The library of the Jardin Paisible mansion is a place of silent, dusty grandeur. It is the second largest room in the house, surpassed only by the grand hallway. Nearly 40 towering shelves of books line the walls, filled with ancient lore, medical texts, diaries of their parents, sketchbooks of their mother and forgotten histories.
Johan and Joseph sit opposite each other at a heavy mahogany table in the centre of the room. The air is still, save for the faint scent of old paper and ink. Johan leans forward, his expression solemn.
"Listen carefully, Joseph. There are rules you must follow if you are to understand your heritage and power," Johan begins.
"First rule: Don't say anything about this to your sister. Jennifer cares about your safety more than anything in this world. She would never, never, ever allow you to use your powers if she knew the risks."
Joseph nods slowly, absorbing the weight of the secret.
"Second rule: At your age, you must not use a high level of mana too frequently. It stunts your physical growth. If you use a high level of mana every day, a hundred years from now, your body will still look like that of a 15-year-old. However, regardless of whether you use mana or not, mages have a limit—our bodies will never physically appear older than thirty."
Johan pauses, clearing his throat before continuing.
"Third rule: If you ever wish to marry, do not choose a mortal human. They are fragile, and our bloodlines are incompatible; you cannot have a child together. Furthermore, as a Lord, you are essentially immortal unless someone takes your life. Ordinary mages can live to be nearly a thousand years old, but mortals fade in the blink of an eye."
Joseph's face instantly turns a bright, vivid shade of red. He looks down at the table, overcome by shame. "Brother... why are you starting a topic like marriage?"
Johan looks at him, perfectly deadpan. "What topic? This isn't a suggestion, Joseph. It is a rule."
"I know, but it's far too early for that," Joseph mutters, still unable to look up.
"You act as if I'm arranging a wedding for you tomorrow," Johan says with a small huff. "Listen, I'm not Aunt Nina. I'm just telling you the reality."
Joseph takes a breath and tries to steady himself. "Sorry... please, continue."
"Good, if you have any questions at all, you can ask me now," Johan says, his tone softening slightly.
Joseph leans in, his curiosity finally overriding his embarrassment. "What is Mana, exactly? What is the true meaning of it?"
"Mana..." Johan sighs, looking at his hands. "The name itself doesn't matter much. The word comes from ancient scriptures, and it translates roughly to 'spiritual energy.' However, as our understanding of genetics and metaphysics improved, mages discovered the biological reality: it is a fundamental part of our blood and our inheritance. It is the fuel of our existence. You can call it whatever you want: magic, power, energy. But most of the mages call it Mana."
"I see, and what about the Orders? Why were they formed?" Joseph says, nodding.
Johan's gaze sharpens. "Listen closely, Joseph. To understand the origin of the Orders, you must first understand the origin of the Lords."
Joseph's expression becomes intense. He sits perfectly still, sensing that he is finally about to receive the answers he has been searching for.
"At the very beginning, when there was nothingness, God created one sun and three worlds. God also created the energy required to keep these worlds alive, giving them the purpose to generate and sustain Mana. From that energy, the races were born: Mortal humans, Immortal humans, and mages." Johan explains, his voice taking on a storyteller's cadence.
Johan gestures to the ancient books surrounding them.
"To lead the worlds and fulfil his purpose, God finally created four Great Lords: the Lord of Consciousness, the Lord of Life, the Lord of Soul, and the Lord of Destruction. However, the Lord of Destruction grew resentful; he opposed God and the nature of his creation. In response, God cursed him. As new power grew from that cursed Lord, he was transformed into the Lord of Darkness."
Joseph listens, mesmerised.
"In his revenge, the Dark Lord spread his curse to the other innocent races. To save the three worlds from total corruption, the other three Lords united their strength and defeated him. The event is known as the First Great War. But even in defeat, the Dark Lord's cursed energy remained, lingering within the worlds like a poison. To maintain the divine purpose and to cure the races of this lingering curse, the Lord of Life formed a specialised fraction of his army, naming it an 'Order.' Seeing the wisdom in this, the other two Lords followed suit and created their own Orders."
Johan looks at Joseph pointedly. "This is how our world was shaped, and why the struggle continues to this day."
"But where was the Lord of Knowledge that I was?" Joseph asks a critical question, leaning further across the table.
Johan leans back, a heavy shadow crossing his features. "After the three Lords died, their original armies and orders disbanded. But to prevent chaos and maintain the balance, our father created a new order: the New World Order. It was designed to combine the strengths and remnants of the three main orders into one unified force."
He pauses, his voice lowering. "Before that happened, however, some vessels of the Dark Lord managed to splinter off and form their own twisted Orders. The man who attacked you yesterday? He belongs to one of those Dark Orders."
The weight of the revelation hangs heavy in the air. Joseph stares at the ancient texts before him, feeling a sudden, crushing sense of depression. The legacy of his father, the burden of immortality, and the shadow of dark orders wanting him dead—it is all too much to process in a single morning.
"Okay, that's enough for today," Joseph says quietly, his voice devoid of its earlier spark of curiosity.
He closes all the books with a series of dull thuds, his movements slow. Without another word, he stands up and leaves the library, retreating to his room to be alone with his thoughts.
Soon after, Johan also exits the library, exhaling a long, weary breath. He makes his way to the grand hallway, where the mansion's reception area is located. Jennifer is sitting there in a high-backed chair, presiding over the reception desk. At Jardin Paisible, patients must schedule their appointments in person or by telephone.
Johan approaches her, shifting into a more relaxed mood to mask the intensity of the library session.
"Oi! Do I have any new appointments?" he asks, leaning against a list on the reception desk.
Jennifer looks up, offering him a warm smile. "The next appointment isn't until 4:00 PM. You can rest for a while now."
"Good," Johan mutters, though his eyes are a little tired.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy wheels and clopping hooves breaks the silence of the afternoon. A carriage comes to a halt directly in front of the mansion's gate. The carriage driver calls out to the children playing nearby, his voice carrying through the open air. "Is this Jardin Paisible mansion?"
"Doctor! Somebody is at the gate!" one of the children shouts.
Johan straightens up immediately and starts running towards the gate. "Yeah, yeah! Coming!"
Jennifer watches him go, her smile fading into a look of quiet disappointment and concern. She knows Johan is trying to reawaken Joseph's power, but her heart is heavy with a different kind of resolve.
"Johan, I know what you're doing, but I will never risk Joseph's life. He is my Joseph," she says silently in her mind, her gaze fixed on his retreating.
At the gate, Johan reaches the driver and nods. "Sir, it is Jardin Paisible. How can I help you?"
The carriage man looks back at his passengers through the small window of the coach. "Sir, this is your destination."
The carriage's door opens, and Richard leans out, flashing a cheerful smile. "Hey Johan! I've come here after a very long time!"
The moment Johan sees Richard's face, his expression flatlines. Without saying a single word, Johan slams the carriage door shut right in Richard's face.
Johan turns to the carriage driver, wearing a sugar-sweet, artificial smile. "Sir, please take him far away from here. I can give you double the payment."
The carriage man doesn't miss a beat, his own smile matching Johan's in greed. "50 Aether."
Johan reaches into his pocket and pulls out the coins. "Here is 60 Aether. Go."
The carriage man snaps the reins, and the carriage immediately begins to lurch away.
"Johan! Wait! I came here for help!" Richard's muffled voice calls out from inside the moving coach. He is sitting back on the bench, gingerly holding his nose, looking utterly pathetic with his head bandaged from the previous night's chaos and his pride wounded.
Inside the carriage, Kaeli bursts into a fit of loud, hysterical laughter. "Ha! Ha! Ha! If I were in his place, I would also do that!"
Theo is sitting across from them, trying to be more polite, but he can't help it—he's shaking with laughter, his hand pressed firmly over his mouth to stifle the sound.
Richard looks at the two of them, then sticks his head out the window. "Hey, where taking us?"
"Mister carriage man, can you take us back?" Theo pleads.
"No, little boy," the driver chuckles, pocketing Johan's coins. "I have a double payment to keep you away. But... if I were to get a little more..."
Richard lets out an exhausted, defeated sigh. "Okay, fine. I will give you triple."
The carriage turns back to the mansion.