August 3rd, 2017.
I remember that day too clearly to ever forget it.
The morning air was heavy with perfume and that particular metallic scent that only appears when a storm is waiting to happen. The Nivarea estate was immaculate that morning. It had to be. We were receiving guests from the one of the Twelve, and not just any of them. The House of Argemenes was coming.
You could tell something monumental was about to happen by how silent the servants were. Everyone knew what it meant when a High-Tier House visited a Mid-Tier Bloodline. A selection was going to happen. Someone was about to have their destiny rewritten.
And we were all lined up for it.
I was fifteen then, the seventh child of the Nivarea Bloodline. Seventh, which meant I was low on my mother's attention list, but high enough to still be considered "usable." My mother, Estema Relisse Nivarea, ruled the family with a grace so sharp it could cut glass. She had five husbands. My father was the third, which made me neither favored nor forgotten, just... statistically relevant.
It wasn't strange, of course. In Mid-Tier society, women ruled. The men were caretakers, scholars, lovers and breeders, depending on the arrangement. Polyamory was as common as breakfast. Every woman of status had multiple husbands from other Mid-Tier Bloodlines, forming a net of alliances strong enough to keep all twelve Houses pleased. My mother always said, "Our wombs are the foundation of Altera Earth."
It wasn't arrogance. It was fact.
Mid-Tier Bloodlines were born to produce compatibility. We were the bridge between greatness and chaos, the Flux balancers that allowed High-Tier Bloodlines to reproduce without imploding from Flux dissonance. The more partners a woman took, the wider the pool of potential heirs she could birth. So yes, my mother had five husbands and from them, she had twenty-two children. I was the twelfth-born, though in social ranking, being the seventh son made me valuable enough to show off and expendable enough to lose.
We were standing in the eastern garden that day, in front of the great marble pond where crimson fish shimmered like drops of molten ruby. I remember sweating under the sun in my ceremonial robes, white and silver silk hugging my neck. The entire family stood in two perfect lines with sons on the left, daughters on the right. Our cousins stood behind us, in case any of us were deemed unworthy of introduction.
That's how the Mid-Tiers worked. It is perfection by order of elimination. Beside me, my older brother Cynel whispered.
"Do you think it's a man this time? The Argemenes have always been secretive."
I shrugged. "If it's a woman, she's likely terrifying."
He grinned. "Perfect for you, then."
I rolled my eyes, but my pulse quickened. It was true. We had never met an Argemenes before. The name alone carried myth.
House Argemenes didn't appear at banquets, didn't attend political congresses, and didn't even reveal their heirs. Their presence in the world was recorded only through interference. They stopped the Second and Third Great World Wars. The way the history books told it, when humanity, not Fluxhood, was at the brink of annihilation, crimson beams fell from the skies and halted entire armies. There were no witnesses, no survivors and no explanation. Only a message carved into the ground after the third war:
"The Balance Is Ours to Keep."
That was it. No one knew what they looked like, who they married, or which Bloodlines they mixed with. Only that they existed and when they appeared, things would change.
Then the gates opened.
The entire garden fell silent as Mother walked out from the grand archway. She was dazzling in her scarlet and ivory gown, five silver rings glinting on her fingers—each one representing her husbands. Her presence alone was enough to make all of us straighten instinctively.
Behind her came a man. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with long crimson hair tied at the back and a neatly kept beard. His eyes were like tempered silver, glinting softly under the sunlight. His robes were dark, subtly embroidered with symbols that pulsed faintly with Xana.
But then she stepped out. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
She looked our age but she carried herself with a composure that silenced the entire estate. Long, wavy crimson hair spilled down her back like fire bleeding into sunset. Her skin was tanned, kissed by the sun, glowing faintly against the backdrop of pale marble. And those silver eyes looked like they could see through my thoughts, strip me bare, and laugh about it later. She wasn't the kind of beautiful you compliment. She was the kind of beautiful that made you feel unworthy for breathing near her.
That was the first time I saw Anastelle Vecria Argemenes, the next heir of the House of Argemenes.
Mother gestured for silence as she bowed slightly at them.
"We welcome the House of Argemenes to the Nivarea Estate."
The crimson-haired man nodded politely. His voice was steady and resonant, almost melodic.
"The pleasure is ours, Estema Relisse. We've come for a matter of selection."
At that, every boy in the line subtly straightened. My stomach tightened. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Mother extended her arm toward us.
"These are my sons, nephews, and cousins. As is tradition, the choice is yours, should you find a compatible Flux."
The man turned to the girl. "Anastelle. Observe them."
She walked slowly, her eyes flicking between us like she was reading open books. Every time her gaze met one of my brothers, I could see their confidence wilt.
"Your Flux density is too brittle," she said to one.
"You hide arrogance behind control," to another.
"You reek of insecurity," to the third.
Each statement was delivered calmly, matter-of-factly, like a scientist documenting a failed experiment. My brothers, proud and trained as they were, clenched their jaws and tried not to react. I saw one's knuckles whiten as he gripped his robe. Another subtly looked away, humiliated. And then she stopped in front of me.
For a long, silent moment, she just looked. I didn't dare to move. Her silver eyes flicked over my face, down to my chest, then back up.
"You're not strong, but you're not trying to be. You're observant. You're quiet. You're hiding something."
I didn't know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.
So I said, "Aren't we all?"
For a second, she just stared. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. It wasn't a soft, polite smile. It was small, sharp, real. She turned to the crimson-haired man.
"I'll take this one. He's going to die soon. I would rather raise my children as a single mother because he won't last long."
The garden went still. My brothers' faces shifted from confusion to disbelief. My mother's eyebrows arched slightly not in protest, but in acknowledgment. And I realized I had just been chosen by one of the most mysterious and powerful Houses on Altera Earth. I remember the crimson-haired man's expression when he looked at me.
"Very well. Then it is decided."
Mother bowed her head slightly, smiling with satisfaction. "The Nivarea Bloodline is honored to serve the House of Argemenes."
I was standing there, staring at the girl who had just chosen me like I was her favorite new toy. And Anastelle? She tilted her head and scoffed.
"You're mine now. Try not to bore me."
I didn't know it then, but that day was the start of everything.