The third child was the same as Alistair. Competent. Strong. Predictable. They would follow orders, lead armies, defend the borders. But they would never see the strings. They would never question the narrative. They were excellent soldiers, but they were not heirs to the truth.
And the rest were mediocre. I stopped the test on the rest of them because I knew they wouldn't succeed.
The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh children showed no spark of the curiosity needed to crack the cipher. They trained, they fought, they grew. But when I dropped the language book in their rooms at age one, they simply cried. When the hidden library waited beneath the shed, they never thought to look past the scrap weapons. They were Theodores in name only—powerful, loyal, useful. But they would never know the truth of our curse. They would never be able to break it.
Due to my growing influence, my children Lyra and Elara gained the chance to enter into the world's best Academy - Ethereal Academy.
The Ethereal Academy. A name whispered with reverence across the continent. The finest training ground for young nobles, where the most powerful families sent their most promising children to learn combat, magic, strategy, and statecraft. Acceptance was a mark of supreme favor, a recognition that your bloodline stood among the elite.
My children grew substantially strong over there. Lyra returned sharper, colder, her already formidable skills honed to an assassin's edge. Elara grew quieter, more observant, her kindness becoming a mask for something deeper. The Academy had refined them into weapons of exceptional quality.
This generation of Theodores were the strongest in history. And I have done it all.
The thought brought a rare flicker of something like pride. I had taken a cursed, manipulated bloodline and forged it into a powerhouse. My children were paragons. My army was unmatched. My treasury overflowed with monster-tainted gold. And now, with the Academy's endorsement, our family's prestige had reached heights no Theodore had ever imagined.
I gained a successful relationship with them. Not love—I had killed too many of my own for that—but respect. They knew my power. They understood that I had made them what they were.
My strength grew very strong. Now I could fight a superior dragon like Antherra on 1v1. The decades of hoarding monster cores, of pushing my body and Aether to their absolute limits, had paid off.
Therefore my children were given an exclusive right to enter the academy.
The cycle of acceptance continued. Alistair had gone. Lyra and Elara had gone. Now the younger ones would follow, each return adding to our luster, each new connection weaving us deeper into the
continent's power structure.
I was thinking of how I would conquer the 3 powers and the dragon's domain.
The plan was forming, layer upon layer, a web of deception and violence that would finally break the curse. But I needed more pieces. More options. More children who could serve specific roles in the grand design.
I decided to have more children.
The eight one was born.
When I saw the eighth one… It didn't have a soul.
The memory still made my blood run cold, even years later. I had held countless newborns—my own children, my siblings' children before I ended them. I knew the feel of a soul, the warm pulse of consciousness that flickered behind new eyes. This child had nothing. Just an empty vessel, breathing, crying, but utterly hollow.
I was shocked by that- What in the world is happening?...
For a terrible moment, I thought the curse had finally taken its ultimate form. That Antherra's manipulation had reached into the womb itself, stealing the essence of my child before it could draw its first breath.
But after a few minutes the soul was made… or came? I don't really know.
It simply appeared. A flicker, then a flame. Consciousness where there had been void. I watched it happen, my Eyes of Veracity showing me the truth of the transition. Something had entered that empty vessel. Something from elsewhere.
I checked him with The Eyes. He was Aetherless.
The absence of Aether was immediately apparent. Where my other children glowed with internal power, this one was dark. A void in the magical spectrum. A walking null.
It's very rare. But I could use this child to conquer the three powers and the domain.
The realization was instant, cold, and absolute. An Aetherless child was worthless as a mage. But as a tool? As a piece in a game where the other players could only see through Aether-tinted glasses? He was invisible. He was unpredictable. He was the perfect weapon for a war that hadn't started yet.
Since then, my plan officially started.
I didn't tell anyone that he was Aetherless. To be sure that no human finds out I put a spell on him so that it will make it seem he has Aether. The spell's duration was 9 years. Exact time of the ceremony.
The library and other things were just to see who has the capability to invoke the truth… This plan is different.
The tests I had designed for my older children were about identifying intelligence, curiosity, the capacity to see beyond the obvious. Zyphron would be tested too for these qualities.
To conquer all powers I needed to look vulnerable.
The first step was deception. I needed my enemies to see weakness where there was strength, opportunity where there was trap. And for that, I needed my strongest piece to appear to betray me.
I met Alistair and commanded him to betray me and work for the king.
He stood before me in my private study, his citrine eyes wide with shock, his jaw tight with barely controlled emotion. The heir. The strongest of my children. The one who would inherit everything if I fell.
Alistair "What are you saying?? I will never betray you!"
His voice cracked with genuine horror. He thought I was testing his loyalty, accusing him of a crime he would never commit. I let him suffer for a moment before revealing the truth.
I replied - "This is a part of the plan to conquer the 3 powers."
He questioned anxiously "Plan?? How?"
I said- "I will instigate the war between us and the Church and Mareux. The king will not intervene in the fight. This is my guarantee. You just have to take down the king and the royal guard when war between us and the church happens. I know that you're very strong. Join the royal guard. Make it seem like a betrayal. Gain the trust of the king. And kill him when the war starts. Join the royal guard after the naming ceremony. This is for the house."
The words hung in the air. Treason. Regicide. The complete dismantling of the three powers in a single, coordinated strike.
Alistair smiled - "Oh so that's what father is preparing for! I was worried for no reason…Yes.. this is for the house!"
He understood immediately. Not the full scope—he didn't know about the dragon, about the centuries of manipulation, about the true enemy. But he understood that this was war, and that his role was to be the blade that severed the king's head from his throne.
Alistair looked at my citrine eyes and left the room preparing for the plan.
I watched him go, a rare warmth in my chest. My son. My heir. My most trusted weapon.
I met the royal family of the haier kingdom and created an additional strong alliance with them. Their children were also very strong. It was very beneficial
With this the road of conquering was set.
I sent my 4th child to the academy. The 5th and 6th were ready to go after a few years.
Each placement was another thread in the web. Contacts. Allies. Future generals and governors. I was building an empire before I had even declared war.
Things were going very smoothly.
And soon it was time to throw the book.
The language primer. The first test. I placed it in his room when he was just old enough to maybe, possibly, if he had any spark at all, notice it. I expected nothing. He was Aetherless. He was probably doomed to mediocrity. But I had to know.
It was shocking. That child climbed out of the crib and then read or looked at the language book…
My Eyes of Veracity showed me everything. The impossible coordination. The deliberate movement. The focused attention. A child, acting with the purpose of an adult.
No one succeeded but he did.
The first crack in my assumptions about him.
Soon then I decided to test this child too. This child practiced punches and kicks.
I watched him train in secret. The dedication was inhuman. The progress was staggering. He was building a body that could compete with Aether-users through pure, grinding physical effort.
At three an unprecedented moment happened.
That child was able to find the hidden library.
JUST AT THREE!! THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE!
I almost revealed myself in that moment. The shock was that profound. A three-year-old, navigating the estate at night, bypassing every obstacle I had placed, finding the secret entrance beneath the scrap weapons. It was beyond anything my older children had achieved.
To have a consciousness at 3 is impossible! Is it because of the soul?? Or being Aetherless increases brain capacity… to have a balance?
I had no answers. Only questions. And a growing certainty that this child was something I had never anticipated.
Soon he was able to crack the truth.
The dragon's secret. The Church's true master.
He decoded it all, using the algorithms I had hidden in the most obscure texts. He was not just intelligent—he was brilliant. A mind that could see patterns where others saw noise.
My previous children who tried this test rarely looked at the useless books. But this child did. And he figured it out. This means I have to make him as Heir… but he's Aetherless… shit…!
The promise echoed in my mind. The vow I had made to my dying wife. The child who could see the truth, would inherit everything.
But how could an Aetherless lead a house of sword -mages? How could he command the respect of generals who could incinerate him with a thought?
How someone Aetherless… will lead this house after me… no one will accept… him… There might be a coup if he becomes heir!.
But I need to fulfill my promise… at the least…
This is becoming complicated!
In the end I decided to continue with the plan and then I will decide what to do after the war.
I pushed the dilemma aside. First, victory. Then, succession.
I spread rumors about Zyphron and made the church anxious.
"Lightning genius." "Prodigy." "The strongest Theodore yet." The whispers spread through noble circles like fire through dry grass. The church heard them. The dragon heard them. And they grew afraid.
The Mareux family is jealous of the continuous enrollment of House Theodore's children in Ethereal Academy. So I purposely let them make an alliance with each other. It will be easier to take both of them down in a surprise attack.
The church and Mareux, united by fear, believing they were striking at a rising power. They had no idea they were walking into a trap I had spent decades preparing.
Now everything against the human powers were done. After the successful surprise attack… I will launch an invasion in the dragon domain conquering the vast lands. If any dragon attempts to stop my expansion, I will threaten to reveal evidence of exploitation that will cause worldwide war.
The final piece. Blackmail. The dragon's centuries of manipulating humanity, of using us as bait. The other species would turn on them. The fragile treaty would shatter. And in the chaos, I would claim everything.
Zyphron was said to be Aetherless by the church.
The announcement was perfect. The church had publicly condemned him, isolating him, making him a symbol of their "righteousness." They had no idea they were creating a martyr.
Knowing that Zyphron excels at hidden languages, I gave him the letters knowing he would try to save himself by writing the truth to his sisters in a hidden way… giving me time to prepare.
The final manipulation. His desperate attempt to survive would become the trigger for war. His coded messages, decoded years from now, would be the proof that the church had attacked an innocent child. The timing was perfect. I would have three years to marshal my forces while my sisters puzzled over his words.
It was all perfect.
I leaned back in my chair, the weight of decades settling on my shoulders. The plan was in motion. The pieces were in place. Alistair would kill the king. Lyra and Elara would uncover the truth. Zyphron would rot in the Abyssal jail, his suffering the catalyst for everything.
And when the dust settled, House Theodore would rule.
Not as pawns. Not as bait. As masters.
I looked at my hands—the hands that had killed siblings, that had built an empire, that had shaped a child into a weapon. The Eyes of Veracity showed me the truth of what I had become.
A monster.
But a necessary one.
For the house. For the future. For the children who would never know the curse.
For Zyphron, who would never know his father's love, only his father's plan.
It was all perfect.
The word echoed in the empty room.
Perfect.