Mona pressed on towards the room hosting the main event. Knowing his father was expecting him, he spared little attention to the various attendants making their way around the building, some finishing up cleaning on the upper floors, others serving refreshments and aiding guests to pass the time in conversation. As Mona strode past, a few would take notice and resume their chatter with the attendant at hand. If one watched them closely, a glint of mockery was visible in their eyes, quietly disappearing as it arose.

At the entrance to the main hall stood an attendant keeping watch, the head butler of the whole establishment. Through his skills, he orchestrated every detail of this event to be flawless and timely, down to the moment Mona appeared before him, asking where was the city lord. After tidying his own clothing once more, he allowed Mona to pass.

Mona took notice of the large room. It wasn't his first time being here, but the room was rarely used at all, so he couldn't remember exactly why it was used then.

The walls were polished, as was the floor, giving a vague reflection of those that tread on its surface. Chandeliers were lit at their candles, giving more than enough light to see everything in the grand hall. Tables and chairs were set to surround the the elevated stage, upon which was a dignified throne and a smaller seat nearby. The left wall featured glass windows, elegantly crafted and set in place. The moon stood in the sky, hidden behind clouds aloft in the starry sky.

Mona stood in the center of the room, taking in the whole view. Today was his final appearance in noble society. Partly choice and partly by force, he was grateful the leering gazes would finally come to an end. Ever since his diagnosis of no skill, his own place among the upper echelons sank to the very bottom. Status was everything, and being born without talent in any skill was lower than common folk, persons who at least had innate skill in cooking or agriculture. So terrible his luck, in fact, that few approached him with friendship in tow. His abnormality was feared to be contagious.

The clothing Mona wore changed slightly in color. Its terrible appearance improved naturally, the holes gone and its color a pale silver. It became comfortable as moon slowly shone more on it. Even the smell the dress carried had largely vanished, to Mona's happiness.

Mona checked his pocket watch, eyeing the minute hand carefully. 12 minutes left, he noted. The sound of chattering guests echoed into the hall. Servants appeared into the hall from strategically placed doors, lining up near the door all the way to the throne. From behind Mona, the sound of a door shutting could be heard.

As Mona turned around, his eyes focused on the figure now seated on the regal throne. In his hands has a scroll, upon which careful attention was being given. His face glowed with tension, an arc across his brow as the figure checked a small time piece on his wrist and then back to the paper carefully. His clothing, although that of a servant, retained a distinctive badge, a war hammer crafted from stainless steel. Occasionally its outline glistened, a faint sense of power seeping outwards.

"Oscar." The figure rolled up the aging scroll and carefully placed it inside his coat pocket. He got up and began inspecting his clothing, taking time to smooth out a few uneven folds and ridges. Finally, his gaze fell upon Mona, a false smile on his lips.

"Mona, its approaching time. Your father is making his way here through the secret entrance," Oscar gestured towards a wooden panel behind the throne. Barely visible was a handle in the very area Oscar pointed to. Oscar silently gazed on the cloak of Aurum, the family heirloom. Firstborns went through the rite of adulthood donning the cloak of the first Aurum. Rumor had it that bearing the cloth erased a weakness of the wearer.

Oscar could verify this. Being the head of staff among all the attendants, as well as a decently ranked adventurer, his lifespan was long enough to see now three Aurums go through the rite of passage. Although his hair was growing grey, his skill at organization only grew more detailed, let alone his memory. He knew personally that the city lord of Eshwin once was a hesitant fellow, or at least he was before his rite of adulthood.

The secret panel behind the throne room began to glow white, yet not emit much light. After about a few seconds, the door returned to its wizened state. In front of the door stood an aging fellow in noble wear, his beard trimmed to a stubble, his eyes sharp and penetrating. Along his rigid stature and height, his right arm wore a gauntlet made of bronze and steel, churning ever so quietly. Mona's gaze softened on this figure, on his father.

Oscar quietly made his way to the city lord, the scroll back in his hands. After a brief moment of light conversation, Oscar's figure disappeared behind the doors to the main hall. Mona listened as Oscar quieted the hall, announcing the remaining time left for the event.

"Mona, come here," Mona's father gestured, for his son to come to him, right arm beckoning him closer. Mona quickly sat down by his father in the specially crafted chair beside him. Facing towards the entrance, his father muttered quietly, "Stay cautious towards the nobility, Mona..." The city lord paused his words, then resumed. "And give them no reason to feel superior."

Mona's gaze shifted to his father for a second, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. Was someone of significance appearing? No, that couldn't be. Who would come to a mortal's ceremony to bring trouble? What would they gain?

Mona contemplated deeply, remembering the guest list to the event, trying to determine who could his father be pointing to. Eventually he gave up. What use was it knowing this late? As this thought flashed through his mind, Oscar ushered the servants to open the doorway to the main hall. Servants walked to and fro, lighting candles on various tables, adjusting silverware and seats. Oscar called out the names of lords and ladies, barons and baronesses, among many others. Accompanying each person to their seat were attendants nearby, exchanging pleasantries with their guests and others appearing with meals.

Banter and light humor filled the halls of the Aurum manor, giving rise to a hospitable atmosphere that only grew. But Mona clearly could tell, those mocking gazes had yet to tire. Mingling among the crowd, the nobles which rivaled the Aurum family found joy in speaking about Mona's condition, about the supposed fall of the Aurum bloodline as one and another Aurum succumbed to the disease of mortal talent.

Mona's father took notice of those gazes, his face growing cold to the gawking nobles mixed among friends and acquaintances. His gaze focused on a specific few, the few that were orchestrating the whole act from group to group. Although he could claim many present as his friends and allies, their numbers were matched by those indifferent to or joyous of Mona's mortal existence. Not inviting them was a sign of offence, and inviting them only brought upon such a situation.

Signorus Aurum, as the city lord of Eshwin, had great prestige in the surrounding lands, due to his bloodline and skill in cultivation. With his title as city lord, this was the maximum he could reduce the provocations by the other party. Mona understood this very well.

Eventually the majority of the guests were seated. Thanks to Oscar, the problematic few were well separated from one another, confined to tables of people with at best indifference to them. Servants continued to move from table to table, guiding the last few guests to their seating arrangements.

Oscar stood near the entrance, announcing the names of each noble, taking notice to emphasize the names of those Signorus has favorable relations with.

"Welcome, Admiral Raven..." Oscar's voice rippled throughout the hall, ushering a total silence. Such was the capabilities of Leafwinder's military members. Each were skilled in their own right, knighted by Leafwinder royalty, and made nobles along with their families. Let alone an admiral from an ancient military family. Few knew how deep their roots were, fewer dared to fight such an existence.

Raven was cautious, taking note of his surroundings ever so cautiously. Training and war shaped his attitude greatly. Only the senior generation knew of the youth before he became Raven. Signorus sighed at the memories of their shared youth, and how different they became. At the very least, Raven forgot not his friends from his life. Everyone else received a deathly glare.

As Raven took his seat, he took a glance at Mona. Who knew where his thoughts were going. The guests at the table edged away from the glacier seated among them. His presence ruined their conversation.

Oscar signaled the doors to close, his guest list stowed away in his coat pocket. The two guards quietly pushed the door to close. The attendants began to take note of the guests at each table. Dinner was to proceed soon. Mona and his father rose from their thrones and made their way to a table, elongated along the room with seats for six. Mona's gaze fell on the chair to his left and his father's right.

His mother died ages ago in a great fire, and his sister died in her sleep. Without talent, mortality would take lives, be they among the poor or privileged. Only through cultivation could one fight back against time. Sadly Mona was currently destined to death before his father.

Mona was jolted awake by the sound of neighing. Servants were in chaos outside of the hall. Oscar quickly left out the servant door towards the hall, trying to find the cause.

The crowds were wondering who would come late. Signorus thought back to the guest list Oscar showed him, trying to remember who would come late. Mona was in his thoughts, his mother's visage fresh in his memory. How he missed her...

The doors opened once again, surprise momentarily visible in Oscar's eyes. His breathing has heavy, as he had dashed back and forth. Oscar made his way to Signorus, whispering in his ear in a hushed manner. The crowd observed shock and joy flash across the face of the city lord as Oscar finished speaking.

The sound of footsteps echoed into the hall. The two sets of noises approached ever closer to the entrance, Oscar matching the pace as he stood near the door.

"So what if he is of the Aurum bloodline, Grandfather. He's a shame to the bloodline," the voice of a young man slowly became clear.

Signorus's visage became grim. Anger was evident in his brow.