shifting mandalas of light. The ceiling disappeared into shadow far above, giving the impression that we were stepping into a cavern that extended all the way to the stars.

The original novel spent three pages describing this place. I remember thinking it was over-the-top fantasy nonsense. Turns out, if anything, the author undersold it.

As we crossed the threshold, I felt the Rune of Diminishment respond to the cathedral's ancient wards, its carved lines growing warm against my skin. The sensation was like wearing a lead blanket that only I could feel, dampening not just my magical signature but somehow making me less... noticeable. Even my footsteps seemed quieter, my shadow less distinct.

The great houses had arranged themselves throughout the cathedral's nave with the careful choreography of a court dance. Each family claimed their traditional section, their colors and banners creating a patchwork of political allegiances that told the story of the kingdom's power structure better than any textbook.

House Valerius commanded the prime position near the altar, their blue and gold banners catching the candlelight. Leo stood at their center, and seeing him in person again reminded me why the original author had made him the protagonist.

No wonder the original Kaelen resented him so much. Standing next to Leo must feel like being a candle next to the sun.

"Master Kaelen." The voice belonged to Marcus Blackwood, Marcel's younger brother, a boy about my age with the same sharp features but none of the political acumen. He approached with two other minor nobles, all of them wearing expressions of barely contained amusement. "How... unexpected to see you here. I thought perhaps your family might have reconsidered after your recent... difficulties."

"I—well, Father insisted. Said it was important for the family name, even if I'm not... that is, even if I might not..." I trailed off, letting them fill in the implications themselves.

"Of course, of course." Marcus exchanged glances with his companions, clearly enjoying himself. "I'm sure you'll do fine. After all, the ceremony works for everyone, doesn't it? Even if the results are... modest."

"Indeed." This came from a girl I didn't immediately recognize, though her emerald dress and the serpent pin at her throat marked her as House Morgenthorne. "I heard your maid is quite capable, though. Perhaps she could help you remember how to use a sword."

The laughter that followed was soft, cultured, and absolutely vicious. I ducked my head and mumbled something about needing to find my assigned spot.

As we moved deeper into the cathedral, I caught sight of Lucius holding court near the Leone family banners. He'd positioned himself perfectly to be visible from multiple angles, his dark blue doublet tailored to emphasize his broader shoulders and confident bearing.

"Young Leone!" The voice boomed across the cathedral with enough volume to make several conversations stop mid-sentence. Aldwin, the academy's Deputy Headmaster, approached with the kind of smile that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else. He was a thin man with prematurely gray hair and robes that seemed too large for his slight frame, giving him the appearance of a child playing dress-up in his father's clothes.

"Headmaster," I managed, offering a shaky bow that was just awkward enough to be memorable. "Thank you for allowing me to attend. I know my academic record isn't... that is, I understand if there were concerns..."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Aldwin waved away my words, though his eyes held the flat politeness of someone fulfilling an unpleasant obligation. "Every young noble deserves their chance at awakening, regardless of... previous difficulties. I'm sure you'll find your place at the academy."

Behind Aldwin, I spotted a cluster of academy instructors observing the proceedings. Professor Blackthorne from Combat Applications stood like a granite statue, his scarred hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the crowd with the calculating gaze of a man who'd spent decades turning soft noble children into competent fighters. Beside him, Professor Delacroix from Theoretical Foundations appeared lost in thought, her silver hair twisted into an elaborate bun held in place by what looked like crystallized mana.

The faculty. The people who'll be deciding my fate for the next few years. Blackthorne already looks like he's mentally sorting us into "might survive" and "cannon fodder" categories. Delacroix seems more interested in the magical resonances than the students themselves.

"Your attendant seems well-trained," Aldwin observed, glancing at Lyra with the kind of casual assessment reserved for useful furniture. "The academy appreciates students who come prepared for independent living."

Lyra bobbed a perfect curtsy. "Thank you, sir. I do my best to ensure Master Kaelen's needs are met."

The slight emphasis on 'needs' was brilliant—just enough to suggest I required more help than most, without being so obvious as to seem intentional. Several nearby nobles exchanged knowing looks, and I saw more than one sympathetic glance directed at Lyra.

A bell chimed somewhere high in the cathedral's shadows, its tone resonant enough to make the floating candles dance. Conversations died as everyone turned toward the altar, where Archbishop Valdris had appeared as if materializing from the candlelight itself. He was an elderly man whose white robes seemed to glow with their own inner radiance, and when he raised his hands, the very air seemed to listen.

"Young nobles of Aethelgard," his voice carried easily through the vast space without seeming to echo, each word arriving with crystalline clarity. "Today you stand at the threshold between who you were and who you might become. The ancient rite of awakening will reveal the gifts that sleep within your souls, the powers that will shape your destinies and define your service to the realm."

The Archbishop gestured, and the floating candles began to move, forming complex patterns in the air above our heads. The light they cast shifted from warm yellow to cool blue, then to silver, then to colors I didn't have names for. The mana in the air grew thicker, more tangible, until I could feel it pressing against my skin like warm honey.

"One by one, you will approach the Awakening Stone. Place your hand upon its surface, open your heart to the magic that flows through all things, and let the truth of your nature be revealed. Some among you will discover the gift of healing, others the power of destruction. Some will find their strength in the manipulation of the elements, others in the mysteries of the mind."

Valdris's gaze swept across the assembled nobles, and for just a moment, I could have sworn his eyes lingered on me longer than necessary. "Remember, young ones—power without wisdom is destruction, wisdom without power is helplessness, and both without compassion are mere tools of tyranny. Whatever gifts you receive today, use them in service of something greater than yourselves."

The first name called was, predictably, "Leo von Valerius."

Of course. Start with the golden boy, set the standard impossibly high, then watch everyone else struggle to measure up. Classic protagonist treatment.

Leo stepped forward with the kind of easy confidence that made it seem like he was strolling through his own garden rather than approaching an ancient ritual that would determine his future. His boots clicked against the marble floor in a steady rhythm that somehow managed to sound both respectful and utterly self-assured.

The Awakening Stone itself was a massive crystal formation that rose from the cathedral floor like a frozen waterfall, its surface shifting between transparency and opacity in patterns that hurt to follow. When Leo placed his palm against its surface, the entire cathedral held its breath.

Light erupted from the stone—not the gentle glow of the floating candles, but something fierce and pure and warm enough to make the air shimmer. Golden radiance poured from the crystal, forming complex geometric patterns that hung in the air like divine calligraphy before slowly fading to reveal Leo's awakened status.

"Radiant Paladin," Archbishop Valdris announced, his voice carrying a note of genuine awe. "Rank A. A blessing of light and protection, granted to those destined to stand as shields against the darkness."

The cathedral erupted in whispers and exclamations. House Valerius looked smug enough to power a small city, while other families exchanged glances that ranged from envious to calculating. Leo himself accepted the congratulations with gracious humility, as if awakening a class that maybe one person per generation achieved was just another Tuesday for him.

And now comes the parade of lesser mortals, each one trying not to look too disappointed when their perfectly respectable B-rank or C-rank awakening pales in comparison to golden boy's divine blessing. The ceremony's barely started and already the power dynamics are crystallizing like frost on a window.

Name after name was called. Elena Morgenthorne awakened as a Frost Enchantress, her ice-blue magic creating delicate patterns in the air that drew appreciative murmurs. Gareth Stoneheart became a Mountain Guardian, his earth-based abilities causing small tremors that made the cathedral's stones hum in harmony.

Each awakening was a small performance, a moment where a young noble's future crystallized into something concrete. Some smiled with genuine joy, others hid disappointment behind polite facades, and a few looked genuinely shocked by what they'd received.

Finally, Archbishop Valdris's voice rang out across the cathedral: "Kaelen Leone."

I felt every eye in the building turn toward me, some curious, some amused, some openly waiting for entertainment. My legs trembled—only partly from acting—as I made my way toward the Awakening Stone, Lyra following at the appropriate distance like a shadow tethered to a failing light.

Showtime. Let's see if PlotHoleFinder69 knew what he was talking about, or if I'm about to publicly humiliate myself in front of the most powerful families in the kingdom.

Either way, there's no backing out now.