Fate's Forgotten Trickster

Chapter 8: The Nobles Who Fear the Unpredictable

The Forbidden History of Trickster Blood

Noctis sat in the dim glow of the candlelit study, his fingers trailing over the brittle, yellowed pages of The Chronicles of the Forgotten House. Each word pressed onto the aged parchment carried the weight of a lost history, one that had been erased from the minds of nobles and commoners alike.

He had searched tirelessly for answers about his bloodline—about the nature of the Trickster's Blood that now pulsed within his veins like a dormant storm waiting to be unleashed. The empire had done everything in its power to bury this knowledge, but here it was, hidden in the depths of the Umbrael archives, concealed beneath layers of dust and deception.

The first passage he read sent a chill down his spine.

"There once existed a bloodline capable of weaving illusions so perfect, they defied the boundaries of reality. To see them was to see a lie. To fight them was to fight shadows that never truly existed. The world was their stage, and every man, king or peasant, was a puppet in their unseen hands."

Noctis swallowed. His fingers tightened over the book's worn edges.

The empire had always feared those who wielded magic, but no other bloodline had been wiped from history as thoroughly as his own. Why?

His eyes flickered across the next passage, and the answer revealed itself in haunting detail.

"It was not their strength that doomed them, nor their ambition. It was their ability to turn truth into deception, loyalty into betrayal, and reality into a mere suggestion. They did not need swords or armies to topple kingdoms—they merely had to speak, and the world followed."

A sense of unease crept into his bones.

This power—it was unlike any noble gift he had ever heard of. Strength, fire, foresight—those were tangible, measurable. But this? This was something even more dangerous.

It was control over perception itself.

And in a world built on hierarchy and order, something like that could never be allowed to exist.

For centuries, the empire had been ruled by the Great Houses, noble families who wielded unique bloodline abilities that made them the foundation of imperial power. Noctis turned to another section of the book, detailing the greatest of these families and the abilities that made them feared.

The Great Noble Houses and Their Bloodline Powers:

House Solaris (The Sun's Wrath) – Wielders of holy flames, able to incinerate anything they deemed impure. Their light was said to expose all deception—except for one.

House Drakos (The Dragon's Legacy) – Blessed with inhuman strength, their warriors crushed armies and tore through fortresses with ease. They believed in overwhelming force, not subtlety.

House Lunaris (The Eyes of Fate) – Holders of clairvoyance, their bloodline allowed them to see into the future, making them nearly untouchable in politics and war. Yet, even they had once been deceived.

House Umbrael (The Silent Knife) – Masters of shadow magic, they moved unseen, assassins and spies without equal. Their power made them feared—but not untouchable.

House Erevar (The Trickster's Bloodline) – Their abilities were never recorded in full detail. But the records claimed they could change what others perceived as real—turning allies into enemies, twisting loyalty into treason, and rewriting reality itself.

Noctis exhaled, his mind racing.

The noble houses ruled through power and control.

House Solaris ruled by enforcing order and divine justice.

House Drakos ruled through fear and unbreakable might.

House Lunaris ruled by ensuring that nothing unexpected ever happened.

House Umbrael ruled from the shadows, eliminating threats before they could rise.

But House Erevar?

They ruled through unpredictability.

And that, more than anything, had been their greatest crime.

Noctis turned to the next section of the book.

It was an account of the last known Trickster before the bloodline was erased.

"The Last King of the Southern Dominion swore an unbreakable oath to the Emperor. He pledged eternal loyalty, sealed it with blood, and led his armies into battle… only for his own soldiers to turn their blades on each other. He had never sworn an oath at all. He had merely been tricked into believing he had."

A single illusion had collapsed an entire kingdom.

"The High Priest of Solaris once stood before the Emperor and declared a divine prophecy, foretelling the fall of House Erevar. His words echoed across the empire, a divine truth blessed by the gods. But on the eve of battle, he stood before the people again, this time screaming in horror, renouncing his gods, his faith crumbling before the masses. He had spoken his own words… or so he believed. In truth, he had merely spoken what the Trickster's Blood had whispered into his mind."

A single whisper had destroyed an empire's most trusted oracle.

This was why they had been feared.

Not because they could kill their enemies.

But because they could make their enemies kill themselves.

The official records claimed that House Erevar had fallen in battle, destroyed by the Emperor himself after they rebelled against the throne.

But the truth was different.

Noctis could see it clearly now.

There had never been a war.

Only a massacre.

House Erevar had never been given a chance to fight.

Their land had been surrounded in the dead of night, burned to the ground before dawn.

Their nobility had been executed without trial.

Their history had been rewritten to paint them as traitors.

And yet, some had survived.

Noctis was proof of that.

His very existence meant that the Trickster's Blood had not been completely erased.

The final passage of the book sent shivers down his spine.

"Before the last Trickster fell, he uttered a single curse upon the empire. His words were never recorded, but it is said that from that day forward, no Emperor has ever truly ruled with peace of mind. Shadows whisper in their halls, their most loyal knights betray them without reason, and the strongest oaths break without explanation."

Noctis exhaled slowly.

The empire had feared the Trickster's Blood so much that they had erased its history.

But by doing so, they had created the greatest illusion of all.

They had made the world forget that the bloodline ever existed.

And now, because of that, Noctis could walk among them unseen.

He could use this.

He would use this.

Noctis leaned back in his chair, closing the book.

He understood now.

The noble families of the empire thrived on predictability.

The Emperor ruled by making his subjects fear his power.

The Grand Houses maintained control by enforcing absolute loyalty.

But if the Trickster's Blood returned…

If illusions and deception once again corrupted the certainty of power…

The empire would collapse.

It was not brute strength that toppled rulers.

It was doubt.

A king who feared his advisors was no king at all.

A noble who doubted his vassals had no power.

An army that turned on itself had already lost.

Noctis smirked.

They feared unpredictability.

And he was going to become it.