The Last Celestial Tamer

Chapter 3

Morning arrived beneath clear skies.

The heavy rain from the previous night had vanished, leaving the Ashcroft estate bright and refreshed. Golden sunlight washed over the marble towers, sparkling fountains, and colorful flower gardens, while birds sang from the trees as though the world itself had already forgotten yesterday's storm.

For Lucien Ashcroft, however, nothing had changed.

He woke before dawn, just as he always did. His morning began with two heavy buckets of water hauled from the well behind the servants' quarters. Every step sent a sharp sting through his sore hands as the rough rope scraped against the fresh cuts he had earned the day before, but he clenched his teeth and continued without complaint.

No one offered to help him. No one ever did.

After filling the kitchen's water barrels, he spent the next hour chopping firewood until his shoulders burned with exhaustion. When that task was finished, he swept the front courtyard before moving on to clean the horse stables. By the time the first morning bell echoed across the estate, his clothes were already stained with dirt, sweat, and bits of straw.

As he carried a bundle of tools toward the storage shed, a young kitchen maid came running across the courtyard.

"Lucien!"

He looked up in surprise.

The girl couldn't have been older than sixteen, and her cheeks were flushed from running. "You've been summoned."

Lucien frowned. "Summoned?"

She nodded quickly. "To the main dining hall."

His heart immediately sank.

The main dining hall.

He had only been called there a handful of times during his life, and none of those occasions had ended well.

The maid lowered her voice before speaking again. "They're all waiting."

A look of pity crossed her face before she hurried back toward the kitchens.

Lucien remained where he stood for several long moments.

A knot formed in his stomach.

He couldn't explain why, but he had a strong feeling that today would be different. Not better. Just... different.

He wiped the dirt from his hands onto his worn trousers before making his way toward the largest building on the estate.

Under the morning sun, Ashcroft Manor looked even more magnificent than usual. Tall white pillars framed the grand entrance, while golden banners fluttered from every balcony in the gentle breeze. Servants rushed through the open doors carrying polished silver trays piled high with delicious food.

The rich aroma drifted through the air, making Lucien's empty stomach tighten with hunger.

Fresh bread. Roasted meat. Sweet fruit. Warm butter. They were foods he rarely had the chance to taste.

He climbed the wide marble staircase, the very steps he had scrubbed spotless only the day before.

A servant standing at the entrance pushed the massive doors open without sparing him a glance. "You are late."

Lucien briefly looked toward the giant clock hanging inside the entrance hall. "I arrived before the second bell."

The servant merely shrugged. "They have been waiting."

Lucien chose not to argue. He quietly stepped inside and walked into the dining hall.

The room was enormous.

A magnificent dining table stretched across nearly the entire length of the hall, while crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead beneath the high ceiling. Golden morning light poured through towering stained-glass windows, bathing everything in warm colors.

Nearly thirty members of the Ashcroft family were already seated around the table.

Every chair was occupied. Every chair except one.

No place had ever been prepared for Lucien.

Instead, an empty space beside the wall waited for him, as though even standing was considered more than he deserved.

Lady Eleanor sat at the head of the table.

Even in her old age, she carried herself with the quiet authority of a queen. Her silver hair was tied neatly behind her head, and the expensive enchantments woven into her dark green dress shimmered softly beneath the morning light.

Everyone seated at the table respected her.

Most of them feared her even more.

To her right sat Cassian Ashcroft. Eighteen years old. Handsome. Confident.

The undisputed pride of the Ashcroft family.

Tomorrow he would attend the Soul Familiar Ascension Ceremony, and nearly everyone believed he would awaken an extraordinary familiar worthy of the family's name.

The moment Lucien entered the room, every conversation came to an abrupt stop.

Dozens of eyes turned toward him. Not a single face welcomed him with a smile.

Lady Eleanor calmly lifted her teacup before speaking. "Stand there."

Lucien walked to the familiar empty space beside the wall and folded his hands behind his back.

No one offered him a seat. No one offered him breakfast.

A servant carrying a basket of freshly baked bread walked past him, and the warm scent almost made him dizzy with hunger. The servant never acknowledged his presence and continued serving everyone else as though Lucien were invisible.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the hall while the family continued eating as if he were nothing more than another piece of furniture.

Several long minutes passed before anyone finally spoke.

Cassian leaned back comfortably in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Grandmother."

Lady Eleanor looked toward him. "Yes?"

"I've been thinking."

"Oh?"

Cassian slowly turned his wine glass between his fingers. "The royal birth records are rather strange."

Several relatives looked up with interest. 

"What do you mean?" one of his uncles asked.

Cassian's smile widened as he looked directly at Lucien. "They list every noble birth." He paused deliberately before adding, "Every legitimate birth."

A few younger cousins laughed quietly.

Lucien kept his eyes lowered.

Cassian continued in a calm, almost conversational tone. "I searched through the older records. And do you know what I found?" He let the question linger for a moment. "Nothing."

One of Lucien's younger cousins placed a hand dramatically over his mouth.

"Nothing?"

Cassian nodded with exaggerated seriousness. "Nothing about our dear Lucien's father."

Laughter rippled around the table.

"It's almost as though..." Cassian said, leaning forward slightly, "...no one knows who the man was."

Several relatives burst into louder laughter.

Another cousin smirked. "Perhaps even his mother didn't know."

The laughter spread through the hall once again.

Lucien slowly tightened his fists behind his back. He refused to speak.

Cassian wasn't finished. "I've heard quite a few interesting stories."

"Oh?" another relative encouraged.

"One rumor claims his father was a wandering thief."

Several people laughed.

"I heard he was nothing more than a drunk," another cousin added.

Someone farther down the table joined in. "I heard he worked as a stable hand."

An older uncle shook his head with a mocking smile. "No, no. I heard he wasn't even human."

The room erupted with even louder laughter.

Lucien lowered his head a little further.

Every cruel word struck him like a stone. Not because he believed them. Because he had no answer to deny them. He truly didn't know who his father was.

His mother had disappeared before he was old enough to remember her face. She had left behind no letters, no stories, and no explanation—only rumors whispered by people who had hated her for as long as he could remember.

Cassian rested his elbow on the table and smiled. "Tell us, Lucien."

The laughter slowly faded until the room became silent once again.

"Who was your father?"

Lucien slowly lifted his eyes. "I don't know."

Cassian's smile grew even wider. "Exactly."

Another wave of laughter echoed throughout the dining hall.

Cassian clapped his hands together once. "Our family tree is filled with kings, generals, scholars, and powerful mages." His gaze settled on Lucien again. "And then..." He gave a careless shrug. "...there's him."

One cousin sighed dramatically. "What terrible luck."

Another chuckled before adding, "The Ashcroft bloodline itself must be ashamed."

A burning heat rose inside Lucien's chest. He wanted to answer them. He wanted to tell them they knew nothing about him or his mother.

But what could he possibly say? He had no proof. No memories.

Only questions that no one had ever answered.