ShellFlare

It had been 15 years since Cygnus had left Auridon. When his parents were summoned to Cyrodill, the young Breton was forced to abandon his birthplace and childhood home to live in a sanctuary run the priestesses of Azura in Vvardenfel.

Cygnus walked through the front gates to the Manor located in Mathiisen, Auridon. The walls were tall, and he always assumed it was his parents way of showing just how grand they could be, but in recent times he had learned it was to make it near impossible to scale and infiltrate the Manor.

His parents were merchants to the normal public. They were masters of most craft, and experts in business. They had dealings with many, from nobles, to other trade companies, to some darker and shadier clients. However, they were known and built their wealth on their involvement in the Order, as they were a large export and creation center for Psijic Ambrosia, a rare and delicate potion that elevated growth and brought people closer to perfection.

Cygnus pushed on the large gate and entered the courtyard of the manor. The front yard was relatively small, but not actually small, just relatively. Eternally blooming and ever present in the yard were numerous pink blooming sakura trees. Their pink cherry blossoms contrasting the white marble that was everywhere on the house.

He decided to walk around the right pathway to the backyard before heading inside. The side walkways were nothing special, in fact other than the lovely blooms they were the dullest part of the house, but, they lead to what Cygnus longed for.

He stepped into the back yard and saw the staircases and climbed them. Before him was the beautiful round reflection pool, surrounded by intricate marble structures and tiles. It was breath taking and Cygnus felt as if he had never left. Gazing into the pool it was if he had just woken up from a long dream, he was still 5 years old and his parents were going to run out and grab him and drag him out of the cold morning back into the house so he wouldn’t get sick.

But that was just wishful thinking, the house just seemed so much the same and such like the home his heart knew. But really looking at the face in the reflection pool he saw his age, and he saw his 15 years of life away from his Flare family life. He was the heir to this. And to his family legacy, he must dedicate his time and life.

Merchants were not the true purpose of the Flares. They were more than renowned merchants with a lot of wealthy clients. They were the messengers of the blue collar world of crimes. They were the medium through which the underworld offered their services to nobles and merchants, and the way for the well-to-do to acquire what they could not have.

For the last two years, the schooling that Cygnus received at the Vvardenfel Sanctuary was very different. If the priestesses heard even one of his talks with his teachers they would have kicked them out onto the street or died from heart attacks.

When he became an adult he was approached by his parent’s contacts, for it was time for the Flare family to resume its duty. Without Cathrine and Alexander, Cygnus must step up, with the wealth and reputation of the family to speak for two very different parties.

Cygnus opened his front door. And stepped into a memory. The house had not changed, so much so he wondered if it was kept by some manner of enchantments. Later he found some Glyphs that bore the style not of the Mages Guild or any known official crafter, and realized his parents did indeed protect the house in a mystic way. Probably, he thought, it was the work of an Altmer from Auridon, for the elves were extremely known for their magical talents. He wondered though, if it could have actually been his own parents. The Breton were no pushovers when it came to studying the craft. Cygnus himself knew the basics of mending, creating motes of magelight, and enchanting. Things he was taught by Mages guild members while he stayed in the Sanctuary for the noble children. It was becoming a world where magic was no longer just for the elite. Yes, it still took time and effort to use, but the Guild had been doing a lot of work for the public.

Cygnus moved on throught he house, looking at the glyph preserved rooms that had stood still for years, he looked at the fires still burining, the clothes still drying and smelt the faint smell of provisons, not rotting but just there. It was his home. And just like anyone coming home after a long time, he went to his bed. It was a lot smaller than when he was 5, but he still fit in it well. He settled down for a rest and thought about his life, his days.

Growing up in Vvardenfel he was just like the other privileged children, going to a school receiving the special lessons in Magicka usage and special business lectures, no doubt arranged by his parents. He did well in these but he always felt that it was odd and hard to justify his parents bust schedules and strange clients with what he learned in business classes.

But when he came of age and started getting lessons from disguised thieves, cultists and company presidents, he learned his true job. The flares kept a delicate balance alive. More than anything, they handled the arrangements and protections that kept the underworld happy and content, while facilitating little chaos for the blue collars. The nobles could not get their hands dirty, but for money, there was always someone to handle a job.

Cygnus now had numerous contacts he had to meet with frequently to learn their roles in this new world and what each desired and gave to this network. Cygnus also noticed the true power of the Flares, nothing. They had connections to everyone and could get anything done, but one slip would leave them the unfortunate scapegoats of any kind of conspiracy.

He didn’t like this life very much, but it was what his parents would have done, and it was his job to upkeep the family legacy. At least until his parents return for Cyrodil. For they would return. They still lived, and if he could keep this network in balance it would only make things easier on the alliances to finish what they had to do, and then he could go back to something of a normal life.

But he was ready and he was working on his goals. He had already began the trades again and had integrated into the information network and was coordinating clients. Nobles wealth overpowered him easily, and the numbers of the underworld outclassed him by eons, but he alone sat at the center of this balance, and he alone could throw everything into chaos with a few simple misconceptions. He had power, yet he was also the prey of two powerful factions. He had to watch himself. He was mortal, very mortal and not even decent enough at mystic arts to protect himself. He would have to get someone to renew the enchantments around his house, and see what else they could do for security. Rouge factions who wanted the fall of nobles could easily kill him and stir up chaos among the underworld and the nobles, something that would be disaster for those normal civilians with much of the militia for every alliance fighting each other in Cyrodil.

It was time to keep the fire going, tending to the fire that warms and burns, as Cygnus Flare, son or Librarian Alexander and Mage Catherine.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

It was in his own backyard that Cygnus stood. It was early in the morning, the sun was just giving light to Nirn and the dew was still fresh on the foliage. Cygnus, only a small four year old Breton, stood in the warming rays, watching as the first light touched the large, round, ornate reflecting pool. It was a marble structure in the back yard of the Manor, where he loved to spend his time, despite his parents wanting to keep him inside.

Arms grabbed him and he was off the floor, “Ahhhhhh!” he screamed.

“Calm down,” it was just dad, he was caught, “Now aren’t you supposed to be in your bed, INSIDE the house, not out here in the cold?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, well maybe someone doesn’t want to come into town today to pick out cakes?”

“No! I’ll come, I’ll come!”

His father laughed, “Go on inside and wake up mama.”

“Okay,” Cygnus was placed back down and stole one more gaze into the pool then stumbled back inside the house.

Cygnus’s father’s face became very serious as his son had left. He gazed at the pool his son was so obsessed with and was seriously debating removing it to stop the child going out on his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the one thing he and his wife made together, nor could he break his son’s heart in that way.

His gaze drifted to the walls, his eyes scaling them many times over. They were larger than the Mathissen Manor itself, yet they still were not safe enough for him. How hard would it be for a thief to scale a wall, worse yet if they had magic or tools. He decided that he would get more enchantments for the walls, despite the fact there were already so many latent layers that it cost few millions of gold. But a man has to protect his family, and the Altmer were the best at enchanting. This was the safest place for the Flares. This was the sanctum of their home.

He took a look around the yard, the pink ever blooming cherry blossoms calmed his nerves, and he remembered why he genuinely had fallen in love with the house when he decided to invest in it. He took in a breath of the cool morning air and decided to go back inside the house.

“I see you’re up,” his wife was waiting for him at the door, and playful screams from inside indicated Cygnus was playing around.

“Is he sliding down the stairs again?” His father tried to get a better look inside but his wife blocked him. “He’s going to get hurt you kn-“

“You worry way too much for a 46 year old man.” His wife has silenced him with a finger over the lips. Her brown hair was messy yet beautiful and curly and flowed over her shoulders, covering more of her shoulders than her nightgown.

“I have all the reason too.”

“He’s safe and happy, and has been for the last 4 years.”

“Can you blame me, rouges will want to do whatever they can to still up trouble, all because of the damned war for Cyrodill.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No angry politics first thing in the morning.” She looked at her husband disapprovingly, “Your wife is standing here in a fancy ashen silk gown that is showing to much skin and you havn’t even told her to cover up of given her a morning kiss as yet.”

Alexander Flare grabbed his wife and gave her a kiss as he pulled the silken gown higher up on her shoulders and fixed her hair.

“There. Is that better?”

“Much.”

Cathrine Flare took her husband into the dining hall and sat him down, fetched their son from the staircase and sat him down and then went into the kitchen.

“Oh yes, Alex!” she called from the kitchen, though out of view from either Alexander of Cygnus, “A ship’s coming in this morning and we have to collect a few crates of Nightshade from the port.”

“I’m not allowed to talk war politics but you’re allowed to talk business transactions?”

“I’m the wife!” she yelled back, but this time she did appear, with two plates of food in her hands.

Alexander Flare shut his mouth. He knew he could say nothing that wouldn’t result in his breakfast being put on top of him.

“You lose, Papa,” even four year old Cygnus knew his mom wasn’t to be messed with.

These were the simple days. The family days.