Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

December 14, 1924, Sphepet Circle,

It was already night, and the snow fell steadily, blanketing the cobblestone streets in a layer of pristine white and the rooftops of the grand old houses, each adorned with intricate wrought iron gates and ivy-clad walls.

The air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon, wafting from the nearby bakeries preparing their holiday treats. Lamp posts cast a warm, golden glow across the snowy landscape, their light reflecting off the icy crystals and creating an almost magical ambience.

As the clock tower chimed, signalling just two hours until midnight, the streets remained surprisingly lively. The academy had declared an early holiday, and students of all ages meandered through the circle, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Some engaged in impromptu snowball fights, their wands abandoned in favour of the simple joy of packed snow.

Others huddled in small groups, sipping steaming cups of butterbeer and discussing their plans for the upcoming break.

In one of the houses on Sphepet Circle, a fire crackled merrily in the ornate fireplace of the sitting room. The flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, adorned with moving portraits of distinguished-looking Seifridges Ancestors. Plush armchairs and a luxurious sofa were arranged around a low table, upon which sat an assortment of crystal decanters filled with various spirits.

Pierre Seifridge, the newly minted merchant, reclined on the sofa, his arm draped casually around Jennifer's shoulders. Pierre had recently taken over a significant portion of his father's vast mercantile empire. His ruggedly handsome features were softened by the firelight, his dark hair slightly tousled from the wind outside.

Jennifer leaned into Pierre's embrace, her curls cascading over her shoulders. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with warmth as she sipped from a delicate crystal glass filled with elvish wine. Her robes, a shimmering silver, seemed to catch and reflect the firelight, giving her an ethereal glow.

Across from the couple, slouched in a high-backed leather armchair, sat Jaegar. He looked older than his years, his face bearing the subtle lines of one who had seen too much in too short a time. His once-pristine robes were now slightly worn at the edges. He stared into the depths of his firewhisky, the amber liquid reflecting in his stormy grey eyes while he stroked his long beard.

"It's hard to believe it's been more than a year since we left the Academy," Jennifer mused, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. "So much has changed."

Pierre nodded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Indeed. Who would have thought I'd be following in Father's footsteps so soon? Though I must say, having a house in every major city does have its perks." He grinned, some of his old schoolboy charm shining through.

Jaegar looked up from his glass, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "At least some things haven't changed. You're still as boastful as ever, Pierre."

The three friends shared a laugh, the sound momentarily drowning out the crackling of the fire.

As their mirth subsided, a more sombre mood settled over the room.

"Jaegar," Jennifer began hesitantly, "you mentioned... you were going to tell us about the past year. What happened after... after the incident?"

Jaegar's grip tightened on his glass, his knuckles whitening. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "It's not a pleasant tale, I'm afraid. But if there's anyone I can share it with, it's you two."

Pierre leaned forward, his expression serious. "We're here for you, old friend. Whatever you've been through, you don't have to bear it alone anymore."

Jaegar nodded, gratitude flashing in his eyes. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows across his face, highlighting the weariness etched into his features. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the tale he was about to unfold.

"It all started at the mountain cabin," he began his voice low and tinged with a hint of residual fear. "I was there to visit my mother's grave."

The others leaned in, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Jaegar's fingers tightened around his glass as he recounted the night of his kidnapping. He spoke of shadowy figures materializing from the mist, of a struggle that ended with a blast of magic he'd never encountered before.

"Next thing I knew, I was in the Kingdom," Jaegar continued, his gaze distant. He told about the people involved and what they did before they took him away.

Gasps of shock rippled through the small gathering. Their senior in the academy, Lorcan and Jaegar's brother. They knew that Lorcan was always hostile towards Jaegar, but they hadn't expected him to harbour such animosity.

"But why?" Jennifer interjected, her brow furrowed. "Why would they take you there?"

Jaegar's expression darkened. "I don't know exactly," he explained. "If I could guess, maybe it's because of my power. Or that he wanted to end me."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Pierre, ever one to lighten the mood, cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, my friend," he said, his tone genuine. "I am really glad that you overcame all those dangerous situations and are standing safe in front of us."

Then, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "But tell me one thing. You didn't miss your ladies even in all that misery, eh?"

Jennifer, sitting between his legs, released an exasperated sigh and smacked him lightly on the hand.

"Pierre!" she admonished, though a smile tugged at her lips.

"It's the truth." Pierre grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I'm just saying a man's priorities are important even in the face of danger," he replied with a wink.

"You are now asking for a beating," Jennifer turned her head to look at him.

"Alright, alright," Pierre sighed, raising his hands in defeat. Continue your saga on empire

The tension in the room broke, replaced by soft chuckles. Jaegar's laugh was the loudest, a cathartic release after the heaviness of his tale.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Outside, the snow continued to fall in thick, lazy flakes. It blanketed the landscape in pristine white, muffling the world beyond their warm sanctuary. The house stood like a beacon in the storm, a cocoon of light and warmth against the encroaching winter.