In a room ordained with simple yet elegant design, a young man stood, immersed in a letter. On his desk, neatly compiled files detailing the candidates for his coming-of-age ceremony lay waiting.
The weight of expectation was a familiar mantle on Adam Von C. Regalia's fifteen-year-old shoulders. Today was his Age of Coming Ceremony, the day he would select a master whom he would serve for the entirety of his lifetime.
In the world of Eden Grandvannia, no lineage commanded more prestige than the Magical Butlers and Maids—not for inherited wealth or noble titles, but for an unparalleled dedication to their chosen masters.
They weren't mere servants; they were the ultimate caretakers, shrewd strategists, unwavering companions, and silent protectors.
His own family, the House of Regalia, was legendary even among them.
Whispers of his grandfather, Alexander Sebastian V. Regalia, still echoed through the polished halls and remained topics of conversation and stories in all countries and kingdoms.
A living legend, the stories claimed Alexander had once single-handedly stopped wars to protect his friend and chosen master, Great King Richard Oris Van C. Halvania.
Such feats weren't born of mere talent, but from the House of Regalia's unique, rigorous education.
Unlike other houses, theirs trained every child—firstborn or last, male or female—in all aspects imaginable: meticulous housework, grueling fieldwork, intricate crafting, vast knowledge of history and lore, the complexities of high politics, potent magic, and precise combat. No one was exempt; excellence was simply the standard. Adam had excelled in every discipline, a protégé whispered to be his grandfather's true successor.
Adam adjusted the cuffs of his pristine, impeccably tailored uniform. Woven from the fibers of a mystical plant and wool from an elusive divine sheep he had hunted himself, the fabric was imbued with multiple enchantments, cool and responsive against his skin. His mind, sharp and disciplined, had already reviewed the dossiers for the ceremony's candidates—the sons and daughters of Eden Grandvannia's most prominent aristocrats, nobility, and royalty.
"A pity," Adam murmured to himself, his voice a low, clear tone that spoke of meticulous vocal training. He picked up one of the dossiers, its intricate family crest staring back at him.
"Another one whose ambition far outstrips their capability. Or perhaps, worse, one with no ambition at all."
He let the file fall back onto the pile with a soft rustle.
"The protocol allows for a two-year journey should no suitable master present themselves," he mused, a faint frown creasing his brow. "I had considered drafting a letter to the patriarch, to formally request such an excursion. It seems the most logical path, given the current... lack of promising candidates."
He sighed, a barely perceptible release of air. "However, one must adhere to formality."
He ran a thumb over the polished wood of his desk.
"To simply abstain from the ceremony would be impolitic, and frankly, a waste of everyone's time. I will attend, of course. And during the selection, I shall merely state that I sense no greatness within the current pool. No one resonates with the unique calling of a Regalia."
A flicker of something akin to boredom, quickly suppressed, crossed his features. "It is not ideal, but it is the most efficient course of action for now."
He knew the protocol intimately: choose a master worthy of his absolute loyalty and his family's esteemed service, or, if none fit the stringent criteria, embark on a two-year quest to find one in the wider world. Failure to do even that meant returning to the family house, dedicating himself to serve the house and training the new generations. The path was clear, demanding, and utterly traditional.
He took a steadying breath, composed as ever. His jet-black hair shimmered, and his silver eyes reflected the muted light of the corridor as he approached the entrance to the Grand Hall. This was it. The culmination of fifteen years of relentless training, the moment his life's purpose would be cemented. He was ready to step into the light, ready to embrace the future that generations of Regalias had perfected.
But just as his hand reached for the ornate door handle, the very air before him rippled. It shimmered, distorted, and then tore open with a soft, pulling sound that defied physics.
A portal, colored light blue, glowing, and two-dimensional, its edges ordained with runes Adam had never encountered, pulsed in the space where polished stone had been. It wasn't a familiar magical effect, not one from any grimoire or lesson he'd ever studied. It was alien.
Adam's instincts, honed by years of combat and magical training, screamed at him to retreat, to analyze. Yet, a peculiar force, like an unseen hand reaching out, tugged at him. It wasn't violent, more like an insistent current.
Then, faint voices—a girl pleading—could be heard from within the portal. The language was foreign, unlike any he had encountered in the books and nations of Eden Grandvannia.
This unexpected sound caught his interest, and a fervent beat resonated in his heart, as if it had been expecting this encounter. It was the awakening of his dormant Regalia bloodline instinct, the same feeling his grandfather had spoken of when choosing his master—a deep sense that fate and destiny would ultimately dictate their bond.
"Interesting," Adam whispered, a genuine spark of curiosity now replacing his earlier composure. This was certainly more desirable than the presented candidates. This was... destiny.
Without any further hesitation, Adam closed his eyes and allowed the portal to fully engulf him. Beyond the meticulously prepared ceremony, the main participant was reported missing that day.
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Meanwhile, in Tristain Academy of Magic, the vast summoning field buzzed with the excited chatter of students, many proudly showcasing their newly summoned familiars.
"So, have we gone through everyone?" Professor Colbert, staff in hand, asked, his gaze sweeping over the students.
"No, not yet. Miss Vallière still isn't done," replied a red-haired, busty student named Kirche, stroking her successfully summoned familiar—a large, fire-breathing salamander at her side. She glanced pointedly in the direction of a pouting, pink-haired student.
"Miss Vallière, proceed to the center of the field to summon your familiar," Professor Colbert relayed to the pink-haired student.
The student, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, had no choice but to proceed to the dusty center of the field. Murmurs erupted among the surrounding students.
"Man, look, it's Louise the Zero."
"You think she can really do it this time?"
"I'm sure she can't. It'll be another explosion, and that'll be it."
Amidst the whispers, Kirche's taunt cut through the air.
"You said you'd summon something that would exceed this child, right, Louise?" she said, stroking her salamander familiar with an exaggerated flourish.
"Naturally, of course!" Louise shot back confidently, but behind the brave façade, worry gnawed at her. Her hands trembled, tightly clutching her wand.
"I beg you," she silently pleaded to herself.
Then, she chanted loudly, her voice wavering slightly:
"My servant, who lives somewhere in the Universe!"
Two students near the front exchanged bewildered glances.
"What kind of chant is that?"
"Well, it is quirky."
Louise pressed on, her voice growing firmer:
"Oh sacred, beautiful and strong familiar spirit!"
"Here I desire and plead from my heart!"
"Answer to my guidance!"
She waved her wand and pointed it in front of her. Boom! A tremendous explosion erupted, scattering dust across the field and sending students near the blast coughing.
"I knew this was going to happen!" someone groaned, amidst a chorus of coughs and grumbles.
"Are you okay, Montmorency?" a blonde-haired student asked, shielding her face.
The girl, Montmorency, sitting on the ground, stared wide-eyed at Louise. Her pointing finger trembled.
"Is that... a human?" she whispered, disbelief coloring her voice.
As the dust settled, an incredible sight emerged.
In front of Louise, unharmed and perfectly poised, stood a young man, perhaps the same age or slightly older than herself.
He was undisturbed by the explosion, standing regal and dignified amidst the lingering smoke. His lustrous jet-black hair fluttered gently, and eyes of silver glimmered with an unyielding expectation, fixed directly on Louise.
Louise found herself staring back into those silver eyes, an inexplicable pull making it impossible to look away.
The young man spoke, his voice clear and resonant, though in a language she did not understand. He seemed to ask:
"Thou the one summoned me?"
"Are you my destined Master?"
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[Notes: This is an experimental fanfic Idea.]