In a grand villa, somewhat secluded from the hubbub of the city of Eidyn, a line of engine carriages was parked in its vast courtyard. A crowd of people—most of them with fiery red hair and eyes—stepped into the palace of worldly luxury one by one.

Going deeper, the members of the Crimsonmane family were having a dinner party. Leith and his father, Donar, also attended the family event. While delighting themselves with royal and festive dishes, each of them exchanged conversations and joked with each other. Donar was enjoying the banquet while conversing with grown men and women about government, politics, and other boring, complicated matters that a young lad like Leith didn't care about. Leith preferred to mingle with other youths to talk about the imagination of juveniles. Not infrequently, they flirted and teased the girls present there. Absurd, considering they were also part of the clan. But it was wise to let the guys have their fun.

When the relatives were busy socialising, one of them tapped a wineglass with his spoon, asking for attention from the other kins. The lively atmosphere turned silent in an instant. Everyone knew very well what the meaning of that sign was. Those seated rose from their chairs, one by one walking in a line, heading for the door leading to the basement, picking up scarlet robes with a pointed hood next to it before descending the stairs into a narrow passage.

"Seriously, why don't just go straight into the room without wearing the dress, anyway? This makes me feel like a part of an ancient cult!" muttered Leith who felt strange wearing old-fashioned robes like a strange geek secret society.

"Shhh!" whispered the person who heard his muttering from the front, who turned out to be his father.

The hallways they walked were accompanied by mint green torch-shaped lights mounted on its left and right walls. After a while, they arrived at a large room filled with various kinds of books, magic artifacts, and more. This room was a storehouse of family knowledge, which was also used to hold conferences regarding problems and disputes of the Crimsonmane clan. The ceiling of the room was a circular dome, with a mural comprising wizards in the same robes as them and a burly, red horse with flaming eyes posing mezair behind the wizards. At the front end, there was a mini bar set. On the far right, there were several soft sofas, a pool table, and a collection of board games neatly arranged in a cupboard. Besides studying and giving speeches, the elite Crimsonmane children utilised this hall to spend their leisure time.

They gathered in the middle of the spacious room and took seats at a long oval conference table, fitted for thirty people. Those who did not get one stood or sat in the nearest chair they could reach. They all took off their hoods. An elderly man, apparently the patriarch of all the members of the Crimsonmane family—Alasdair was his name—opened the meeting by singing the Crimsonmane shibboleth in the Roman language.

"Nos sunt in igne ferrum divinae!"

"Ut silentium divina perducat, ut per stampedes!" replied the other Crimsonmanes.

"My children! My brothers and sisters! I express my deep gratitude to all the members of the Crimsonmane family, for accepting our sudden invitation."

After a momentary pause, Alasdair continued his oration. "My fellow Crimsonmanes! I summoned you because not long ago, we stumbled across a journal. Not from our storehouse of knowledge, but from the Camelot headquarters of Magisterium of Arcane Plane."

Someone came to give the journal to Alasdair. "Then what makes this journal so important?" One man in his 30s, Ulysses Crimsonmane, asked Alasdair, who was sitting close to him.

"This journal,"—He held the journal up—"It's not an ordinary journal. We didn't steal it from the archives of the Magisterium. We found this when the Magisterium itself gave us the remains of one of its distinguished members."

One of the distinguished members of the Magisterium. Who was that person? How significant was the Magisterium's honourable man that the family elder himself dared to interrupt other's affair? Significant enough that the eyes in the room began to focus on the figure of Donar Crimsonmane, who still wore a calm, even face. In contrast to Leith, who stood away from the conference table, he was disturbed because his peers were ogling him.

'So this is why they called papa and me to a meeting after a long schism? Clipe, I hope it has nothing to do with that Trinketshore nerd!' he thought.

"This journal belongs to our beloved relatives, daughter, sister, wife, Ailsa Crimsonmane."

Some still looked at Donar, and some spoke in whispers. Donar remained with his petulant face.

"If I may ask, father," said Donar, started to make a sound. "What does Ailsa have anything to do with the journal she kept? I assume there's something in the journal that might affect the fate of our family to where you called us here."

"Exactly, as expected of an intelligent son-in-law like you!" said Alasdair with his praise. "As you said, this journal does have something that can have an influence on the existence of the house of Crimsonmane. This journal is more like a travel journal as well as puzzle solving. From what we've learned, Ailsa seemed to research some old Camelot codex found throughout the continent of Europa, which then led to your hometown, Trinketshore." All the family members began to pay close attention to Alasdair's words.

The patriarch continued, "Perhaps that's the reason you moved to Trinketshore? Ailsa left us a clue in that small town and pinned the place as an important location. The last thing she mentions in her book is that she was investigating the tomb of Languoreth and other ancient sites there to solve a riddle that will open a path to something very particular. Way more particular that the wizards of Camelot, or even all of Europa, are willing to kill each other to get it."

"What do you mean, father?" asked Donar. his face changed to a curious one, followed by his other kins.

Alasdair revealed that particular thing, saying, "In the small town of Trinketshore hidden the source of the pure Arcane, waiting to be discovered."

Excitement erupted throughout the hall. Who would have thought that this small, forgotten town contained an extremely rare source of the strongest magic power? The meeting turned into a rowdy market.

Ulysses doubted the journal's validity and sought to defy it. "No, no, no, you cannae be serious, father, can ye? Did ye just believe the contents of the journal? Dinnae mean to offend, but maybe with all the feuds with our own house and the pressure from all 'directions'," Ulysses glanced at Donar for a moment, "Maybe she had... you know, father, gone mad, so—"

After hearing Ailsa being offended, the meeting room was in an uproar. The rest of the family started interrupting Ulysses, while the others defended him. The house of Crimsonmane split into two parties and fought each other, while the quiet Donar was the most humane amongst the wild horses. One cannot tell how many stoic books he had read that could maintain a state of peace in his mind.

"Hey, you shouldn't insult your own sister like that," said one of the Crimsonmane.

Ulysses, annoyed they cut his conversation, replied, "You! Can't you just shut up? I'm still talking to father!" And so on, they argued solely because of a single lady in their family.

Seeing the situation getting out of control, Alasdair smacked his hand against the table. His smacking was as loud as the roar of an explosion, enough to make them freeze instantly. Alasdair flashed his bulging eyes in warning before he closed them and exhaled. "Please continue, Ulysses."

"I'm just saying, Ailsa used to have a wild imagination since childhood and she often made up things. This one was nae different. She was experiencing pressure and stress from her family condition! So, she sought an escape by moving to Trinketshore and pretending to become a treasure hunter, circling the plains of Europa and then returning to her new home just to make it look as if she had hit the 'jackpot!', intrigued the other relatives."

The other relatives who honored Ailsa showed disdain for Ulysses' words, which implied the woman was in a questionable state of mental health. Even Donar put a serious face on Ulysses, knowing what he said was going beyond the barrier.

"She may be the best witch in the Crimsonmane family tree for centuries," he continued. "But just because she's a great mage doesn't mean she deserves the title of a professional archaeologist! I'm sure she acted on her own and didn't tell the Magisterium a penny, because she knew they would think she was crazy, like, come on! This is pure Arcane we're talking about! There is no pure Arcane source in any hemisphere other than in ​​the Eternal Empire! This was her coping mechanism, but not a healthful one."

"Trinketshore. Hmph," said Florence, Ulysses' wife, who sat next to him with her cynical demeanor. "Maybe she's not that crazy. Maybe she was making up a fairy tale under the guise of fiction. Here's my rational exposition: She was recounting her travels around the world in search of pure Arcane and finally found it at Trinketshore. And guess what? The pure Arcane actually was an allusion to one of her 'children', whose life is nowhere to be seen in this room! And guess what again, the journal was meant for that child as a birthday present! By the way, where is she right now?" In a low tone, Florence threw sarcasm at Donar. "What a dream family, always leaving their special child at Trinketshore alone!"

The entire audience returned to the uproar, but now, in confusion. Leith held back his anger at having been advised by his father. If no one had advised him, aunt Florence would have been found in a random alley of Eidyn with her head shattered, full of holes from being shot by magic.

"I thought you invited us here not to discuss about Alicia," answered Donar, still a calming gesture, while trying to remain his temper sealed.

"I didn't invite you to discuss your daughter. We made a promise to the Donar family, and once again you say inappropriate words at this meeting, I personally will not hesitate to slit your throats!" threatened Alisdair while pointing to the couples.

The ultimatum managed to silence Ulysses and his wife, almost biting their tongue due to the humiliation of the Crimsonmane patriarch himself in front of the entire clan.

"Ailsa did have an unorthodox way of thinking, but I have to admit that's what made her stand out from the rest of the Crimsonmane. She had solved many of the toughest cases of magic abuse her way. And this journal...," Alasdair slapped it onto the table. "Maybe this journal sounds like writing made up by an insane person, but that's only one of many possibilities. Alternatively, she might actually lead us to the source of the mighty blessing!"

One lady named Penelope asked the patriarch, "Could this journal have something to do with… her disappearance?"

Everyone in the room fell silent. Alasdair sighed, his expression slightly devastated. With all the conflicts experienced by Ailsa's small family with the entire house, Ailsa was one of the pride of the family, and perhaps for Alasdair, the child she loved so much, even though her daughter decided to rebel against the patriarch's will. Donar and Leith probably felt the same way.

"It's unlikely the case, considering her latest records say that the pure Arcane's existence was at Trinketshore, while Ailsa disappeared on an 'expedition' to another world," Alasdair replied.

"What do you want to do with that power once we obtain it?" asked Donar.

"The stability of the Land of Caledonia, the greater defence of the Camelot Kingdom, and strengthening of the position of the house of Crimsonmane," replied Alasdair. "We are living in an era of conflict all over the world. Imagine with the new Arcane source, we no longer need to depend on the Eternal Empire of Roma. We can strengthen Caledonia's military power, and better yet, people will depend on us. We can easily take over important government agencies. Nothing will ever stop us, Donar, not even the rival wizarding families who have been trying to get rid of us. They are the ones we will destroy first! We can build a better Caledonia. Camelot can become a powerful country on its own!"

A room full of Crimsonmanes showed a burning passion. Holding the greatest source of power ever existed could, of course, exert significant political influence and elevate the clan status in government. That meant they could advance their own interests and agendas in the political meddling of the Land of Caledonia, and of the Camelot Kingdom as a whole.

"Therefore, Donar," Alisdair continued. "I urge you to return to your wife's research at Trinketshore. Look for letters, documents, and other findings that may be in your house related to this journal. Do whatever is necessary to find the source of this power!"

"You immediately entrusted the mandate to me, father? I am a member of parliament. What makes you believe I will do this for the Crimsonmane's interests, not for the interests of the Caledonian government, or worse, my own?"

"Caledonia's interests are Crimsonmane's interests, as well as your personal interests," Alasdair said. "There's a reason why Ailsa chose you to be her soul mate. It's not just a feeling of deep love. You, who was originally a foreign wizard from an ordinary family, showed great interest in joining and serving the noble house of Crimsonmane. If Ailsa can entrust you to bear the Crimsonmane name, then I too must trust you that you will put family above all else."

Donar thought for a moment. Seeing Alasdair, he then stood up, accepting the task, saying, "I! Donar Crimsonmane! I am the Divine Horse of Fire!"

Alasdair stretched out his arms with a gentle smile, inviting the rest of the family to respond to Donar's statement in unison, "May the Silent Divine bring order through your stampede!" []