Sun Way: The New Era

Lucius von Vasilier stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing into the twilight. The mountainside that enveloped his family's estate stretched out before him was truly beautiful, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun. His mind, however, was far from the picturesque view. He took a slow breath and let the wind carry away the lingering unease.

Footsteps echoed behind him, breaking the stillness. He didn't need to turn to know it was his father.

"Son," Konstantin von Vasilier's voice was firm, a constant reminder of the man who had been upholding the family's newly bolstered status with unyielding resolve. The elder Vasilier was tall and broad, his blue eyes, piercing and cold, met Lucius's. Konstantin was the heir to his grandfather's title of Ritter and Konstantin's demeanor was one of a man determined to solidify their family's standing.

Lucius turned slowly to face him. Before saying "Father," he raised one hand, fingers poised with practiced precision, before bringing it in a smooth arc to rest just above his chest in a gesture of deep respect and offering the customary greeting.

"You're needed inside," Konstantin replied, his voice softer, but still carrying the weight of authority. "Your grandfather wants to speak with you."

Lucius's jaw tightened, the weight of his grandfather's legacy pressing on him as he gazed out over the estate. The tranquility of his home had always felt uneasy to him compared to the city. Too still. It had been too quiet for too long. A storm was coming, and he could feel it on the edge of his senses.

His thoughts drifted to Viktor von Vasilier, his grandfather. The man who had started it all, a common soldier with nothing but a steady hand and an unshakable resolve. Lucius could almost hear the crackle of Lasergewer in the distance, the screech of Untermenschen caught in Viktor's sights. It was that precision, that cold efficiency, that had earned Viktor the title of Ritter, and with it, the villa that now sprawled beneath him.

A wisp of a smile tugged at Lucius's lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. His grandfather hadn't just fought; he'd built something from nothing, taking advantage of every connection, every sliver of opportunity. He had used war to carve his place among the elite, and his ambition hadn't stopped there. The wealth he'd accumulated had bloomed into a network of allies, all cemented by his laser-sharp focus.

Lucius shifted his stance, his thoughts now on his father. Konstantin had been no less ambitious, spinning the legacy Viktor had built into something larger, something dangerous. And soon, it would be Lucius's turn. The third in line to carry the von Vasilier name, to defend it, to expand it. But as he looked at the horizon, he couldn't help but wonder how will he contribute to the Vasilier name?

He followed his father through the marble halls of their estate, which, despite its grandeur, still held an air of modesty. The walls were bare, save for a few recent hand painted portraits of his grandfather and grandmother, a sharp contrast to the age-old tapestries or heirlooms of the Founding Families. Instead of centuries of glory, there was a palpable sense of ambition, as if the walls themselves were waiting for the family's legacy to be etched into them. The space reflected a house that had only just begun to find its place among the greats, its wealth and status still in the making.

The door to the study was open, and Lucius could already see his grandfather sitting behind the large desk, his presence is towering, even when he is relaxed. Viktor von Vasilier, an old-looking man with grey hair thinning at the temples, still held that youthful energy in his eyes. His silvered mane, though sparse in places, added an air of wisdom and strength to his imposing figure. Lucius had never liked how the old man could see straight through him. It was as if every glance was an assessment, every word a command.

"Lucius, come in," Viktor said, his fingers typing on the keyboard without pause. His voice carried the weight of command, a tone Lucius had long ago learned to respect.

The heavy oak-looking door clicked shut behind him, muffling the muted hum of servants outside. Lucius crossed the room, his polished boots sinking into the thick burgundy rug, and lowered himself into the leather chair opposite Viktor's desk. He straightened his back, gripping the chair's arms, willing his hands to stay steady. The air between them was thick, charged with unspoken tension.

For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fireplace. Viktor finished signing the document before him, set his pen down deliberately, and leaned back. His piercing grey eyes met Lucius's, calm yet unyielding.

"It's time."

The words settled in Lucius's chest. He knew what they meant. He'd known for years, since the whispered lessons in the villa gardens, where tutors had drilled him on duty. He swallowed hard, keeping his face neutral.

Viktor continued, oblivious or perhaps indifferent to his grandson's struggle. "You will marry into the Eltz family."

Lucius blinked, but his mask didn't slip. His throat felt dry. Not the Haiz family, then. His mind raced through the implications: the Haiz had wealth and influence but they weren't the Eltz. The Haiz were lesser, promising but unproven.

"Does this decision surprise you?" Viktor's tone was cold, detached.

Lucius shook his head. "No, Grandfather. But.."

"Adelheid," Viktor interrupted, his lips curling into something that could barely be called a smile. "A suitable match. The Eltz family may have squandered their fortune, but their bloodline is impeccable. Primaris genecode, Lucius. Do you understand what that means?"

He did. Of course he did. The Eltz name carried the genecode.

"It was between the Haiz family and the Eltz," Viktor continued, his tone dismissive, as if the matter had never truly been in question. "The Haiz might have brought us wealth, but they lack the pedigree. The choice was obvious."

"You will wed her. You will bed her. And you will secure our lineage," Viktor said, his voice hardening. "The union will strengthen our family's position, solidify what we've built. That is what matters."

Of course, he understood. In the Empire, marriage was determined by the government for all citizens. The government paired individuals for the good of the Empire, considering genetics, lineage, and compatibility. For commoners, it was a matter of duty and most did not have a problem; it just was a way of things. But for the nobility, there was a slight privilege: they could choose their match, provided they did so early enough before the government assigned one for them

The firelight cast shifting shadows across Viktor's face as he nodded to himself. "You have little time to prepare. The formal announcement will be made within the week. You'll meet her shortly thereafter."

Lucius nodded stiffly, his mind drifting to the many faces he had seen at court functions. Had he ever spoken to Lady Eltz? Did it matter?

Viktor rose, signaling the conversation's end. "Dismissed."

Lucius mouth went dry, and the words almost escaped him. "But... surely, I could—"

"No," Viktor interrupted sharply, his voice final. "You will marry her. It's been decided. You will strengthen our position. Your duty to the family must come before your personal feelings."

Lucius clenched his jaw. His grandfather's words weren't a request. They rarely were.

Viktor leaned forward, his fingers steepled as he studied Lucius with a piercing gaze. "You will marry her by the end of the month, Lucius. The future of the Vasilier dynasty depends on this. You understand that, don't you?"

Lucius swallowed hard. He could argue the point. But the weight of his duty was too strong. But still, the image of a blonde face, someone who had filled his thoughts in secret lingered in the back of his mind. He had no choice, no freedom to follow his heart. And that, more than anything, made the betrothal feel like hell.

Lucius's response was automatic while tightening his fists. "Of course, grandfather."

Viktor nodded slowly, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. "Good. Your father will make the arrangements. And you will meet her soon. You will do your duty, Lucius. You'll have your own role to play in this. You will ensure that the Vasilier name continues to rise."

As Lucius stood to leave, Viktor hand clapped down on his shoulder, the grip firm and possessive. "Remember, Lucius," his grandfather said quietly, "This is for the good of our family. The way of our family. Do not forget it."

Lucius gave a stiff nod, his mind still reeling. As he left the study, he found himself glancing up at the family banner a black banner with a white raven that hung just beside the marble wall. The raven's cold, lifeless eyes seemed to stare back at him, a reminder of the expectations that came with his name.

The Von Vasilier dynasty had risen quickly, but it would take more than that to keep it standing. Lucius knew this, as much as he hated the weight of it.

His duty had been decided. And now, there would be no turning back. The wise raven would watch, always.