Graydon Family

The night before had been Jonathan's 18th birthday celebration and his last hurrah before finishing high school. He had stayed out late, partying with friends until the early morning hours before finally stumbling home, mind hazy with alcohol.

 

Jonathan was still sleeping it off when the morning sunlight pierced through his bedroom curtains.

 

The maid entered, calling out "young master" in an attempt to rouse him, but Jonathan merely grumbled and buried his face in the pillow.

 

That's when his grandmother, Alessandra, swept into the room. The woman in her mid-fifties with auburn hair tied neatly in a bun was a commanding presence. She sat beside Jonathan on the bed and said his name in a tone that demanded attention. "Jonathan."

 

Instantly, he was startled awake. "Granny!" Jonathan said, surprised to see her there. The pounding headache and queasy stomach that greeted him as he woke up served as a harsh reminder of the previous night's festivities.

 

"Get up and freshen yourself. We have to go," Alessandra stated firmly.

 

Jonathan was thoroughly confused in his groggy state. "What? Where?"

 

Alessandra's piercing gaze bore into him, making it clear that there was no room for argument. His mind is hazy from the remnants of alcohol.

 

His grandmother looked at him with severe intensity. "Jonathan, now that you've turned 18 and finished high school, we must journey to visit our clan's sacred shrine so you can receive the ancestral blessings."

 

A pit formed in Jonathan's stomach as he recognised the solemnity in his grandmother's words. This was no mere family tradition - it was an absolute obligation ingrained for generations. He knew there was no way around it.

 

With a resigned nod, Jonathan dragged himself out of bed to make himself presentable. His life of modern comforts was about to be disrupted by ancient customs from a world he knew nothing about.

 

Jonathan groggily made his way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to try and dispel the lingering fog of his 18th birthday celebration. His head was pounding from one too many drinks, and now his grandmother was insisting they embark on some sort of spiritual journey.

 

As he stared at his haggard reflection in the mirror, Jonathan couldn't help wondering how he got to this point.

 

*

 

Jonathan Graydon came from a legacy of immense wealth and privilege that most could scarcely fathom. At the apex of their dynastic empire stood his great-grandfather, Hannibal Graydon, a billionaire titan who had risen from humble immigrant roots to build a global business juggernaut spanning virtually every major industry.

 

While Hannibal's unrelenting ambition and street-smart intuition laid the foundations, it was his son Simon who truly catapulted the Graydon family into the uppermost echelons of high society. A born adventurer, Simon spent his youth travelling the world in pursuit of cultural experiences that most wealthy scions would never deign to seek out.

 

It was during an extended anthropological expedition to the Amazon rainforest that Simon first encountered the remote Amaîri clan. Completely removed from modern civilisation, the Amaîri lived a primordial existence in tune with the rhythms and sacred energies of the jungle. They constructed sprawling villages woven from branches and carved wooden totems, adorning their faces and bodies with brilliant paints derived from natural pigments.

 

At first, the Amaîri greeted Simon and his exploration team with overt hostility. For an indigenous clan that had survived centuries by keeping their mystical lineage completely isolated, the arrival of obtrusive outsiders was an existential threat. Despite the ominous face-carved masks and ceremonial spears pointed their way, Simon couldn't tear his gaze away from the young woman at the heart of the commotion.

 

Alessandra, barely out of her teenage years, moved with a preternatural grace and confidence that instantly enraptured Simon. Her sculpted features were unmistakably beautiful, with high cheekbones, full lips, and tawny skin kissed by years of reverent communion under the Amazonian sun. Yet it was the ferocity blazing in Alessandra's eyes that truly captivated the young Graydon heir - this was no meek jungle flower to be easily plucked and cultivated for his amusement.

 

He stayed with the clan and learned their way, just for her.

 

When the year's expedition came to an end, Simon outright refused to depart without Alessandra by his side. A part of her had always dreamed of exploring beyond the Amaîri's hidden Amazonian enclave, and despite her tribe's staunch objections, she loved Simon too much to undergo the heartbreaking angst of separation.

 

So it was that Alessandra bid a tearful farewell to her ancestral homeland, leaving the primordial Amazon for the first time to become the wife of one of the world's wealthiest and most privileged family dynasties. While a life of modern opulence was disorienting after decades of sustained simplicity, Alessandra embraced the opportunities to share her people's enlightened teachings with those receptive enough to receive the ancestral wisdom.

 

Tragically, their cross-cultural union proved cruelly fleeting. Just over a decade after Alessandra gave birth to their daughter Helena, Simon perished in a horrific yacht explosion under circumstances that remained questionable even with his family's immense resources. The grief-stricken Alessandra channelled her anguish into ensuring Helena wanted for nothing, dedicating every waking hour to upholding the Graydon business empire while Simon's other relatives saw to the luxury befitting their grandiose status.

 

As Helena came of age, Alessandra adhered devoutly to the Amaîri obligation of seeking the blessings of their ancestral goddess once a woman reached maturity.

 

Years later, after Helena married her longtime boyfriend Daniel Martin and gave birth to their son Jonathan, Alessandra was overjoyed to witness her family's legacy continue. After he was born, Alessandra changed a lot and started to take care of the boy.

 

Alessandra recognised all the signs in her young grandson. The restless sense of detachment from material pursuits. The deep curiosity about the family's inexplicable dynastic stamina and preternatural instincts. More than anything, those soulful eyes reminded her so much of Simon during those first meetings in the Agdara village.

 

Helena dismissed her mother's pronouncements about putting Jonathan through the ancient rituals as delusional ramblings unbefitting of their global ambassadorship. The Graydon scion had been groomed from the womb to someday assume the family's corporate empire, perhaps even surpassing his great-grandfather's illustrious accords. How could the reclusive clan teachings of a relic tribe in the middle of the jungle be anything beyond colourful mythologies?

 

But Alessandra would not be dissuaded. The metamorphosis her grandson was destined to undergo was not merely confined to symbolic theatrics. This would be a life-altering transformation that unshackled Jonathan from the limited perceptions restraining his bloodline's true potential, allowing him to blossom into the latest lineage of Amaîri sorceresses whose abilities stretched back to the dawn of human civilisation on Earth.

 

As Jonathan came of age, Alessandra began sharing with him the most rudimentary legends and rituals to mollify his teenage cynicism. She had told him the stories of her clan and the history behind their long lasting clan.

Jonathan made his way downstairs, still feeling the lingering effects of the night's debaucheries. He had just stepped into the opulent main foyer of the Graydon mansion when he was greeted by his grandmother Alessandra, already dressed for travel in her typical simple but elegantly tailored attire.

 

"There you are, Jonathan," she said crisply. "Our bags are packed, and the car is ready outside. We need to leave immediately."

 

Jonathan let out a long, defeated sigh. So it was really happening - this crazy jungle ritual trip his grandmother had been pestering him about. He had made plans with his buddies to spend one last summer of teenage excess before they all went their separate ways for college in the fall. Now those dreams of nonstop parties, beaches, and debauchery were being derailed by an obligation to his family's "ancient customs."

 

Resigned to his fate, at least for now, Jonathan nodded and followed his grandmother outside to the circular driveway hugging the front of the mansion's entrance. To his surprise, there was no limousine or town car waiting to whisk them away, just Alessandra's vintage sedan that she occasionally still indulged in driving herself.

 

"You're....driving us?" Jonathan asked with thinly-veiled scepticism as she unlocked the car and tossed their luggage into the trunk. For as long as he could remember, every trip or outing always involved personal drivers, security details, and meticulous transportation logistics.

 

Alessandra fixed him with that look Jonathan recognised all too well - the one that made it clear her decision was absolute and would not be questioned. "Of course I'm driving. We can't very well bring along a coterie of staff and alert the world to our whereabouts, now can we? This is a deeply sacred journey, Jonathan."

 

Shaking his head but knowing it was futile to argue, Jonathan climbed into the passenger seat of the vintage sedan as his grandmother slid behind the wheel. She always did love indulging in life's smaller luxuries here and there, like taking the wheel of her prized automobile, despite having a full team of professional drivers at her beck and call.

 

For the first hour, they made idle small talk as Alessandra expertly manoeuvred them through the winding canyon roads outside Los Angeles and towards a small municipal airport on the outskirts of the city.

 

Jonathan couldn't help but catch glimpses of his phone lighting up with texts from his friends, wondering where their ringleader had disappeared after their raging party the night before.

 

As they approached a secluded hangar at the airport, Jonathan saw a sleek private jet waiting on the tarmac. He started to query about their travel logistics, but his grandmother simply gestured for silence as she drove the vintage sedan directly into the yawning mouth of the jet's rear cargo ramp.

 

Once inside, with the ramp closed, Alessandra guided the car into a special automobile transport compartment before killing the engine. She gathered their luggage and led Jonathan through a discrete doorway into the main passenger cabin of the luxurious jet.

 

"I had the plane brought here and prepared for our departure last night while you were out celebrating," she explained tersely, indicating that Jonathan should take a seat. "We cannot linger or be seen by too many prying eyes before our voyage, you understand?"

 

Jonathan barely had a chance to nod before they felt the unmistakable rumble of the jet's engines firing up. He gazed out the window with a mixture of resignation and growing uncertainty as the aircraft started accelerating down the runway.

 

Within moments, they were airborne and breaking through the scattered cloud cover, utterly severing their tenuous grasp on the privileged Los Angeles existence Jonathan had always known. His life of opulence and modern comforts was already drifting away in the smoggy haze far below as their jet charted a course towards the remote Arazon and his grandmother's ancestral homeland.

 

*

 

The private jet had been airborne for several hours when Alessandra came to check on Jonathan in his cabin. He was slouched in a chair, texting furiously on his phone.

 

"How's my favourite grandson doing?" She asked warmly, sitting down beside him. She affectionately ruffled his hair. "You know I don't like seeing you with that long face."

 

Jonathan looked up with a resigned expression. "I know, Grandma, it's just...we had this big party planned with all my friends tonight to kick off summer break. Now I'll be missing it because of this trip."

 

Alessandra's face fell into an exaggerated pout. "So you don't want to come accompany your dear old grandmother on this important journey? Is that what you're saying?"

 

Seeing her dramatised disappointment, Jonathan quickly backtracked. "No, no, of course not, Grandma! You know I love spending time with you. It's just hard leaving my friends behind, that's all."

 

To cool her off, he added, "Who says you are old? You are still beautiful."

 

She scoffed him off, saying, "You are just saying it because I'm your grandma."

 

He then blurted, "No, Granny, even my friends say that you are hot and beautiful, and you are one hot Gilf." He bit his tongue, staring at her. 'Now why did I say that?' he thought to himself.

 

Alessandra gave him a sly look as if she could read his mind. "I may be older, but I'm not oblivious, Jonathan. I know young men very well."

 

"Wait, you know what it means, grandma."

 

She only smiled at him. "Of course I do, dear." Alessandra replied with a twinkle in her eye. Jonathan blushed, realising he had underestimated his grandma's awareness and sense of humour.

 

"Thank you, Jonathan, for the compliment."

 

Jonathan's eyes went wide, equal parts embarrassed and surprised that she would even acknowledge such a thing. Alessandra just winked conspiratorially before changing the subject, sensing his discomfort.

 

*

 

Several more hours passed before the plane's descent began over the lush rainforests of the Arazon basin. As they descended through the dense cloud cover, Jonathan could make out a small airfield and hangar in a clearing far below.

 

When they finally landed, the jet's rear ramp opened, and Alessandra guided Jonathan into an immense, climatized hangar built to accommodate the comings and goings of the Graydon family's air travel to this remote region.

 

"The Graydon Corporation established this airfield and runway deep in the Arazon to facilitate research and business interests long ago," Alessandra explained as they exited the plane into the cavernous hangar space. "Your great-grandfather may have been wealthy beyond avarice, but he was no fool when it came to securing a foothold in regions most outsiders dare not tread."

 

Jonathan couldn't help but gawk at the expansive facilities, constructed of dense concrete and steel beams able to withstand the harshest elements. Air conditioning units hummed to dispel the oppressive Arazonian heat while rows of maintenance equipment stood by to service incoming aircraft.

 

"Most of the technicians and personnel are sourced from neighbouring cities and villages," Alessandra said, following his gaze. "We cannot risk the secret locations of our ancestral lands being revealed, so only a handful of high-ranking Graydon operatives know the true purpose of this outpost."

 

She started leading Jonathan towards a heavy metal door, clearly intent on whisking him away from this relatively modern encampment and into the untamed wilderness her clan had called home for millennia before Graydon's corporate tendrils first entered the region.