《Thirteenth Prince's Odyssey》


 The Rite of Recognition - I

    The grand hall of Ironhelm Castle gleamed with radiance as sunlight streamed through its towering stained-glass windows. Chandeliers of polished crystal hung suspended in perfect symmetry, their countless facets scattering a kaleidoscope of light across the polished obsidian floors. Massive tapestries adorned the walls, each depicting the triumphs and lineage of House Orlean, the kingdom''s proud heritage woven into every thread.


    The air inside was heavy with the scent of beeswax candles, freshly cut flowers, and the faint tang of polished steel from the ceremonial guards stationed at every corner.


    Servants moved with hurried precision, their footsteps muffled against the stone floors as they carried trays of food, goblets of wine, and freshly pressed garments to their intended places. The soft murmur of their whispers mingled with their rhythmic preparation, filling the space with a sense of quiet urgency.


    It was no ordinary day. The occasion was twofold: the thirteenth birthday of Prince Liam and the Rite of Recognition, a tradition steeped in history.


    On this day, the 17th of Elden, in the 24th year of King Elijah Orlean''s reign, the youngest son of the Ironhelm dynasty would take his first official step into the royal race for the throne.


    The hall brimmed with nobles in resplendent attire, their hushed whispers and speculation weaving in the hall like invisible threads. Outside the windows, the faint toll of the bell tower echoed across the castle grounds, announcing the ceremony''s imminent start.


    It was a day meant for celebration, yet an undercurrent of tension threaded its way through the gathered crowd. For Liam, the thirteenth prince, was an enigma. No feats of mana had been witnessed in him, no promising talent to speak of. Among the court, he was not viewed as a challenger but as a mere formality ¡ª a shadow among brighter stars.


    And yet, the one at the heart of this ceremony ¡ª the boy who should command their focus ¡ª was nowhere to be seen.


    *


    Liam woke with a start, the muffled bustle of activity outside his chambers pulling him from restless dreams.


    The golden light of the afternoon sun streamed through the tall arched windows of his room, casting warm patterns across the stone walls and the tangle of sheets he had kicked to the floor during the night.


    Blinking away the haze of sleep, he waved a hand lazily, and the heavy curtains drew back. The windows creaked open with the faint hum of Telekinesis, inviting in a gentle breeze that stirred the stagnant air. With a sigh, Liam moved toward the grooming chamber.


    Holding his hand just above the water basin, he flicked his wrist. A faint luminescence bloomed at his fingertips, a soft, silvery-blue glow that shimmered like starlight reflecting on a lake. The Freeze spell sank into the still water, chilling it instantly, sending tendrils of cool mist rising into the warm air. Liam splashed the enchanted water over his face, the crisp coldness jolting him fully awake.


    Straightening his rumpled blue tunic, he then turned toward the door, his gaze lingering on the thick plank he had deliberately placed to bar anyone from forcing their way in.


    The locks on the door had already been disabled by magic earlier in the morning ¡ª an intrusion that hadn''t gone unnoticed. But Liam had anticipated this and had secured the door with the heavy plank as a final measure to ensure no one could disturb him while he rested.


    He gripped the plank firmly, lifting it with a grunt and setting it aside. As the heavy door creaked open, he was greeted by the sight of his butler flanked by two maids - Mara, a petite young woman with neatly tied auburn hair and sharp, observant eyes, stood beside Trisha.


    The butler''s sharp, disapproving gaze met Liam''s, his lips pressed into a thin line. The maids, standing nervously behind him, glanced between Liam and the freshly removed plank, clearly unsure whether to speak or wait for the butler to address the situation.


    The butler, an older man with a neatly trimmed beard and a posture as rigid as the palace gates, folded his hands behind his back, stepping just inside the doorway. His deep voice carried the weight of practiced authority as he regarded Liam with a mixture of sternness and patience.


    "Master Liam," he began, his tone calm but with a trace of warmth, "while I normally don''t concern myself with the hours you choose to wake, today is different. This is your day ¡ª your Rite of Recognition. The court awaits, and I would hate for you to face unnecessary displeasure from His Majesty."


    Liam met the butler''s gaze evenly, his expression unreadable. "I''m aware, Edwin," he replied coolly, leaning the plank carefully against the wall.


    Liam crossed his arms, his youthful features betraying a flicker of irritation. "I didn''t ask to be woken before the sun was fully up. It''s my day, after all. Surely, they can wait a few more minutes for the least important prince to make his grand entrance."


    Edwin''s lips tightened, though his eyes held a glimmer of understanding. "You may feel overlooked, Master Liam, but that doesn''t mean you should play into their expectations. The Rite is more than just a formality ¡ª it''s a moment to show who you are, even if the court hasn''t seen it yet."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Liam shrugged, the hint of a smirk lingering. "I''m sure they''ll see exactly what they expect."


    The maids behind Edwin shifted nervously but stepped forward at his subtle nod. "Come," Edwin said, his voice softer now, "let''s get you dressed properly. You''re a prince, Master Liam, whether they believe it or not. Let us ensure you look the part."


    Without protest, Liam allowed the maids to guide him to a chair near the window. They worked quickly but carefully, straightening his tunic, securing a thin belt with the royal crest, and fitting his ceremonial boots. One adjusted his hair, smoothing the stubborn strand that always curled rebelliously against the rest.


    Edwin observed silently, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. When the maids stepped back with murmured approval, he gave a satisfied nod.


    Liam stood, tugging slightly at the stiff fabric. Brushing past Edwin into the corridor, he spoke, "Let''s get this over with."


    *


    The grand doors of the hall creaked open, drawing the attention of every noble, knight, and courtier present. Conversations were hushed. All eyes turned toward the boy who entered, his small frame momentarily dwarfed by the towering doors behind him.


    Liam stepped forward.


    Dressed in ceremonial robes of deep sapphire, trimmed with silver embroidery, he exuded an understated elegance that contrasted sharply with his youth. His black hair, smoothed neatly by the maids, caught the light of the crystal chandeliers, and his pale, sharp features bore an expression of calm detachment, as though he were entirely unaffected by the hundreds of gazes fixed on him.


    He walked alone, unaccompanied by Edwin, who was now alongside other servants of the House of Orlean. His emerald-green eyes, swept over the assembled crowd briefly before landing on the gilded dais at the center of the hall.


    The line of his twelve brothers stood before him, their poised and practiced stances a stark contrast to Liam''s measured ease. Whispers rippled among the courtiers ¡ª some curious, others dismissive ¡ª wondering if the thirteenth prince, the boy with no known talent for mana, could truly be worthy of this moment.


    Liam came to a stop at the foot of the dais, his hands resting lightly at his sides. His expression betrayed no nerves, no insecurity, only a quiet resolve. With a final glance toward his father''s throne, he awaited his arrival.


    Before the king could make his entrance, a tall figure broke away from the line of princes.


    Adrian, the eldest, strode forward with confidence. His golden hair gleamed under the light, and his warm, easy smile softened the otherwise imposing figure of the firstborn son.


    "Liam," Adrian said, his voice carrying across the hall as he extended his arms. "Congratulations, little brother. Today marks your first step into the legacy of our house."


    The crowd watched as Adrian pulled Liam into a firm embrace, a gesture of brotherly affection that seemed genuine, yet undoubtedly carried the weight of his polished image. Liam returned the hug with a faint smile, his arms briefly wrapping around his brother before stepping back.


    "It''s good to see you, brother," Liam said, his tone polite yet guarded. "I appreciate the encouragement."


    Before Adrian could respond, another figure emerged from the line. Malcolm, the fifth prince, followed with a grin that was far less formal but equally warm. His dark brown hair was slightly disheveled, and his casual demeanor stood in contrast to Adrian''s regal bearing.


    "About time you joined the fold, Liam," Malcolm said, clapping a hand on his younger brother''s shoulder. "For the record, I''d bet good coin you''ll surprise a few of these stiff-necked nobles before long."


    Liam chuckled, a genuine sound this time. "I wouldn''t take that bet, brother. It''s not exactly a safe wager."


    Malcolm laughed in return. The bond between the three brothers was evident ¡ª born of the same mother, they shared a connection that the others lacked, even amidst the rivalries and politics of the royal court.


    As if prompted by this show of unity, the remaining brothers began to approach one by one. Each offered their own version of congratulations, though their intentions varied. Some, like the third prince, the eldest of his step-brothers, wore a thinly veiled mask of condescension, as if fulfilling a chore. Others, such as the ninth, offered only a stiff nod, his eyes betraying a calculating glint.


    Liam accepted each gesture with the same polite indifference, maintaining the composed demeanor he had practiced so carefully. While some of his brothers sought to intimidate or assert their superiority, others appeared genuine in their encouragement, though Liam knew better than to trust any display of goodwill at face value.


    Before the line of princes could fully settle, a group of sisters began to approach from the hall''s side entrances.


    Liam turned his gaze toward them, noting the variety of expressions they wore, ranging from pride to playful amusement. Though none of them stood in line for succession, their presence in court still carried subtle weight, each tied to alliances and their mother''s political influence.


    The eldest sibling, Cassandra, his sole blood-related sister. Draped in a flowing gown of royal blue, arrived first.


    Her movements were poised and deliberate, her sharp features softened by a rare smile. "Happy birthday, brother," she said, her voice warm but tinged with the authority she carried as one of the kingdom''s most influential figures. "You''ve grown so much since the last time we spoke. Today, you step into a role that will define you. I hope you''re prepared."


    "Thank you, sister," Liam replied, bowing his head slightly. "I''ll try to meet everyone''s expectations ¡ª though I imagine they aren''t particularly high."


    Cassandra gave a soft laugh, brushing a strand of dark hair over her shoulder. "Low expectations can work in your favor, little brother. Just remember that."


    Behind her, the twins, Elaine and Eveline, second and third among his sisters, followed. Their identical features were marked by the same mischievous glint in their amber eyes. "Liam, look at you!" Elaine exclaimed, clasping his hands. "The baby of the family is finally growing up."


    "He cleans up well, doesn''t he?" Eveline added with a teasing grin. "Though I suppose the maids deserve the credit for that."


    Liam rolled his eyes but allowed himself a small smile. "You''re both as insufferable as ever. I''ll take that as a compliment."


    The twins laughed in unison, their lively energy drawing smiles even from some of the watching courtiers.


    The youngest of his sisters, Cecily, delicate and shy, approached hesitantly. At only nine, she clutched a small bouquet of wildflowers in her hands, clearly plucked from the gardens rather than arranged by any palace servant. "Happy birthday, brother," she murmured, offering the bouquet.


    Liam knelt slightly to take the flowers, his expression softening. "Thank you, sister. These are beautiful."


    The interactions with his sisters were far less complicated than those with his brothers, though Liam still remained cautious. In the royal family, even affection could be layered with subtle intentions. As the sisters returned to their places among the nobles, the hall fell silent once more, the anticipation for King Elijah''s arrival reaching its peak.

 The Rite of Recognition - II

    The grand oak doors of the hall swung open with a measured, deliberate grace, as though the castle itself sought to honour the man who now entered.


    King Elijah Orlean stepped forward, his presence casting a palpable weight over the gathered nobility. His appearance was nothing short of striking ¡ª a living legend who, despite his fifty-one years, bore the youthful vigour of a man in his late twenties.


    The glow of mana coursed through his veins, a silent testament to the unmatched mastery that had elevated him to the pinnacle of the hardest profession in existence: Champion Swordsman.


    He had come directly from the frontlines, his return marked by urgency and a singular purpose. The Rite of Recognition could have been postponed ¡ª wars were raging, and borders needed defending. Yet Elijah had never delayed this sacred ceremony for any of his twelve other sons, and his youngest would be no exception.


    It was a principle he upheld, an vow that no matter the circumstances, the 13th birthday of a prince was to be honoured without fail.


    He was accompanied by the three queens of the kingdom, each a striking figure in their own right.


    To his right walked Queen Isabella, the eldest, her silver gown flowing like liquid moonlight. Her expression was serene, a picture of calculated poise. To his left, Queen Seraphina, fiery and commanding, her crimson attire mirroring her sharp and unyielding personality. Finally, at his rear walked Queen Elara, the youngest of the three, draped in emerald, her gentle demeanour offset by an air of quiet intelligence.


    Together, they formed a procession of grace and power, a unified symbol of the kingdom''s strength.


    Elijah''s own attire spoke of his dual identity as both monarch and warrior. A fitted tunic of midnight blue, trimmed in gold and etched with runes of protection, clung to his lean, muscular frame. Over it, he wore a long cloak of black fur, the edges singed faintly with an iridescent shimmer ¡ª a mark of his time spent on mana-scarred battlefields. His ceremonial sword hung at his hip, its pommel aglow with a faint white light that pulsed like a heartbeat, a subtle reminder of the bond forged between a champion and their blade.


    The king''s youthful face, framed by shoulder-length black hair with a silver streak at his temple, betrayed none of the weariness of war.


    His piercing silver eyes swept across the hall with a calm yet commanding intensity, locking onto every face in turn, before finally landing on Liam. It was an expression both unreadable and heavy with unspoken expectations, the kind of gaze that had reduced even the fiercest knights to silence.


    As he approached the dais, the faint aroma of ozone accompanied him, a remnant of the mana that clung to his very being. His steps were deliberate, each one echoing through the hall as though the stones beneath him acknowledged his mastery. The air seemed charged in his wake, a sensation akin to the calm before a storm.


    The queens walked behind him in dignified silence, their gowns trailing like rippling waves of silver, crimson, and emerald. Together, the royal procession ascended the dais, their presence radiating an undeniable aura of authority.


    When Elijah finally came to a halt, he turned his gaze fully onto Liam, the hall falling into an almost oppressive silence. And now, with the court assembled, it was time for the Rite of Recognition to begin.


    As the room held its collective breath, King Elijah''s voice broke the silence, resonant and commanding, yet carrying a rare warmth.


    "Prince Liam," he began, stepping closer to the youngest of his sons, "today marks an important milestone in your life. First, allow me to wish you a happy 13th birthday." His stern expression softened ever so slightly, the corner of his lips tugging into a faint smile.


    "Thank you, Your Majesty," Liam replied, bowing deeply in respect. When he straightened, his gaze met his father''s silver eyes with quiet determination. "It''s an honor to stand here today."


    Elijah chuckled softly, the sound surprising a few courtiers. "You carry yourself with confidence, I see. Good. Confidence will serve you well, though I hope it is rooted in truth and preparation." He glanced briefly at Liam''s attire, then back at his face. "Have you been preparing for this day?"


    "To the best of my ability, Your Majesty," Liam replied evenly, a small flicker of defiance hidden in his otherwise calm tone.


    Elijah gave a slow nod, his sharp eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts. "We shall see soon enough. Let us begin."


    The king gestured to the Archmage Cleric, Caelus of the Azure Spire. A tall, gaunt man whose robes glistened with intricate runic symbols.


    The Azure Spire, over which he presided, was Ironhelm''s bastion of magical healing and bodily study, its knowledge predating the early days of the kingdom.


    Stepping forward, Archmage Caelus inclined his head to the king before turning his attention to Liam. "Prince Liam, I will now examine the essence of your bloodline and mana flow. Hold still."


    Caelus extended his hands slightly, palms facing upward, as faint threads of magic began to weave into the air. At first, the energy shimmered delicately, barely visible, but soon it coalesced into an intricate lattice of soft blue light. The glowing web surrounded Liam, pulsing gently in rhythm with the boy''s own mana, as though alive.


    The spell, Mana Ripple, was designed to measure how an individual''s mana interacted ¡ª or repelled ¡ª against an external source. It was a meticulous and precise spell, rarely used for critical evaluations. Its results were notoriously challenging to interpret, but Caelus''s years of expertise allowed to glean meaningful insights.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The hall grew deathly silent as the magic intensified, the lattice expanding and contracting in tandem with Liam''s subtle breaths. Every ripple in the aura seemed to mirror Liam''s own mana signature, as if measuring his potential on a molecular level. Caelus''s face remained impassive, his focus unwavering, though his sharp gaze flickered now and then with something resembling curiosity ¡ª or concern.


    The light examined every inch of Liam''s form, the lattice flowing over him in measured waves. The rhythm grew stronger, deliberate, as though the spell was searching for something hidden.


    After several moments, the glow began to dim, its brightness receding until only faint traces of the lattice lingered in the air. Finally, the threads of magic dissolved entirely, vanishing like smoke carried away by the wind.


    Caelus lowered his hands slowly, his expression unreadable. The silence that followed felt oppressive, the tension in the room palpable as everyone awaited his verdict.


    "No anomalies detected," he announced, the words ringing out like a bell. "Prince Liam possesses a standard bloodline and normal mana flow. No unique variations to speak of."


    A murmur swept through the audience, restrained but unmistakable. The absence of a unique bloodline was no great surprise, but it was enough to lower already modest expectations. Liam''s face remained impassive. He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the result without a word.


    Liam bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Master Caelus."


    Next came the oracle, Thalion, Master of the Illusionary Tower. An elderly man draped in pale gray robes. His gaze was piercing, as if he could see through flesh and bone into the very soul. "Prince Liam," he intoned, "I will peer into your potential and your character. The future is always uncertain, but the probabilities can guide us."


    His fell into a low murmur as he extended his hands ¡ª Divination. A faint grayish glow surrounded Liam. After a moment, the oracle straightened and spoke, his tone neutral.


    "Prince Liam, your path is one of steadfastness and discipline. Your potential aligns most strongly with the spear ¡ª a profession that requires focus, adaptability, and perseverance. The chance of excelling as a spear-man is notable, though not exceptional. As for leadership¡­ your odds of ascending the throne are slim, though not impossible. Time will test your resolve."


    "Thank you, Master Thalion," Liam nodded, with an unhinged expression.


    With the formalities complete, both Archmages turned their attention to King Elijah, bowing in unison.


    "Your Majesty," they intoned, their voices harmonizing in a ritualistic cadence.


    "Masters," Elijah replied, his tone warm but authoritative. "Your service to Ironhelm and House of Orlean has been unwavering. I thank you for your assistance."


    "Your Majesty is wise," they bowed.


    Finally, it was King Elijah''s turn. As he approached his son, the air in the hall grew heavier. His hands were held back, and his expression remained inscrutable.


    "Hold your ground," he said calmly, his voice sharp and commanding.


    The room grew silent as, a wave of invisible energy swept outward from Elijah. It was Aura Suppression, a controlled projection of his mana and presence. The weight of it was immense, pressing against Liam like an unrelenting tide.


    Liam staggered slightly, his knees threatening to buckle under the strain. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and planted his feet firmly, refusing to yield. Sweat beaded on his brow, and the courtiers watched with bated breath.


    After what felt like an eternity, Elijah withdrew his aura. Liam stood trembling but upright, his breathing ragged. The king observed him for a long moment before nodding. "You have strength, but it is raw and unrefined. At best, you may one day rise to the realm of Champion. It will take relentless effort, but the potential is there."


    The combined results were grim: no unique bloodline traits, moderate potential as a spear-man, and the possibility of becoming a Champion at most. The implication was clear ¡ª Liam''s chances of claiming the throne were next to impossible.


    The Grand Hall held its breath as the weight of the assessment settling over the gathered nobles. Liam, however, remained stoic, his expression betraying none of the disappointment that churned within others.


    Soon the crowd began to stir, breaking the silence with murmurs and rustling garments. As was customary in the court, their reactions were a mixture of genuine sympathy, masked opportunism, and calculated diplomacy.


    Some nobles approached Liam directly, offering polite congratulations and carefully measured words of consolation. "You did well, Prince Liam," said one count, his smile thin and practiced. "The path to greatness is not always evident in its beginnings."


    Another baron chimed in, his tone overly warm. "Your resolve is commendable, Prince Liam. Such composure at your age is rare and admirable."


    Liam nodded and responded with equally polished courtesies, his demeanor unshaken, though he could feel the veiled pity in their words. Their intentions were clear ¡ª they sought to maintain favor with the royal family, but they had already dismissed him as a serious contender for the throne.


    As the political dance continued, Liam''s family began to approach. Adrian placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don''t let their words weigh on you, Liam," he said, his tone steady and supportive. "We all start somewhere, and you''ve shown more resolve than many here ever will."


    Liam managed a small smile. "Thank you, brother. It means more than you know."


    Malcolm leaned in with a wry grin. "Well, they might not think much of us, but I''d still wager a few coins on you surprising them all one day."


    Liam chuckled softly. "I hope your coin purse isn''t too full. You already lost a lot today.."


    Malcolm clapped Liam on the back before stepping aside.


    Cassandra cupped Liam''s cheek briefly, a rare gesture of affection from someone so poised. "You handled that with grace, little brother," she said softly. "No matter what they say or think, never forget that you''re one of us. And that means you''re capable of more than anyone here realizes."


    Liam nodded, his throat tight. "Thank you, sister."


    Finally, his mother, Queen Isabella, approached, her usual regal composure shaken. She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "My son," she whispered, her voice heavy with guilt. "I¡­ "


    Liam shook his head, taking her hand gently in his own. "Mother, don''t ¡ª none of this is your fault. I am who I am, and I''ll find my own way, no matter what others think."


    A single tear slipped down Isabella''s cheek as she smiled through her sorrow. "You''ve always been strong, Liam. Stronger than they''ll ever know. Promise me you won''t let this hold you back."


    "I promise," Liam said firmly, his resolve strengthening in the face of her emotion.


    The tranquil moment shared between mother and son stood in contrast to the gathered crowd. For a fleeting instant, it seemed as if the world around them had vanished. But soon, the ceremony moved on, and Liam stepped back into the orbit of his family and the watchful eyes of the kingdom.


    Meanwhile, a different group of nobles gathered near King Elijah, their gestures deliberate and their motives transparent. They stood with their daughters, each dressed in fine silks and adorned with jewels, hoping to secure alliances. "Your Majesty," one duke began, his tone ingratiating, "might I present my eldest daughter, Lady Daphne? She has long admired the House of Orlean and hopes to serve it one day."


    Elijah received these overtures with the patience of a king well-accustomed to such tactics, his expression impassive. His focus, however, remained on Liam, his sharp eyes observing every nuance of the young prince''s behavior.


    The ceremony had only confirmed what many already believed. Yet, as Liam met his father''s piercing gaze, a quiet fire burned in his chest.

 The Rite of Recognition - III

    As the ceremony stretched into the evening, Liam stood among the gathered nobles and family, enduring the endless cycle of greetings, congratulations, and carefully veiled platitudes. His responses were calm and courteous, though the weight of the day pressed heavily on his young shoulders, a silent burden he bore with practiced composure.


    Then it hit him ¡ª a sudden, searing headache that seemed to bloom behind his eyes and radiate through his skull. The pain was sharp and unrelenting, unlike anything he had ever felt before. He fought to keep his composure, forcing his expression to remain neutral even as the world around him seemed to blur slightly.


    "Are you all right, Master Liam?" his butler, Edwin, murmured discreetly, leaning in close enough that only Liam could hear.


    "I''m fine," Liam whispered, though his voice was tight. "Just tired."


    Edwin''s brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Shall I prepare your chambers for some rest?"


    Liam gave a slight nod before turning to those around him. "If you''ll excuse me," he said softly, his tone courteous but firm. "I think the excitement of the day has taken its toll. Thank you all for your kind words."


    The nobles offered polite farewells, and Liam exchanged a few more words with his brothers and sisters before stepping away from the crowd, Edwin quietly guiding him toward the exit.


    From the dais, Archmage Caelus watched Liam''s departure with a furrowed brow. His piercing gaze lingered on the young prince, his expression thoughtful but tinged with concern.


    Beside him, King Elijah''s sharp eyes also tracked his youngest son''s exit. His posture remained regal, but a faint tension in the set of his jaw betrayed his unease. He spoke quietly to Caelus without turning his gaze away.


    "It''s happening, isn''t it?" Elijah said, his voice low but firm, tinged with a faint edge of regret.


    Caelus inclined his head slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty. His mana pulse during the assessment confirmed it. Irregular, unstable, and faint. Whatever lies dormant within him¡­ it is beginning to stir."


    Elijah exhaled slowly, his expression hardening. "I had hoped it would remain dormant for longer. Perhaps even fade entirely."


    Caelus hesitated before speaking again, his tone cautious yet urgent. "Your Majesty, this is unlike anything I''ve encountered in all my years. His pulse is faint ¡ª dangerously so. If left unchecked, it may dwindle further, and he¡­" The cleric paused, as if reluctant to say the words. "He may lose what little connection to mana he has entirely. He could become mortal."


    The king turned fully to Caelus now, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "He doesn''t know, and he must not know ¡ª not until we are certain of what this truly is. I will not burden him with this prematurely."


    Caelus bowed his head in acknowledgment, though his expression remained grim. "As you command, Your Majesty. But if I may counsel you, we cannot delay preparation indefinitely. Whatever stirs within him, it will not wait for us to understand it on our terms. Time is not on our side."


    Elijah''s gaze softened briefly, just for a moment, before his expression turned resolute. "This remains between us, Caelus. Until I say otherwise, no one else is to know."


    "As you wish, Your Majesty," Caelus replied, his tone heavy with reluctant agreement.


    The king''s eyes shifted back to the doors through which Liam had disappeared. Though his outward demeanor remained composed, his mind churned with thoughts of uncertainty and foreboding. Whatever lay ahead for his youngest son, Elijah silently vowed, he would ensure Liam was prepared for it ¡ª no matter the cost.


    Liam and Edwin hurried through the corridors of Ironhelm Castle, the maids rushing alongside them with worried glances. Liam walked briskly, one hand pressed subtly against his temple as if to steady himself. Edwin followed close behind, his face etched with concern.


    "Master Liam," Edwin ventured cautiously, his voice low yet insistent. "This isn''t just fatigue, is it? Please, tell me ¡ª "


    "I''ll be fine," Liam interrupted, his tone clipped but steady. "A light sleep will ease it."


    Edwin frowned but said nothing more, recognizing the finality in the young prince''s voice. As they reached Liam''s chambers, the prince dismissed the maids with a curt nod, pushing the doors open and stepping inside.


    Edwin followed, watching as Liam strode across the room and reached for the thick wooden plank leaning against the wall. "Master Liam," the butler began, his tone filled with both confusion and worry. "What are you doing?"


    "I want no one disturbing me," Liam replied flatly, lifting the plank.


    Edwin stepped closer, his voice softening. "I understand your need for rest, but this¡­ this isn''t necessary. You shouldn''t ¡ª "


    "Nothing will happen to me, Edwin," Liam said, his voice calm but firm. "I just need time alone. That''s all."


    He paused, glancing at the heavy plank in his hands.


    It''s not as if they''d approve anti-magic locks for my doors just so I can laze around inside, he thought bitterly. The royal stewards would dismiss such a request outright, and it would only bring unwanted attention. This crude method was his only option.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The butler hesitated, torn between obedience and concern, but eventually sighed and stepped back. "Very well, Master Liam. I''ll have someone stationed outside should you need anything."


    Liam turned to Edwin, giving a faint nod. "Goodnight, Edwin," he said quietly.


    Without waiting for a response, he closed the heavy doors and secured them with the wooden plank.


    The butler bowed slightly, lingering for a moment before leaving the room. As the heavy doors shut and the sound of footsteps faded, silence engulfed the chamber.


    Liam''s expression shifted the moment he was alone. The calm facade he had maintained throughout the day melted away, replaced by a determined focus. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hands, his fingers weaving through the air in precise, practiced movements.


    The first spell he cast was Levitation. A soft hum filled the air as his body lifted several feet off the ground, suspended as though gravity had momentarily lost its hold. His feet left the polished stone floor, and he hovered midair, isolated from every surface in the room.


    Next, Liam turned his gaze toward the tall windows that framed his chamber. With a sharp gesture, he cast Telekinesis, and the glass panes slammed shut with an audible thud. The heavy curtains, drawn to the sides, whipped into place as if commanded by unseen hands, casting the room in dim, muted light.


    Without a moment''s hesitation, he conjured Barrier. A dome of pale blue light expanded outward from his body, enveloping him in a protective sphere. The barrier shimmered faintly, its edges pulsing with mana, ensuring that no sound or trace of his magic would escape the room.


    Finally, Liam whispered an incantation, in a very ancient tongue long forgotten, as he cast the fourth spell. Shadows twisted around his fingers, cold and menacing. The darkness coalesced into an unearthly, writhing mass.


    The dark tendrils surged outward, slashing through a faint, glowing restraint spell that flickered briefly in the air. The restraint shattered like fragile glass, dissipating into nothingness.


    This was no ordinary spell; it was a dark spell ¡ª a lost art, outlawed and concealed deep within the annals of magical history. The practice of dark magic was not merely frowned upon; it was regarded as a grave taboo, punishable by death in most kingdoms. Such spells manipulated the very essence of mana, disregarding the natural order and, at times, even bending the caster''s own being to their will.


    Liam''s invocation was even more chilling ¡ª because it was actually an Anti-Spell, slicing the restraint magic he had meticulously placed on himself the previous night.


    Dark spells were not merely spells ¡ª they were tools of destruction and defiance, often born from desperation or rebellion. The fact that Liam wielded not one, but two such incantations with mastery was not just improbable; it was terrifying.


    He knew what it meant. Knowledge of dark magic required secrecy, for it was a magic of whispers and shadows, practiced far from prying eyes. To wield it openly was to invite judgment, exile, or worse. But more than the fear of discovery, Liam understood the danger inherent in the magic itself. A misstep could unravel his very being.


    Liam isolated himself to laze around, a habit born from his weakness and lack of mana talent. He didn''t want anyone to see his limitations ¡ª the son of King Elijah, the so-called genius who never used incantations, reduced to relying on the most basic of spells.


    To the outside world, he appeared aloof and indifferent, indulging in idleness while the rest of the castle busied itself with duties and training. None dared disturb him; his chambers, sealed by sturdy gates, were a sanctuary of his own making. For Liam, this isolation wasn''t just a shield from others ¡ª it was a sanctuary where he could escape the weight of expectations and the harsh truth of his shortcomings.


    But within the sealed, enchanted room, Prince Liam of the present day was no failure. Here, he was something far more dangerous, though even he could not fully comprehend what that was. His isolation for the first time was favorable for him.


    Even the first three spells ¡ª Levitation, Telekinesis, and Barrier ¡ª were basic cast but a triple cast without incantation ¡ª It demonstrated control but also power ¡ª a hallmark of those who had ascended to the Expert realm, a stage that no thirteen-year-old in the entire continent of Nvaar had ever comprehended.


    The restraint spell, cast the previous night as a desperate measure to suppress the storm raging within him, was now undone.


    As soon as the restraint unraveled, his mana pulse, which had been near negligible for years, surged violently. It was as if a dam had been shattered, and the flow of mana rushed through his veins unchecked, wild and uncontrollable. Liam gasped, clutching his chest as waves of raw energy coursed through him, making his skin prickle and his muscles convulse.


    His vision blurred, the room seeming to spin as searing pain exploded in his head and chest. The sheer force of the mana left him breathless, his body trembling under the weight of its resurgence. It felt as though his very essence was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time, each surge of power a double-edged blade cutting him from within.


    Clenching his teeth, he curled into himself, sweat pouring down his brow as the room became a blur of distorted colours. The barrier and levitation spells held firm, isolating him from the outside world, but the storm within raged uncontrollably. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a battle to stay conscious as the relentless flood of mana continued to rise.


    Hours passed in this torturous state, the once-bright afternoon sun dipping below the horizon as Liam''s mana pulse climbed to unbearable levels. His body strained to contain it, every fiber of his being crying out in agony. Yet, as the night deepened, the surge began to slow, the storm gradually losing its ferocity.


    The mana pulse, though still erratic, began to ebb, each spike of pain diminishing incrementally. The sharp, tearing agony was replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that seeped into his bones. Liam lay suspended in his levitation spell, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.


    By the time the first rays of sunlight pierced through the cracks of his heavily shut windows, the worst was over. The mana within him, though still unstable, had settled to a level that was no longer overwhelming.


    It was midnight. Liam''s eyes still remained closed, his body suspended in a trance. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm, as if he were asleep. Yet within the depths of his mind, something stirred¡ªa vision, vivid and unrelenting.


    A jagged mountain loomed before him, its towering peaks shrouded in swirling mists. The air around it seemed alive, Light danced across its slopes, forming shapes he couldn''t comprehend but felt compelled to understand. At its summit, hidden within the clouds, a faint glow pulsed, beckoning him like a distant heartbeat.


    The mountain called to him. It wasn''t just a sight but a sensation, deep and primal, reverberating through the very core of his being. His Mana Flame flickered within his chest, reacting to the pulse as though it recognised something familiar, something ancient.


    Liam''s fingers twitched, his head tilting slightly toward the unseen vision. His body remained still, yet his mind was adrift, carried closer to the mountain with every fleeting moment.


    In the darkness of his chamber, the faint glow of mana surrounded him, soft tendrils of light curling around his form as though protecting him. His lips moved, barely forming the words that echoed from the depths of his trance.


    "Sorin''s Crown," he murmured, his voice distant and hollow.

 Memories Within - I

    The afternoon sun bathed the castle in a warm glow, its rays streaming through the tall windows of the stone corridor outside Liam''s chambers. Butler Edwin stood stiffly, his hands clasped behind his back, while Trisha and Mara ¡ª two of the prince''s appointed maids ¡ª waited anxiously beside him.


    The tension was palpable. The bell tower had already ranged six times past morning, and its seventh chime, marking the hour after midday, was imminent. Yet Prince Liam had shown no signs of waking up.


    "Still nothing?" Trisha whispered, shifting her weight nervously.


    Edwin shook his head, his eyes fixed on the heavy wooden door. "Patience. Master Liam has had a demanding few days."


    "Be ready to prepare breakfast when I say he''s awake," Edwin replied firmly, though the slight furrow in his brow betrayed his own unease.


    Inside the room, Liam was lost in a trance.


    In his dream, the royal nursery was echoed by gentle hum of a lullaby. Queen Isabella was sitting by a pond, cradling him, in her arms. His tiny hands reached for her hair, tugging with uncoordinated curiosity, earning a soft laugh from his mother.


    "Careful, my little prince," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You''ll make a mess of your poor mother''s hair before court begins."


    Liam cooed in response, his bright, curious eyes studying her face intently. Isabella set aside the silver spoon from which she had been feeding him, letting her son giggle as he clumsily clapped his hands. The sight of him, so small and full of life, warmed her heart, though a shadow of worry lingered at the edge of her thoughts.


    Her moment of peace was interrupted by the heavy sound of doors creaking open. The imposing figure of King Elijah entered the chamber, he looked a liitle younger. Behind him followed Archmage Caelus in his silver robes.


    Isabella sighed softly, her smile faltering as she instinctively drew Liam closer. "Not again," she said, her voice carrying the weariness of countless examinations.


    "We must be sure," Elijah replied, his tone firm but not unkind. His eyes softened as they fell on his son, a rare glint of vulnerability breaking through his usual demeanor. "You know this isn''t easy for me either."


    Caelus offered a polite bow before stepping closer to the cradle. "Your Majesty," he began, his tone calm.


    He hesitated for a moment, then allowed Liam to grasp his finger. A flicker of warmth crossed his face before he turned to the king and queen.


    "The prince''s Mana Flame is conspicuous, as I''ve noted before. Its presence is undeniable, yet faint ¡ª unusually faint for one of his lineage. It should be brighter, stronger. And yet¡­" Caelus trailed off, his tone growing thoughtful.


    "And yet?" Elijah prompted.


    "And yet I have never encountered a child like him," Caelus admitted.


    "He is remarkably composed. Most children with even a spark of mana display chaotic emotions ¡ª fits of rage, bursts of tears. It is as though their bodies struggle to contain the flow of mana, their spirits too young to temper it."


    He glanced down at Liam, whose gaze was unwavering. "But not Liam. He has not thrown a tantrum, not once, save for the headaches you mentioned."


    Isabella frowned, her worry deepening. "The headaches are not normal for a child so young."


    "No, they are not," Caelus admitted. "But they are the only moments when his Mana Flame feels¡­ alive. He gestured to Liam, whose small hand still clung to his finger. "It is as though the flame within him sleeps, waiting for something."


    Elijah''s expression hardened. "Waiting for what?"


    "I do not know," Caelus replied, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "It is as if the flame holds itself back, as though it is incomplete ¡ª or fragmented. Such a thing is unheard of."


    Isabella gently set Liam back into his cradle, brushing her hand across his soft hair. "Then what do we do? What does this mean for him?"


    "It means we watch," Caelus said gravely. "We watch, we wait, and we guide him as best we can. Whatever the nature of his flame, it will reveal itself in time."


    The room fell into silence, broken only by Liam''s soft cooing. Isabella sat beside the cradle, her hand resting protectively on its edge, while Elijah stared at his son, his fist clenched.


    Caelus straightened and looked to the king and queen, his voice calm but firm. "Liam''s path will not be an easy one, but he is your son. Whatever challenges arise, he will have your strength to guide him."


    Elijah nodded, though his face betrayed little of his thoughts. "He will be ready for whatever comes."


    Isabella leaned down, kissing Liam''s forehead once more, her voice barely a whisper. "My little prince, may your flame always burn bright."


    As the Archmage departed, his robes trailing behind him, and the king returned to the weight of his duties, the queen remained by her son''s side, her hand resting gently on the edge of the cradle. This fragile moment of Liam''s youth, though fleeting, was etched into his memory with startling clarity.


    Years later, he would find himself recalling the warmth of his mother''s touch, the soft hum of her lullaby, and even the faint shimmer of the Archmage''s robes as he left the chamber. It was as if the scene had been burned into his mind, preserved in vivid detail.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    It puzzled him endlessly. Was it normal for someone to remember their earliest days with such precision? Most people could not recall their infancy, their minds clouded by the fog of youth. Yet for Liam, the memory remained unbroken, as sharp as though it had happened yesterday.


    As the vivid recollection faded from his mind, Liam opened his eyes. It was afternoon once again, sunlight pouring into the room, casting soft golden hues across the cold stone walls. He lay still for a moment, his body heavy with exhaustion, before finally sitting up and stretching his aching limbs.


    The usual routine awaited him. Rising, he moved to the wash basin to freshen up. With a flick of his fingers, the curtains parted, and Liam opened the window, letting in a crisp breeze that carried the scent of damp earth and pine. He turned toward the planked door leading out of his chamber, and with a low creak, pushed it open.


    Mara and Trisha awaited him. They bowed slightly at the sight of him. "Good afternoon, Master Liam," Mara greeted politely, her tone calm but warm.


    "Afternoon," Liam replied, stepping aside to let them enter.


    Trisha was the first to speak, her voice steady. "We brought your breakfast, Master Liam. Sir Edwin thought it best after you skipped your meal yesterday."


    Mara added, "The guest attendants mentioned you had to snack off their trays. That isn''t acceptable, even if you were busy."


    Liam raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I didn''t have much choice yesterday. It was either that or collapse entirely."


    Trisha set the tray down carefully. "Still, it''s our job to ensure that doesn''t happen. If you need anything, you should call for us, Master Liam."


    Mara poured him a cup of tea, "You push yourself too hard," she said softly, though her tone carried a hint of reproach. "No one will fault you for taking care of yourself."


    Liam sat down and picked up a slice of bread, feeling the weight of their concern. "Noted," he replied with a faint smile.


    Trisha stood near the doorway, her arms crossed behind her. "Is there anything else you need while we''re here?"


    Liam shook his head. "No, this is plenty. Thank you, both of you."


    Mara and Trisha exchanged a brief glance before bowing again. "As you wish, Master Liam," they said in unison before retreating toward the door.


    As the two servants left him to his thoughts, Liam glanced out the open window. The memory of the vision still lingered, the image of Soryn''s Crown and the memories of his childhood. Something was stirring, something he couldn''t yet understand, but the flame within his chest told him it wouldn''t be long before he found out.


    It was the evening before the rite. The Rite of Recognition was a joyous occasion, but Liam felt no peace. Instead, panic gripped him, an inexplicable unease clawing at his thoughts.


    He paced the room, his breathing uneven. It wasn''t just nervousness about the rite¡ªit was something deeper, something alien yet familiar. A strange intuition gnawed at him, whispering from a corner of his mind, not born from his own thoughts but from a memory. The memory didn''t feel like his, yet it whispered clearly: If you interact with mana, there will be trouble.


    Liam clenched his fists, trying to shake the feeling, but the whispers persisted. He had no idea how to resolve the ominous warning or even if he should believe it. His eyes darted to the ornate drawer beside his bed. Pulling it open, he retrieved the protective royal necklace within.


    The necklace, an heirloom of the royal family, was crafted with ornate patterns of silver and gold, embedded with a small, bluish glowing crystal at its center. It was said to form an impenetrable shield around its wearer, protecting them from harm.


    Liam held the necklace in trembling hands, his heart pounding. But the unease didn''t fade ¡ª it only grew stronger.


    The whispers became more insistent, filling his mind with dread. Fear overwhelmed him until, in a sudden burst of frustration, he struck the necklace against the edge of his desk. A faint spark of mana flickered, reacting to his touch.


    The protective mechanism of the necklace activated¡ªbut instead of forming a shield, Liam felt something else entirely.


    He was absorbing its mana.


    The realization hit him a moment too late. His body shuddered as the mana surged through him, and a blinding headache struck like a hammer. He stumbled back, gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself.


    Then it came ¡ª a vision.


    In his mind, he saw a strand of dark magic, coiling like a serpent. The vision felt impossibly real, as though it were his own memory. The magic was a restrictive dark spell, designed to absorb any mana it came into contact with and prevent its user from interacting with mana directly.


    As the vision faded, Liam''s pounding headache began to subside, leaving a dull ache in its place. A strange clarity followed, and he could feel the mana he had absorbed from the necklace earlier coursing through him, albeit in a faint trickle. Almost instinctively, he spoke an ancient tongue, like he spoke this language quite frequently. Dark tendrils of energy began to form, coalescing into the same restrictive spell he had seen in his vision.


    The room darkened momentarily, shadows pooling at his feet before dissipating into the air. Liam stumbled back, his breathing ragged, but the spell had been cast. He stared at his trembling hands, both awed and terrified by what he had just done.


    He invocated the restrictive dark spell ¡ª Mana Stasis.


    His mind flashed back to the rite. The day he had been evaluated was now as clear as crystal, and with it came the realization of why they had judged him so lightly. The restrictive dark spell had absorbed all the energy they channeled into him. But in his carelessness, he had underestimated the power being poured into his body. The combined mana of two Archmages and his father ¡ª a Champion swordsman ¡ª was too much for the spell to contain.


    The dark spell, though potent, was overloaded. Its structure faltered, and the leaking mana began to interact with him again. It coursed through his body, unrestrained and chaotic, causing the excruciating headaches that had plagued him ever since. The archmages had assumed his mana flame was faint and weak, but the truth was far more complex. Liam hadn''t failed to connect with mana¡ªit had been consumed entirely, pulled into the void created by the dark spell within him.


    Now, as he pieced together these memories and revelations, another thought struck him. The faint, nagging intuition he had always felt ¡ª the sense of something missing¡ªsuddenly made sense. From the very day he was born, every trace of mana that touched him had been consumed by something within him. Leaving him only with a tiny mana flame to keep the mana heart alive. It had been happening long before the rite, long before he even understood the concept of mana.


    What''s more, the knowledge from his vision wasn''t ordinary. These were truths that transcended the limits of his kingdom ¡ª arcane formulas, histories of places he''d never seen, and theories of magic that no one had spoken of in the royal courts. It was as though the absorbed mana carried fragments of knowledge from its origins.


    This realization brought a sense of unease, but also a flicker of purpose. His entire life, he had been unknowingly feeding on the world''s mana, but why? What was this force within him that devoured energy and returned knowledge in its place?


    Liam took a deep breath, steadying himself as his thoughts raced. For the first time, he felt like he was standing at the edge of a vast ocean of possibilities, with no shore in sight. One thing was certain: whatever was happening to him, it was far beyond anything his kingdom or his family could prepare him for.


    The faint echo of the vision he''d seen¡ªof the restrictive spell, of its coiling dark tendrils¡ªlingered in his mind. His headaches had subsided for now, but Liam knew they would return. And with them, more revelations. He wasn''t just unraveling the mysteries of his own abilities ¡ª he was being pulled into something far greater, something that might reshape his very existence.

 Memories Within - II

    As the evening drew near, Liam decided to step out of his chambers, his footsteps echoing through the grand hallways of the royal palace. The towering walls, carved from polished stone, were adorned with tapestries depicting the kingdom''s history. Lamps floated gently in the air, casting a golden glow that illuminated every corner. The guards, clad in armor engraved with the royal insignia, stood at their posts like statues, their eyes sharp and alert.


    The palace was a masterpiece of both artistry and practicality, blending elegance with the unmistakable presence of power. Outside, the royal garden stretched before him, a vibrant array of flora cultivated with care over generations. Exotic flowers, their petals glowing faintly with bioluminescent mana, dotted the paths. Trees bearing fruits enchanted to ripen in every season swayed gently in the breeze.


    Trailing behind Liam were Trisha, Mara, and Edwin. Liam''s expression, though calm, betrayed a hint of annoyance. He paused at the entrance to the garden, turning to the small entourage.


    "Enough," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I don''t need all three of you shadowing me."


    Edwin nodded knowingly and gestured for the maids to leave. Trisha and Mara bowed respectfully before retreating back into the palace. Liam continued down the garden path, the butler maintaining a discreet distance by his side.


    The garden was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves and the hum of fountains. As they walked, Liam broke the silence.


    "Edwin," he began, his voice thoughtful, "tell me something about mana."


    Edwin raised an eyebrow. It wasn''t like Liam to show an interest in such topics, but he replied dutifully. "Of course, Master Liam. What would you like to know?"


    "Is there¡­ any way to access mana directly? Not by drawing it from the world or cultivating it over time, but as if from a source? Something immediate, a wellspring of energy, perhaps."


    The butler paused, clearly taken aback. "A source of mana, Master Liam?" he echoed, the words rolling off his tongue with uncertainty. "That''s¡­ unusual."


    "Unusual," Liam repeated, watching the ripples of a nearby pond as he walked. "Not impossible, then?"


    Edwin hesitated. "Mana doesn''t exist as a tangible reservoir. It''s never been found in non-living objects, at least not in its pure form. The impure forms¡ªartifacts, amulets, and enchanted equipment¡ªtypically rely on Arcanite. However, Arcanite is inefficient; nearly one-third of the energy stored within it is unstable and radiates away in unknown forms. This makes it a temporary conduit rather than a true source of mana."


    He continued, "Only those born with a Mana Flame can harness mana''s full potential. But even for them, it is not easy. Overcoming challenges and cultivating their Mana Heart''s capacity is essential. Only then can they store and wield greater amounts of pure mana. As for pure mana drawn from an external source? To my knowledge, such a thing has never been documented."


    Liam nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "I see."


    The pair continued in silence for a while.


    After their stroll, Liam returned to his chambers. The maids, Trisha and Mara, served him dinner under Edwin''s watchful supervision. The meal was simple yet hearty, as was typical of the castle''s evening fare. Liam ate in contemplative silence, his mind still swirling with thoughts from their earlier conversation.


    When he finished, he leaned back in his chair and glanced at the three. "Goodnight," he said curtly, his tone softer than usual.


    The butler nodded and gestured for the maids to leave. "Goodnight, Master Liam," Edwin said before closing the door behind him.


    Once alone, Liam planked the door, his excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. For the first time in years, he felt the faint flicker of emotion¡ªa curiosity so intense it bordered on exhilaration. He locked the door, his hands steady despite his eagerness, and secured the latches on the windows before drawing the curtains with a flick of Telekinesis. The room plunged into silence, broken only by the faint hum of the mana lamp on his desk.


    Liam approached the lamp, his heart pounding. Carefully, he disassembled the device, exposing the Arcanite crystal embedded within its core. The dull, red glow of the crystal was mesmerizing, and he held it in his palm with a mixture of hope and trepidation.


    He closed his eyes and focused, trying to replicate the sensation he had felt when absorbing mana from the royal necklace. He willed the energy within the Arcanite to flow into him, hoping it would trigger the visions that had begun to haunt him.


    But nothing happened.


    The crystal remained inert in his hand, its faint glow unchanging. In his mounting frustration, he tried again, pouring every ounce of focus he could muster into the attempt, but the result was the same. The Arcanite was unresponsive, its energy just out of reach.


    Finally, with a heavy sigh, Liam set the crystal down. He stared at it for a long moment, the disappointment settling over him like a weight. His earlier excitement dimmed, replaced by a quiet resignation. Perhaps he had been foolish to think it would work so easily.


    Exhausted and drained, he climbed into bed, his mind still racing with unanswered questions. The soft warmth of his blankets offered little comfort as his thoughts circled back to the visions and the strange nature of his Mana Flame.


    Despite his frustration, Liam found himself drifting to sleep earlier than usual. For the first time in years, he felt as though he was on the verge of something monumental¡ªthough what it was, he couldn''t yet fathom.


    The next morning, Liam woke abruptly, clutching his head as a searing headache ripped through him. It felt as though his skull was splitting apart, but along with the pain came something else¡ªanother vision.


    In his mind''s, he saw through the perspective of someone unfamiliar. A name echoed clearly: Graham. The voice calling to him was calm yet commanding. The person whose eyes Liam now borrowed was young, perhaps in his early twenties. They stood in a dimly lit chamber filled with strange tools and glowing objects.


    Arcanite littered the tables before them, shimmering faintly under the glow of enchanted lamps. The young man spoke, inquiring of Graham. "What are you planning to do with all of this?"


    Graham, a wiry man with sharp eyes and steady hands, replied without looking up from his work. "Nothing useful with the red ones," he said, gesturing dismissively to a pile of dull, crimson stones. "They''ve lost most of their potency. Good for basic luminescence at best. A waste for anything ambitious."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He picked up a brilliant blue stone from another pile, its glow far stronger and more stable. "But these¡ªthese are a different story entirely. The blue ones still retain fragments of their original purity. They''re rare, yes, but perfect for advanced research. Their mana density is remarkable, even if they''re remnants of a bygone age."


    The person observing Graham hesitated. "You mean¡­ these are fossilized mana hearts?"


    Graham nodded solemnly. "Precisely. Once part of the ancient living¡ªbeasts, beings of immense power¡ªnow reduced to remnants of their former glory. After death, they lose their stability, but even in this state, they''re priceless. Their secrets might just hold the key to¡­ everything."


    The vision blurred and faded as quickly as it came, leaving Liam breathless.


    He sat up slowly, his mind spinning. Three unsettling thoughts clawed at him, each more puzzling than the last.


    First, how were his visions so specific, almost subjective? He''d only just learned about Arcanite yesterday, yet this vision went deeper, revealing details he''d never known or read about.


    Second, why had this vision come at all? He''d failed last night in his attempts to incite a reaction with the Arcanite he''d taken from the mana lamp. He''d gone to bed frustrated, assuming nothing had worked. Was this vision a delayed reaction, or had it been triggered by something else entirely?


    And finally, why were his visions so inconsistent? Sometimes they showed fragments of his own childhood, filled with clarity and warmth. Other times, they imparted knowledge¡ª forgotten truths and ancient lore, like a whisper of a world lost to time. And now, he''d experienced something new: a memory not his own, witnessing the interaction of strangers in an unknown place.


    The questions lingered as he sat there, clutching his throbbing head, a sense of unease settling over him. Whatever was happening to him, it was becoming harder to dismiss. The answers, he felt, lay just out of reach, hidden somewhere in the haze of these visions.


    Liam stirred from his bed, his mind still grappling with the remnants of his vision. The headache had subsided, leaving only a dull throb behind. He stretched, rubbing his temples, and decided to get up. For the first time in a while, he felt oddly compelled to face the day ahead.


    When he opened the door, Edwin, his ever-dutiful butler, was standing there, holding a tray of morning tea. The man''s usually composed expression gave way to a look of genuine surprise.


    "Master Liam, you''re awake this early?" Edwin exclaimed, quickly catching himself before his tone grew too accusatory. "It''s a miracle!"


    Liam smirked as he leaned against the doorframe. "Don''t act so shocked, Edwin. I can be responsible once in a while."


    Edwin raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Master Liam. And speaking of responsibility¡­" He glanced at the heavy plank in Liam''s arm. "Please, for the love of all that is civilized, get rid of that monstrosity. I''ve already put in a request with the administration for a proper barrier-locking mechanism for your chamber. One based on Mana Signature. Something befitting your station."


    Liam chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. I suppose it''s time I stopped living like a hermit. But I have to admit, Edwin, that plank''s been doing a fine job of keeping people out."


    "Keeping people out? Or keeping you in, Master Liam?" Edwin retorted, a rare twinkle of humor in his eye.


    Liam laughed, genuinely amused. "Touch¨¦, Edwin. Touch¨¦. I''ll let the plank go when your fancy mechanism arrives."


    "Good," Edwin said with a small bow, though his tone carried a note of triumph. "Now, shall I prepare your breakfast, or are you planning to shock the staff further by joining the family in the dining hall?"


    Liam waved him off with a grin. "I''ll take breakfast here. Let''s not give anyone a heart attack this early."


    As Edwin disappeared to arrange the meal, Liam leaned against the open window, the fresh morning air brushing his face.


    A short while later, Edwin returned, pushing a silver tray laden with Liam''s breakfast. The meal was simple yet elegant, consisting of buttered rolls, fresh fruit, and a warm bowl of soup. As Edwin placed the tray on the table by the window, Liam gestured for him to stay.


    "Join me for a bit," Liam said casually, picking up a spoon. "It''s been a while since we''ve had a proper conversation."


    Edwin raised an eyebrow but remained standing nearby, his hands clasped behind his back. "As you wish, Master Liam. Is there something on your mind?"


    Liam stirred the soup lazily, his gaze drifting out of the window. "The weather feels¡­ different today. More energetic. Don''t you think?"


    The question was vague, but Liam''s tone carried a faint note of curiosity, one that Edwin, with his years of experience, didn''t miss. He tilted his head thoughtfully before replying, "The weather? It seems the same as usual to me. But perhaps it feels livelier because the air is carrying more mana than normal."


    The spoon in Liam''s hand slipped slightly, clinking against the edge of the bowl. He quickly recovered, forcing a casual laugh to mask his reaction. "More mana in the air? That''s an interesting observation. What makes you say that?"


    Edwin considered the question, his expression calm. "Well, it''s not unusual, Master Liam. Today, His Majesty trained the royal guards in the palace courtyard. When Ascendants, especially those in the inner higher realms, train together, their mana usage creates a sort of deficit in the surrounding area. The natural flow of mana compensates for it, making the concentration higher for a time. Perhaps that''s what you''re sensing."


    Liam nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I see. I suppose it makes sense. So, this happens whenever there''s significant training in the palace?"


    "Precisely," Edwin replied. "Though it''s more noticeable when His Majesty himself trains. His presence alone has a profound effect on the surrounding mana."


    Liam resumed eating, his thoughts racing. So the increased mana concentration wasn''t random¡ªit was caused by the Ascendants'' training. But it was too much of a coincidence to ignore that his strange dream coincided with this spike.


    "Interesting," Liam murmured, his tone distant.


    Edwin, ever perceptive, watched him for a moment before clearing his throat. "Is there something else on your mind, Master Liam?"


    "No," Liam replied, shaking his head as if to dispel his thoughts. "Nothing in particular. Just a passing curiosity."


    The butler bowed slightly. "Very well. If you require anything else, I''ll be just outside."


    Liam nodded and returned to his meal.


    He leaned back in his chair, his breakfast finished but his thoughts far from settled. His resolve was clear now¡ªhe needed mana, and he needed it in abundance. His strange visions, the ever-present flame within his chest, and the revelations about mana sources only strengthened his determination. The training ground seemed like the perfect opportunity, but he knew he had to prepare himself beforehand. He needed to guide his visions toward something meaningful.


    Deciding on his next step, Liam called for Edwin, who appeared promptly, his demeanor calm and composed as always.


    "Edwin," Liam began, leaning forward slightly, "tell me about my siblings. What realms are they in now? Are they training as well?"


    The butler''s expression softened at the mention of the royal siblings. "Your elder brother, Prince Adrian, has reached the Specialist realm in swordsmanship. Quite an accomplishment for his age. As for Lady Cassandra, I heard she''s broken through the higher realm of Expert and is quickly rising towards the Specialist realm in healing magic. Both of them are diligent in their training and spend most of their days improving their skills."


    Liam smiled faintly, nodding along. "I see. It seems they''re both progressing well. It must be inspiring to watch them excel."


    "It is indeed," Edwin replied. "Their dedication serves as an example for the kingdom."


    Liam hesitated briefly, then added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "Perhaps I should start putting in some effort too. I''ve been slacking for far too long."


    Edwin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That would certainly be a change of pace, Master Liam. Where would you like to begin?"


    Feigning casual curiosity, Liam said, "Well, where should I start if I want to be like them? The training ground?"


    Edwin''s brow furrowed slightly, his tone cautious. "The training ground is for those who''ve at least broken into the Apprentice realm. Without reaching that stage, it would be¡­ unproductive."


    Liam leaned back, feigning defeat. "That''s what I thought. So, where does that leave me? If I can''t even set foot in the training ground, what''s the next best step?"


    The butler studied him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "The royal library, Master Liam. Knowledge is the foundation of any great journey. Perhaps you might find something there to spark your interest."


    Liam''s eyes lit up subtly, and he nodded. "The library¡­ that''s a good idea. Maybe I should do that."

 Memories Within - III

    Edwin''s curiosity deepened. Liam had never shown interest in the library before, especially after the court and his peers dismissed him as incapable of advancing beyond the Beginner realm. Still, he maintained his composure. "Shall I escort you there?"


    "Please do," Liam replied, rising from his chair.


    As they walked through the winding halls of the palace, Edwin kept the conversation light. He pointed out various artifacts and paintings lining the corridors, sharing snippets of history about their creators.


    "Did you know this tapestry was commissioned by your grandmother?" Edwin said, gesturing to a baroquely woven piece depicting a grand battle. "She believed art was as important to the legacy of a ruler as their victories."


    Liam nodded, only half-listening. His mind was preoccupied with the prospect of reaching the library and uncovering something¡ªanything¡ªthat could aid him in his quest for mana.


    They passed several guards standing at attention, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of magic lamps embedded in the walls. The lamps flickered faintly, a reminder of the Arcanite within them, a source Liam now viewed with renewed interest.


    Finally, they arrived at the library, its tall oak doors carved with ancient runes and symbols of knowledge. Edwin pushed the doors open, revealing rows upon rows of shelves, each brimming with books and scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and the faint magic emanating from the room''s protective enchantments.


    "This is where the journey begins," Edwin said, his tone encouraging. "If you truly wish to grow, Master Liam, the answers you seek may very well lie here."


    Liam stepped inside, his heart racing with anticipation. "Thank you, Edwin. I''ll take it from here."


    The butler bowed slightly, a rare look of approval crossing his face. "Very well, Master Liam. I''ll leave you to your studies. Should you require anything, you need only call."


    Liam watched Edwin depart before turning back to the vast collection of knowledge before him¡ªthe Arcanum of Winston. Named after the first mage king of Ironhelm, King Arthur Winston, this library stood as a testament to the kingdom''s commitment to learning and magical advancement. King Arthur, the sixth king of Ironhelm and a descendant of the illustrious third royal house of Winston, had laid the foundation for theoretical studies in magic. His belief in the power of understanding had shaped Ironhelm''s future, making it a kingdom renowned for its magical prowess.


    As Liam stepped into the grand hall, he was greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of the library. Towering bookshelves carved from ancient cedar stretched endlessly toward the high, arched ceilings, where crystal chandeliers hung, emitting a soft, warm glow. Magic lamps, enchanted to emit no heat, floated between the shelves, illuminating the titles of thousands of tomes. A quiet hum of mana permeated the air, giving the place an almost sacred atmosphere.


    At the center of the library stood a marble statue of King Arthur, his robes flowing as though caught in an unseen wind. One hand rested on the hilt of a ceremonial blade, while the other held an open book, its pages carved with alluring magical runes. Beneath the statue, an inscription read:


    "Seek not only power but the wisdom that sustains it. For without understanding, even the greatest magic is but a fleeting shadow."


    Liam''s gaze lingered on the statue for a moment before he continued to the reception desk at the far end of the hall. The desk, made of polished mahogany, bore a nameplate that read "Harold Grayson - Archivist and Keeper of Records." Behind it sat an elderly man with sharp, intelligent eyes and a neatly trimmed beard, his spectacles perched precariously on his nose. He was scribbling notes in an oversized ledger with an enchanted quill.


    As Liam approached, Harold looked up and adjusted his glasses. His expression softened when he saw who it was. "Ah, Prince Liam," he greeted with a courteous bow of his head. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?"


    Liam smiled faintly, feeling slightly out of place. "Good morning, Master Harold. I was hoping to¡­ start somewhere. But I''m not sure where. Any suggestions?"


    Harold raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Liam''s sudden interest in the library. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped the quill against his chin thoughtfully. "Good morning, Prince Liam. That depends entirely on what you''re looking for. The library is vast, as you know, and divided into several sections. For magical theory and foundational knowledge, the Hall of Fundamentals on the lower level is an excellent starting point. If you''re drawn to history and the legacies of our kingdom, the Chronicle Wing upstairs is unparalleled. Of course, there are also the restricted sections¡ªreserved for more advanced and confidential studies."


    Liam nodded, trying not to appear too eager. "Anything on mana, perhaps? Its origins or¡­ unconventional uses?"


    Harold''s eyes narrowed slightly, though his tone remained neutral. "Ah, you''ll find material on mana in the Essence Vault, located on the second floor. It''s not restricted, but the texts there can be quite advanced. You might want to build a foundation first." He gestured toward the towering shelves behind him. "Or, if I may suggest, skim through the basics in the Hall of Fundamentals and let your curiosity guide you from there."


    "That sounds reasonable," Liam replied, masking his growing impatience. "Thank you, Master Harold."


    Harold inclined his head again. "Of course. If you require assistance locating specific tomes, the index table near the entrance will guide you. And, as always, the staff is here to help." He paused, studying Liam for a moment. "It''s refreshing to see you here, Prince Liam. The Arcanum has missed your presence."


    Liam managed a small smile before turning toward the Hall of Fundamentals. As he walked past the endless rows of books, their spines shimmering faintly under the flickering light of enchanted lanterns, he noticed titles that stirred his curiosity:


    "Sensing the Ethereal: A Novice''s Guide"


    "The Art of Deception Magic"


    "Runes of Power: Foundations for Inscriptionist"


    "The Mortal Dream: A Study of the Realm Between Realms"


    He paused briefly at The Mortal Dream, its cover depicting a sleeping figure surrounded by shifting clouds and faint silhouettes. The subtitle caught his attention: "A Study of the Realm Between Realms." He had heard many appraises about this book, so he decided to bring it along.


    As he walked past the endless rows of books and whispered enchantments echoing through the air, he felt the weight of King Arthur''s words from the statue. He found himself eager to understand¡ªnot just for the answers he so desperately sought, but also for knowledge.


    Liam went upstairs to the second floor of the library, arriving at a section labeled "Essence Vault." The heavy wooden sign above the entrance glimmered faintly, enchanted with preservation magic. Rows of meticulously organized shelves stretched out before him, each filled with volumes on mana theory, its applications, and its origin hypothesis.


    He moved through the aisles, scanning the spines of countless books. Their titles varied from practical guides like "Nourishing the Flame: A Beginner''s Guide to Mana Heart Cultivation" to cryptic works such as "The Aether''s Pulse: Unseen Currents of Mana Flow." He examined several options, his fingers tracing the embossed titles, and finally selected two other books that seemed promising.


    With the books in hand, Liam found a seat in the reading area¡ªa quiet alcove with plush chairs and reading tables lit by floating magic lamps. The soft hum of mana lamps accompanied the faint whispers of a few other library patrons. As Liam settled into his seat, he noticed the hushed conversations had turned quieter still. Though the others did not approach him, their furtive glances and barely audible murmurs made it clear they recognized him. Perhaps they were judging him, wondering why the thirteenth prince¡ªso often dismissed as lazy and untalented¡ªhad suddenly decided to grace the library with his presence.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Liam ignored them. He wasn''t here for their approval.


    Liam opened the first book, Currents of Creation, and began to read. The thick parchment pages were densely packed with text and diagrams, each line meticulously crafted to detail the mechanics of mana. His eyes scanned the carefully inked illustrations of hearts and flames, his fingers tracing the lines as if committing them to memory.


    "The Mana Flame is unique to each individual," the book began.


    "Your lineage shapes your potential to bear the Mana Flame. At birth, as you take your first breath, mana rushes into your body with the air, igniting a spark of life within the heart. This spark gives rise to the Mana Flame ¡ª a phenomenon as rare as it is mysterious, with only one in every hundred individuals born bearing it."


    The text explored the enigmatic origins of the Mana Flame, linking it to lineage.


    "The strength of one''s ancestors often determines the initial brilliance of the flame. Strong bloodlines yield strong flames, yet nature enforces balance. No Ascendant who has reached the realm of Champion or beyond has ever sired offspring. Scholars suggest this is nature''s way of maintaining equilibrium between the extraordinary and the mortal world."


    Liam paused, letting the words sink in. The connection between strength, lineage, and balance felt profound.


    The book continued:


    "Its appears as a flame over the heart hence its name. It evolves with the wielder''s growth. At the earliest stages, the flame glows faintly red, flickering and unstable¡ªlike a spark struggling to catch. With each breakthrough in the minor realms, the flame brightens, and in major advancements, its color shifts, reflecting the wielder''s growing mastery and control."


    The next section delved into the Mana Heart:


    "At the center of this phenomenon is the Mana Heart, a living engine that generates rhythmic Mana Pulses. These pulses flow through the body with every second heartbeat. Beginners experience faint and erratic pulses, limiting their ability to perform sustained magic. However, as the wielder ascends, their Mana Heart grows stronger, producing frequent, potent pulses capable of powering advanced spells and abilities."


    Liam closed his eyes, trying to focus on his own Mana Heart. It wasn''t an immediate process; distractions clawed at the edges of his thoughts. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, working to relax his body. Time seemed to stretch as he gradually tuned into himself.


    Eventually, he felt it ¡ª a faint warmth deep within his chest. He pressed a hand lightly against his sternum, concentrating on the flickering sensation. His Mana Flame was weak, barely more than a struggling ember. In his mind''s eye, he pictured his heart¡ªa deep crimson orb with dim, unsteady veins glowing faintly.


    The sight filled him with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty. How much further did he need to go? How many more trials lay ahead before his flame could burn brighter?


    The book seemed to anticipate his thoughts:


    "This growth is not just physical; it is a spiritual transformation. The evolving Mana Flame is a testament to the wielder''s resilience, discipline, and ability to overcome both internal fears and external trials."


    Liam let the words linger in his thoughts as he carefully turned the final pages. Currents of Creation was dense with information, but he took his time, ensuring every detail about the Mana Flame, Mana Heart, and Mana Pulses was understood. By the time he closed the book, the light in the room had shifted, signaling the passing hours.


    Only then did he reach for the second book, The Essence of Living Mana: The Balance of Life and Power. Its weight was different¡ªheavier, as though the knowledge it contained carried greater gravity. The introduction opened with a solemn warning:


    "Mana is as much a source of life as it is of power, and the two are inextricably tied."


    The text built upon the concepts from the first book, describing the Mana Flame as the manifestation of mana around the heart.


    "This flame ignites and sustains the Mana Heart. Depending on the wielder''s realm, the heart takes on a distinct hue, its veins glowing brighter than its base color. The Mana Flame acts as the initial ignition, fueling the Mana Heart to generate Mana Pulses¡ªinfused blood pulses that carry mana throughout the body, much like an engine fueled by magical energy."


    The book warned of the risks of overuse:


    "Overexertion extinguishes the Mana Flame, leaving the Mana Heart unable to produce Mana Pulses. When this occurs, the heart functions only as an ordinary organ, stripping the individual of their magical vitality and rendering them crippled in a world reliant on mana."


    The comparison to an engine resonated with Liam. He imagined the delicate system within his chest, each pulse a vital part of his existence. The final caution etched itself into his thoughts:


    "Balance and restraint are essential. Overuse may grant temporary power, but at the cost of the very life it sustains."


    Liam closed the book and leaned back, staring into the distance as the weight of the knowledge settled over him. The two books had revealed much about the nature of mana¡ªits mechanics, its ties to life, and the delicate balance required to wield it. Yet, alongside this new understanding, frustration simmered within him.


    The answers he sought still felt out of reach. Despite hours of reading, nothing in either book had truly pointed him toward the source of pure mana. His initial hope of uncovering something to guide his visions now seemed more elusive than ever.


    He glanced at the remaining book on the table, The Mortal Dream, its worn cover etched with mysterious imagery. There was still one more chance for answers, but doubt gnawed at him, but suddenly, a familiar sensation began to creep into his temples¡ªa dull ache that signaled the onset of another vision.


    His heartbeat quickened as he felt the mana in the air begin to shift. He stood abruptly and made his way to the windows, opening them wide.


    Cool air flooded the room, carrying with it a faintly charged quality. Liam''s suspicions were confirmed: the mana concentration was rising. Somewhere beyond the library walls, the king was beginning his training with the royal guards. The elevated mana in the atmosphere seemed to intensify the pain in Liam''s head.


    Closing the books and leaving them on the table, Liam hurried out of the library. The corridors were eerily quiet as he made his way back to his room, each step growing heavier as the headache built.


    Just as he reached his door, Edwin appeared from around the corner, his expression curious. "Master Liam? You''re up early," he remarked, noticing Liam''s disheveled state. "Did something happen?"


    Liam shook his head quickly. "I''m just tired, Edwin. Stayed up too long in the library. I need rest." His tone was clipped, discouraging further inquiry.


    Edwin nodded. "Very well, Master Liam. I''ll ensure you''re not disturbed."


    Liam offered a faint nod of gratitude before slipping into his room and locking the door. This time, instead of the crude plank he often used, he summoned a faint burst of mana to secure the lock with a magical mechanism. Edwin had arranged the change of mechanism during his absence overnight.


    The room darkened as he drew the curtains closed with Telekinesis. Followed by Levitation he then, summoned more mana, and raised Barrier around him, ensuring absolute privacy. During the mana surge he again had the comprehension level of an Expert Mage.


    The pain in his head spiked sharply, and Liam knew it was time. Liam hoped this vision would grant him the clarity he desperately sought. Yet as the overwhelming force took hold and his surroundings blurred, he felt an ominous weight settle over him.


    In his vision, he found himself submerged in freezing water, the icy grip of the abyss dragging him deeper. His lungs burned, begging for air, but the surface felt impossibly far. The darkness surrounding him was suffocating, pressing in from all sides like a living entity. His limbs moved sluggishly, heavy with exhaustion, and his mana felt inert, utterly unresponsive.


    Pain coursed through his body as though every cell was being wrung dry. A sharp, crushing force seemed to squeeze the life out of him. He flailed briefly, instinctively trying to swim upward, but his movements lacked conviction. Deep down, he realized he wasn''t fighting to save himself¡ªhe had no desire to be saved.


    Around him, tendrils of a dark, malevolent magic coiled like serpents, binding his limbs and pulling him further into the abyss. The faint glow of a dark halo encircled him, pulsing faintly as if alive. Its oppressive presence seemed to feed on his despair, making every breathless second feel like an eternity.


    Liam''s vision dimmed as his strength ebbed away, his life force slipping through his fingers. He could feel his heartbeat slowing, his body succumbing to the inevitable. There was no escape, no salvation¡ªonly an endless, suffocating void.


    Then, abruptly, the vision ended. It was evening. Liam woke up with a strangled gasp, his chest heaving as if he had been pulled from actual drowning. The barrier magic he had cast around his room shattered in an instant, dissipating like smoke, as he fell to the ground. His body trembled uncontrollably, and cold sweat dripped down his face. He clutched his chest, desperately sucking in air as his heart thundered in his ears.


    A sharp knock echoed from the door, breaking the silence. Edwin''s familiar voice came through, calm but laced with concern. "Master Liam, are you alright?"


    It was as though Edwin could see right through the door. Liam struggled to steady himself, his limbs still shaky, and stumbled toward the door. He opened it just a crack, enough to meet Edwin''s searching gaze. "I''m fine," Liam rasped, his voice hoarse. "Just¡­ just a bad dream."


    Edwin studied him carefully for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "If you need anything, I''ll be nearby."


    "Thank you, Edwin." Liam forced a weak smile before closing the door again.


    He leaned against the frame for a moment, steadying his breath before staggering back to his bed. His body trembled, the weight of the vision clinging to him like a shadow. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel the cold water, the crushing darkness, the suffocating magic.


    Collapsing onto the bed, Liam pressed his hands to his temples, trying to suppress the rising tide of panic. The air in the room felt thick, his thoughts tangled in a web of questions he couldn''t answer.


    Why this visions? What was its purpose? Is this my future?


    As he stared blankly at the dim ceiling, a single, unshakable realization settled over him like a heavy cloak:


    For the insatiable craving that gnawed at his core¡ªhe needed mana, and he needed it in abundance. If he truly wished to uncover more, to delve deeper into the mysteries that eluded him, this need could not be ignored.

 The Crucible of Ascendants - I

    The first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson. King Elijah stood at the center of the sand-covered arena, his silhouette imposing against the growing light. The cool morning air carried the faint scent of dew mixed with earth, a fleeting calm before the spectacle ahead.


    The colosseum around him was no ordinary structure¡ªit was The Crucible of Ascendants, an architectural marvel with a legacy as grand as the kingdom itself. Built from gleaming travertine limestone and volcanic tuff, its stones bore the weight of centuries of history. Rising like the ribs of a giant beast, its towering walls enclosed an oval arena capable of holding tens of thousands, from commoners to nobility. Above, grand banners bearing the sigil of Ironhelm fluttered in the gentle breeze.


    The Crucible had humble beginnings. Its foundation was laid by the First King, Jacob the Brave, in the twilight years of his reign. Originally, it was a simple stadium where warriors clashed for honor and sport, and the people gathered to celebrate their unity through shared spectacle. In those days, the arena was little more than a circle of stone and sand, its purpose rooted in the raw and unpolished tradition of combat.


    Generations of rulers shaped and expanded upon the First King''s vision. Monarchs added towering tiers of seats, reinforced the walls to withstand greater crowds, and introduced mechanisms to elevate the excitement of the games. The colosseum, now capable of seating over 120,000 spectators, became an architectural marvel of the age. Its tiered seating was a testament to Ironhelm''s craftsmanship, with lower levels carved directly into the limestone foundation for stability, while higher tiers soared skyward, supported by intricate arches and vaulted tunnels. Special luxury boxes for nobility, adorned with polished brass and gold trim, offered an unmatched view of the arena floor.


    The most profound transformation, however, came under the reign of Sixth King, Arthur the Wise, a monarch renowned for his relentless pursuit of knowledge. In his lifetime, he mastered rune inscription and the arcane sciences. Known as the Runesmith King, he revolutionized The Crucible by laying the foundation for its mana-powered mechanisms. King Arthur saw potential beyond mere physical contests and envisioned an arena that could bring to life the myths and legends of the realm.


    Together with scholars and runesmiths, King Arthur carved intricate mana runes into the colosseum''s foundation, blending the ancient magic of Ironhelm with the cutting-edge mechanisms of his time. These runes formed the heart of the colosseum''s transformative capabilities, enabling it to simulate entire environments. From summoning mist and fog to crafting rolling waves or shifting dunes, the mana engines King Arthur designed laid the groundwork for the immersive theater of war and wonder that the colosseum had become.


    Over the years, advancements brought additional wonders to The Crucible. Theatrical sound mechanisms were installed, using a combination of hollow channels in the walls and mana-powered amplifiers to carry the roars of battle, the clash of steel, and the cries of victory to every corner of the colosseum, ensuring even spectators seated at the highest tiers felt fully immersed in the action. Firework arrays marked moments of triumph or the commencement of grand events. Powered by both pyrotechnics and Arcanite, they lit up the sky in brilliant patterns, their thunderous echoes reverberating through the arena.


    Massive enchanted lanterns, hung from concealed brackets, glowed with steady brilliance to illuminate night events. For especially dramatic spectacles, mages worked alongside runesmiths to coordinate luminance with key moments, heightening tension and drama. Adaptive acoustics, introduced by later kings, could mimic the soundscapes of the environments being simulated¡ªwhether the howling winds of a tundra, the distant crash of ocean waves, or the eerie silence of a dense forest. Combined with its visual transformations, The Crucible truly transported its audience into another world.


    Yet, even with these advancements, the colosseum was far from automated. Each transformation required collaboration between human hands and magical precision. Skilled laborers transported trees, hauled water, and assembled props, their efforts amplified by the arcane energy coursing through the colosseum''s walls. Generations of kings and craftsmen added layers to King Arthur''s work, refining and expanding its systems until The Crucible of Realms became the legendary arena it was today.


    This morning, the vast stands of The Crucible of Ascendants stood eerily empty. It was staged as the scorched desert of Zaar, a brutal and unrelenting expanse in Nvaars known for its blistering heat and ever-shifting dunes. Golden sands stretched across the arena floor, shimmering with illusionary heat waves conjured by mana devices. The air itself felt dry and heavy, the effect so convincing that even seasoned warriors could mistake the simulation for reality.


    At the center of the simulated desert stood King Elijah.


    Elijah''s breathing was steady but distinct; every inhale and exhale drew mana so strongly that it shaped the air around him. His golden aura seemed alive, like a natural extension. Unlike the flickering flames of lesser ranks, his mana had transcended into a constant, visible aura, a halo that shimmered and shifted with golden intensity. A testament to his Champion realm.


    The past two days had been devoted to training the lower regiments, their sessions intense yet relatively straightforward. Today it was the elite regiment''s turn.


    The Ironhelm Elite Guards stood in a meticulously arranged formation, each unit strategically positioned to achieve maximum efficiency. At the forefront were the frontline guards, a formidable wall of heavily armored soldiers, each holding either a spear or a short sword. A solitary commander led them. Behind, stood the bowmen, their quivers full and bows drawn, ready to rain strikes.


    To the sides, the spearmen formed flanking units, their long weapons angled outward to repel any attempts at a breach, while behind the entire formation were the axe-wielders, a reserve force of powerful close-combat specialists, ready to charge forward and exploit any opening created by the vanguard.


    Flanking the entire line were the lightning-fast skirmishers, lightly armored and armed with throwing knives and short swords, darting in and out of the formation to harass and distract the enemy.


    Further back stood the battle mages, their hands raised in focus, prepared to channel destructive elemental magic or shields to support their comrades in battle. They stood ready to enhance the formation''s resilience or create devastating attacks when the moment arrived.


    Finally, the clerics remained in the core of formation behind the mages.


    Each one of them knew this was no ordinary exercise. Elijah''s Champion realm power was legendary¡ªa force even ascendants didn''t dare challenge, yet today, they were tasked to do just that.


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    Elijah''s voice broke the tense silence, carrying weight of command. "Discipline is the backbone of power," he began, his golden aura shimmering faintly as he spoke. "Strength alone will not win battles. You must move as one¡ªbreathe as one. Hesitation is defeat. A scattered formation is a broken one. Show me that you understand."


    The guards shifted slightly, their stances firming, their grips tightening on their equipments. Elijah''s eyes swept over them, one last time. "Remember, your strength lies in your unity. Do not seek individual glory¡ªit is the downfall of many warriors greater than you. Now, come at me with everything you have. Show me¡ª Ironhelm''s finest."


    A moment of silence passed, the only sound the faint whistle of the simulated wind through the dunes.


    With a sudden burst of speed, Elijah closed the distance to the front line, his mana surging with such intensity that the sands beneath him warped like waves in a storm. His movements were precise, each strike calculated not to injure but to disrupt.


    The frontline commander yelled with resolve. "Hold the line!" he shouted, raising his shield just as the golden wave of mana crashed against their defensive formation. The Vanguard Shell was enacted with practiced precision, the seventy soldiers at the frontline bracing against the impact with unwavering discipline. Their shields absorbed the brunt of the force, but the sheer power pushed them back. Falling in unison, they retreated closer to the line of bowmen stationed behind them, their movements reduced the strain of the attack.


    Elijah was already in next motion. His shadow blurred as he carried the momentum of his movement forward, his speed unmatched. He leapt over the Vanguard Shell, his sword gleaming with golden mana, and aimed to strike directly at the bowmen.


    A shadow of King Elijah loomed in the dust storm, his form indistinct but unmistakably powerful. The frontline commander bellowed with a roar, "ARROWS!" His voice thundered across the battlefield, signaling the bowmen to release their mana-infused projectiles high into the air.


    A fraction of a second later, the sky darkened as hundreds of glowing arrows arced overhead. The sandstorm stirred by Elijah''s previous strike obscured the scene, but the sound of whistling projectiles filled the air. The elite guards watched with tense anticipation as the volley hurtled toward its target.


    As the arrows rained down, Elijah spun his sword in a vertical plane, the blade slicing through the air with precision. A fierce gust of wind erupted from the swing, scattering the arrows into the sand and leaving no trace of their intended trajectory.


    The sound of Elijah landing on the sandstorm''s edge echoed through the arena, a sharp, resounding thud that reverberated across the field.


    Elijah''s voice rang out, with an impressed tone, "You''ve improved Commander Matthew." "Your timing is sharper."


    The dust storm quickly cleared, and the commander''s face twisted with horror as the full extent of his king''s speed and precision became clear. Elijah had landed directly in front of the healers, who were positioned behind the mages. The healers were caught off guard by his sudden appearance, and now they struggled in vain to free themselves from his powerful Bind¡ªa magical force that held them suspended in mid-air, the sand swirling around them as they fought to break free.


    Elijah had not landed with his sword in hand. Instead, in the moments prior, during the vertical slash, he threw his sword, using the release of it to alter his trajectory midflight. This move allowed him to gain more speed and change his course, landing swiftly in front of the healers, disrupting the formation entirely.


    His voice rang out, calm but edged with disapproval. "But the mages should''ve also anticipated that."


    His words hung in the air as the situation became painfully clear. The battlefield had shifted dramatically. With the healers immobilized the formation''s balance was thrown into chaos.


    The axe wielders braced themselves, their hands tightening around their weapons as they prepared to face the full force of King Elijah''s might. They exchanged wary glances, silently acknowledging the overwhelming challenge before them. Despite their resolve, the weight of the situation bore down on them like a heavy stone.


    Elijah didn''t give them time to process his first strike. Instead of engaging the axe wielders directly, he employed a second trick¡ªa maneuver so swift and precise that the guards barely registered it before it was too late.


    The sword he had thrown earlier, the one now buried in the sand infront of the frontline shields, , began to stir. It moved as though guided by a force, tethered to Elijah''s will. The blade shot through the air, its trajectory unwavering as it flew back toward him.


    In the blink of an eye, the sword crashed through the ranks of the frontline who faced their backs to it, disordered by the clerics'' loss.


    The soldiers closest to the impact staggered, their shields splintering under the weight of the magical blade. The mages, who had begun to regroup after the earlier assault, found themselves in the trajectory of the sword, pierced by the sword''s arc, their attempts at defense too slow to matter. The few remaining axe wielders who had hoped to hold their ground were swept aside, their forms tossed like ragdolls by the force of the attack.


    Elijah knew exactly what he had done. He had tied the sword down with Invisible Strand, ensuring it would return with lethal precision to strike where the enemy was most vulnerable.


    His cold gaze lingered on the remnants of the elite force, now scattered and broken, as the echoes of his movement faded into the desert winds.


    The aftermath was immediate and devastating. The once-proud formation of the elite regiment of guards lay in disarray, their lines shattered, their unity broken. The front was a tangle of bodies, weapons, and shattered shields. The healers, suspended in the air by Elijah''s Bind, remained trapped, their desperate struggles doing little to loosen the magical force that held them in place. The mages, once positioned strategically behind the front lines, were nowhere to be seen¡ªlost in the chaos of Elijah''s devastating strike. Their ability to support was nullified, and their absence left a gaping hole in the formation.


    The skirmishers and spearmen, though spared from direct attack, stood frozen in place. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, watching as the destruction unfolded in front of them. Though they had not faced a direct blow, the sheer ferocity and speed of King Elijah''s assault had already broken their spirits. The sight of their comrades, some lying motionless and others struggling to rise, drained the last ounce of resolve from them. They no longer had the will to fight, their morale shattered beyond repair.


    With just two Master Spells and a movement skill within the very limits of speed, of the formation, Elijah decimated the backbone of the elite guards.

 The Crucible of Ascendants - II

    The training ended, and the Colosseum echoed with labored breathing of soldiers. Servants rushed in from the edges of the arena, carrying water and bandages, their hurried steps kicking up trails of dust as they moved to tend to the exhausted men and women. The soldiers accepted their aid silently, some with grateful nods, others too drained to even acknowledge them.


    King Elijah stood at the center of the arena, his golden aura dimming as he dispelled the Bind that had held the clerics in midair. Freed at last, the clerics moved immediately to their comrades, their mana-infused hands glowing with healing magic. Wounds began to close, and the worst injuries were soothed by their touch. Alongside them worked mortal physicians, their practiced hands applying salves and dressing cuts with swift efficiency.


    Elijah watched them, his expression unreadable. His golden aura had faded, but the weight of his presence remained. After a moment, he moved across the battlefield, his steps slow and deliberate. The soldiers who noticed his approach straightened instinctively, despite their exhaustion.


    Elijah stopped in front of the fallen commander, who was kneeling in the sand, his armor battered and dented from the skirmish. The commander''s head was bowed, his hands resting on his thighs as he struggled to catch his breath. Without a word, Elijah extended a hand toward him.


    The commander looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. He hesitated, his hand hovering just above Elijah''s. "I¡­ I''ve failed you, Your Majesty," he said, his voice strained but steady. "Even though you held back, I couldn''t hold the formation."


    Elijah''s gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "You did not fail, Matthew. You were tested, and you stood your ground. That is what matters."


    The commander finally took the offered hand, and Elijah pulled him to his feet with ease. Dusting himself off, the commander straightened his back, though the weight of disappointment apparent in his expression.


    "But the formation broke," the commander insisted, his voice tinged with frustration. "Our lines collapsed. I failed to anticipate your tactics, and my men paid the price."


    Elijah placed a hand on the commander''s shoulder, his grip steady and reassuring. "You are too harsh on yourself. This exercise was not about perfection¡ªit was about growth. The mistakes made here are lessons to be carried into battle. You and your men held longer than I expected, and your adaptability impressed me."


    The commander met his king''s gaze, the sincerity in Elijah''s words easing some of the doubt in his mind. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, though the fire of determination in his eyes remained. "We will do better next time."


    Elijah gave a small nod, releasing his grip. "That is all I ask. Learn from this, and continue to push your limits. Victory is not won by flawless warriors but by those who refuse to give up."


    With that, Elijah turned his attention back to the rest of the regiment, leaving the commander standing taller than before, the weight of his perceived failure now tempered by resolve.


    Elijah stepped forward. The soldiers, weary and bruised, looked up at him with a mix of awe and disbelief. His voice, steady yet resonant, cut through the air.


    "The training you ran today," he began, addressing the entire regiment, "was not just a test of your strength or formation. It was a reflection of my very first battle¡ªa battle I barely survived."


    A ripple of shock passed through the ranks, whispers breaking out as soldiers exchanged startled glances. Elijah raised a hand to quiet them, his gaze unwavering.


    "Yes," he confirmed, "the same formation that I tore through today was the one that nearly defeated me back then. I was young, brimming with power and confidence, and I thought that talent alone would be enough to guarantee victory. I believed I was invincible, untouchable."


    His voice grew quieter, almost reflective. "But I was wrong. The power I struck with today is no different than the power I had then. And yet, back then, I was brought to my knees."


    He paused, letting the weight of his admission settle over them. The soldiers were stunned. The idea of their invincible king once struggling seemed almost impossible.


    "So, I ask you now," Elijah said, his voice gaining strength, "how did I win today, where I once struggled?"


    The silence that followed was heavy. No one dared to speak. The soldiers stared at their king, their confusion mingled with curiosity.


    Elijah answered his own question, his tone firm and commanding. "Today, I won because I fought with knowledge. I won because I respected my enemies. I didn''t allow my pride to blind me, didn''t underestimate the threat before me. Every strike I made was deliberate. Every movement calculated. I gave no openings, no chances, no mercy. That is how I won."


    His gaze swept over the regiment, his words growing sharper. "You think greatness is a gift? You think power is simply handed to you?" He shook his head. "No! Greatness is earned, not given. It is forged through discipline, through countless failures, through years of dedication and sacrifice. What you see in me today is not talent alone¡ªit is the result of unrelenting hard work, of never giving up, of choosing to rise every time I fell."


    The soldiers straightened, his words igniting something within them. Elijah''s voice grew louder, filled with authority and passion.


    "Each and every one of you has that same potential. Every one of you can rise to greatness, but only if you choose it. Only if you are willing to endure, to learn, to fight with every fiber of your being. Power is not born¡ªit is built. And together, we will build it."Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He gestured toward them, his expression fierce yet encouraging. "So rise! Rise as warriors of Ironhelm! Rise, and let the strength of this kingdom flow through your veins. The strength to endure. The strength to stand. The strength to win¡ªnot just for yourselves, but for the future of this kingdom."


    For a moment, silence followed his words, the weight of his speech hanging heavy in the air. Then, slowly, a cheer began to build¡ªsoft at first, but quickly growing louder.


    "Long live His Majesty!"


    "Glory to Ironhelm!"


    The shouts echoed through the colosseum, a roaring wave of unity and renewed determination. Elijah stood amidst it all, his gaze steady, his presence commanding. He knew, in that moment, that the fire of resilience had been reignited in his soldiers. Together, they would rise, stronger than ever before.


    As Elijah began to make his way out of the colosseum, the cheering of the soldiers still echoing behind him, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. A sudden wave of overwhelming mana swept through the arena, pressing down on everyone present with a force so immense that even the most seasoned warriors felt their knees weaken. The stands, which had been empty moments before, now held the silhouette of an old, robed man. His presence was quiet, yet it commanded absolute attention.


    The soldiers instinctively readied their weapons, but their movements were sluggish under the sheer pressure of the mana.


    The old man spoke, his tone calm and filled with respect. "King Elijah, may I have the honor of a spar with you?"


    As the words left his mouth, he stepped forward¡ªnot with the slow gait one might expect of someone his age, but with a movement so fluid it was almost unnatural. His robed figure seemed to glide down from the stands, descending effortlessly to the colosseum floor. The faint flux of mana trailed behind him, the very air parting to accommodate his presence.


    Within moments, he stood directly in front of Elijah. Though his posture was relaxed, his presence was anything but. His sharp, piercing eyes locked onto Elijah''s, and for a moment, the air seemed to hum with an unspoken challenge.


    The soldiers could only watch in stunned silence, still struggling to comprehend the sheer power emanating from the old man. Despite the casual way he moved, there was an undeniable weight to his presence.


    The simplicity of his words belied the immense power that radiated from him. Every soldier froze, their gazes darting between the figure and their king. Elijah, however, seemed unshaken. He paused for a moment, studying the robed figure before him. Slowly, a smile broke through, and he bowed deeply.


    "It would be my honor," Elijah said, his voice steady and filled with reverence. "Grandfather."


    A collective gasp rippled through the ranks as realization dawned upon them. The tension eased, and the soldiers who had been ready to defend their king now relaxed their guard. The aura of mana that had suffused the arena seemed to shift, no longer oppressive but instead warm and commanding.


    The old man stepped forward, his face coming into view. Though his hair and beard were streaked with white, his sharp eyes glimmered with mischief, and his posture, though casual, hinted at the strength of a seasoned warrior.


    He chuckled, a low, rich sound that carried across the arena. "Don''t try to be clever now, boy. Just because I''ve grown old doesn''t mean you get to bully me like I used to bully you."


    Elijah straightened, the faintest hint of a smile still on his face as he replied, his tone laced with respect. "You jest, Grandfather. I wouldn''t stand a chance against you, should you truly wish it."


    Lionel Orlean, the 26th King of Ironhelm, was a living legend in his own right. His reputation as "Lionel the Unyielding" still commanded reverence across the kingdom, even in his old age. But today, his demeanor was full of mischief.


    Lionel waved a hand dismissively, his grin widening as he leaned on his sword with casual ease. "Bah, you''ve become too serious, boy. Can''t even get a rise out of you anymore. I suppose that''s what happens when a lad grows into a king."


    Elijah''s expression softened, but his respect remained evident. "Perhaps, Grandfather. But I have you to thank for teaching me the discipline I needed to become the man I am today."


    The old man sighed theatrically, shaking his head. "Enough of that flattery. You''re just making me feel older." He glanced over at the soldiers, many of whom were still staring in awe. "Maybe I should train with your guards instead. They seem like they could use a little excitement."


    For a brief moment, the faint golden glow of mana flickered beside Elijah¡ªthe King''s personal guards revealing themselves momentarily from their camouflaged positions. It wasn''t by choice, but rather because the elder''s keen eyes had seen through their concealment effortlessly, forcing them into view.


    The soldiers in the arena tensed slightly, unsure if the elder''s words were a jest or a promise, but Elijah simply chuckled, glancing toward his guards. "I''m sure they''ve already conceded defeat," he said, his tone light yet tinged with amusement.


    Lionel stroked his beard, a sly grin spreading across his face. "No one wants to spar with this old man anymore," he lamented, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "Maybe I should ask my friends instead. At least they wouldn''t make excuses!"


    His words carried a playful edge, but the mana that still radiated from him left no doubt about the strength he could summon if necessary. Elijah, smiling warmly, inclined his head, his respect for his grandfather evident in every gesture.


    His playful demeanor faded as he placed a firm hand on Elijah''s shoulder. "Come, Elijah. I wish to speak with you ¡ª alone," he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. Without waiting for a reply, he gestured toward one of the special luxury boxes overlooking the colosseum.


    The two made their way into the private room, sounds of the colosseum below faded into silence. The elder turned to face Elijah, his expression somber, his penetrating gaze fixed on the younger man.


    "So, tell me," the elder said, his voice low but heavy with expectation. "Has my Liam broken through yet?"


    Elijah remained silent for a moment, his features unreadable. Then, with a simple shake of his head, he delivered the answer.


    The elder exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of the world had settled on them. "Don''t be harsh on him," he said softly, reaching into his robes and producing a small potion bottle. The glass seemed otherworldly, with faint, shifting colors, its contents swirling like captured starlight. "Take this," he said, pressing the bottle into Elijah''s hand.


    His voice wavered as he continued, his tone filled with regret. "I failed to protect him, Elijah." His gaze dropped, and a single tear fell, glistening as it traced the lines of his weathered face. "I didn''t even attend his birthday. My grandson¡­ my boy¡­"


    Before Elijah could respond, the elder''s entire demeanor shifted. In a flash, he unsheathed a sword, the blade shimmered like a moonbeam in dim light. The weapon, long and slender, carried the weight of ancient power, and its gleam reflected the harsh seriousness in the elder''s expression. He took one final, sharp glance at Elijah, then without a word, bolted from the suite with a speed that defied his age.


    The air in the colosseum grew thick, as though the arena itself was holding its breath. The brief, fleeting moment of heavy atmosphere passed as the elder disappeared, leaving behind a trace of lightning aura. His departure was so sudden, so forceful, that the very energy of the space seemed to bend under his presence.


    As the tension began to lift, Elijah''s gaze remained fixed, his expression unwavering. Suddenly, an invisible voice spoke beside him once more, "Sire ¡ª Ascended Lionel¡­"


    With a single motion, Elijah silenced the voice, his command chilling and absolute. "Daemeers will face his wrath today. No one under the heavens can stop him."


    The finality in Elijah''s words, and the stillness that followed was palpable.

 The Crucible of Ascendants - III

    As the echoes of Lionel''s departure faded from the colosseum, Elijah turned his attention back to his guards. His commanding presence taking hold of the atmosphere once more.


    "Gather the reports from the seven borders," Elijah ordered. "I want a detailed account. Have it ready before we leave tomorrow."


    The faintest shift in the air signaled the acknowledgment. "It will be done, Your Majesty," came a crisp response.


    Elijah nodded, his mind already turning to the journey ahead. Tomorrow, he would leave for the border. But for the past three days, he had dedicated himself to his family.


    Before departing the colosseum, Elijah''s gaze flicked to another unseen figure nearby. "Send word to Butler Edwin. I want him within an hour," he commanded.


    Another faint ripple in the air confirmed the order as the guard faded from sight. Elijah exhaled deeply, his expression briefly softening.


    With the preparations for tomorrow underway, Elijah made his way back to the palace.


    In the quiet sanctum of the royal study, Elijah sat at his ornate desk, golden lamplight illuminating a sea of reports and correspondence spread before him. His eyes moved methodically across the parchment, absorbing every detail of the kingdom''s affairs.


    From the shadows, a faint voice broke the silence "Your Majesty, Sir Edwin seeks an audience. Shall I grant him leave to enter?"


    Elijah didn''t lift his gaze from the document in his hand. "Show him in," he said calmly.


    The air seemed to shift as the invisible guard vanished to fulfill the command. Moments later, the double doors to the study opened silently, and Butler Edwin entered with practiced grace. His crisp uniform was immaculate, his every movement exuding the polished demeanor of a man who had served the royal family for decades.


    Edwin paused a respectful distance from the desk, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, I am at your service."


    "Edwin," Elijah began, setting the document aside, "how do you assess the stability of your realm?"


    A flicker of surprise crossed Edwin''s face, but he quickly composed himself. "Your Majesty, I am honored that you are aware of my recent advancement to Master realm. This progression should enable me to serve Master Liam for a twenty odd years ."


    Elijah''s eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you been vigilant in observing him?"


    Edwin hesitated. "Your Majesty, may I request a more private setting to discuss this matter?"


    Elijah nodded, signaling his guard to depart. "I trust Edwin. Leave us."


    The guards departed without a sound.


    "Continue," Elijah prompted.


    Edwin took a measured breath. "With all respect to my king, I have not fulfilled this task as perhaps you intended."


    Elijah remained silent, wanting Edwin to elaborate.


    "From the time Master Liam was but three years old, I was assigned to be his butler and to observe him closely, though I was never told the reasons for this surveillance," Edwin confessed. "Despite my covert duties, Master Liam has always treated me with grace. He has never shown anger or spoken harshly. He even allocated funds from his own expenses for my daughter''s education. Yet, I continued to spy on him."


    Edwin''s voice wavered slightly. "Whenever I sensed something amiss in his quarters¡ªbe it pain, a headache, or a troubled dream ¡ª I would intrude, not out of concern, but to fulfill my duty of surveillance. Over time, Master Liam grew distrustful. He placed a plank against his door, attempting to bar my entry, but still, I resorted to Through Sight  to observe him, only to witness his suffering."


    He paused, collecting himself. "On his twelfth birthday, I resolved that perhaps my king had erred in suspecting Master Liam. Compelled to serve him fully ¡ª without a shadow of espionage, I began from that day onward, knowing that by his thirteenth birthday, he would have the right to contend for the throne."


    Edwin straightened, his demeanor resolute. "If Your Majesty deems my actions a betrayal, you may rightfully take my life. However, I can no longer betray Master Liam, who has shown me nothing but grace."


    Elijah silently acknowledged Edwin''s loyalty, his gaze steady yet burdened with unspoken thoughts. Without a word, he retrieved the small, potion bottle from his desk and held it out to the butler.


    "Serve this to Liam," Elijah instructed, his voice low but firm, "without his knowledge. For the final time."


    Edwin hesitated, his eyes narrowing at the bottle. As realization dawned, his hand trembled. "Essence Flame¡­" he whispered, his voice betraying his shock. "Why, my king? You could have given it to Prince Ad¡ª"This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Elijah cut him off, his tone calm yet resolute. "Just as you care for Liam, I care for him too¡ª more than you could ever imagine. And even more so does his grandfather." He paused, his gaze softening. "This Essence Flame¡­ it was from him."


    The butler''s expression faltered, his lips parting in surprise.


    Elijah continued, his voice carrying both relief and authority. "If you''ve truly seen nothing wrong with Liam, aside from his condition, then I am relieved. Relieved that nothing has gone astray with him. It eases a burden I have carried for far too long."


    Edwin bowed his head, his heart heavy with understanding, and carefully accepted the bottle. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he murmured.


    Liam sat by his window, the quiet hum of the bell tower marking the second hour of the afternoon. He was deeply absorbed in the pages of The Mortal Dream, a book he had borrowed from the Arcanum, its cryptic text both haunting and enlightening. The world outside was distant, his focus unwavering as the words on the page seemed to speak directly to him.


    A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.


    Without looking up, Liam flicked his mana signature, causing the door to open with a quiet creak. Edwin stepped in, his gaze falling upon Liam as he continued reading.


    "Should I bring you your lunch, Master Liam?" Edwin asked, his tone polite but distant.


    Liam, still with his eyes fixed on the book, replied without emotion. "Will Father be having lunch with the family?"


    "Yes, Your Highness," Edwin answered. "But perhaps you should spend some time with him. He leaves for the borders soon, maybe tomorrow."


    Liam didn''t respond, his mind still far away. "Just bring me something to eat," he said, his voice absent.


    As Edwin nodded and prepared to leave, Liam''s thoughts wandered. ''Although I can''t advance beyond Champion, I won''t give up altogether. It doesn''t matter if I become king or not, as long as I have my parents, they will always have me. I''ve given too much credit to my condition for my laziness. I will be the genius I once was ¡ª not in realms perhaps, but in scholarly pursuits.''


    His mind refocused on the book, but his thoughts remained conflicted, uncertain.


    A short while later, Edwin returned, bringing with him a meal that was far richer in flavor than usual. He placed the dish before Liam with quiet care.


    Liam paused and glanced at the food, then looked up at Edwin. "What''s the occasion?" he asked, his tone sharp. "Why is it different from what I usually get?"


    Edwin hesitated, his expression tight. "Trisha is absent today, Your Highness. The portions were brought from the serving in the dining hall."


    Liam didn''t press further. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his voice softening. "If she needs anything, tell me. The money I have here for expenses isn''t meant to sit idly by, after all. Maybe some of it should be used."


    Edwin offered a small, polite smile. "I appreciate your offer, but it''s nothing serious. She''s simply attending a personal occasion."


    Liam didn''t say more, simply nodding and picking at his meal. "From now on," he said, a quiet resolve in his voice, "exclude me from the special treatment list. Whatever my family eats, I will have too."


    Edwin''s eyes widened in surprise. The House of Orlean had a strict rule: all family members ate together. But Liam had never followed it¡ªhe couldn''t be restrained by resource allotment, as he had no need for it. Edwin feared he had angered Liam.


    "Shall I prepare something else for you, Your Highness?" Edwin asked, his voice hesitant. He was reluctant to seek denial, especially since the food had been prepared to mask the essence flame.


    Liam''s gaze lifted from the book, and he met Edwin''s eyes. "Ease up. I don''t need special treatment. I''m not a child anymore."


    Liam set the book down and looked at the butler with calm resolve. "I just want a change. I don''t want to be treated differently," he replied. "And close the door behind you."


    As Edwin left, the meal before Liam slowly settled in, but with it came an overwhelming wave of sleepiness. His eyelids grew heavy, and his mind began to drift.


    I will change for my family. For those who love me.


    With that thought, Liam succumbed to the drowsiness, and the room around him faded as he slipped into sleep.


    In Liam''s dream, he found himself in a dimly lit chamber, standing before Graham, who held a small vial aloft with evident pride.


    "This," Graham began, his voice filled with excitement, "is my life''s work ¡ª the Essence Flame."


    He gestured to the vial, its contents glowing faintly.


    "The term ''flame'' is a misnomer," Graham continued. "It''s actually condensed mana in its purest form, so much so that it manifests as a tangible substance."


    Graham''s eyes gleamed with elation as he added, "And do you know how long it took me to produce just this single drop? A whole year of relentless tempering and refining. A year of dedication, and this is the result."


    The familiar voice responded, its tone skeptical. "But who would willingly sacrifice their lifespan for such a thing? It''s not worth it."


    Graham chuckled softly. "No ascendant would do it," he replied. "I did it for research. If others knew about it, they''d seek it for resources. I realized it can''t be forced; it requires a peaceful mind to create this much. The mana has to be kept in your heart, away from the pulse . . . Perhaps someone might do it for love."


    The voice fell silent, contemplating Graham''s words.


    Graham''s gaze softened as he looked at the vial. "I believe someone will," he murmured, almost to himself.


    The dream began to fade, leaving Liam with a lingering sense of purpose and a deeper understanding of the sacrifices made for the sake of love and knowledge.


    Liam awoke, his body still nestled in the chair, the remnants of his meal before him. The utensils lay untouched. He called out softly, "Edwin?"


    Moments later, the door creaked open, and Edwin entered, his face etched with concern. "Master Liam," he began, his voice tinged with worry, "you should respond to my knocks. I was very concerned. Only I know how I kept myself from rushing inside to check on you."


    Liam met his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I apologize, Edwin," he said sincerely. "I''ve never had such a good meal. For the first time in my life, I felt bliss."


    Edwin''s expression softened, relief washing over him. "I''m glad to hear that, Master Liam," he replied, his voice warm.


    As Edwin departed, carrying the tray with the remnants of Liam''s meal, the bell tower chimed twelve times, signaling the second hour of the afternoon. Dinner would be served in two hours.


    Liam, still seated at his desk, called out, "Edwin, please wait."


    Edwin paused at the door, turning back with a questioning look.


    "Will Father be having dinner with the family today?" Liam inquired.


    "Yes, Master Liam," Edwin replied.


    Liam nodded thoughtfully.


    "Then please prepare a place for me at the table," he requested.


    Edwin''s face lit up with a warm smile.


    "Of course, Master Liam," he said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "There is always a place for you at the table."


    With a respectful bow, Edwin exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.


    Liam sat back in his chair, a sense of contentment settling over him. In a long while, he felt a need to heal the bond with his family that had been strained.

 Auxiliary Chapter - Excerpts from "The Mortal Dream"

    The Mortal Dream - by Alaric Wyndhaven


    Excerpts from: Preface


    To wield mana is to awaken the burning heart within¡ªthe Mana Flame. Its color reflects the wielder''s mastery, while its brightness reveals their potential. This is the spectrum of ascension, where the hue of one''s flame transforms as their heart grows stronger, and the light of their flame brightens as their bond with mana deepens.


    The journey of mana begins with a single spark ¡ª the very first ignition of life''s energy, manifesting as a tiny, flickering flame within the heart. This spark is the beginning of ascendancy, a path that stretches far beyond the mortal existence, into the very fabric of power and mastery. The path is long, but every step along the way is marked by the brilliance of a growing flame, each stage of your progress shaping not only your strength but your very essence.


    Born to a noble father and a commoner mother, it''s my journey to mastery that defied expectations. From the first spark as an Initiate to the blazing inferno of the Warlord, each realm marked a transformation, both in my power and spirit.


    Excerpts from Chapter 2: The Crimson Spark


    . . .


    My father rarely spoke of the years before I was born. When he did, it was often in quiet moments, his voice low, as though sharing a secret too delicate to be said aloud. One such moment came when I was struggling as an Initiate, barely able to coax the faintest flicker from within. Frustration burned hotter than the mana flame I longed to summon, and I remember throwing down my training staff in despair.


    That was when my father, usually a stern man, sat beside me. He didn''t scold me. Instead, he told me a story.


    "Alaric," he began, his gaze distant, "before you were born, many doubted you would even have the chance to spark a flame. You see, our family, the Wyndhavens, were already hanging by a thread as nobles ¡ª just a baroncy, the lowest of the low. And then I did what they considered unthinkable. I married your mother."


    He paused then, perhaps expecting me to interrupt. But I didn''t. I couldn''t.


    "She wasn''t just a commoner, Alaric ¡ª she was a mortal. A woman with no mana, no lineage, no place in our world. My family mocked me endlessly, saying I had doomed our bloodline. They told me a child born of such a union would have no chance of igniting the flame. They called it fate."


    His voice hardened then, the steel of defiance in his tone. "But your mother¡ªyour mother never gave up hope. She was the only one who dared to believe in you, even before you existed. While the world doubted, she dreamed. She dreamed of giving birth to a child who could hold a mana flame in their heart, even if she herself could not. She called it ''the mortal''s dream.''"


    I swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in my throat. He rarely spoke of my mother, and when he did, it was always with reverence.


    "When you were born," he continued, "the midwives and clerics barely glanced at you. They thought you hadn''t sparked the flame, dismissing you as just another mortal child. But your mother¡ªyour mother, even as a mortal herself, could sense what they could not. And when I held you up in my arms, I felt it too. There it was¡ªfaint, fragile, but unmistakable. You had ignited the mana flame."


    He paused, his voice softening as his gaze drifted, lost in the memory. "Your mother and I rejoiced that day. I remember her face¡ªit was radiant, brighter than any flame. She was the happiest I had ever seen her. To the world, you may have been ordinary, but to her, you were everything. You were the proof that defiance could shape destiny."


    His eyes met mine then, hard and unyielding, yet filled with a quiet warmth. "So, Alaric, I ask you not to struggle so fiercely against yourself. Don''t let doubt extinguish what she believed in so deeply. You were born out of defiance, out of hope, and even though your mother has left us, she has also left me the faith that you were never ordinary in the first place. You have always been extraordinary."


    In that moment, the weight of his words settled into my chest, an anchor of truth that steadied me against the storm of self-doubt. My mother''s faith, my father''s defiance¡ªit all led to this. The spark within me flickered once more, this time not out of desperation, but out of quiet resolve.


    . . .


    Excerpts from Chapter 3: The Blaze of Initiate


    First Blaze: Seeded Initiate


    The moment the spark ignites, a dim crimson flame flickers to life. This is the First Blaze, the Seeded Initiate, marking the birth of potential within you. In these early moments, the flame is fragile, a tender spark that signifies the beginning of your journey. The path ahead is uncertain, but with each breath, the flame begins to grow, slowly stabilizing, yet still faint in its glow. . .


    Second Blaze: Budding Initiate


    As days pass, the flame grows stronger, shedding its dim hue for a richer, more vibrant crimson. This is the Second Blaze, the Budding Initiate, where your flame begins to spread its reach. The mana becomes more consistent, more certain. It pulses with the early strength of growth, and the world around you begins to change in response to your growing power. . .


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Third Blaze: Rooted Initiate


    The flame becomes deeper, richer, as the Third Blaze emerges. The crimson hue stabilizes into a steady pulse of power, forming the Rooted Initiate. . .


    Fourth Blaze: Blooming Initiate


    A brilliant expansion . . .


    Fifth Blaze: Half-Step Initiate


    The flame reaches even greater intensity . . .


    Sixth Blaze: Tempered Initiate


    Through trial and hardship . . .


    Seventh Blaze: Wrought Initiate


    The flame becomes an artifact, a creation of . . .


    Eighth Blaze: Forged Initiate


    The furnace of will and. . .


    Ninth Blaze: Zenith Initiate


    At last, the Ninth Blaze, the Zenith Initiate, emerges . . .


    Tenth Blaze: Dawn of Apprentice


    The Tenth Blaze signals a momentous shift . . .


    Excerpts from Chapter 4: The Apprentice


    . . .


    I still remember how lucky I was that day. The entrance exam to the Stoneshank Academy was the most grueling test I had faced yet, and the weight of it pressed heavily on my shoulders. The journey had already been long¡ªdays of travel to reach a place so distant from my hometown, just for a chance to enroll in the best academy in my father''s barony. At twelve years old, I was only a half-step Apprentice, barely at the threshold of true tempering.


    The final entrance test was based on sparring results, and I had been paired with another half-step Apprentice, a wiry boy with a confidence that unnerved me. As we waited in the queue, the sparring ring loomed ahead, and with it, the judging eyes of the academy''s instructors. I felt the familiar pang of doubt gnaw at me.


    To steady myself, I decided to slip away to an empty training hall for one last practice session before my match. I needed to sharpen my focus, to refine the control over my flame. The dim orange hue of my mana flickered weakly as I called it forth, and frustration threatened to overwhelm me.


    But then it happened.


    As I channeled my mana into a defensive form, something within me shifted. The flickering flame steadied, glowing brighter, more vibrant¡ªa deeper, richer orange, like the heart of a sunrise. I felt the change surge through me, a rush of energy and clarity unlike anything I had experienced before. I had broken through. I was no longer a half-step Apprentice; I was now a tempered Apprentice, standing firmly at the sixth blaze.


    The exhilaration was overwhelming, but there was no time to dwell on it. The announcement for my match echoed through the hall, and I rushed back to the sparring ring. My opponent''s confident smirk faltered the moment we exchanged blows. I could feel it in the way his defenses crumbled under my strikes¡ªthis newfound strength, was mine now.


    When the match ended, I stood victorious. The instructors nodded in approval, and my name was called as one of the few to pass the entrance exam. That day, I learned two invaluable lessons: the importance of preparation, and the power of a breakthrough born of determination.


    Excepts from Chapter 5: The Blaze of an Apprentice


    . . . the Dawn of Apprentice, your journey begins again, the cycle repeating itself as you ascend through the realms once more. The flame stabilizes into the First Blaze of Apprentice, and with it, a new chapter begins, this time marked by a strikingly powerful hue¡ªa radiant Citrine Fire, an orange mana flame. . .


    Excerpt from Chapter 6: The Sunfire


    . . .


    The day I graduated from Stonehaven Academy was one I would never forget. It wasn''t just a celebration of years spent learning and growing¡ªit was the day my future, uncertain as it had been, became set in motion. As the top students lined up in front of the academy''s grand hall, the buzz of excitement and tension hung thick in the air. We were about to face the ultimate challenge: a test by the Ironhelm Royal Guards, who would select the finest candidates to join their ranks.


    The Royal Guards were known for their high standards, and even their weakest were formidable. As the event began, a single royal guard, an imposing figure with the stature of a seasoned warrior, stood before us. His presence alone was a testament to the strength of the Ironhelm forces, as from the scenes it looked like the weakest of the guards was pushed forward, his test was to test us. He was uninterested in showing off his skill. He carried with him a wooden shield and simply put a Reinforcement spell, designed to challenge even the most skilled of us.


    I watched as the first of my fellow students, those ranked above me, stepped forward. Each of them ¡ª whether a budding Adept or a rooted one ¡ª had a mastery over their mana, a skill honed through years of dedication. They charged at the shield with determination, attempting to break the enchantment and graze it with their attacks.


    One by one, they failed, and the royal guard merely re-applied the enchantment with a nonchalant shake of his shield. His movements were effortless. The barrier held strong against every strike, and I saw how close the others came to breaking through, only to be repelled by the immense force of the guard''s protection.


    Then it was my turn. I had been ranked ninth among the top students, and I was proud of how far I''d come¡ªbreaking through the Adept realm only a month before the final exams. But even with my newfound power, I knew I had to give everything to stand a chance.


    I focused on my mana heart. It burned with the brilliance of the yellow Sunfire, hotter and brighter than I had ever felt before. My breath steadied as I drew my sword, feeling the pulse of the flame surge through me. With a quick charge, I dashed toward the enchanted shield.


    As my sword came within inches of the barrier, I saw it¡ªa shift in the air, a subtle transparency in the enchantment that no one else had noticed. In that brief moment before contact, the shield''s defenses seemed to falter. I thrust my sword forward, and to my astonishment, it pierced through the shield, shattering the enchantment completely. The force sent ripples through the air, and I felt my strike connect with something else¡ªanother shield, one made entirely of mana.


    Before I could react, another royal guard intervened, appearing out of nowhere to shield the boy who had been testing us. The attack was not meant to harm, but the moment had taken everyone by surprise, and I could see the guard''s intervention had saved the shield bearer''s life.


    The tension in the air was palpable. I was shaking, uncertain if I had done something wrong. But when the royal guard spoke, his voice was filled with approval. "Impressive. You have the makings of a great warrior."


    To my astonishment, I was selected on the spot. At just fifteen years and nine months, I became the third youngest to join the ranks of the Ironhelm Royal Guards. It was a decision that would alter the course of my life forever, and I stood there, barely able to grasp the magnitude of what had just happened.


    As the ceremony concluded, I felt a mixture of exhilaration and disbelief. The royal guards had seen something in me that even I hadn''t even fully realized.


    . . .


    Excerpts from Chapter 7: The Blaze of an Adept


    . . . Dawn of Adept, your path has led you to a place where all the knowledge and power you''ve gathered culminate in a new form. As the dawn of your new journey breaks, the cycle begins once more. The flame stabilizes into the First Blaze of Adept, marking the beginning of a new ascent. With it comes a mana flame of unparalleled intensity¡ªa burning Yellow Sunfire, reminiscent of the scorching heat of the Zaar desert at midday. This radiant mana flame, hot as the sun itself, blazes with a fierceness and clarity that illuminates all that stands before you. It is a fire born of strength, of endurance, and of mastery¡ªeach flicker an embodiment of your rise to the next realm. . .

 Royal House of Orlean - I

    Trisha and Mara, worked with quiet efficiency, their hands moving swiftly to adjust his tunic and secure the silver clasps of his attire.


    The outfit, made of deep blue velvet with silver embroidery depicting the empire''s crest, was both elegant and commanding¡ªa perfect choice for the day''s formal occasion. Behind Liam, Edwin observed the process with his usual measured expression, ensuring every detail was perfect.


    As Trisha adjusted the final folds of his sash, Liam glanced at her, his sharp eyes catching the faint weariness in her features. "Is everything alright, Trisha?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine concern.


    Trisha paused, surprised by the question, and offered a small smile. "Thank you for your concern, Master Liam. I''m perfectly fine. I was just up late last night attending a wedding ceremony."


    "Wedding?" Liam raised a brow.


    "Yes, my cousin''s. It was a beautiful affair," Trisha said softly before resuming her work.


    As Liam stretched his arms slightly, allowing the maids to make final adjustments, he turned to Edwin. "Who will be present today?"


    Edwin adjusted his gloves, his voice steady and respectful. "Everyone from the royal family, Master Liam, except the Second Prince. His Highness has excused himself due to urgent matters elsewhere, thats why he was absent for your Rite of Recognition."


    Liam nodded, his face neutral, though he noted the absence of his second brother with mild curiosity. "I see."


    The royal dining hall was a grand, sprawling chamber designed to awe and inspire. The long table of polished obsidian stretched nearly the entire length of the room, its surface inlaid with delicate gold patterns. Above, a massive crystal chandelier hung like a crown, its countless facets scattering light into a dazzling display. Tall windows draped in deep crimson velvet allowed moonlight to stream in, casting the room in a regal glow.


    On the walls, enormous oil paintings depicted former kings and queens of the Ironhelm Empire, their eyes seeming to watch over the current generation.


    The royal family was already seated when Liam entered, each in their designated place.


    King Elijah''s seat at the head of the table stood empty, as he had yet to arrive. To the king''s immediate right sat Queen Isabella, her elegant posture commanding yet warm. Beside her was Queen Elara, the third queen. Further down the left side sat Queen Seraphina.


    The royal children filled the remaining seats, their places determined by age.


    As Liam entered the room, all heads turned toward him. A brief silence fell over the hall, his siblings exchanging subtle glances. It was rare for Liam to join them for such formal meals, and his presence clearly unsettled some of them.


    Queen Isabella rose gracefully from her seat, her expression shifting to one of motherly concern. She approached him, her gown of royal purple flowing like water behind her. "Liam," she said softly, her hands gently brushing his shoulders as she examined him. "Are you alright?"


    She turned her sharp gaze to Edwin. "Is everything well with him?"


    Edwin bowed slightly. "Master Liam is in perfect health, Your Majesty. He simply wished to attend today''s gathering."


    Isabella smiled faintly and placed a hand on Liam''s back, guiding him to his seat at the far end of the table. As he sat, she leaned closer and murmured, "I''m glad to see you here."


    The rest of the royal family exchanged quick glances, some curious, others wary.


    As the servants began placing the first course on the table, the hum of conversation resumed. The clinking of silverware echoed in the grand dining hall, mingling with the quiet rustle of silk and the occasional polite cough. Liam, seated near the far end, still waiting for his father to arrive.


    Finally, Crown Prince Adrian, sitting near the head of the table, broke the tension.


    "Liam," Adrian began, fixing his younger brother with a pointed gaze, "where have you been the past few days? Your absence didn''t go unnoticed."


    Liam paused, lifting his gaze briefly before offering a vague reply. "I wasn''t feeling well," he said simply.


    Adrian arched a brow, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press the matter further. "I see," he replied, returning to his meal, though his sharp eyes lingered on Liam for a moment longer.


    From further up the table, Prince Malcolm, the fifth-born and notorious for his humor, leaned forward with a grin. "Unwell, you say? What was it this time? Too much reading? Or too much sleeping?"


    A ripple of quiet laughter spread among the princes near him. Liam gave a small smile, but his gaze remained calm. "I''ll be sure to let you know if any of that happens, brother," he said dryly, earning a few chuckles from the younger siblings.


    Before the teasing could continue, Princess Cassandra, seated near the middle of the table, interjected with a warm smile. "Well, it''s good to see you here now, Liam. It''s been a while since we''ve all had a meal together."


    Liam nodded slightly in acknowledgment, but before he could respond, Princess Evaline and Princess Elaine, sitting a few seats away, leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.


    "Are you really unwell, Liam?" Evaline asked, her tone softer than Adrian''s but no less inquisitive.


    "And what brought you here today, then?" Elaine added, tilting her head as she studied him.


    "I''m feeling better now," Liam replied evenly, sidestepping the question about his sudden appearance. "I thought it was a good day to join the family."


    The twins exchanged knowing glances, clearly unsatisfied with his vague answers but too polite to push further.


    Directly across from Liam, Cecily, the youngest of the royal children, sat quietly, her large, curious eyes fixed on him. Her small frame nearly dwarfed by the high-backed chair she occupied.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Liam noticed her gaze and reached into the folds of his robe. Pulling out a small, intricately embroidered golden pouch, he leaned forward and placed it on the table before her.


    "For you, Cecily," he said softly.


    The young princess''s eyes widened in surprise, and she hesitated for a moment before carefully picking up the pouch. Untying the drawstring, she peeked inside and gasped with delight as she saw the small gold coins and a delicate charm shaped like a star.


    "Thank you, brother!" Cecily beamed, her voice bright and genuine. She held the charm up for the others to see. "Look! Isn''t it pretty?"


    The sight of her excitement brought a faint smile to Liam''s lips, and even some of the older siblings softened slightly at the innocent exchange.


    "Careful, Cecily," Malcolm joked lightly. "If Liam''s giving you gifts, he probably wants you to spy on the rest of us."


    Cecily puffed her cheeks indignantly. "He does not! You''re just jealous you didn''t get one!"


    Cassandra laughed softly, tilting her head at Liam. "Jealous? Not quite. But now I''m wondering why you didn''t bring anything for the rest of us, Liam. Don''t we deserve something too?"


    From further up the table, Evaline chimed in with a playful smirk. "Exactly. Where''s my golden pouch, little brother?"


    Elaine nodded in agreement, leaning forward. "Or at least a charm for us older sisters. You''re spoiling Cecily."


    Liam sat back in his chair, arms loosely crossed as he replied smoothly, "It''s simple. Younger ones get gifts from their elders, not the other way around. Cecily is the youngest, so it''s only fair that she gets something from me ¡ª"


    Liam raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly forward, his tone light and teasing. "¡ª and by that same logic, where are my presents?"


    The older siblings exchanged amused glances, and Cassandra was the first to reply with a wry smile. "We already gave you your presents, Liam, don''t you remember? At the ceremony."


    Evaline grinned. "But you took off before you even saw them. Maybe you should ask Butler Edwin where they went."


    All eyes turned to Edwin, who stood silently behind Liam''s chair. At first, Edwin looked slightly startled, but his composure quickly returned. "Your gifts, Master Liam, were placed neatly in your cupboard. I assumed you had already seen them."


    Liam blinked and turned to look at Edwin, his lips parting in mild surprise. "In my cupboard?"


    "Yes, Master Liam," Edwin replied. "They were wrapped and left prominently on the top shelf."


    Liam paused, his face betraying a flicker of embarrassment. "Oh¡­ So that''s what those were¡­" He trailed off, clearly scrambling for a better explanation. He straightened in his seat and cleared his throat. "Well, thank you, sisters. They were¡­ lovely. I appreciated them very much."


    The table erupted in laughter at Liam''s obvious attempt to cover his tracks. Cassandra shook her head, smiling. "You didn''t even open them, did you?"


    Evaline raised a hand dramatically. "I feel so appreciated, truly."


    Liam held up a hand, his voice light and dry. "Alright, alright. Thank you, truly. But don''t expect me to return the favor when your birthdays come around. Only Cecily will get something from me."


    He cast a glance at the youngest princess, who was still admiring her golden pouch. "Right, Cecily?"


    Cecily beamed, holding the charm close to her chest. "Right!"


    Malcolm leaned back, shaking his head with a grin. "I see how it is. Playing favorites, are we?"


    "Always," Liam replied with a sly smile, drawing another round of laughter from his siblings. For a moment, the dining hall felt more like a home, the formalities melting away. in the warmth of shared humor.


    As the laughter at Liam''s expense began to subside, the grand doors at the far end of the dining hall swung open with a measured creak. King Elijah entered, his commanding presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. The royal children straightened in their seats, and the queens inclined their heads respectfully.


    Dressed in a dark tunic with gold embroidery and a cloak that trailed behind him, Elijah moved with an air of unshakable authority. Without pausing, he made his way to the head of the table.


    Taking his seat, he glanced at the spread before them and then at the gathered family.


    "Why hasn''t anyone started yet?" he asked, his tone firm but not harsh. "I was a little late, but that''s no excuse. Meals are to begin on time."


    The queens exchanged subtle glances before responding, their tones measured and polite.


    Queen Isabella, ever composed, offered a gracious smile. "We waited because we value your presence, Your Majesty. It would not have felt right to begin without you."


    Queen Seraphina added, her voice soft but steady, "Your time is precious, my king, and we were happy to wait."


    Queen Elara, smiled slyly. "Besides, it gave the children time to chat. I believe they were catching up."


    Elijah''s sharp gaze softened slightly. "Very well," he said, gesturing to begin the dining. "Let''s not delay further."


    Elijah turned his attention to his sons, his keen eyes scanning each of them in turn. His voice carried a weight that demanded respect.


    "Adrian," he began, addressing the crown prince. "What news from the council this week? Have the negotiations with Arvandor progressed?"


    Adrian straightened in his chair, his tone calm and precise. "Yes, Father. The Arvandorian delegates seemed inclined toward an agreement, though they''ve made it clear they expect certain assurances. I''ve outlined a strategy to meet their expectations without compromising the kingdom''s position."


    Elijah nodded approvingly. "Good. We''ll discuss the details later. Keep pressing them, but don''t let them dictate terms."


    His gaze shifted to Edgar, the third prince. "Edgar, what of the military reports from your town? Have you reviewed the latest troop assessments?"


    Edgar nodded, his voice cool and collected. "I have, Father. My town''s borders remain secure, though there have been minor skirmishes with the Valtorians. Nothing significant, but it warrants vigilance."


    "Prepare a detailed report for me by tomorrow."


    Elijah''s gaze lingered on Liam longer than it had on the others, a faint crease forming on his brow. It was clear he had expected something, his expression tightened slightly, though he maintained his composed demeanor.


    After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice low and measured. "Trisha asked for a leave recently. Was there some issue with the meals, for you to come here at the dining hall?"


    Liam blinked at the unexpected question but maintained his composure. "No, Father," he replied carefully. "Edwin brought me something new from the dining hall recently, and I quite enjoyed it. Trisha just needed some time away for her own matters."


    Elijah''s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, studying Liam for a moment. He nodded slowly, though his silence seemed contemplative, as if still piecing something together.


    The conversation shifted again as the second course was served, but it wasn''t long before Elijah addressed Liam once more, this time in a tone that carried greater weight.


    "On the matter of your birthday," Elijah began, placing his utensils down and sitting back in his chair, "the ceremony was cut short due to your early departure. However, I intend to make things clear now. You are of age, and as tradition dictates, you will be granted a barony to oversee. You will run it for eight years, and upon completion, your performance will determine whether you are a viable contender for the throne."


    All eyes turned to Liam, who stiffened slightly at his father''s words.


    Liam took a deep breath before replying, "Father, I am honored by your decision, but I must respectfully decline. I do not intend to run for the throne. I am still far from breaking through the Initiate realm, and without achieving that, I don''t believe I am fit to take on such a responsibility."


    Elijah''s expression didn''t waver, but the faintest flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes. "You underestimate yourself, Liam. Running a barony is not just a privilege; it is your duty as a prince of this empire. And as for your realm, progress can be made. You are young and capable, far more than you seem to realize."


    Liam held his father''s gaze, his heart pounding. "I will, of course, serve the empire in any way I can, Father. But I believe that pursuing mastery in the arcane arts is where I can contribute best. Managing a barony would take me away from that focus."


    For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Elijah exhaled through his nose, his tone shifting to something firmer.


    "You have time to think on this, Liam. The decision is yours to make, but I will give you until the end of the month to prepare yourself."


    Liam bowed his head slightly, signaling his reluctant acceptance, though the unease in his chest remained.

 Royal House of Orlean - II

    Elijah shifted to the fourth prince, Prince Andrew, his tone taking on a sharper edge. "Andrew," he began, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Explain to me why the reports from your barony suggest inefficiency in the collection of taxes. Your region is one of the wealthiest in the empire, yet its contributions have fallen below expectations."


    Andrew''s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "Father, the recent droughts have impacted agricultural yields, and the merchants are struggling to recover. I''ve implemented measures to ¡ª "


    "Spare me excuses," Elijah interrupted, his tone cold. "It is your responsibility to adapt and overcome. The droughts are no excuse for negligence. I expect to see improvements immediately. Do not make me regret assigning you to such a prosperous region."


    Andrew lowered his gaze, bowing his head slightly. "Yes, Father. I will ensure the barony meets its obligations."


    Without another word, Elijah turned his attention to the next in line. His tone neutral as he addressed Prince Malcolm, the fifth prince. "Malcolm, your reports are ¡ª satisfactory. Continue ensuring your trade routes remain secure. Any sign of weakness will invite trouble."


    Malcolm gave a small nod, his expression calm. "Of course, Father. I''ve already increased patrols along the key trade routes."


    Elijah gave a curt nod and moved on to the sixth and seventh princes, who both received similar treatment. His questions were direct but without much emotion, their responses met with perfunctory approval.


    When he reached Prince Rowan, the eighth prince, his tone shifted, carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. "Rowan, I had higher hopes for your barony. The infrastructure projects you proposed remain incomplete, and the labor disputes persist. Why is that?"


    Rowan''s face flushed slightly, and he straightened in his seat. "The workers have been resistant to the new policies, Father, but I''ve been working to mediate ¡ª "


    "Working to mediate?" Elijah interrupted sharply. "That is not enough. Resolve the disputes decisively, or your projects will continue to falter. You are capable of more, Rowan. Show it."


    Rowan nodded, his voice subdued. "Yes, Father."


    The king''s sharp gaze moved to the ninth and tenth princes, his tone equally firm. "You both have stable regions, yet I see no innovation, no ambition in your reports. Are you content to merely maintain what was handed to you?"


    The ninth prince, Prince Gareth, responded first, his tone defensive. "I believed my priority was to ensure stability, Father. I didn''t want to risk ¡ª "


    "Risk is necessary for progress, Gareth," Elijah snapped. "Do not mistake stability for success. Learn to balance both."


    The tenth prince, Prince Elgar, nodded in agreement, his response quick. "Understood, Father. I''ll ensure my next report includes actionable plans for growth."


    Elijah''s attention shifted to Prince Caleb, a brief flicker of approval crossing his features. "Caleb," he said, his tone slightly softer, "you''ve managed your barony adequately, and I can see that you are taking it seriously."


    Elgar met his father''s eyes with unwavering confidence. "Thank you, Father. I will continue to put in the effort required."


    Finally, Elijah''s gaze landed on the twelfth prince, Prince Harry, his expression growing colder. "Harry, your performance has been lackluster at best. I gave you a barony that required little effort to govern, yet I see no signs of initiative or improvement. What excuse do you have?"


    Harry fumbled for a moment, his voice uneven. "Father, I ¡ª I believed the existing systems were functioning adequately, and I did not want to interfere ¡ª "


    "Interference is your duty when systems stagnate," Elijah cut him off, his voice like a whip. "I expect more from you, Harry. Do not waste the opportunities given to you."


    The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of Elijah''s words hanging over the table. After addressing Liam first and hearing his reluctance to govern a barony, it seemed Elijah''s temper had only increased. His sharp inquiries grew more biting, his patience thinner with each son he addressed. Liam''s unwillingness to embrace the responsibility had clearly struck a nerve, setting a tone of rising tension for the rest of the meal.


    Elijah''s sharp inquiries had momentarily diverted his attention, but as the meal continued, his focus returned to Liam. He sat in silence for a while, his fork moving absently through his food.


    "Liam," he said, his tone quieter but no less firm. "You should think more seriously about running the barony. It''s not just a responsibility ¡ª it''s an opportunity. You would learn a great deal about leadership, about the empire itself. It''s time you started preparing for the future."


    Liam hesitated but kept his expression neutral. "I understand, Father. I''ll think about it," he said simply, nodding once.


    Elijah studied him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. But it was clear his mind was elsewhere. He exhaled deeply, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. The room fell silent as the king stood, the weight of his presence stilling all conversation.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "I have matters to attend to," he said abruptly, his voice flat. Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the dining hall, his cloak sweeping behind him.


    As soon as he exited, Elijah called for Edwin. Edwin appeared promptly, bowing deeply as he approached.


    "Follow me," Elijah said curtly, leading Edwin to a private study down the hall.


    The room grew livelier after King Elijah''s departure, though the weight of his words still lingered. The royal children resumed their meals, speaking in hushed tones. Eventually, Prince Adrian, the eldest, set down his goblet and fixed his gaze on Liam.


    "What are you doing, Liam?" Adrian asked, his voice calm but laced with disappointment. "Do you realize how unusual it is to refuse a barony? Father already has doubts, and you''re making things worse for yourself."


    Liam glanced up from his plate, his calm exterior masking the turmoil inside. Before he could respond, Malcolm, the fifth prince, cut in.


    "Adrian, let him be. "


    Adrian gave Malcolm a pointed look. "This isn''t even about being ready, Malcolm. It''s about responsibility. He''s thirteen now; Father expects him to step up."


    From further down the table, Third Prince Edgar, known for his sharp tongue, chimed in with a smirk. "Honestly, it was a good call. If Liam isn''t up to the task, why embarrass himself trying to run a barony? Better to leave it to those of us who can handle it."


    Sixth Prince Victor chuckled, adding, "At least it''s not another failed project. Better safe than sorry, right?"


    The Seventh Prince, Callan, leaned back in his chair, his tone light but needling. "Don''t get worked up, Adrian. Not everyone''s cut out for leadership."


    Adrian''s expression darkened, his voice cold and cutting. "You should keep your opinions to yourself. Liam is my brother, and this is my family''s matter, not yours."


    The table fell silent as Adrian''s words hung heavily in the air. Before anyone could respond, Queen Isabella cleared her throat, her sharp gaze falling on Adrian.


    "Adrian," she said, her tone firm but controlled. "Is this how you speak to your brothers? You''re the eldest; I expect better from you. Apologize at once."


    Adrian stiffened, but he inclined his head slightly. "I am sorry," he said evenly.


    Liam, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke. "It''s fine, Adrian," he said softly, his tone neutral but resolute. "The truth is, I really am not fit to run a barony. I have no experience, no breakthrough in the Adept realm , and I don''t want to fail Father''s expectations more than I already have."


    He paused, glancing around the table before continuing. "I wish to learn first. To study and grow ¡ª perhaps not in the ways all of you have ¡ª but in ways that could help the empire. The library holds knowledge that could be invaluable, especially in arcane matters. Maybe one day, I''ll be able to contribute something meaningful."


    The room fell silent again, the weight of Liam''s words settling over the gathered royals. Some exchanged uncertain glances, while others avoided his gaze entirely. Queen Isabella studied him carefully, her expression softening as she reached for her goblet.


    "Liam," she said quietly, "do not think you have failed anyone. The path you choose is your own, but remember ¡ª every choice carries its own responsibilities. Be sure you are ready to face them."


    Liam nodded, grateful for her words, but the lingering tension in the room made it clear that his decision would not be so easily accepted.


    The meal concluded with a subdued atmosphere, the earlier tension still lingering among the royal children. One by one, they rose from their seats, offering polite bows or murmured goodbyes to Queen Isabella before departing.


    As Liam prepared to leave, Adrian, Cassandra, and Malcolm approached him. They gestured for him to step aside, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. The group moved to a quieter corner of the dining hall, their voices low as they engaged in an earnest discussion with Liam.


    After a few minutes, Liam nodded at them, offering a faint smile, though his demeanor remained reserved. The three siblings eventually parted ways, leaving him standing alone in the now-empty dining hall.


    Liam straightened his tunic and made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the palace. He stopped in front of the heavy oak doors of King Elijah''s study, his heart beating steadily as he stood in silence, waiting.


    He clasped his hands behind his back, bracing himself for the inevitable conversation.


    The doors creaked open, and Edwin emerged, his expression calm as ever. He paused upon seeing Liam and gave a slight bow.


    "Master Liam," Edwin said smoothly, "His Majesty has been waiting for you."


    Liam nodded, straightened his posture, and stepped inside as Edwin quietly closed the doors behind him.


    The king stood by the large window, his back to the door, his hands clasped behind him.


    "Father," Liam began, his voice steady though quiet, "I''ve come to speak with you. I truly want to focus on learning."


    Elijah turned, he raised a hand to interrupt, his tone sharp yet restrained. "Liam, enough. We can discuss this in a month. Perhaps time will give you clarity."


    But Liam didn''t falter. He took a step forward, his resolve firm. "Father, my answer won''t change. I''ve already thought about this carefully. I know what I want to do, and it''s not running a barony. I want to dedicate myself to studying ¡ª truly studying. The knowledge I gain could serve the empire in ways no barony ever could."


    For a long moment, Elijah said nothing, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension, as he studied his son. Finally, he exhaled deeply, the faintest hint of reluctance flickering across his features.


    "Very well," Elijah said, his voice low but resolute. "If this is the path you''ve chosen, I won''t force you to govern. But you must prove that your studies are not a waste. The empire needs results, Liam, not idle pursuits."


    He moved to the large desk at the center of the room, pulling open a drawer. From it, he retrieved a small, ornately carved wooden box. Opening it, he removed a golden pass, engraved with the royal seal of Ironhelm and intricate arcane symbols.


    "This," Elijah said, holding the pass out to Liam, "grants you access to the restricted sections of the royal library. Use it wisely. Within those walls lies knowledge not meant for the careless or unworthy."


    Liam stepped forward, his eyes widening as he carefully took the pass. "Thank you, Father," he said, bowing his head deeply.


    Elijah''s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, his expression softening just slightly. "Don''t squander this opportunity, Liam. If you wish to devote yourself to learning, then do so with purpose. Show me that your choice was the right one."


    "I will, Father," Liam replied, his voice resolute.


    With a curt nod, Elijah turned back toward the window, signaling the end of their conversation. Liam quietly left the study, clutching the pass tightly in his hand, the weight of his father''s words ¡ª and expectations ¡ª heavy on his shoulders.


    As Liam stepped out of the study, the golden pass , a single thought echoed in his mind:


    This is it. No more hesitation, no more doubt. If I want to prove that my choice matters, I have to show resolve now. Father may have given his reluctant approval, but I know he still questions me. I can''t afford to fail¡ªnot with this chance.

 Royal House of Orlean - III

    The soft hum of morning activity filled the imperial palace. Adrian, Cassandra, and Malcolm walked briskly through the east wing corridors. Outside Liam''s quarters, they found Edwin, standing as composed as ever.


    "Edwin," Cassandra began, her brow furrowed in concern. "Where''s Liam?"


    "We need to have a word with him," Adrian added, his tone firm and impatient.


    Malcolm, standing slightly behind, crossed his arms. "I''ll bet he''s still asleep," he muttered.


    Edwin''s face remained impassive as he gestured toward the closed door. "Master Liam is currently ¡ª "


    "I''ll talk some sense into him," Adrian interrupted, determination flashing in his eyes. "We''re all leaving the imperial palace today. He needs to accept a barony."


    Malcolm stepped forward, placing a hand on Adrian''s shoulder. "He''s not a child anymore, Adrian. Maybe let him handle it his way."


    Adrian shrugged off the hand, his eyes narrowing. "And if you tried to pull the same thing, I''d be there talking sense into you too."


    "Stop it, both of you," Cassandra interjected, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern. "This isn''t helping."


    Before they could continue their argument, Edwin raised a hand to signal silence. "Master Liam is not in his room," he said calmly.


    "What?" Cassandra exclaimed.


    "Then where is he?" Malcolm asked, his brows knitting together.


    As if on cue, a voice called from behind them. "Here."


    They turned in unison to see Liam approaching, his steps sluggish and his appearance disheveled. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes.


    "Liam!" Cassandra rushed to him. "Where were ¡ª uh, what happened to you?"


    Adrian and Malcolm exchanged curious glances before looking back at their younger brother.


    "I was at the Arcanum," Liam mumbled, his words slurring slightly as if he were barely awake. "In the restricted section."


    Adrian scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right."


    "It''s the truth," Liam said, stifling a yawn.


    Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "The restricted section? You do know it''s restricted for a reason, right?"


    Liam gave him a tired look, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate golden pass. "Well, why should I care? I can walk there right now if I want."


    The siblings stared at the pass in stunned silence.


    "Anyway," Liam continued, rubbing his eyes, "I''m really sleepy right now. Goodnight."


    "Goodnight?" Malcolm repeated incredulously. "It''s breakfast time!"


    But Liam had already shuffled into his room, leaving the others standing there, dumbfounded. Edwin quietly closed the door behind him.


    Adrian, Malcolm, and Cassandra exchanged bewildered looks before rushing to the door.


    "Edwin, open it," Adrian demanded.


    Edwin stood firm, his expression unwavering. "Master Liam has requested to rest. I suggest¡ª"


    "Edwin," Cassandra pleaded, "just ask him. Surely he wouldn''t keep us out here."


    With a sigh, Edwin knocked softly on the door. "Master Liam, may I enter?"


    From inside came a muffled, "Yeah, whatever," followed by a faint yawn.


    Edwin pushed the door open, stepping aside to let the siblings in.


    Inside, Liam was already sprawled across his bed, one arm thrown over his face to block out the light. The golden pass glinted on his bedside table, a silent proof to his earlier claim.


    "Liam," Adrian began, stepping forward.


    "Yes, brother?" Liam replied, his voice muffled but steady, his arm still draped over his face.


    Adrian hesitated, trying to shake off the disbelief of Liam holding a pass to the restricted section. "I want you to accept a barony," he finally said, his tone firm but measured.


    Cassandra stepped closer, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "Liam, Adrian is right. It would be beneficial for you. A barony is an excellent start for someone your age."


    Before Liam could respond, Malcolm interjected, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Hold on. How in the world did you get that pass?"


    Liam sighed audibly and, with a lazy wave of Telekinesis. Several windows creaked shut, and the curtains drew together, leaving only one open to let in a faint streak of light. He let his arm fall to his side, still sprawled across the bed, and replied sluggishly, "Brother, I''m not going to accept a barony ¡ª and that''s how I got the pass."


    Adrian blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean you''re not accepting a barony? And how is that related to the pass?"


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    Liam sat up slowly, his eyes still closed as if the effort of answering was too much. "I visited Father last night," he began, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "I told him I wasn''t going to change my mind. And as acceptance of my decision, he gave me the pass to the restricted section."


    Reaching for the golden pass on his bedside table, Liam held it for a moment before clutching it close to his chest. He lay back down, pulling the edge of his shirt over it like a makeshift blanket.


    "You''ll all get yours when Brother Adrian becomes king," he continued, his voice clear like stating a fact. "No access until coronation ¡ª I just found out last night."


    "Wait, what? Then how come you ¡ª " Cassandra began, her voice tinged with confusion.


    Liam yawned, cutting her off. "Yeah, sister, only six siblings have one ¡ª those who have no right to the throne."


    The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his statement sinking in.


    Cassandra stepped forward. "Liam, are you sure you want to do this? You could learn so much about the kingdom. No golden pass can teach you what real leadership will."


    Adrian crossed his arms. "She''s right. I''ll talk to Father about this. You can start from today, and you''ve got eight years to grow into it."


    But Liam only shook his head, his voice resolute despite his sleepy tone. "No, brother. I''ve made my resolve. Now I ask you to respect it."


    He paused, a faint trace of frustration creeping into his voice. "I''m already thirteen and still a Ninth Blaze Initiate. I have no use for a barony when I can barely get my magic under control."


    The siblings exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond. Liam, however, seemed content to let the conversation end there. He shifted slightly under the covers, his breathing slowing as he began to drift off.


    Adrian opened his mouth to say something but stopped, shaking his head. Cassandra gently touched his arm, and Malcolm gave a small shrug.


    "Let him sleep," Cassandra whispered, her voice laced with both concern and resignation.


    Liam stirred slightly, opening one eye to glance toward the door. "Edwin," he called softly.


    The butler, who had been standing quietly by the side, approached promptly. "Yes, Master Liam?"


    "I''m sorry," Liam said, his voice low but sincere. "I know I said I''d dine with everyone from last night, but I''ll miss today as well. Please inform the kitchen."


    "Of course, Master Liam," Edwin replied with a small bow.


    Liam hesitated for a moment before asking, "When does Father leave?"


    "In an hour, Master Liam," Edwin said.


    Liam nodded sluggishly. "Thanks, Edwin." Without another word, he curtained the remaining light, he sank deeper into the bed, his breathing already evening out as sleep reclaimed him.


    Edwin turned to the remaining siblings and inclined his head. Silently, they all left the room, the door closing softly behind them.


    Outside the doors, Adrian sighed. "If that''s what he wishes¡­"


    Cassandra placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Now you''ve got to work hard, Adrian. Liam''s counting on you to become the next king. He''s made his choice, and he trusts you."


    Malcolm smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Yeah, Adrian. I''m just here for the experience. If you''re not the king, who''s going to have my back when I need a little chump change from the royal treasury?"


    Adrian''s expression darkened as he turned to Malcolm, delivering a light but firm slap to the back of his younger brother''s head. "Idiot. Stop your silly bets and get serious."


    Malcolm rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Come on, it''s just a joke¡­"


    Adrian shook his head, his tone stern. "Do I look like I care whether I become king or not? Only the rightful heir will sit on the throne. I don''t mind who it is, but I''ll say this much¡ªI certainly don''t pray for a house change."


    Cassandra smiled softly, watching the exchange. Despite their bickering.


    "Well," she said, "let''s make sure everything is ready before Father departs. Liam''s made his decision. It''s up to us now."


    Adrian nodded, his resolve firm. "Let''s go."


    Inside Liam''s room, the golden pass lay clutched to his chest as his slow, rhythmic breathing filled the still air. Though asleep, his senses stirred faintly, detecting a soft hum of mana swirling nearby. Unlike before, when such sensations brought on piercing headaches, this time it felt soothing¡ªlike a river flowing in harmony with his body.


    As he drifted deeper into sleep, his mind slipped into a dream. He found himself atop a windswept mountaintop, where the skies were clear above. Before him stood Graham, older and more weathered than in Liam''s earlier dreams. His presence carried quiet confidence.


    A disembodied voice, deep and laced with arrogance, echoed across the mountaintop.


    "You? A better mage, sure. But a swordsman? Dream on."


    Graham didn''t flinch, his expression calm as he turned slightly toward the voice. "You''re simply too arrogant," he replied evenly.


    The voice chuckled, its tone mocking. "Arrogant? Or realistic? You may have mastered mana, but the blade requires something beyond your reach."


    "Is that what you think?" Graham asked, his tone sharp. "The sword is no less an extension of one''s will than magic. I''ve spent decades refining my craft."


    "And yet you think you can match me? Let alone surpass me? A swordsman of my caliber doesn''t need the likes of you to ''enhance'' anything."


    Graham sighed, shaking his head. "You refuse to see the bigger picture. I''m not here to replace you¡ªI''m here to make us stronger, together. I can hone your swordsmanship to levels even you can''t imagine."


    The voice sneered. "Strong words. But words alone don''t make a warrior."


    "Then how can I prove it to you?" Graham asked, his gaze steady.


    The voice fell silent for a moment, as though considering. Then, it replied with a hint of amusement. "How about this ¡ª defend a strike from me. With a sword."


    Graham raised an eyebrow. "That''s it?"


    "That''s it," the voice said, its tone dripping with confidence.


    After a brief pause, Graham nodded. "Fine."


    The voice let out a haughty laugh. "You''ve got to be kidding me. You? Defend against me? This will be over before it starts."


    A sword materialized from one of the voice''s many sheaths, spinning through the air before landing at Graham''s feet. "On the count of three," the voice declared.


    Graham bent down to pick up the blade but raised a hand. "Wait."


    "Now what?" the voice snapped impatiently. "Scared already?"


    "No," Graham said calmly, inspecting the sword. "But let''s make this fair. We''re in the same realm, and I''ll not be using any artifacts. Agreed?"


    The voice growled, its arrogance flaring into irritation. "You ¡ª I don''t need to lower myself to ¡ª ON THE COUNT OF THREE!"


    Graham smirked, taking a firm stance with the blade in hand.


    "One¡­ two¡­ three!"


    The voice moved with blinding speed, its sword flashing through the air with a ferocious strike. But Graham''s blade met it in time, deflecting the attack with a resounding clash of steel.


    The voice recoiled slightly, its tone rising in anger. "Hmph. Beginner''s luck!" It struck again, its blade a blur of rage. But this time, Graham stepped into the attack, cleaving through the weapon with a single, precise motion.


    The shattered blade flew from the voice''s grip as it stumbled back. Shock filled its tone as it asked, "How?"


    Graham smiled faintly, resting his sword against his shoulder. "I know you''re one of the greatest swordsmen in existence. But with me by your side, you''ll become the greatest swordsman."


    The voice bristled. "I''m asking you a question!"


    Graham chuckled, lowering the blade. "Oh, that? Mana allows you to bend the rules of nature. But have you ever wondered what those rules truly are? What are the forces that nature has set in to shape the world around us?"


    The voice hesitated, its silence betraying its uncertainty.


    "What if, instead of challenging nature ¡ª the very heavens that gave birth to us ¡ª we Ascendants learned to live in harmony with it?" Graham''s gaze softened as he stepped forward. "That''s the secret. Not defiance, but unity."


    The voice remained quiet, the weight of Graham''s words settling like the stillness after a storm. In Liam''s dream, the mountaintop faded into nothingness, leaving only the echoes of Graham''s wisdom reverberating in his mind.

 The Fallen Genius - I

    Liam awoke in the late afternoon. With a mere thought, he used his Telekinesis to open the windows and draw back the curtains. The sun still hovered above the horizon. Realizing he''d missed both breakfast and lunch, he rose from his bed just he called for Edwin.


    "Good evening, Master Liam," Edwin greeted. "Shall I prepare a meal for you?"


    "No need for a full meal," Liam replied, stretching. "Some fruits will suffice."


    As Edwin departed to fulfill the request, Liam changed into fresh attire, preparing for his visit to the arcanum.


    As Liam walked through the corridor, an apple in hand, he took a bite and overheard the whispers around him.


    "Did you hear? Prince Liam has given up his claim to the throne."


    "I never thought he''d actually abdicate."


    "What does this mean for his future in the kingdom?"


    "Hey shush... he''ll hear you ¡ª you know."


    Ignoring the murmurs, Liam approached Harold - Archivist and Keeper of the Records. He greeted him, "Good evening."


    "Good evening, Prince Liam," Harold replied.


    Liam inquired, "What''s the best material we have on the laws of nature?"


    "The laws of nature, Prince Liam?" Harold asked, seeking clarification.


    "Yes," Liam confirmed.


    "Uh¡­ we have ''Principles of Natural Philosophy'' by Sir Cedric Moryworth," Harold suggested. "It''s the best one I''ve read on the subject."


    "That''s located in the ground floor, hall of fundamentals, right?" Liam asked.


    "Yes, Prince Liam," Harold confirmed.


    Liam proceeded to the hall to find the book.


    He entered the Hall of Fundamentals, scanning the shelves with practiced ease. Row after row of books lined the grand chamber, yet no trace of Principles of Natural Philosophy by Sir Cedric Moryworth could be found. Frustration flickered across his face as he combed through the index, confirming its absence.


    He paused, deep in thought. "Could it be in the restricted section?" he muttered to himself.


    Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a golden pass, its surface gleaming faintly in the light. With a determined stride, Liam moved to a secluded part of the hall where plain stone walls enclosed the space. It seemed impenetrable ¡ª until he held up the pass.


    As the golden pass caught the light, the solid wall before him shimmered and dissolved like smoke blown away by the wind. In its place appeared a massive chamber, far grander than the Hall of Fundamentals itself. Towering shelves brimming with books stretched high and wide, their sheer scale a testament to the secrets they held.


    Above the arched entrance to the chamber hung an ornate sign: Hall of Fundamentals ¨C Restricted Section.


    Liam''s eyes gleamed with anticipation as he stepped forward.


    Liam moved purposefully through the towering shelves of the restricted section, his eyes scanning the spines of books that seemed untouched by time. Finally, nestled between two unassuming tomes, he spotted it: Principles of Natural Philosophy by Sir Cedric Moryworth.


    The book was bound in deep emerald leather, its spine adorned with golden filigree that iluuminated under the soft glow of the magical lanterns. The front cover bore an embossed depiction of a tree whose roots intertwined with stars above ¡ª a symbol of the interconnectedness of life and nature.


    Opening the book, Liam found a quote etched in elegant script:


    "To seek understanding is to touch the divine, for the laws of nature are the whispers of creation itself."


    He closed the book carefully, and placed it on a nearby table. Wandering through the section, he marveled at the magnitude of the collection. The shelves stretched far beyond what he had imagined, lined with books whose titles promised mysteries beyond comprehension.


    It still baffled him how the arcanum, already immense from within, concealed ten entire floors¡ªten! From the outside, it appeared to be a three-story building, but that too was a masterful illusion. Each floor contained a restricted section like this one, its secrets reserved for only the most privileged.


    "How much wealth does the kingdom have to maintain this?" Liam muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. As he wandered further, the enormity of the arcanum began to overwhelm him. He paused mid-step and sighed.


    "Forget it," he told himself. "It''s not like the pass is going anywhere. I''ll explore later."


    Returning to the restricted section''s sitting area, Liam found it entirely deserted. Yesterday, he had tried to study in the public area, but the constant hum of activity had made it nearly impossible to concentrate. He remembered asking Harold about the restricted section, watching the keeper''s attempt to maintain composure when he spotted the golden pass in Liam''s hand.


    Harold had explained its significance in a measured tone but couldn''t quite hide his awe. "The restricted sections," he had said, "just use the pass¡­ well, face the pass towards the wall at the end of the floor, Prince Liam. That will grant you access."


    Looking around now, Liam understood what Harold meant. Not a single person had crossed his path since he''d entered. It seemed clear that access to this place was a privilege granted to an elite few¡ªif anyone else at all.


    For now, though, the solitude was exactly what Liam needed. He settled into a plush armchair, opened the book, and began to read.


    As Liam delved into the pages of Principles of Natural Philosophy, his mind absorbed a steady stream of fascinating concepts, each more intriguing than the last. He read about the way objects in the land of Nvaar were drawn toward one another, much like how the sun was believed to revolve around the Earth in ancient times. The author explained this attraction, describing it as a force, a fundamental part of the natural order, he called it Nvaergon.


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    The book offered other little bits of wisdom, each excerpt adding a piece to the puzzle. He read about the patterns of rain, how they were not random but followed an intricate cycle governed by the unseen forces of the land. The sections on lightning were equally captivating, detailing how it was not simply a phenomenon of electricity but the result of a great, unseen energy at work.


    He continued reading, fascinated by how the author described the symbiosis between plants and the air around them. "The plant exhales air, and we, in turn, breathe it in," it said, suggesting an unseen exchange between all living things. The more Liam read, the more he realized that this exchange wasn''t limited to just plants and animals. The author proposed that, like plants, Nvaar itself must have roots, hidden deep within its landscape, drawing mana from the earth and breathing it into the world around them.


    "It''s a matter of finding where it begins," the author mused. This revelation struck Liam like a spark, the idea that there might be a source of life-force, a hidden root, somewhere in the land of Nvaar.


    As he absorbed these ideas, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. He read on, eager to learn more, until the distant chime of the clock tower echoed through the restricted section. It rang thirteen times, signaling that only one hour remained before dinner.


    Liam hesitated for a moment, considering whether to continue reading, but the sound of approaching footsteps broke his concentration. Someone was in the restricted section?


    To his surprise, Cecily appeared, rushing toward him. "Brother!" she called out, her voice echoing in the quiet chamber.


    Liam, slightly shocked, watched her pass by before recovering and asking, "Shush, Cecily. This is the Arcanum."


    She glanced back, grinning mischievously. "There''s nobody else here, though."


    "What are you doing here?" he asked, closing the book as she came to his side.


    "What are you doing?" she countered, eyeing the book in his hands.


    Liam sighed. "Reading, obviously."


    "Why weren''t you at breakfast or lunch? Father left for the borders this morning," she said.


    "I was sleeping," he admitted with a shrug.


    She peered at the book in his hand. "What''s this?"


    He held it out for her to see. "Principles of Natural Philosophy."


    Cecily took a glance, flipping through its pages. "No pictures? Boring!"


    Liam chuckled. "What do you want to learn then? We''ve got one more hour before dinner."


    "Let''s go upstairs to the Mana Arts section," Cecily suggested excitedly. "It''s on the third floor. Way more exciting than this!" she spoke with here hand streching to represent how exciting it will be.


    "Sure," Liam replied, standing up. He turned back toward the Hall of Fundamentals, intending to leave the restricted section.


    Cecily raised a brow. "Where are you going?"


    "Upstairs," Liam said, gesturing toward the main exit.


    She shook her head. "We can get there from here too."


    Liam looked at her skeptically. "How?"


    With a sly smile, Cecily took his hand and whispered to her pass, "Mana Arts."


    A library ladder descended from the cloudy roof above, piercing through the illusion. Cecily climbed up with ease, turning to tease, "Don''t fall, brother!"


    Liam stared in astonishment before following, adding one more piece of information about the arcanum to his growing mental notes.


    As they ascended, he asked, "Has everyone else left?"


    Cecily replied casually, "Not me. Queen Mother Isabella, Queen Mother Seraphina, and Mother are still here."


    Liam winced at the thought. With his brothers off at the barony and his sisters studying at the royal institute, the awkwardness of being among the queens lingered in his mind.


    Reaching the cloudy roof, Liam hesitated as he looked down at the floor below. The intrusive thought of falling momentarily shook him, but he pressed forward, piercing through the clouds and entering the next floor.


    To his surprise, the stairs didn''t continue further. He stopped, scanning the vast room. Cecily was already ahead, standing before a massive shelf with her back to him, deep in thought as she debated which book to choose.


    Liam smirked, speaking to himself, "Let me guess¡­ we''ve reached the third floor."


    As Liam followed Cecily into the new floor, his eyes caught a sign near the entrance: Mana Arts - Restricted Section. The words were carved into a polished obsidian plaque, shimmering faintly with enchantment.


    "What will you be reading, Cecily?" Liam asked as they approached the towering shelves.


    She grinned, her small hands clasped together in excitement. "I want to temper my mana heart. I''m so close to reaching half-step Apprentice!"


    "Half-step Apprentice, huh? That''s impressive. What''s your plan?"


    "Mother told me to read¡­ what was it? Oh!" She snapped her fingers. "Stormcaller''s Guide: Foundations of Lightning Magic. It''s the best book to learn lightning spells." Her tone was brimming with confidence. "If I master lightning magic, I''ll be a dual elementalist. That will help me temper my mana heart even faster."


    Liam chuckled. "Well then, sister, if you figure it out, you''ll have to protect me."


    Cecily''s mischievous grin widened. "Don''t worry, brother. As long as you keep giving me gifts, nobody in Ironhelm will dare touch you."


    Liam laughed heartily, watching her enthusiasm. Despite her young age, Cecily''s determination was remarkable. She was only seven and already pushing toward realms that others took years to achieve. Instead of feeling jealous, Liam felt genuine pride and happiness for her.


    "Do you think you can recommend a book for me, little sister? Something to temper my mana heart?"


    Cecily tapped her chin thoughtfully before saying, "Start with Mana Heart for the Initiate. That''s what I was told to read first. It''ll help you."


    She scampered off to fetch the book, returning quickly and handing it to him with a triumphant smile. Together, they found a quiet spot in the sitting area. As they settled in, Cecily immediately immersed herself in her own book, her small frame almost dwarfed by the large tome. Liam smiled as he watched her. She truly was talented, and he couldn''t help but admire her focus.


    Turning his attention to his own book, Liam began reading. One passage stood out to him:


    "The mana heart is a vessel of crimson flame, the core of one''s magical potential. To temper it, one must concentrate deeply, imagining the breath of life coursing through their body. This breath carries mana ¡ª fuel for the flame. Visualize the flame growing brighter, beating with the rhythm of your heart. With each pulse, mana flows through your veins, rushing like a river with every beat. Fuel the flame, let it burn, and allow the mana to synchronize with the cadence of your being."


    Another excerpt explained the process further:


    "The mana heart thrives on repetition and focus. Each cycle of fueling the flame strengthens its brilliance. Do not fear the intensity of the pulse, for it is the very essence of your life-force. The mana heart is both delicate and powerful ¡ª a perfect balance. Through practice, its brilliance will grow, and so too will your control over it."


    Liam closed his eyes and followed the instructions, focusing on the faint warmth in his chest. Slowly, he visualized the crimson flame flickering within, stoking it with each imagined breath. As the flame grew brighter, he felt a pulse in his veins, the mana flowing rhythmically with his heartbeat. He repeated the process, falling into a trance as he fueled the flame again and again.


    Time seemed to blur. Lost in the repetition, Liam''s thoughts wandered deeper into the mana heart. Suddenly, something changed. He felt an unfamiliar brilliance¡ªa surge of energy¡ªand saw his crimson flame glow brighter than ever before. This was no ordinary improvement; it wasn''t a gradual change over the years. It was immediate, vivid, and almost overwhelming.


    What is this? Am I dreaming? he thought, shocked by the crimson intensity of the light within his mana heart.


    "Brother¡­ Brother¡­ Brother!" Cecily''s voice broke through his trance. She was shaking his shoulder.


    Liam blinked and turned to her, still disoriented. "What?"


    Cecily exhaled sharply, relieved. "Brother, it''s time for dinner. The clock tower just rang the fourteenth time. Why weren''t you listening?"


    Liam shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Nothing¡­ anyway, let''s leave."


    Cecily called for the Hall of Fundamentals through her pass. The library ladder descended from the ceiling, they climbed upstairs but it lead them back down. Liam followed her silently, but his thoughts were far from the physical world.


    All he could think about was the brilliance of his mana flame ¡ª the purest light he had ever seen.

 The Fallen Genius - II

    As Liam and Cecily walked through the grand corridors of the palace toward the dining hall, they stopped briefly at the doors of the arcanum. Cecily''s maid was waiting for her there, a young woman dressed in the pristine royal livery.


    "Miss Cecily, would you like me to accompany you further?" the maid asked, her tone deferential but curious.


    Cecily waved a hand dismissively. "That won''t be necessary, Chloe. We''re just heading to the dining hall." Her words were polite, but there was an unmistakable undertone of dismissal. She didn''t outright ask her maid to keep her distance, but her phrasing made it clear that she preferred walking with Liam without anyone else hovering nearby.


    Chloe nodded, bowing slightly before stepping aside. Liam caught the subtle tension but chose to ignore it, letting Cecily take the lead as they continued down the dimly lit corridor.


    The night had fully descended upon the imperial palace, but its splendor shone even brighter in the darkness. The moonlight filtered through towering stained-glass windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished marble floors. Imperial guards stood at attention at every turn. Their watchful eyes scanned every corridor, and their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, ever vigilant.


    As they neared the dining hall, Liam and Cecily encountered Butler Edwin.


    "Master Liam, Princess Cecily," Edwin greeted, bowing respectfully. "I trust you''ve had a productive day."


    Liam gave a small nod. "More or less."


    Edwin fell into step beside Liam, quietly escorting him the rest of the way. Cecily walked slightly ahead, humming a cheerful tune as they approached the large double doors of the dining hall.


    Inside the dining hall, the atmosphere was quiet but regal. The long, ornately carved table was set with gleaming silverware and fine porcelain. Only five people were present: Queen Isabella, Queen Seraphina, and Queen Elara, seated at one end of the table. Cecily took her place beside Queen Elara, while Liam was guided to his seat across from her by Edwin.


    The queens exchanged polite greetings with their children, their composed expressions revealing little of their thoughts. A team of servants entered with the first course, setting down plates with practiced precision.


    The clinking of silverware against porcelain filled the room, a soft undercurrent to the regal silence that hung in the air. Liam focused on his plate, eating methodically, though his thoughts wandered.


    It was Queen Isabella who broke the silence first. She turned her gaze toward Liam, her tone gentle but inquisitive. "Liam, I hear you''ve been spending much of your time in the Arcanum. I trust you''ve found what you were seeking?"


    Liam met her gaze briefly and gave a small nod. "I''ve been exploring. There''s always something new to learn."


    Queen Seraphina, seated beside Isabella, spoke next, her voice carrying a subtle warmth. "It''s admirable that you''ve chosen to immerse yourself in study, Liam. But tell me ¡ª do you feel relieved now that you''ve relinquished your claim to the throne?"


    The question lingered in the air, but there was no malice in her tone, only curiosity. Liam set his fork down, meeting her gaze. "I do, Queen Mother. I believe it''s better this way ¡ª for the kingdom and for myself."


    Queen Elara, who had been silent until now, gave a soft, approving smile. "You''ve always been wise beyond your years, Liam. It takes strength to know where your path lies and to walk it without hesitation."


    Cecily, who had been quietly eating beside Queen Elara, chimed in with a mischievous grin. "Well, I think Brother just wants more time to read books."


    The queens chuckled softly at her remark, their laughter lightening the air.


    Queen Isabella reached across the table, her hand resting delicately on the edge. "Your decision was never a disappointment to us, Liam. We''ve always been proud of you ¡ª for your strength, your intelligence, and your heart. That hasn''t changed."


    Liam offered a small smile, the weight of their understanding lifting some of the unease he had carried. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice steady but quiet.


    The queens exchanged knowing looks, their maternal pride evident even without words. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, leaving Liam to reflect silently.


    Liam''s mind wandering back to the events of the day. The brilliance of his mana flame flickered in his thoughts, a mystery he couldn''t wait to explore further. But for now, he simply ate, allowing the quiet rhythm of the evening meal to settle over him.


    As Liam finished his dinner, he placed his utensils neatly on the plate and stood up. Cecily, still savoring her dessert, glanced up at him with a curious look.


    "Where are you going, brother?" she asked, tilting her head.


    "I''m going to sleep," Liam replied curtly, adjusting his chair.


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    "Again?" she asked incredulously. "You''ve been sleeping so much lately."


    "Yes," he said simply, not offering any further explanation.


    Before anyone could protest or comment further, Liam walked out of the dining hall. Edwin, ever attentive, stepped forward to accompany him, but Liam raised a hand. "It''s fine, Edwin. I''ll manage."


    Edwin hesitated but ultimately bowed. "As you wish, Master Liam."


    Liam strode purposefully to his chambers, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him without ceremony. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Without waiting, he used his Telekinesis to close the windows. He laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling.


    The words of the book echoed in his mind once more: The mana heart is a vessel of crimson flame¡­ fuel the flame, let it burn, and allow the mana to synchronize with the cadence of your being.


    He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Gradually, the steady rhythm of his heart grew louder in his mind, and soon, he saw it again¡ªhis mana heart. It burned brightly, the crimson flame flickering with a renewed intensity.


    "This isn''t a dream," Liam murmured to himself, watching the flame. Its brilliance had undeniably grown since his earlier attempt. He steadied his breathing and began channeling mana toward the flame.


    Lying still in his bed, he repeated the process, cycling mana through his heart, fueling the flame. Each breath seemed to add fuel to the fire, making it brighter and stronger. Then, it happened.


    The mana in the air around him shifted. He could feel it rushing toward his body, drawn in by the growing strength of his mana heart. The flame flickered violently, as if it were on the verge of a turbulent change.


    Liam didn''t hesitate. He concentrated, channeling even more mana to the flame, determined to see it through. The flickering subsided, and the flame roared to life, brighter and more intense than ever. His mana heart pulsated, each beat radiating energy through his body.


    The vessels surrounding the heart seemed to glow, their crimson hue deepening with each pulse. He could feel the mana coursing through his veins, potent and alive. The intensity grew until, finally, it happened ¡ª the flame solidified.


    The mana flame now burned with a steady, radiant glow. The vessels surrounding the heart pulsed with stability, their color richer and more vibrant. Liam lay there, feeling the power surging through him. He had done it.


    He had tempered his mana heart, advancing to the Dawn of Apprentice realm ¡ª 10th Blaze Initiate. The mana flame within him now shone with the promise of the Apprentice realm, a dawn of new possibilities.


    Liam opened his eyes, his breathing steady but his body tingling with energy.


    He layed motionless in his bed, staring up at the canopy above him. His mana heart still pulsed with newfound vigor, the brightness of his flame settling into a steady radiance. Yet his mind was anything but calm.


    He tried to piece together everything that had led to this moment. What has happened since the rite? he wondered. The memories came rushing back, disjointed yet vivid. He remembered the Rite of Recognition a week ago. The mana of two Archmages had been transferred into him that day, along with the overwhelming force of his father''s Champion-level swordsmanship.


    He had walked away from that rite with knowledge ¡ª forbidden knowledge. He had glimpses of dark magic, fragments of spells that whispered to him even now. The first day was a haze of headaches and sleeplessness, his mind grappling with the flood of information that no child should possess. He began having strange visions. Flashes of insight, of things he shouldn''t know but somehow did.


    For ten long years, he hadn''t broken through a single realm. Despite these gifts, he had stagnated. His mana heart had been locked in place, his flame dim, no matter how hard he tried to temper it. It was maddening, a constant reminder of the expectations he could not meet. And yet, in just one evening, he had shattered that barrier.


    His mind wandered further back, to the very first breakthrough of his life. He had been three years old, far too young by any standard, but he remembered it with startling clarity. It had been in his mother Isabella''s study, surrounded by stacks of books. Even at that age, he had devoured the knowledge within them, his mind far ahead of his peers.


    The court had hailed him as a prodigy, a once-in-a-generation genius. The bright star of the Orlean family, they had called him. But only Liam knew the truth. It hadn''t felt like brilliance; it had felt like strain. Each word, each spell, each piece of knowledge he consumed was a burden, weighing down his young mind. His first breakthrough had come not from inspiration, but from desperation ¡ª a burning need to prove himself worthy of the pedestal he had been placed upon.


    Now, lying in his bed, he couldn''t shake the feeling that tonight was the same. The flame in his mana heart had burned brighter than ever, and the power coursing through him was undeniable.


    His thoughts churned restlessly, returning to the peculiarities of his journey. After his first real breakthrough at the Second Blaze Initiate, the strain had begun. Each subsequent breakthrough felt like an insurmountable mountain ¡ª a grueling trial of endurance rather than a natural progression. Every step forward demanded more than he thought he could give, leaving him exhausted and frustrated.


    And yet now, something had changed. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his chest, a "restriction" he hadn''t realized was there until it was gone. His mana heart pulsed with ease, its flame brighter and more stable than he had ever felt before. No headaches, no agonizing strain, just a fluidity and clarity he hadn''t experienced in years. What is going on?


    For the last ten years, Liam had been haunted by strange memories that surfaced whenever he interacted with mana. They were vivid, almost tangible, yet alien ¡ª knowledge that felt both his own and not. He had told no one of these recollections, fearing what they might mean. Instead, he had endured, moving forward as best he could. Seven minor breakthroughs in ten years. Seven. A pitiful number for someone heralded as a prodigy.


    Now, within just three days, everything had changed. He had felt mana coursing through his veins without the familiar pang of a headache, and he had achieved a breakthrough. Will it happen again? he wondered, his chest tightening with a mix of excitement and fear.


    If the "restriction" truly was gone, did that mean he could ascend realms with the ease he had once dreamed of? Or was this just a fleeting reprieve, an anomaly that would vanish as quickly as it had appeared?


    His mana heart pulsed steadily in response to his thoughts, as if it were silently reassuring him. Liam placed a hand over his chest, feeling the subtle rhythm beneath his skin.


    Whatever this is, I''ll make the most of it, he thought. If I can continue this momentum, maybe¡­ maybe I can finally catch up to the expectations everyone once had of me.


    A faint smile crept onto his face. He felt the faint stirrings of hope. But the questions remained. What had changed? Why now?


    Determined to uncover the truth, Liam closed his eyes, letting his body rest even as his mind churned with possibilities.

 The Fallen Genius - III

    The first clock tower chime of the day echoed faintly through the stillness of the morning as Liam opened the doors of his room. The soft golden light of dawn spilled into the hallway, and he was greeted by Edwin, the royal butler, who was already waiting.


    "Good morning, Prince Liam," Edwin said with a slight bow.


    "Good morning, Edwin," Liam replied, his voice steady, carrying a note of quiet determination.


    "You''re up quite early today, Master Liam. Shall I have something sent to your room before breakfast?"


    Liam shook his head. "No need, Edwin. I have plans to visit the arcanum. Just ensure I''m not disturbed."


    "As you wish, Master Liam," Edwin replied, stepping aside as Liam strode purposefully down the hallway, his excitement building.


    By the time the morning sun fully illuminated the palace, Liam was seated in the restricted section of the third floor in the arcanum. Surrounding him was a small fortress of books, mostly from the Hall of Fundamentals and a few select tomes from the Mana Arts section. His focus was unwavering as he delved into the intricacies of Mana Heart for the Initiate, halfway through the dense text.


    The clock tower chimed a third time, signaling the hour for breakfast. Startled, Liam glanced at the window and realized he had lost track of time. Quickly gathering his thoughts, he left the arcanum and made his way to the dining hall.


    When Liam arrived, the queens and Cecily were already seated, and the meal had begun. He bowed slightly and offered a polite apology. "Forgive me for being late."


    Cecily, ever the sharp observer, smirked. "You woke up, brother?"


    Liam returned her smirk with a faint smile. "Yes, Cecily. Thought it might be time for a change."


    "You don''t look like you just woke up," she teased, narrowing her eyes. "What were you doing?"


    "I was in the arcanum," Liam admitted, his tone casual.


    Her eyes lit up with excitement. "The arcanum? I want to go there too!"


    The queens exchanged approving glances, and Queen Isabella spoke gently. "You''re showing initiative, Liam. It''s good to see you embracing knowledge again."


    Queen Seraphina added, "This journey may not have been what we envisioned for you, but it''s one worth taking."


    Liam inclined his head gratefully at their encouragement. As the meal concluded, Queen Isabella gestured for him to wait. "Liam, stay a moment. I''d like to speak with you."


    In Queen Isabella''s study, the air was warmer, the space filled with personal touches¡ªa small portrait of her children, elegant but understated furniture, and a faint scent of lavender. She embraced Liam tightly, her hands lingering on his shoulders as she studied his face.


    "You''ve broken through," she said, her voice a mixture of shock and pride. "Are you alright?"


    "Yes, Mother," Liam assured her. "A slight headache, but nothing I can''t handle."


    Yet, as the words left his lips, a thought lingered in his mind: Why did I lie?


    Her lips curled into a soft smile. "That''s my boy. A little headache won''t stop you."


    She paused, her tone growing serious. "Liam, are you truly content with stepping away from the race for the throne?"


    Liam met her gaze, his eyes steady. "Even with this breakthrough, I don''t think I''m suited for it, Mother. Competing for the throne is too much. I feel¡­ relieved to be free of the expectations and constant scrutiny of the nobility. The arcanum is enough for me. I want to grow in my own way, without the weight of the crown looming over me."


    Isabella gently caressed his face. "Whatever path you choose, know that I''ll always believe in you. You''re my son, Liam, and nothing will change that."


    Liam nodded, a sense of warmth and comfort filling him. "Thank you, Mother."


    Isabella smiled fondly, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "You know, Liam, when you were just three years old, you were quite the scholarly genius. I remember one day, I found you in my study, surrounded by scrolls and books far too advanced for a child your age. You were reciting passages aloud as if you understood every word."


    She chuckled softly, her voice carrying both pride and a hint of sadness. "Your father and I used to joke that you would grow up to be a great sage instead of a warrior or a king. Even back then, you had a spark of something extraordinary."


    Liam blinked in surprise, though his expression remained calm. "I¡­ don''t remember that," he said, his voice measured. "I was just three, after all."


    But even as he said it, he felt a twinge of guilt. Why did I lie again? The truth was, memories of those days were clear as yesterday his mind¡ªimages of towering books, the feel of parchment beneath his fingers, the words of admiration in his parents'' voices. He didn''t know why he felt compelled to deny it, perhaps to avoid the weight of her expectations or the pressure to live up to that long-lost potential.


    Isabella studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. "Perhaps you''ve forgotten, but it''s a memory I cherish. Even now, I see glimpses of that little boy in you."


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    Liam lowered his gaze, her words settling heavily in his chest. "I''ll try to honor that, Mother," he said, his voice quiet but sincere.


    She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You already do, my son. You already do."


    After leaving the study, Liam returned to the arcanum, where Cecily was already waiting for him near the entrance to the Mana Arts restricted section. She waved eagerly as he approached.


    After leaving the study, Liam returned to the arcanum, where Cecily was already waiting for him near the entrance to the Mana Arts restricted section. She waved eagerly as he approached.


    They soon found themselves seated in the sitting area of the Mana Arts - Restricted Section, surrounded by an aura of focused study. Cecily was deeply engrossed in her book, The Stormcaller''s Guide, trying her best to absorb its teachings. Meanwhile, Liam was flipping through the pages of his own book, his movements quick and rhythmic, as though he was revisiting something he already knew.


    The silence in the sitting area was broken only by the sound of Liam turning pages. Cecily''s brows furrowed, and she finally looked up, annoyance flickering across her face.


    "Brother," she asked, her tone sharp but casual, "are you really reading the book, or just turning pages for fun?"


    Liam chuckled, leaning back slightly. "I''m studying," he replied with a grin. "Really."


    "Are you actually understanding it, or are you just pretending?" Cecily pressed, crossing her arms.


    Liam smiled knowingly. "I''m not trying to memorize it word for word. I''m just reading through. I understand what it''s saying, but I''m not fixating on it."


    "Then how do you plan to remember it for the long term?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "By consolidating it," Liam answered simply.


    "And how would you do that?"


    "By reading it again later and associating its concepts with practice."


    Cecily shrugged. "Yeah, right." She narrowed her eyes. "Did you really understand what it''s saying after just one reading?"


    "Of course," Liam said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Doesn''t everyone?"


    "No," she replied firmly. "Sometimes, I have to ask Mother to explain what the text means."


    Cecily flipped back a few pages in The Stormcaller''s Guide and pointed to a section. "Then tell me ¡ª what does this mean?"


    Liam leaned over and scanned the passage. It described the essence of lightning in vivid, almost poetic terms:


    "Lightning is the voice of the heavens, a sudden spark born of friction between nature''s opposing forces. The air swells with energy unseen, charging the skies until the tension can hold no longer. With a crack of release, the bolt bridges the divide, carrying the wrath of the storm and the light of truth. To harness it is to command the storm''s fury, but beware¡ªits power is wild and unyielding, bound only to those who respect its volatile nature."


    Liam leaned back and began explaining. "This passage is saying that lightning is a manifestation of energy imbalance in nature. When opposing entities ¡ª like positive and negative ¡ª build up in the sky, they create tension. Once that tension exceeds the air''s ability to resist, it discharges as lightning, connecting the two entities. For us, as mana users, it''s about understanding this balance and learning to mimic it with our own mana. The bolt is powerful, but it''s also dangerous and unpredictable, requiring careful control."


    Cecily listened intently, her curiosity piqued. She then rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small orb.


    "What''s that?" Liam asked, intrigued.


    "It''s an artifact, umm. . . an echovault " Cecily replied, holding it up. "I want to record what you''re saying. You explain things well."


    Liam laughed softly. "Alright, record away."


    He continued, breaking down the concepts in a way a seven-year-old could easily grasp. He emphasized focusing on the first steps, ensuring she understood the basics before moving on. Cecily nodded, processing the information with surprising maturity for her age.


    Encouraged by her understanding, she closed her book and placed it aside. "Let me try," she said with determination.


    Liam watched as she focused her mana, extending her hand. To his amazement, a faint spark of lightning manifested in her palm. Her face lit up with excitement, and her eyes widened in awe.


    "You did it!" Liam exclaimed, his tone filled with genuine pride. "You''re really talented, Cecily."


    Grinning, Cecily beamed. "I can''t wait to show Mother!" she said eagerly, gathering her things and rushing out of the section.


    Liam stayed behind, his curiosity drawn to The Stormcaller''s Guide. Picking it up, he began studying the text himself.


    Time passed unnoticed until the clock tower chimed eight times, signaling for the afternoon meal. Closing the book, he decided to leave.


    As he walked, Liam recalled Cecily''s attempt and decided to try the lightning magic himself. Unlike Cecily, who had used a single hand, Liam placed both palms facing each other, focusing his mana between them. Slowly, a stronger, more stable bolt of lightning formed, arching between his hands in a continuous stream. It was unlike Cecily''s fragmented sparks¡ªa single, controlled bolt that pulsed with power.


    However, the effort drained him quickly. Feeling exhaustion creeping in, Liam stopped and leaned against the wall. Closing his eyes, he practiced the mana breathing technique he had learned from Mana Heart for the Initiate. With each slow, deliberate breath, he felt his mana recovering, his strength returning.


    Rejuvenated, Liam continued to the dining hall, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he had just achieved.


    As the dining hall filled with the aroma of a sumptuous lunch, the royal family gathered at the table. Cecily, still glowing from her earlier success, eagerly recounted her achievement. Queen Elara listened intently, her eyes darting between her youngest daughter and Liam as Cecily spoke with excitement about her newfound mastery of lightning sparks.


    Once Cecily finished, Queen Elara turned to Liam with an expression of gratitude. "Liam, thank you for helping Cecily today. She mentioned how clearly you explained the concepts to her. Honestly, it seems you understood and explained it better than I ever could."


    Liam, feeling the weight of her praise, bowed his head slightly. "It was nothing, Mother. Cecily is the talented one. I only relayed what the book said."


    At this, Queen Isabella and Queen Seraphina, who had been listening quietly, exchanged curious glances. Isabella leaned forward, smiling warmly. "What''s this all about?"


    Cecily, unable to hold back, chimed in, "Brother Liam helped me understand lightning magic from The Stormcaller''s Guide! He made it so easy to grasp that I could manifest lightning today!"


    Queen Isabella beamed at the news. "A dual elementalist already! That''s wonderful, Cecily!" She then turned to Liam, her smile softening. "It seems we have you to thank for this, Liam."


    Queen Seraphina added, "Indeed. It''s no small feat to teach someone to comprehend such a complex element. You''ve done well, Liam."


    Liam raised his hands in a humble gesture, shaking his head lightly. "It was all Cecily. Her talent is remarkable. I only pointed her in the right direction."


    Queen Elara, however, didn''t let his modesty go unnoticed. "Don''t belittle yourself, Liam. I overheard the way you explained it, and it wasn''t just simple recitation from a book. You have a gift for making even complex ideas clear. That''s a rare talent."


    Liam paused, meeting Elara''s gaze. Her words resonated with him, though he still felt hesitant to accept the praise fully. "Thank you, Mother. That means a lot to me," he replied quietly.


    As the conversation shifted back to Cecily''s excitement and future potential as a dual elementalist, Liam found himself reflecting on Elara''s words.

 A Hidden Apprentice - I

    The library''s Mana Arts - Restricted Section was shrouded in silence, a solemn stillness that only heightened Liam''s sense of isolation. The tomes surrounding him exuded an almost palpable weight of knowledge. Seated alone in the dimly lit sitting area, Liam''s focus was split between the open volumes on the desk before him.


    Cecily had been far too cheerful earlier, her excitement over her breakthrough echoing in his mind. She didn''t accompany Liam in the library. However, Liam couldn''t share in her lighthearted mood.


    Determined to make progress in mana heart tempering, Liam had brought a large collection of materials to his desk from the both restricted sections. Scrolls, manuscripts, and tomes piled high on the desk in front of him ¡ª each one selected carefully for the final session of studying before dinner. If he couldn''t solve the puzzles immediately, he would drown himself in knowledge until the answers revealed themselves.


    Hours passed as the bell tower chimed.


    His eyes flitted back to the Stormcaller''s Guide and A Mortal Dream. Both books posed riddles he couldn''t yet solve, their contents gnawing at his thoughts.


    He read the passage from A Mortal Dream again, the words sinking into his mind like stones in water:


    "To train an element, one requires the heart of an apprentice. For only when a strong heart of an ascendant begins its journey toward mastery can the essence of an element take root. The heart, a vessel of mana, must first resonate with the chosen element to spark growth. Any attempt to force this resonance prematurely risks calamity."


    Liam frowned. He didn''t understand how this could be possible. Wasn''t his own experience proof otherwise? He had trained an element yesteday. He shifted his attention to The Stormcaller''s Guide, opening to the first chapter where a bold warning was etched in elegant script:


    "Training lightning as a first element to temper the heart is a fool''s dream. Lightning demands swiftness, control, and a foundation forged from the simpler elements. Earth lays the groundwork for stability. Fire ignites the will. Water sharpens fluidity. Ice refines endurance. Only with one of these as a foundation, one can hope to withstand the storms of lightning without shattering the fragile mana heart."


    The words mocked him. He had tempered his mana heart with lightning, and he was still standing. More than that, he had thrived. But he wasn''t even an apprentice. How was this possible?


    The thought crept in unbidden ¡ª was his ability to comprehend mana greater than the legendary figures who had penned these very books? He shook his head, dismissing the notion as arrogance, but the question lingered.


    To quell his unease, Liam turned to the familiar practice of mana breathing. Sitting cross-legged, he closed his eyes and centered himself, drawing in mana with each steady breath. His mana heart glowed faintly, a small crimson but persistent flame nestled within.


    As he focused, the flame grew brighter. The mana surged toward him, filling his body with a warmth that was almost overwhelming. His mana heart pulsed in rhythm with his breaths, the flame within flickering turbulently, teetering on the brink of transformation. The mana flame showed signs of ¡ª


    "Another breakthrough" he whispered, incredulous. "But I just broke through yesterday. How is this happening?"


    The flame surged, spiraling higher, brighter. The room around him seemed to blur, the pull of mana becoming a roaring tide. Liam felt the raw energy coursing through him, threatening to spill over.


    "What if everyone learns about this?" he thought, panic creeping into his mind. ''"Breaking through in two days... no one would believe it. They''d think I''m used some kind of ¡ª"


    His thoughts were cut off as the flame wavered, its brilliance growing almost unbearable. His vision darkened, and then ¡ª


    A figure emerged within the swirling storm of mana. Liam saw a man, cloaked in an aura of power that seemed to distort reality itself. His presence was commanding, his expression both solemn and knowing.


    "Graham?" Liam''s voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed in the stillness of his mind.


    The vision deepened, the world around Liam dissolving into swirling shadows. Before him stood Graham, his presence commanding and otherworldly. The faint flicker of amusement danced in Graham''s eyes as he crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips.


    "And you thought he would wait after seeing you in the flesh?" Graham chuckled, his voice carrying both derision and amusement. "Idiot," he remarked, shaking his head.


    The voice, emanating from an unseen figure whose perspective Liam somehow shared, replied defensively, its tone edged with frustration.


    "What was I supposed to do? I thought he would try to fight me! I''m a major realm below him!"


    Graham raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting into one of bemused incredulity. "You could''ve ambushed him."


    "It was an ambush!" the voice shot back, tinged with irritation.


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    For a moment, Graham looked genuinely awkward. "Oh," he muttered. "Well ¡ª you were wrong."


    The voice hissed in frustration, but Graham pressed on, gesturing dismissively. "Even if you can cross realms and beat your opponent, it was a bad idea to ambush him. As soon as you revealed your identity, the entire Nvaar knew not to mess with you." He added, "he obviously knew and used an escape art."


    The voice growled in anger. "So what do I do? You''re the smart one. Tell me?"


    Graham let out a deep sigh, almost exasperated.


    "They humiliate us behind our backs," the voice snarled, venom lacing its words. "And when we confront them, they run. What do you suggest? I go around telling this tale to others like a coward? To those who have nothing better to do with their lives?"


    "Uh... well, that''s a start," Graham quipped, a sly grin creeping across his face.


    The voice bristled, and Graham quickly raised his hands. "I''m joking! I''m joking." He trailed off, his expression turning contemplative. "Huh ¡ª I did devise a method once."


    "What method?" the voice demanded, its tone sharp and impatient.


    Graham hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Never thought it would be useful in my lifetime"


    "Speak. Now," the voice growled.


    Graham clicked his tongue, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah, okay. So, once I thought about creating a mana art that would simulate the aura of a higher realm."


    The voice''s disbelief was almost palpable. "You what?"


    "It was a cool idea!" Graham defended himself, his eyes lighting up. "I came up with it as a twist on escape arts. You know, instead of running away, we''d create an illusion of overwhelming strength."


    Graham grinned, warming to the topic as he continued. "There''s precedence in nature. Weak creatures pretending to be strong, like the venomous plumage of the Thornwing Drake or the mimicry of the Shadow Viper. Predators avoid them because the cost of conflict isn''t worth it."


    The voice snapped back, unimpressed. "And how is this supposed to help me? I want a fight. Not them to run away."


    Graham clicked his tongue again, leaning back with a mocking sigh. "This is your problem. First, listen to me ¡ª I''m getting there. Take a breath."


    He resumed, his tone growing more serious. "But here''s the issue: I couldn''t create it. The intimidation techniques are already practiced by other clans. Poison arts, camouflage, aura enhancements, those methods are either limited or flawed. And simulating a higher realm is fundamentally well, impossible. To project strength like that takes a toll on the mana heart. It''s too dangerous."


    The voice trembled with suppressed frustration. "You said you had a solution."


    "Relax, I''m getting to it." Graham held up a hand. "The thing is ¡ª a lower realm simulating a higher realm in dangerous but a higher realm cultivator feigning weakness. ... that''s a different story altogether."


    He continiued "a higher realm cultivator can hide their strength, much like a Great Wooly Bear when it goes into hibernation. It makes its body prepare for a calamity. Its heart appears dormant, but it''s far from the truth. That''s the key. If you want to mimic weakness, you need to simulate ¡ª death"


    The voice fell silent for a moment, then finally spoke, its tone low and dangerous. "So that means I can play ¡ª "


    Graham''s grin returned, sharper this time. "A wolf in sheep''s clothing."


    "How? Tell me."


    The question hung in the air, but the vision began to fragment, Graham''s face fading into the storm of mana, he thre a scroll over towards Liam''s vision out of empty space. His voice echoed one last time, filled with equal parts mischief and wisdom.


    "That''s for you to figure out."


    Liam''s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding as a dull ache spread through his temples. The remnants of the vision lingered, vivid and sharp, yet disjointed. He felt a strange clarity settle over him, as though Graham''s words had imprinted themselves onto his very soul.


    His gaze fell to the quill and parchment on the desk before him. Almost without thinking, he reached for them, his hand steady despite the storm of emotions within him.


    With deliberate strokes, he wrote two words on the paper:


    Heart Frailty.


    The phrase sent a shiver through him as he stared at it. He knew what this was.


    Liam''s breathing steadied, but his mind raced. The mana flame within him flickered faintly, steady and unchanged. No breakthrough? The realization sent a chill down his spine. The overwhelming surge of mana he had felt moments ago ¡ª he hadn''t advanced?


    His gaze turned inward, and the truth began to unfold in fragmented thoughts.


    He had fueled something else.


    It wasn''t his mana flame, nor his mana heart. A thought struck him like a thunderclap. The memories.


    Each time he had gained knowledge ¡ª unexpected, vivid, and beyond his comprehension ¡ª it came at a cost. The memories, the insights, they consumed mana.


    He began to piece it together. The first time had been with the pendant, the strange warmth that had coursed through him, leaving his mind buzzing with alien concepts. Then, during the rite of recognition, when the mana surged violently within him, the headache had been near unbearable.


    He could use mana techniques with a precision and technique of an individual beyond initiate realm ¡ª It was an instinct.


    Afterward, the practice sessions in crucible, where the mana in the air had the surge, he burned like molten fire in those sessions, had brought yet another revelation.


    And then¡­ the meal Edwin had given him.


    His brow furrowed. That time had been different. There was no headache, no pain. Just a strange calmness, almost¡­ soothing. Why? Why had there been no strong reaction? What made it different? Why after the meal I began to have regular breakthroughs?


    The thought lingered, gnawing at him. He hadn''t connected it before, but now it seemed clear: each memory had distinct characteristics, always paired with some reaction ¡ª headaches, nausea, disorientation.


    Except for the meal.


    His chest tightened. Was the lack of a reaction a sign of something more ominous? Or had the meal been masking the symptoms? Liam clenched his fists, frustrated at his inability to see the full picture.


    It wasn''t just the memories, either. He realized now that the headaches had plagued him for years, long before the pendant or the rite of recognition. At times, they were accompanied by nausea or dizziness, but they didn''t always lead to a memory.


    Was this some deeper affliction? Or something tied to a unique connection of him to mana?


    "I have to figure it out," Liam muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with urgency. "I have to figure it out fast."


    His mind drifted to the vision of Graham, the words lingering like a whisper in his ear: Heart Fraility.


    The thought of using the technique which was etched in his newformed memories after the vision, filled him with equal parts fear and determination. Whatever had caused the surge tonight, whatever had fueled the memories, had also left him with no breakthrough.


    "I''m saved for today, no breakthrough to attract attention" Liam thought grimly, "but I need to use Heart Frailty as soon as possible."


    If the memories consumed mana, then the next time it happened, he had to be ready. Ready to harness the knowledge, and ready to protect his mana heart from whatever price it demanded.

 A Hidden Apprentice - II

    Liam sat on his balcony, the cool night air brushing against his skin as the faint radiance of Luna bathed the world in silver. The crescent moon hung low in the sky ¡ª the month of Elden was drawing to a close.


    Beside him, the soft glow of a mana lamp flickered gently, in comparison to the celestial glow above.


    His mind wandered as he gazed into the distance, contemplating the strange reality he had begun to accept. He was capable of mana breathing now ¡ª not just capable, but excelling at it with a speed and ease that felt almost unnatural.


    Each breath he took fed his mana heart, the flame within burning brighter and more vibrant with every moment of focus.


    Liam exhaled sharply, breaking his focus. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stop. If he continued mana breathing now, the inevitable would happen ¡ª a breakthrough. His mana flame was on the edge, teetering at the cusp of evolution ¡ª again.


    He wasn''t ready. Not yet. Not until he understood why his progress defied the norms written in the very books he had spent hours studying. Not until he is capable of hiding his strength.


    Leaning back in his chair, Liam stared at the crescent moon. His mind was locked on one task: Heart Frailty.


    The memory of Graham''s scroll echoed in his thoughts, recounting the steps of the technique, each one demanding precision and control. Liam recalled the warnings he had read, clear as if they were written before him now:


    "This technique demands absolute focus. You must not use even a shred of any other mana art during the process. To do so will undo everything, as the mana heart, capable of high-realm adaptability, will revert to its true strength instantly."


    . . .


    "One can lower his realm by three stages. The stronger the mana flame, the harder it is to suppress its radiance."


    . . .


    "Should one encounter an individual three realms higher, if they try to peer through your mana heart, their sheer aura alone can distort your concentration and render the suppression technique useless. In such cases, the flame within will instinctively reignite to its true radiance, shattering the illusion of weakness."


    However, the same passage also offered a glimmer of hope for mastery: "Yet, those with exceptional command over this skill, who can maintain unwavering focus and precision, may even fool individuals far beyond their own realm. "


    He exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves. He had to try. If he could master this, he could appear to be in the Initiate Realm, Ninth Blaze¡ª a guise that would provide him the element of surprise against any who underestimated him, but for now he wanted to avoid attention.


    Liam began the first step: The Dying Breath


    Each inhale grew shallower, each exhale softer, until his chest barely rose. His body resisted instinctively, urging him to take deeper breaths, but he fought the impulse. The air around him seemed heavier now, filled with mana he had to ignore.


    The second step was harder, focusing on not utilizing the mana in the air: Mana Divergence


    His mana heart, accustomed to drawing in and refining energy from his surroundings, pulsed faintly, almost irritated by his defiance. He concentrated harder, refusing to let his body instinctively absorb the mana. The strain made his muscles tense, his mind starving for relief.


    Then came the third step, slowing the heart: The Faint Pulse


    This was the most dangerous part so far. As Liam focused inward, his mana heart''s rhythm began to change, beating slower with every second. His body rebelled, reacting violently to the unnatural pace. A surge of mana erupted from within him, his body retaliating to preserve itself.


    Liam seized the opportunity, guiding the retaliatory mana to his skin, forcing it outward to perspire and lower his body temperature. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and the cool night air prickled his skin as his temperature dropped.


    The mana flame within him flickered weakly now, its radiance dimming¡ªbut it was still too strong.


    He reached the final step: Calming the flame.


    Liam steadied his mind, his entire focus on the flame within. He needed to weaken it further, deliberately starving it of mana to dull its color and dim its presence. But each time he tried, the flame resisted, flaring brighter with every attempt.


    The struggle was immense. His entire being seemed to rebel against the process, his mana heart fighting to maintain its strength. Liam''s breathing grew erratic as frustration set in, and with it came the first misstep. Without realizing it, a flicker of his regular mana technique activated.


    The moment was fleeting but catastrophic. His mana heart surged back to full strength, and the flame within roared to life, burning brighter than ever. Liam felt his chest tighten, a sharp ache spreading as his body reminded him of his failure.


    "Damn it!" Liam muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had made it far but lost control at the crucial moment.


    He fell back from his chair against the cool stone wall, panting. His mana flame radiated with its usual brilliance, far from the subdued light of a weakened heart. He had failed this time, but the process lingered vividly in his mind.


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    Liam couldn''t give up. If he could master Heart Frailty, it would be a game-changer.


    But the warning was clear: even the slightest misstep ¡ª any use of another technique ¡ª would undo the suppression. And once successful, if he attempted anything, even something as simple tempering by mana breathing, the mana flame would return instantly to its true power.


    Liam closed his eyes, trying to refocus. "Next time," he murmured, "I''ll get it right."


    Liam sat down this time, cross-legged, the cool air brushing against his damp skin as he prepared himself for another attempt.


    He reduced his breathing, his chest barely moving as his lungs fought for air. His heart slowed, but when the retaliatory mana surged, he couldn''t control it. The energy flared chaotically, and his flame blazed brighter than ever. Another failure.


    In his third attempt, he focused harder, determined to channel the retaliatory mana to perspire. But his body resisted, and instead of cooling, his skin flushed hot as the mana surged uncontrollably. The flame within him roared back to full strength.


    It seems its going to be a long night, Liam thought to himself.


    Fourth attempt:


    His breathing was perfect, his focus sharp. He reached the final step, his flame dulling to a faint glow. But in his eagerness to finish, he unconsciously activated a mana technique to stabilize the process. The backlash undid everything, leaving him gasping in frustration.


    Fifth attempt:


    Liam made it further than before, his mana flame nearly dim enough to mimic the first blaze. But his body''s natural resistance grew too intense, and his concentration broke. The flame flared back, burning brighter as it did.


    Sixth attempt:


    This time, his body trembled with strain as he pushed through the retaliatory mana and cooled his temperature. The flame flickered weakly, its radiance fading. Just as he was about to succeed, his mana heart rebelled, and he collapsed backward, panting heavily.


    Seventh attempt:


    Liam focused with laser-like precision, every movement deliberate. The flame dulled, its color faint. He was so close, but his impatience got the better of him. He tried to rush the final step, and the flame surged, undoing his progress.


    Eighth attempt, ninth attempt, tenth . . .


    It was midnight.


    Eighteen times? No matter how many times I fail, I will master this, Liam made his resolve


    Attempt Nineteen:


    His entire body shook with exhaustion, but Liam refused to stop. He moved methodically through the steps, ignoring the strain. The retaliatory mana came, and he guided it to perspire. His body cooled, and his flame flickered weakly. This time, he kept calm. With every ounce of willpower, he dulled the radiance of his flame, suppressing its color until it mimicked a first-blaze initiate.


    A wave of relief washed over him. He had done it. Liam exhaled shakily, staring inward at the faint, dim glow of his flame. This is it, he thought. First blaze. I finally did it.


    But he wasn''t done yet.


    Encouraged by his success, Liam decided to test his control. This time, he attempted to suppress his realm by just one minor level. His heart burned faintly as he adjusted, focusing on slowly increasing the flow of mana ¡ª only slightly. But his control wavered. The retaliatory mana was weaker this time, but it was still enough to destabilize his focus.


    The flame faltered and grew erratic. Liam gritted his teeth, trying to steady it. After a few agonizing moments, he finally succeeded in suppressing his realm by one minor level. His mimicked an Eighth Blaze Initiate.


    The effort left him drained. "That''s enough for today," he muttered, releasing his focus.


    As soon as he stopped, his mana flame roared back to its true strength, burning brilliantly within him. The warmth spread through his chest, steady and familiar, but Liam couldn''t help but feel pride. He had taken a step forward, even if it was small.


    Exhausted, he climbed into bed, his body heavy with fatigue. The crescent moon cast its light through the window, and as Liam drifted to sleep, a faint smile touched his lips. I''ll do better tomorrow. He closed the windows with Telekinesis.


    *


    The morning sun bathed the castle halls in a soft glow as Liam finished his breakfast, his thoughts already wandering to the library. The previous night''s efforts with Heart Frailty and his experiments with realm suppression still weighed on his mind, but today, he intended to shift his focus to elemental studies.


    As he made his way to the library, a small voice called out behind him.


    "Wait for me, brother!"


    Cecily came running after him, with traces of her hurried breakfast still present. Liam raised an eyebrow. "You''re tagging along today?"


    Cecily nodded enthusiastically, a grin lighting up her face. "Mother said I should accompany you. And I still need to finish reading the Stormcaller''s Guide! You said you''d help me if I had questions."


    Liam sighed but didn''t argue. Together, they made their way to the Mana Arts - Restricted Section.


    In the sitting area, Cecily immediately perched herself on one of the chairs, her feet barely touching the ground. She immediately buried herself in the Stormcaller''s Guide, her attention unwavering.


    Liam eyed the book, feeling a pang of envy. He wanted to finish reading it too, but he held back. Instead, he turned to Cecily and asked, "What basic elemental art would you recommend for someone starting out?"


    Cecily looked up, puzzled. "Brother ¡ª you know you can''t practice elemental magic until you''re at least an apprentice, right?"


    "I know," Liam replied, a small smirk playing on his lips. "It''s just for reading. I''m a Ninth Blaze now. I''ll be learning it sooner or later."


    Cecily''s eyes widened. "You broke through brother? When?"


    "Yesterday," he said nonchalantly.


    She blinked in surprise, trying to process the information. As young as she was, Cecily lacked the ability to peer into someone''s strength like her mother could. She had no reason to doubt him, but his casual admission still amazed her. "That''s¡­ great."


    Liam shrugged. "So? The book?"


    Cecily shook her head, still processing his progress. "Fine. There''s a book called Foundations of the Flame. It''s one of the best for beginners."


    Liam nodded and stood to retrieve it. As he walked past the towering shelves, a thought came to him. Glancing around to ensure Cecily couldn''t see, he held out his hand and concentrated.


    The faint hum of mana resonated within him as he willed it into action. A moment later, a spark of lightning flickered to life between his palm. It was brief but unmistakable. He quickly discharged it, a mix of pride and relief washing over him. So, it wasn''t an anomaly yesterday.


    Shaking off the thought, he located the book and returned to the sitting area. Cecily remained deeply engrossed in her reading, her focus sharp and unbroken. Liam watched her for a moment, noticing how much her control had improved since the previous day.


    "You''re doing really well," he said, breaking the silence.


    Cecily looked up, startled. "Huh?"


    "Your control. It''s better than it was yesterday."


    Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she smiled. "Thank you, brother."


    "You must come here often to practice," Liam added, settling into his seat and opening his book.


    Cecily shook her head. "Not really."


    He frowned. "But you''re here with me always?"


    "That''s because of you," she said like stating a fact. "Mother has now told me to accompany you. I wanted to come once but you''re¡­ well, you''re an excellent explainer. You make things easy to understand."


    Liam blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Oh."


    Turning back to his book, he let her words sink in, a small smile tugging at his lips. As he delved into Foundations of the Flame, he occasionally glanced at Cecily, still amazed at her dedication.


    The book was straightforward but fascinating, detailing the basics of fire magic. Liam felt a spark of excitement as he read, eager to learn more. The fire element was as destructive as it was beautiful, and he couldn''t help but wonder how long it would take before he could master it.

 A Hidden Apprentice - III

    Liam sat alone in the quiet sitting area as the hours of the night deepened. Cecily had stayed until after dinner. Queen Elara hadn''t allowed her youngest daughter outside the imperial palace for long, leaving Liam to study alone.


    The Stormcaller''s Guide lay open before him, The book was divided into five sections, each representing a progressive mastery of lightning magic:


    First Section: Lightning Heart ¨C Harnessing the faint mana pulse of lightning, a skill designed at mana capacicty of late Initiates to practice elemental tempering, control and precision.


    Second Section: Sparks ¨C Creating tiny palmar discharges, an exercise with mana requirement of early Apprentices.


    Third Section: Arcs ¨C Channeling electricity in short, visible bursts, with a power of mid Apprentices.


    Fourth Section: Zaps ¨C Casting a focused stream of lightning, achievable only with a mana resource of late Apprentices.


    Fifth Section: Bolts ¨C Summoning a bolt of raw lightning, the first real taste of mastery over the element, designed for early Adepts.


    Each section built upon the previous, emphasizing not just raw power but the foundations of control, precision, and endurance. Although the first section required the mana of late Initiates. The text explicitly cautioned that lightning, as a primary element, was impossible for Initiates to wield.


    Even talented Apprentices were encouraged to secure a simpler element like fire or water before attempting the lightning''s fury. Lightning was the most volatile of elements, unforgiving to those without a strong mana heart and an unyielding will.


    For most, this book served as a long-term guide, laying the groundwork for mastery over the years. But for Liam, it was a treasure trove of knowledge that worked wonders on his unique condition.


    Liam exhaled slowly, focusing on the instructions in the first section, Lightning Heart. The text detailed the process meticulously:


    "To summon the faint glow of lightning, an Initiate must first temper their mana heart through controlled breathing. Direct the mana flow inwards, mimicking the subtle factors of lightning. Do not force the element; allow it to emerge naturally, like a spark waiting to ignite.


    Temperance is key. The glow is not about power but precision. A steady rhythm of mana breathing, guided by the element''s knowledge, will awaken the light within, without overburdening the heart."


    Liam closed his eyes and began. His breathing slowed as he guided his mana inward. Unlike the basic mana breathing he had practiced before, this method required him to attune it with lightning''s energy, its restless hum vibrating faintly within his core.


    He visualized the glow described in the text, a faint pulse of energy forming in his mana heart. The sensation was strange ¡ª different from the raw arcs he had made before. It was controlled, deliberate, and¡­ exhilarating.


    As he continued, his mana heart responded. The faint flicker of a glow appeared, pulsing in rhythm with his breaths. A surge of excitement coursed through him, but he quickly steadied himself. The text warned against overexertion; the lightning would grow volatile if pushed too far.


    Liam had succesfully tempered his heart while wielding lightning.


    He further tempered his mana heart ¡ª sharpening it with the volatile energy of lightning itself.


    What should have been a preparatory technique for talented Adept-level individuals had become his method of refining his Initiate mana heart .


    The glow intensified, and Liam felt the edges of his mana heart quiver under the strain. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he focused, his breathing steady but labored. It''s working, he thought, the realization both thrilling and daunting.


    With each pulse, his mana heart grew stronger, adapting to the rhythm of the storm. He was forging something unique ¡ª a foundation that defied the conventions laid out by the book.


    As the night wore on, Liam''s determination only deepened. His focus sharpened, his mana heart pulsing steadily as he tempered it with the first techniques from Stormcaller''s Guide. For most, this method would prepare them for lightning as a secondary element years down the line. But for Liam, it was the key to shaping his very foundation. Lightning was his primary element, the power brimmed into his pulse.


    The hours crept by, and exhaustion tugged at his body, but Liam pushed through. He wasn''t just practicing now ¡ª he was chasing greater realms. He didn''t want another fleeting memory or a headache-induced revelation. What he wanted was a breakthrough.


    As dawn approached, Liam felt it ¡ª the culmination of his efforts. The flickering glow in his mana heart grew steadier, brighter, until it burned with a brilliance that consumed his entire core. His breathing hitched as a surge of mana coursed through him, his body trembling under the intensity.


    And then, with a final pulse, his mana heart surged.


    Liam gasped, the sensation overwhelming yet invigorating. He had done it. He had broken through. The faint light of the rising sun filtered through the window, painting the room in hues of gold and crimson as Liam steadied himself.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    He sat there, stunned, his mind racing. I am a tenth-blaze Initiate¡­ He closed his eyes, feeling the changes in his mana flame, the strength of his mana heart. A Dawn of Apprentice.


    The sun peeked over the horizon, and the first chime of the clock tower echoed across the imperial palace. Liam had time before the day fully began, but his excitement didn''t allow him to rest. One more thing, he thought, his determination rekindling.


    Sitting cross-legged, he focused his mind and began practicing Heart Frailty. With his breakthrough fueling him, he felt a renewed confidence.


    His breathing slowed, his mana flame steady and controlled as he visualized the steps: reducing his breathing, ignoring the mana in the air, and resisting the body''s retaliation. His heart slowed, and the mana his body released in response was redirected to cool his mana flame, lowering its intensity.


    Liam''s focus wavered as his body resisted, the flame flickering back to its natural radiance. He was at unease, pulling himself back, deliberately dulling the flame''s color.


    Finally, Liam opened his eyes. His mana flame flickered weakly within him, its radiance dulled. He had done it. He had successfully mimicked the aura of a ninth-blaze Initiate in first try.


    A faint smile crept onto his lips as he leaned back, exhaustion finally catching up to him. I did it.


    For a moment, he simply sat there, reveling in his accomplishment.


    But as his breathing steadied, a thought stirred within him, unbidden yet deliberate. My memories¡­ they''re projections of my thoughts.


    He realized now that they weren''t mere coincidences. They manifested when he needed them most ¡ª sometimes guiding him, sometimes answering the questions he dared to ask. The first time was during the Rite of Recognition. For years, Liam had watched his four elder brothers undertake their rites, their mana blazing with intensity that left a lasting impression on his young mind. It was only natural that when his own time came, his subconscious would reach into the depths of his being and pull forth the memory of Mana Stasis, a dark spell that allowed him to endure the enormous surge of mana.


    Later, when the headaches began to plague him and the questions about their origins consumed him, the memories shifted again. He recalled the meeting between Archmage Caelus, his mother, and King Elijah ¡ª a conversation that unraveled pieces of the enigma surrounding his condition. It all aligned, each memory arising from his thoughts and needs.


    And now when he didn''t need them, the mana forged his mana heart, making him a tenth-blaze Initiate.


    But not everything made sense. There was still the soothing feeling that had washed over him after Edwin brought him that meal. No memory accompanied it, no surge of recollection. It had been an anomaly, an exception to the rule. And now, Liam was sure of it: That was no ordinary meal.


    Shaking off the thoughts for now, Liam left the library and made his way to breakfast. Cecily, ever-cheerful, caught up with him as he entered the dining hall.


    "Brother! Can I come with you again after breakfast?" she asked, finishing her food quickly.


    He glanced at her, a slight smile on his lips. "Not today, Cecily. I''ll be sleeping. I came straight here from the Arcanum ¡ª didn''t even rest after my studies."


    Cecily''s eyes widened with admiration. "You studied all night?!"


    "Something like that," he replied, ruffling her hair. "You should go study. If you need help with anything, let me know later."


    "Okay!" she chirped, determined to follow his advice.


    After breakfast, Liam returned to his room, a sense of relief washing over him. Nobody saw through my breakthrough, he thought, his mind circling back to his mother. She, at least, was sharp. A Specialist mage, without question, and her nobility lineage of Arden gave her enough talent to hold her position as Queen of Ironhelm. If she didn''t notice, I should be fine.


    Relief struck his face. If it''s like this, then I don''t mind another breakthrough.


    Liam summoned Edwin before shutting himself away. "I won''t be coming down for lunch," Edwin left without question.


    Closing the door behind him, Liam let out a long breath. His gaze swept over the room as he extended his hand, using Telekinesis to shut every window and secure every opening. As the room darkened, the faint glow of mana emanating from within him cast flickering shadows.


    But the moment the Telekinesis took effect, Liam felt the shift. The delicate suppression he had maintained earlier shattered instantly, and his mana heart surged back to its true state. The blazing intensity of a tenthth-blaze Initiate burned within him, untamed and undeniable.


    Of course, he thought, a mix of frustration and resignation. Any use of mana art resets everything.


    Sitting cross-legged, Liam closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, focusing inward. Lightning Heart, he thought, the elements crackling energy already resonating within his mana heart. His dedication unwavering, he began tempering his heart anew.


    The strain was immense, far beyond anything Liam had anticipated. The barrier separating the realms was like an impenetrable wall, mocking his efforts. His mana heart pulsed steadily, his mana flame burned fiercely, and his mana pulse radiated outward in a rhythmic cadence ¡ª but none of them showed signs of transformation.


    Sweat beaded on his brow as he poured his focus into the process. The mana flame demanded far more fuel than it ever had while ascending minor realms, draining his reserves at a staggering rate. This was no ordinary hurdle ¡ª it was a major realm, the divide between Initiate and Apprentice. Liam calmed his nerves, steadying his breathing. He knew this wouldn''t be easy, but he had no intention of stopping now.


    Merging Mana Breathing with the raw power of Lightning Heart, Liam pressed forward. The pressure was crushing, each surge of lightning coursing through his body like a trial of endurance. His mind reeled, his body screamed for reprieve, but he refused to give up.


    Two days passed, the hours blurring together in his relentless pursuit. Exhaustion clawed at him, but then, at last, there was a shift. His mana flame began to flicker, subtle changes spreading through the vessels surrounding his heart. The faintest hue began to emerge, a golden-yellow glimmer ¡ª a citrine light ¡ª forming at the edges of the flame.


    Liam''s heart raced as he recognized the sign of progress. Grabbing hold of this change, he pushed harder, amplifying the intensity of Lightning Heart. Sparks danced within him, the energy surging with newfound strength.


    The transformation began in earnest. The mana heart quaked, its surface fracturing ever so slightly as golden veins of citrine light wove through it. The mana flame, once crimson, ignited with a radiant citrine brilliance . His mana pulse, contained surged outward power and authority.


    Then, with a final push, the barrier shattered. A rush of energy flooded his being, his mana heart stabilizing into its new form. The flame burned bright and steady, no longer flickering. His mana pulse settled into a rhythm far more potent, marking the shift in his essence.


    Liam opened his eyes slowly, the power of an Apprentice Mage coursing through him. He exhaled, his breath a mix of relief and exhilaration. He had done it ¡ª he had crossed the divide and ascended to a new realm.

 Auxiliary Chapter - Request From Duke Beckett

    To His Majesty,


    King Elijah Orlean of the Ironhelm Empire,


    I write to you with great urgency from the Beckett Duchy in the northernmost reaches of Ironhelm, where my people are enduring relentless hardship. In recent days, our lands have been struck by a succession of calamities ¡ª avalanches have buried entire settlements, earthquakes have torn through our strongholds, and unrelenting storms have left us battered and vulnerable.


    The toll has been devastating. Our stores deplete faster than we can replenish them, and with the roads fractured and the frost encroaching, relief grows harder to secure. Many have been displaced, their homes swallowed by ice and ruin, and though we stand resilient, even the hardiest among us cannot weather this alone.


    Thus, as one who has long upheld the bond between our lands, I humbly petition Your Majesty for aid. We require supplies ¡ª grain, medicine, and materials to rebuild our shattered fortifications. Moreover, should it be within your power to spare, skilled artisans and mages capable of reinforcing our structures against nature''s wrath would be invaluable.


    Your Majesty, I would not make such a request lightly. The House of Orlean has ever been a pillar of strength for its vassals, and Ironhelm has long been Nvaar''s unyielding northern shield. But even the strongest fortress crumbles when left unaided against the storm.


    I have also put forth a comprehensive report detailing all the losses we have incurred.


    Without immediate intervention, we risk famine, rebellion, and the irreversible collapse of this vital frontier. The Empire''s northernmost domain cannot fall ¡ª not now, not ever.


    I implore you, in the name of duty, of honor, and of the people who still stand under your banner, to extend your hand in aid. Whatever relief you can provide will be repaid in unwavering loyalty.


    With the deepest respect and unshaken devotion to the Kingdom, may the Iron Throne stand eternal.


    Warren Beckett


    Duke of Beckett Duchy,


    Overseer of Frostmere and Durnholde


    *


    Report of the extent of the catastrophe


    I. Detailed account of the avalanches


    The northern territories of the Kingdom have suffered from an unprecedented series of avalanches, bringing widespread destruction to settlements, trade routes, and military fortifications. These disasters were neither isolated nor predictable ¡ª each wave of collapse has worsened the already dire conditions of the region.


    The avalanches appear to have been triggered by a combination of a potentially supernatural factor


    Unstable Snowpack and Sudden Temperature Shifts


    . . .


    The extreme fluctuations in temperature, causing deep layers of ice to melt and refreeze rapidly.


    The snowpack became unstable, leading to large-scale collapses in multiple locations.


    . . .


    Seismic Activity


    . . .


    Tremors from the earthquakes have dislodged massive sections of snow and ice from the Frostmere and Durnholde mountain ranges.


    These seismic shocks have set off chain reactions, triggering avalanches in areas previously considered safe.


    . . .


    Unusual Storm Patterns


    . . .


    Torrential snowfall combined with high winds has deposited unnatural amounts of ice on precarious slopes.


    Lightning strikes have fractured ice formations, causing sudden releases of built-up pressure.


    . . .


    Potential Magical Disturbances


    . . .


    Local mages have reported anomalies in the mana flow of the region, hinting at a disturbance affecting the natural environment.


    Further investigation is required to rule out whether an external force or a failed magical experiment could have played a role.


    Impact and Devastation


    . . .


    The scale of destruction has been immense. Below is a summary of key locations affected:


    Fort Durnholde


    . . .


    Once a critical defensive stronghold, Fort Vaelheim was completely buried under an avalanche measuring over 300 feet in height.


    Over 700 soldiers and officers were stationed within the fort at the time; only a handful have been recovered alive.


    All food stores, weapon stockpiles, and mana-infused equipment were lost beneath the ice.


    . . .


    Frostmere Pass


    . . .


    The primary trade artery connecting Frostmere and Durnholde of Beckett Duchy to the southern provinces, Frostmere Pass, has been blocked by over 2 miles of solid ice and debris.


    Caravans carrying essential supplies were caught in the collapse; at least 300 merchants and travelers have perished.


    Restoration efforts have been futile due to constant snowfall and further tremors in the area.


    . . .


    Durnholde Bastion


    . . .


    The Durnholde Bastion, which protected the western flank of the duchy, was struck by a mid-sized avalanche.


    While not completely buried, its outer walls and defensive towers were shattered, leaving it vulnerable.


    Nearly 400 soldiers were either crushed or frozen to death in the collapse.


    . . .


    Village of Icehollow


    . . .


    The small mining village of Icehollow, home to over 1,200 souls, was entirely swallowed by an avalanche.


    No survivors have been found yet.


    The Icehollow Mines, a key supplier of Arcanite ore, are now inaccessible under hundreds of feet of snow.


    . . .


    II. Detailed Account of the Earthquakes


    The earthquakes have shaken the foundation of the northern frontier, causing widespread devastation across the Duchy of Beckett, the Baronies of Frostmere and Durnholde, and surrounding settlements. These tremors were unlike anything recorded in the past century, exhibiting unusual intensity, frequency, and reach.


    Magnitude and Frequency


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    . . .


    At least seven major earthquakes have struck the region, ranging from mild tremors to catastrophic quakes.


    The strongest recorded quake was centered beyond the Ironhelm Mountain Range.


    Seismic activity has not ceased, with aftershocks occurring every few days, worsening structural damage and hampering rescue efforts.


    . . .


    Geological Instability and Unnatural Patterns


    . . .


    These earthquakes were not part of the region''s usual seismic cycle, leading scholars and mages to suspect a deeper anomaly at work.


    Entire landmasses have shifted, creating new crevasses, fault lines, and unstable cliffs.


    In some areas, strange underground noises have been reported before the tremors, fueling speculation of subterranean disturbances beyond natural causes.


    . . .


    Collateral Disasters: Avalanches and Rockslides


    . . .


    The earthquakes triggered multiple avalanches in the Frostspire and Durnholde mountain ranges, burying entire fortresses and villages under ice.


    Rockslides and land collapses have wiped out roads, bridges, and trade routes, leaving many settlements completely isolated.


    . . .


    Impact and Damage Report


    . . .


    The destruction caused by the earthquakes has left no part of the Duchy untouched. Below is a summary of the most heavily affected areas:


    The City of Whitehold


    . . .


    As the administrative center of Beckett Duchy, Whitehold suffered extensive damage.


    The Duke''s Palace of mine has sustained severe structural fractures, making it unsafe for continued habitation.


    The Arcanum of the North, home to priceless magical tomes and artifacts, partially collapsed, leading to the loss of many irreplaceable records.


    An estimated One-third of the city''s population has been displaced due to collapsed buildings and fires.


    . . .


    Frostmere Barony


    . . .


    The Frostmere Mines, the largest source of metallic ores and minerals, have caved in, trapping hundreds of miners and rendering all operations impossible.


    The town of Silverglade, once a thriving center of trade, has sunk into the ground due to a massive fissure, killing nearly 800 people and injuring the household of Baron Charles.


    The main fortress guarding the northern border, responsible for fending off raiders and wild creatures, has suffered irreparable damage, leaving the area vulnerable.


    . . .


    Durnholde Barony


    . . .


    Massive chasms have opened up, swallowing farmlands, roads, and even entire villages.


    The Durnholde river, once a lifeline for the region, changed course entirely, leading to widespread flooding.


    The Great Northern Watchtower, an ancient bastion standing for centuries, collapsed into rubble, cutting off early warning signals for threats approaching from the icy expanse.


    . . .


    III. Detailed Account of the Thunderstorms and Blizzards


    The relentless thunderstorms and blizzards that have plagued the northern frontier have been unlike any recorded in living memory. These tempests, far beyond seasonal patterns, have compounded the devastation caused by the earthquakes and avalanches, leaving entire settlements in ruins and the land nearly uninhabitable.


    For nearly two days, the skies above Northern Nvaar have been a battleground of lightning, torrential rain, and unnatural winds, turning the land into a frozen wasteland of destruction.


    Unnatural Frequency and Intensity


    . . .


    The thunderstorms have not followed natural weather cycles, appearing without warning, often accompanied by violent mana surges.


    Some scholars suspect arcane interference or a disturbance in the balance of mana in the north.


    . . .


    Devastating Lightning Strikes


    . . .


    The lightning strikes have been unnaturally frequent and concentrated, often striking the same locations multiple times within minutes.


    Dozens of watchtowers, granaries, and fortresses have burned due to these strikes, their stone foundations unable to withstand the repeated assaults.


    The Great Northwood, a dense and ancient forest crucial for timber supply, has suffered extensive fires, further endangering wildlife and settlements.


    . . .


    Relentless Winds and Hailstorms


    Winds reaching speeds of a hurricane storms have ripped through villages, tearing off roofs, shattering glass, and making even simple travel impossible.


    Massive hailstones, some as large as a fist, have battered the landscape, damaging livestock, crops, and structures alike.


    Entire caravans have been overturned, resulting in the loss of much-needed supplies meant for relief efforts.


    . . .


    The Impact on Infrastructure


    . . .


    Bridges have collapsed, weakened by both wind and constant exposure to rain.


    Roads have turned into swamps of mud and ice, making travel nearly impossible.


    The main supply routes leading into the Duchy are now blocked, cutting off trade and reinforcements from the south.


    . . .


    The Longest Blizzard in Recorded History


    . . .


    Snowfall began has not ceased since.


    Some settlements report of accumulated snow, burying entire villages and making rescue operations nearly impossible.


    . . .


    The Deathly Cold


    . . .


    Temperatures have dropped to a level of freezing lakes within a day.


    Even experienced northern dwellers are struggling to survive, with hundreds succumbing to hypothermia as fires fail to stay lit in the relentless winds.


    The frostbite epidemic is spreading, with reports of entire groups of travelers frozen solid where they stood.


    . . .


    The Collapse of Agriculture and Livelihoods


    . . .


    What little farmland existed in the north is now completely frozen and unsalvageable.


    Livestock are perishing in droves, either freezing to death or succumbing to malnutrition.


    The fishing industry has ceased entirely, as rivers and lakes have frozen solid, leaving many without their primary food source.


    . . .


    IV. Current Losses and Resources Spent


    . . .


    Population Displacement: 112,897 souls rendered homeless.


    Food Reserves: 4/10th of stored provisions lost.


    Livestock Casualties:


    - 10,000 cattle


    - 30,000 sheep


    - 15,000 horses


    . . .


    Structural Damage:


    - 18 settlements in ruin.


    - 7 major strongholds severely compromised.


    - Trade and Industry Losses:


    - Mines shut down, cutting off vital ore and mana crystal production.


    - All major roadways impassable, disrupting commerce.


    . . .


    In my desperate bid to stabilize the region, I have personally expended exactly Six million nine hundred three thousand three hundred fifty-six Gold Crowns from my own reserves.


    - I have purchased food shipments from neighboring regions at exorbitant prices.


    - I have hired independent mercenaries to reinforce law and order.


    - I have commissioned builders and enchanters to restore key strongholds.


    Now, my treasury has dwindled to its final reserves ¡ª enough to sustain our efforts for no more than three more weeks. After that, the northern frontier will be defenseless.


    . . .


    V. Immediate Needs


    . . .


    Search and Rescue Operations


    Over 1,500 people are still missing, and survivors remain trapped beneath structures.


    We need trained rescue mages, tunneling specialists, and warmth-generating artifacts to aid in recovery efforts.


    . . .


    Medical and Humanitarian Aid


    . . .


    Frostbite, starvation, and injuries from collapsing structures have overwhelmed local healers.


    The Duchy''s winter food reserve is present but will soon be depleted due to the sudden catastrophe. Without emergency rations, thousands will starve before winter''s end. Livestock and grain shipments must be sent immediately before supply lines become completely impassable.


    We require healing potions, enchanted blankets, and mana-infused rations to keep survivors alive.


    . . .


    Shelter and Provisions for the Displaced


    . . .


    Over 100,000 people have been displaced and are now seeking refuge in overcrowded towns.


    Immediate funding is needed to construct temporary housing and food distribution centers.


    The Ironhelm Throne must send scholars, mages, and experts in mana anomalies to determine the cause and prevent further disasters.


    . . .


    Regional Reinceforcement


    . . .


    With watchtowers destroyed and fortresses weakened, the north is now vulnerable to raids and beast incursions.


    We need reinforcements from the royal army to safeguard what remains.


    VI. Long-Term Needs


    Weather Mitigation Efforts


    . . .


    The region''s weather patterns must be studied to determine if this storm is a natural phenomenon or the result of deeper magical disturbances.


    Barrier magic or large-scale weather-altering spells may be needed to prevent the total collapse of the northern territories.


    Seismic Reinforcement of Key Structures


    . . .


    Infrastructure Recovery and Fortification


    . . .


    Roads, fortifications, and watchtowers must be rebuilt, with stronger materials resistant to extreme weather conditions.


    The Ironhelm Throne should consider establishing permanent emergency shelters in key locations.


    . . .


    Economic Assistance and Trade Routes


    . . .


    The Duchy''s economy is near collapse, and recovery will take years without immediate intervention.


    Tax relief, trade incentives, and imperial subsidies will be necessary to rebuild commerce and production.


    . . .


    Urgent Requests for Imperial Assistance


    . . .


    To prevent the complete collapse of Nvaar and its vassal territories, I humbly request emergency aid in the form of:


    Food and Relief Supplies ¨C


    Estimated Cost: One Million Gold Crowns


    - 300,000 sacks of grain and flour


    - 50,000 barrels of salted meat and fish


    - Medical supplies and clothing for the displaced


    . . .


    Reconstruction Materials ¨C


    Estimated Cost: Two Million and Five Hundred Thousand Gold Crowns


    - 250,000 units of stone, timber, and iron for rebuilding


    - Skilled laborers for road and stronghold repairs


    . . .


    Military and Magical Reinforcement ¨C


    Estimated Cost: Seven hundred and fifty thousand Gold Crowns


    - 5,000 trained soldiers to assist in maintaining order


    - Mage units specializing in weather control and defensive warding


    - Alchemists and Clerics to prevent the spread of disease


    . . .


    Economic Restoration ¨C


    Estimated Cost: 1,250,000 Gold Crowns


    - Temporary tax relief for the affected duchy and baronies


    - Grants for merchants, farmers, and blacksmiths to restart local trade


    - Investment in reopening collapsed mines and trade routes


    . . .


    Your Majesty,


    I understand that the burdens of the empire are many, and I do not make this request lightly. The Grand Duchy has already exhausted nearly all its treasury reserves in mitigating the devastation. What little remains is insufficient to sustain our people through the coming months.


    I assure you that any aid provided shall be accounted for with full transparency. The expenses will be meticulously recorded, and should the Duchy recover, we shall repay in tribute, service, or resources as deemed appropriate by the Ironhelm Throne.


    This is not merely a plea for survival ¡ª it is a call to preserve the northern frontier of the empire. Without your aid, the lands of Beckett Duchy may soon be swallowed by the ice, and the people who have long served the crown may be lost to history.


    May the strength of Ironhelm endure.


    Respectfully,


    Duke Warren Beckett of Nvaar


    Overseer of Frostmere and Durnholde

 Eve of Noah - I

    A commotion stirred within the palace. When it became evident that Prince Liam had skipped his meals for two consecutive days, Edwin grew increasingly concerned. On the second day, when Liam failed to respond for hours, Edwin was left with no choice but to inform Queen Isabella. The risk of delaying the matter any further was too great ¡ª he knew the consequences could be severe if something went wrong.


    Respectful of Liam''s privacy and his newly formed resolve, Edwin refrained from opening the door himself and instead waited for a response. When Liam finally opened the door, he explained that he was suffering from a headache. Queen Isabella, though relieved that nothing serious had happened, made it clear that such behavior was unacceptable. Skipping meals was not an option, no matter the reason.


    Though she forgave him, Liam was punished. For a week, he was forbidden from attending the Arcanum, a consequence that weighed heavily on him.


    Later that day, Edwin approached Liam with a heavy heart, apologizing for his actions.


    "I''m sorry, Master Liam. I had to inform the queen. You didn''t respond for hours, and I couldn''t risk anything happening to you."


    Liam, though weary, offered a faint smile. "It''s alright, Edwin. I understand. You did what you had to do."


    The incident was kept strictly confidential, with no word of it spreading to the rest of the royal family or court. However, Liam''s punishment meant he couldn''t attend the Arcanum, which complicated matters. His younger sister, Cecily, began visiting him in his chambers instead.


    Each time Cecily questioned why he wasn''t at the Arcanum, Liam would make an excuse. "Just taking some time to rest," he''d say, or, "The recommended books are nothing special this time." Cecily, innocent and trusting, accepted his words without suspicion, though she couldn''t help but notice how tired he looked.


    The days rolled by., and the Imperial Palace stirred with excitement as preparations for the Eve of Noah began in earnest. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the palace walls, while the halls buzzed with the anticipation of celebration.


    Servants draped shimmering banners, polished the grand chandeliers, and laid out the finest silks and gold-threaded carpets. The night, soon to be marked by a new moon, would transform the palace into a radiant beacon of light and splendor.


    The occasion was the beginning of the Ninth Month of Noah. Every month in the Ironhelm calendar bore the name of one of the first thirteen kings, those who had laid the foundation of the empire.


    Tradition demanded that the first midnight of the month be celebrated in their honor, with grand ceremonies and festivities that brought together nobles, scholars, and other distinguished figures from across the kingdom.


    Though many would attend, some members of the royal family were notably absent. King Elijah would not be present, and the twelve princes were likewise excused.


    The princesses had taken leave from their studies at the Royal Institute to attend, while Cecily, still too young for such commitments, had been present in the palace all along.


    Liam, watching the flurry of activity from his chamber window, felt the weight of the night press upon him. He was no stranger to noble gatherings, but tonight was different. Nobles of considerable power and mastery would be present, and their scrutiny was sharp. If he attended this event and failed to hide his realm, particularly from those who were three realms above, Heart Frailty would crumble instantly. Such a failure would be disastrous ¡ª after all, he was now a first-blaze Apprentice.


    He closed his eyes, blocking out the distant chatter of servants and the golden hues of the sunset. The only thing that mattered now was preparation.


    Over the days of his punishment, Liam had been forced to pause his training with the Stormcaller''s Guide. Without the book in hand to verify the technique''s finer details, he hadn''t dared to practice lightning arts recklessly. Books from the Arcanum''s restricted section were strictly confined to its halls, and Liam couldn''t risk drawing attention by borrowing one without permission.


    Instead, he turned his focus inward. Heart Frailty, a mystic art he had committed to memory, became his point of mastery. While his progress over the past week had been significant, Liam wasn''t satisfied. He had honed it enough to obscure his presence from those of the Specialist realm, but tonight demanded more. He needed to raise his threshold.


    Sitting cross-legged in the center of his chamber, Liam steadied his breath. He allowed his breaths to grow shallow, inching closer to the point where his chest barely moved. The familiar strain tugged at him. He resisted the mana-rich air of the palace, which seemed heavier tonight. His mana heart pulsed faintly, agitated by the refusal to draw in energy.


    Liam pressed on. As his heart slowed, his body retaliated, sending sharp pulses of mana through his veins. He harnessed this surge, guiding it outward to cool his temperature, until his body''s defiance began to wane. The mana flame flickered faintly, its brightness dimming slightly under his control.


    This time, however, the flame shifted hue ¡ª from citrine to crimson red. He pushed further, seeking to stabilize it at the ninth blaze Initiate. His mind steadied, and he focused on the flame, deliberately reducing the flow of mana feeding it.


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    Minutes turned to hours. He repeated the process again and again, he had to solidify his control.


    Midnight was approaching, a sharp knock sounded at the door.


    Liam opened his eyes. The crimson glow of his mana flame was weak, barely discernible, mimicking the power of a ninth-blaze initiate. He exhaled slowly as he rose to his feet. He approached the door, and as he opened it, Edwin stood there, his expression apologetic yet tinged with urgency, flanked by Mara and Trisha.


    "Master Liam," Edwin began, bowing slightly, "the Queen has granted you permission to join the event."


    Liam nodded, his composure calm, though a flicker of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. He had anticipated this and prepared for it.


    "She has also decided to lift the remainder of your punishment."


    "Thank you, Edwin," Liam said evenly, his tone betraying none of the anticipation he felt. He had counted on his mother''s leniency


    Liam stepped aside, letting them enter. Mara carried a neatly folded ceremonial outfit in her arms, while Trisha followed with a small case containing accessories and grooming tools.


    "Prince Liam, you''ll look elegant," Mara said warmly.


    Trisha gave him a bright smile as she began unpacking the case. "The Queen wants you to make an impression tonight," she added.


    As Mara and Trisha worked quickly to ready him, Liam kept his focus. He adjusted his breathing, his mind still on the delicate balance of his mana flame. His outward composure remained poised, but beneath the surface, his resolve burned bright.


    As he readied himself for the night, Liam was confident. His mastery over Heart Frailty had reached a level where he could obscure his true realm from even ascendants four realms above him.


    Once he was dressed and prepared, Liam turned to Edwin, who stood quietly.


    "Edwin," Liam began, his voice casual yet probing, "What''s the menu for tonight''s event?"


    Edwin paused for a moment, ensuring the answer was appropriate before speaking. "The menu is a grand selection of the kingdom''s finest dishes ¡ª roasted venison, honeyed bread, delicate pastries, and the best wines from the harvest of Duke Beckett''s southern vineyards."


    "And what of my sisters? Who else is attending?"


    "Princess Cecily is already in attendance, of course. The others¡ªPrincess Cassandra, Princess Elaine, and Princess Evaline ¡ª are on their way ¡ª will arrive shortly before midnight. The event is a celebration for the Month of Noah''s, so all nobles are expected to be present."


    Liam nodded, but his true curiosity was yet to be satisfied. "And the guests¡­ Anyone of notable realm?"


    Edwin gave a polite bow, answering carefully. "No Grandmasters or Archmages will be in attendance, Master Liam, as my King will not be present tonight. However, many influential figures will be. Dukes Beckett, and Duchesses Maria, along with other high-ranking nobles, are expected. They will certainly be there to make alliances with the royal family and perhaps seek to gain favor."


    Liam''s mind sharpened, he was relieved as he processed the information. While no one above the Master realm was present, the high-ranking Ascendant nobility could still prove to be a challenge. His attention would need to remain razor-focused. Even if their mana could not directly threaten him, their political maneuvering could. He would need to be careful.


    "Thank you, Edwin," Liam said, he turned to look at his reflection one last time. "I''ll be there before midnight."


    As Edwin, Mara, and Trisha closed the door behind them and made their way out, Liam took a deep breath, centering himself. His gaze moved toward the grand view from his balcony, where the grand hall below shimmered with lanterns and torches. The event was about to begin.


    Liam steadied his Heart Frailty once again, making sure the delicate balance of his mana flame was in place. He couldn''t afford any slip-ups tonight.


    After a moment of contemplation, he turned and walked toward the door. Edwin was there to accompany him as he opened it, leading the way toward the grand hall.


    As they made their way down the long hallway, a familiar voice called out.


    "Brother!"


    Liam looked over and saw Cecily approaching, her attire matching the grandeur of the occasion. Her dress sparkled faintly in the dim light, and she moved with a grace that belied her age. There was a quiet confidence in her stride ¡ª almost like she was already embracing her role in the world, just like him.


    "I didn''t think I''d find you before the event began," Cecily said with a playful smile. "Are you nervous?"


    Liam gave a small, confident smile of his own. "Not at all. But I''ll admit, there are a lot of eyes tonight."


    "You look ready for it," Cecily complimented, her voice laced with admiration. "You''re looking just like Father."


    Liam chuckled lightly. "I suppose so. Though I''d say I''m still a long way from his appeal."


    Cecily smirked. "You''re definitely closer than most realize."


    Liam glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "You seem to be implying something."


    "Oh, nothing," Cecily said, her grin widening. "But¡­ you wouldn''t be looking for any girls tonight, would you?"


    Liam blinked, taken aback. "Why would I do that?"


    Cecily let out a soft laugh. "So, Queen Mother didn''t tell you?"


    "Tell me what?" Liam asked, confusion creeping in.


    Cecily leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Well, many of the nobility have come tonight with¡­ special interest. The kind that''s not all about alliances or politics."


    Liam''s brow furrowed as the realization slowly dawned on him. "Special interest?" he repeated, his voice shifting to something more serious.


    "Mmhm¡­" Cecily gave him a teasing glance. "After the Rite, let''s just say, you''re a topic of interest¡­ among certain circles."


    Liam knitted his brows together, his mind racing. "You''re saying some of them are¡­ eyeing me?"


    Cecily raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps. The younger nobles¡ªespecially the ones from influential families ¡ª have noticed."


    Liam furrowed his brow, not quite understanding. "You''re not being clear. What do you mean?"


    "Nothing," Cecily chuckled, clearly enjoying his confusion.


    "Hey, wait¡ª" Liam started, but Cecily quickly turned and began walking away, a mischievous glint in her eye.


    Liam hesitated for a moment before chasing after her. He caught up with her in the corridor, gripping her arm gently to stop her.


    "Tell me," he spoke, his voice serious.


    Cecily''s grin widened, but she leaned in, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You''ll see."


    Before he could respond, he saw that they reached the grand hall corridor, where the noise of the gathering began to grow louder. They both quickly adjusted their tone, the playful tension evaporating as they entered the more formal space.


    Liam exhaled, shifting his focus back to the night ahead.


    The large doors loomed ahead, and as Liam entered the space, he saw many familiar faces ¡ª faces he had seen during the Rite, those who had observed him, measured him.


    But tonight, Liam was different. Tonight, he was not the uncertain prince standing on the edge of the abyss. He was confident, and poised. His mastery over Heart Frailty had given him a confidence, to hide his true power from all but the most observant of eyes.


    With a final glance at his sister, Liam stepped into the hall. He had the air of someone who was not just part of the royal family, but someone who belonged at the very center of it.

 Eve of Noah - II

    Liam scanned the grand hall. There were far too many eyes on him ¡ª some subtle, others less so. From barons to counts, the presence of so many distinguished figures struck him as unusual. Something was going on.


    His eyes settled on Edwin, who stood neatly in line with the other servants of House Orlean. Liam made his way over.


    "Edwin," he said in a low voice. "What''s going on?"


    Edwin''s expression tightened slightly. He hesitated before responding, "I want to tell you, Master Liam, but I can''t."


    Liam''s suspicion deepened. Edwin was not the type to withhold information unless he had no other choice.


    Something was off.


    The atmosphere of the banquet wasn''t how it should have been. The Eve of the Month End was a regular occasion, yet tonight, there was an unspoken tension. It wasn''t just the number of attendees ¡ª it was who was attending.


    Count Desmond, a man known for his strict adherence to tradition, was nowhere to be seen. He had never once excused himself from the banquet in past years, and yet, tonight, he was absent.


    Meanwhile, Duke Beckett, who had not attended the Eve Banquet this year, was present. Not only that, but he had gone so far as to offer a generous gift ¡ª the finest harvest from his vineyards ¡ª to be served at the banquet. It was an extravagant gesture, completely unlike him.


    And then there were the Marquesses. Some who rarely appeared were here, while others who typically never missed the event were absent. There was no discernible pattern, no consistency that would suggest this was a mere coincidence. If this was an official special occasion, the attendance would be more predictable. But this? This irregularity unsettled Liam.


    His thoughts were interrupted as a trio of nobles approached, each accompanied by their spouse and their daughters.


    "Prince Liam, it is truly an honor to meet you again," said Countess Lavern, a woman with sharp eyes and a dignified air. Her husband stood beside her, his expression polite.


    "The honor is mine, Countess," Liam replied with a courteous nod. "I trust your family is in good health?"


    "Indeed," she said smoothly, before gesturing toward her daughter, a young woman dressed in elegant silks. "This is my daughter, Lady Helena. She has heard much about you."


    Liam turned his attention to Helena, offering a slight thoughtful smile. "I hope only good things."


    Helena lowered her gaze, smiling softly. "Of course, Prince Liam."


    Before the conversation could proceed further, another noble stepped forward.


    "Prince Liam, we meet again," said Lord Warrick, a seasoned Count with a well-groomed beard and a heavy ceremonial cloak. "I must say, your presence at the Rite was nothing short of remarkable."


    "You flatter me, Lord Warrick," Liam said with practiced ease.


    A third noble, Baron Esteban, chimed in, "I would wager that tonight''s banquet will be a memorable one. You must allow us the pleasure of a longer conversation later in the evening."


    Liam inclined his head. "I look forward to it. Until then, I hope you all enjoy the banquet."


    The nobles exchanged a few more pleasantries before turning their attention elsewhere.


    Liam exhaled softly. These conversations felt less like casual greetings and more like careful maneuvering. The nobles were watching, evaluating, but what?


    Liam excused himself, to occupy a quiet area.


    Liam barely had a moment to himself before his sisters surrounded him.


    "You look good, brother," Cassandra mused, adjusting his collar slightly. "Almost like Father when he was younger."


    "You''re going to make quite the impression tonight," Evaline added, her eyes glinting with mischief.


    Elaine smirked. "And from the looks of it, I''d say you already have."


    Liam raised an eyebrow. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    "Oh, nothing." Cassandra waved a hand dismissively. "Just that there seem to be a lot of young noblewomen here tonight."


    Cecily giggled. "Told you."


    Liam was about to brush off their teasing when something clicked in his mind.


    Cecily''s teasing in the corridor. His elder sisters vaguely hinting at something. Edwin refused to tell him what was going on. From knights to barons, all the way to Duke Beckett ¡ª everyone present was accompanied by their family. More specifically, every family had at least one daughter with them.


    Liam''s thoughts turned back to the nobles who had spoken to him. They had all been accompanied by their daughters. Every single one.


    And the ones who were absent? They didn''t want anything to do with me.


    A slow realization settled over him.


    The nobility who valued mana talent, who saw no worth in a prince without exceptional magical potential, had excused themselves from attending.


    Duke Beckett, a man who had never once attended an Eve Banquet, was here tonight ¡ª offering his finest vineyard harvest. He was here to strengthen ties with the royal family.


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    Liam exhaled slowly. So that''s what this is.


    His mother¡­


    He glanced toward the gilded dais.


    But then, a shift rippled through the hall.


    The queens had arrived.


    The moment they entered, the nobles quickly adjusted their postures, diverting their attention to the royal consorts. Liam took this moment to compose himself. Tonight, he would need to remain extra vigilant.


    The room fell into respectful silence as Queen Isabella stepped forward to address the gathered nobility.


    "Tonight," she began, her voice carrying through the hall with effortless grace, "we honor the beginning of the Month of Noah. As we stand beneath the new moon, we remember the legacy of King Noah Winston, the ninth ruler of our great empire. His wisdom, his leadership, and his relentless pursuit of unity shaped the very foundation of Ironhelm as we know it today."


    A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.


    "In his time, he forged alliances that strengthened our borders. He cultivated prosperity that ensured our people thrived. And so, on this night, we raise a toast in gratitude ¡ª to his vision, his achievements, and the kingdom he helped build."


    She lifted her goblet, and the entire hall followed in unison.


    "To King Noah."


    "To King Noah!" the nobility echoed, their voices ringing in harmony.


    As the moment of tribute passed, the conversations in the hall resumed, the air still buzzing with quiet reverence.


    Liam, however, found himself staring at his mother.


    He hadn''t been prepared for this.


    She''s trying to arrange a marriage for me.


    He almost laughed ¡ª almost.


    Mother¡­ I am just a child.


    But before he could dwell on it further, a small group of noble children, clearly gathering their courage, approached him.


    They offered polite bows and curtsies before introducing themselves, their expressions a mix of admiration and nervousness.


    Liam straightened his posture, schooling his features.


    His sisters weren''t letting up.


    "Oh, look at them," Evaline whispered, nudging Elaine. "They''re adorable."


    "They seem nervous," Cassandra noted with an amused smile. "It''s sweet, isn''t it?"


    "It really is," Elaine agreed, grinning at Liam. "You''re quite popular tonight."


    Liam felt his jaw tighten. How am I supposed to respond to this?


    The noble girls in front of him were standing prim and proper, their expressions carefully composed, but there was a nervous energy between them. Some avoided his gaze entirely, while others stole glances his way, waiting ¡ª expecting him to say something.


    The weight of their attention, combined with his sisters'' stifled laughter, made Liam feel like a cornered animal.


    He needed to escape.


    But how?


    He couldn''t just walk away ¡ª that would be too obvious, and worse, it might be seen as an insult.


    Feigning illness? No, that would bring more concern.


    A distraction? Perhaps, but what¡ª


    Then, an idea struck him.


    Liam turned slightly to his youngest sister, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Cecily," he muttered. "I need you to do something for me."


    Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh? What''s in it for me?"


    "How about not getting lessons," Liam replied flatly.


    "Ugh¡­Deal."


    A second later, Cecily let out a small gasp, her expression instantly shifting to one of exaggerated surprise.


    "Oh, Brother look!" she said dramatically, grasping his arm. "Did you see presents over there? Over there, by the banquet table ¡ª Father''s send you a gift!"


    Liam blinked. Father''s gift?


    Before he could question her, she tugged at his sleeve insistently, drawing the attention of those around them.


    "We have to go check!" Cecily continued, practically bouncing on her feet. "It''s something special, isn''t it? I heard it''s ¡ª oh, never mind, I can''t spoil it! Let''s go!"


    The noble girls exchanged curious glances. Even his sisters looked intrigued.


    Liam didn''t hesitate. He gave a polite nod to those around him. "If you''ll excuse me," he said smoothly, "I must attend to something."


    Then, without waiting for a response, he let Cecily drag him away.


    The moment they were out of earshot, he exhaled in relief. "That was quick thinking."


    "I know." Cecily grinned. "You owe me."


    Liam shot her a look. "For what? Making up a lie?"


    "Oh, please, its here" She waved a letter dismissively. "Even if I was lying ¡ª which I wasn''t ¡ª you still needed saving. So, you''re welcome."


    Liam sighed but couldn''t argue. For now, at least, he was free.


    "Liam," her voice was soft but firm. "What are you doing here?"


    Isabella''s presence alone was enough to make Liam freeze in place.


    Cecily stiffened beside him, but Liam quickly composed himself and turned to face his mother. "I needed some air," he answered carefully.


    She studied him for a moment before speaking again. "Walk with me."


    Liam hesitated but nodded. Cecily gave him a curious glance but said nothing as he followed Queen Isabella into a quieter corridor away from the grand hall. The distant hum of conversation faded, leaving only the faint echoes of their footsteps against the polished floor.


    Liam took a slow breath, gathering his thoughts. Then, he finally spoke.


    "Mother¡­ why are you doing this?"


    She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Doing what?"


    His brows furrowed. "You know what I mean." He stopped walking and faced her directly. "Why are you trying to have me engaged?"


    A flicker of something ¡ªamusement, perhaps ¡ª crossed her face.


    Liam frowned. "You''re not denying it."


    She turned to face him fully, her gaze calm and measured. "Liam, I didn''t question you when you forfeited your claim to the throne," she said. "I accepted your choice without protest. But I will not stand by and watch you isolate yourself in future."


    Liam''s hands clenched at his sides. "And you think this is the best way? By arranging a match for me?"


    She tilted her head slightly. "It is for your own good."


    A bitter chuckle escaped him. "For my good? Or for the family''s?"


    Isabella exhaled softly. "Liam, whether you acknowledge it or not, you are still a prince of this empire. That carries weight ¡ª responsibility."


    "An arranged contract," Liam muttered, shaking his head. "That''s all this is, isn''t it? The noble families get closer ties to the royal bloodline, and I¡ª" he let out a dry laugh, "¡ªI, the boy with no talent, get a consort."


    She didn''t respond immediately.


    Liam''s gaze darkened. "And what about her?" he asked quietly. "Whoever she may be. What future does she have? Is she just supposed to accept it? Does she have to suffer because of her parents'' ambitions?"


    Isabella''s lips parted slightly, but no words came.


    Just as Liam turned to leave, Isabella finally spoke, her voice softer now, laced with something rare¡ªvulnerability.


    "Liam¡­ I am worried about you."


    He stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back to her.


    She took a step closer. "Do you know what pains me the most?" she asked, her gaze searching his. "It''s not that you abandoned the throne race. It''s not even that you struggle against the expectations placed upon you." Her expression tightened. "It''s watching you, day by day, lose hope in every ambition you once had. It''s seeing you fade into something lesser than what you could be."


    Liam''s throat tightened. " I¡ª "


    "You are becoming a mortal, Liam," she said quietly. "And it terrifies me."


    He stared at her.


    Isabella shook her head. "Only if someone could aid you, guide you¡­ maybe then¡­" she trailed off.


    Liam swallowed hard. He forced a small smile. "I''m fine, Mother."


    Her sharp gaze didn''t waver.


    "I mean it," he insisted. "I am happy. You don''t have to worry about me."


    A bitter chuckle left his lips. "I am content with my life. Father said he has hopes that I''ll be a Champion one day." His voice steadied. "I''m not going to be a mortal."


    For a moment, Isabella said nothing. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.


    Liam stiffened in surprise. His mother had always been composed, strong ¡ª a force of nature in her own right. This moment of warmth, of raw emotion, was unexpected.


    Slowly, he returned the embrace.


    After a moment, he spoke. "Mother¡­ about the letter."


    She pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on his shoulders. A knowing look crossed her face.


    "Your father sent it to you," she said simply.


    Liam''s heart skipped a beat. "Father?"


    She nodded. "It arrived earlier this week."


    His mind raced. His father never sent letters directly to him. What could this possibly mean?

 Eve of Noah - III

    Liam returned to the banquet hall, but his thoughts were still on the letter. What was it ¡ª an invitation, a request, an expectation?


    Still, he carried himself with composure. As nobles approached him with pleasantries and thinly veiled intentions, he responded with the same polite grace.


    As the banquet continued, Liam found himself subtly cornered by a small group of noble families. Among them was Countess Evelyne Rosmond, a woman of sharp poise and keen political instincts. She stood beside her daughter, a girl no older than ten, dressed in a gown of deep lavender.


    "Prince Liam," Countess Caresaa greeted with a graceful smile. "What a pleasure it is to see you attending the Eve. My daughter, Lady Celina, has long admired your presence at court but never had the chance to introduce herself properly."


    The young girl hesitated, clearly flustered, before offering a small curtsy. "I-It''s an honor, Prince Liam," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Liam smiled politely. "The honor is mine, Lady Celina. I trust you''re enjoying the evening?"


    "Yes! Very much so," she replied quickly, glancing toward her mother as if seeking approval.


    Before the silence could settle, another noble interjected. Duke Reynard Langston, a man well past his prime but still sharp in wit, gently nudged his daughter, Lady Vivienne, forward. She was older than Celina, perhaps twelve, with golden curls that framed her face elegantly.


    "Prince Liam, I must say, my daughter has taken quite the interest in the art of statecraft. A rare trait, don''t you think? She would love to hear your thoughts on governance and the affairs of the kingdom," the Duke stated, his eyes gleaming with expectation.


    Vivienne, to her credit, managed a confident smile. "Perhaps one day, I might learn from your wisdom, Prince Liam."


    Liam resisted the urge to sigh. It was subtle, but the intent was clear ¡ª these noble families were parading their daughters before him, each one hoping to catch his interest.


    He glanced around, realizing that nearly every noble present had come accompanied by a daughter of marriageable age. Some families that were usually absent from such gatherings had made a rare appearance, while others who had nothing to gain from him had conveniently excused themselves from the event.


    Liam maintained his composure, offering courteous yet noncommittal responses. "I''m sure there is much you can learn, Lady Vivienne. Ironhelm''s governance is complex, but those with a keen mind will always find their place in its history."


    A safe answer, neither encouraging nor dismissing.


    The conversation continued in this manner, with noble after noble subtly maneuvering their daughters into his presence. Some were shy, others bold, but all were here for the same reason.


    Liam smiled and exchanged pleasantries, but inwardly, he sighed.


    He had been carefully placed in the center of a marriage arrangement disguised as a banquet. And his mother was behind it all.


    His discomfort never surfaced; his expression remained composed. He endured the evening, humbly acknowledging those who spoke to him, neither encouraging nor rejecting their interest.


    Finally, as the eve drew to an end, Liam excused himself and made his way back to his chambers.


    Standing on his balcony, he gazed at the night sky. His eyes settled on the sealed letter in his grasp.


    With steady hands, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His father''s words awaited him.


    To my son, Liam Orlean,


    I trust this letter finds you in good health.


    You have chosen your path, and as your father, I will not stand in your way. You have forfeited your claim to the throne, and with it, the weight of ruling. However, that does not mean you are free from responsibility. The blood of Ironhelm still runs through your veins, and with that comes duty ¡ª duty to understand the land that has nurtured you, the people who look to you, and the forces that shape our empire.


    Since you have formally relinquished your claim to the throne, it is only fitting that you begin preparing for the life that awaits you beyond it. You are still a prince of Ironhelm, and as such, your understanding of the empire''s workings must not be neglected.


    I wish for you to enroll in the Arthur Royal Institute. It is there that you will learn the ways of Ironhelm ¡ª not as a ruler, but as one who must still serve and strengthen the empire. You will study its governance, its diplomacy, its traditions, and its strengths. Knowledge, Liam, is power in its own right, and I will not have my son remain ignorant of the world around him.


    During your time there, you will be under the guidance of Archmage Caelus, Master of the Azure Spire. He is a man of great wisdom and experience as you know, and I have arranged for him to oversee your studies personally. However, you must still earn your place within the institute through proper evaluation.


    I do not ask this of you as your king, nor as one who dictates your future. I ask this as your father.


    I hope you will consider my request with the thoughtfulness I know you possess.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Elijah Orlean


    King of Ironhelm


    The letter bore the royal seal.


    *


    The grand dining hall was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, sweet fruits, and rich, steaming tea. Liam sat at the long table, surrounded by his sisters and the queens, who, much to his dismay, seemed just as interested in his answer as his siblings.


    Seated at the head of the table, Queen Isabella watched him with a knowing expression, her fingers lightly resting on the rim of her teacup. Across from her, Queen Seraphina smiled as she elegantly sliced a piece of fruit, while Queen Elara observed with her usual composed demeanor.


    Cecily, as always, was the first to push. "So, dear brother, who was your favorite?"


    Liam, who had just taken a sip of his tea, nearly choked. He set his cup down carefully. "Favorite?" He feigned ignorance.


    "Don''t play dumb, Liam," Elaine interjected, grinning. "The banquet last night? The lovely noble daughters who were oh-so-eager to speak with you?"


    Evaline giggled. "Some of them looked so nervous. It was adorable."


    "I spoke to many people last night," Liam replied, keeping his voice neutral. "That''s all it was ¡ª conversation."


    "Oh, come now, Liam," Isabella finally spoke, her voice carrying the soft authority of a mother who knew everything. "It was clear that many were eager to make an impression on you."


    "Exactly," Cassandra chimed in. "Lady Celina could barely speak in full sentences around you."


    "Or maybe Lady Vivienne Langston?" Elaine added. "She was rather confident. Do you prefer bold women, Liam?"


    Queen Seraphina chuckled softly, setting her fork down. "It would be interesting to know what kind of woman my son favors."


    Liam sighed. "I wasn''t choosing a bride. I was just trying to survive the night."


    Queen Elara, ever the calm observer, finally spoke. "You understood the true purpose of last night''s gathering?"


    Liam exhaled. "I did." His gaze flickered to Isabella. "Mother made sure of it."


    Isabella met his stare without hesitation. "Of course I did."


    She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Since you''ve forfeited your claim to the throne, there are fewer reasons for noble houses to form political alliances with you. However, you are still a prince of Ironhelm and a son of mine. That alone makes you a highly sought-after match."


    Liam leaned back, rubbing his temple. "And those who weren''t interested in me didn''t even bother to attend."


    "Exactly," Cassandra said approvingly.


    Seraphina smiled. "But many did attend. The daughters of dukes, marquesses, and counts alike. All with the hopes of catching your interest."


    "Or rather," Liam corrected, "with the hopes of securing a connection to the royal family."


    Elara inclined her head. "And is that so wrong?"


    Liam fell silent for a moment before replying, "I think I''m too young to be thinking about it."


    "That won''t stop Mother," Cassandra chuckled under her breath.


    Isabella merely smiled. "You''ll understand in time."


    Cecily leaned in, grinning. "Well, if you need help sorting through your admirers, you know who to ask."


    Liam gave her a flat look. "I think I''ll manage."


    His sisters laughed, while the queens exchanged glances, each with their thoughts on the matter. One thing was clear ¡ª this conversation was far from over.


    Liam placed his fork down, his appetite waning as his thoughts solidified. He turned to Queen Isabella.


    "Mother," he said, "I''ve decided ¡ª I''ll be going to the Arthur Royal Institute."


    A brief flicker of satisfaction passed through Isabella''s eyes, but she didn''t appear surprised. Instead, she nodded as if she had expected this all along.


    "So, Father''s letter was persuasive," she mused, taking a slow sip of tea.


    Liam studied her carefully. "You knew about it."


    "Of course," she admitted. "Did you think your father wouldn''t inform me of his wishes?"


    He frowned slightly. "You weren''t shocked when I mentioned it just now. Almost as if you had planned for me to come to this decision."


    She smiled. "I was merely giving you the opportunity to reach the conclusion yourself."


    A sigh escaped him as he leaned back in his chair. "I should''ve known."


    "Then you''re learning," Isabella said, her tone amused.


    Liam tapped a finger against the table, thinking. "This banquet¡­ it wasn''t just to parade noble daughters in front of me, was it?"


    "Oh? What else do you think it was for?"


    Liam''s eyes darkened slightly as he pieced it together. The banquet had been an introduction ¡ª a subtle arrangement, carefully woven into the traditions of the Eve of Noah. The nobility had brought their daughters to meet him, not just for marriage prospects, but because¡­


    "They''ll all be at the Institute," he realized.


    Isabella''s silence was answer enough.


    Liam clenched his jaw. "So, every girl I spoke to last night ¡ª every daughter presented to me ¡ª wasn''t just a potential suitor. They''re part of noble houses that intend to send their children to Arthur Royal Institute. Meaning, I''ll be seeing them again."


    "Most of them, yes," Isabella confirmed. "Apart from your elder brothers who have their paths set, the Institute is the place of learning and opportunity for every nobility and special child of Ironhelm." She tilted her head slightly. "And daughters? Well, a royal connection is valuable, whether through marriage or simple association."


    Liam exhaled slowly. "You''re telling me I can''t avoid them even if I wanted to."


    Isabella''s smile deepened. "It would be unwise to ignore them completely. Some of them might prove¡­ useful."


    Liam ran a hand through his hair. "Wonderful."


    Cecily stifled a laugh beside him. "Looks like you won''t be lonely at the Institute, dear brother."


    Evaline grinned. "Oh, imagine the excitement when they all see you again."


    Liam shot them both a withering look. "You''re enjoying this too much."


    Isabella simply sipped her tea, satisfied. "Then it''s settled. You''ll enroll in the Royal Institute."


    Liam glanced at his mother once more. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became ¡ª this was always her intent. A subtle nudge, an evening of carefully placed suitors, and now, a path that would entangle him in noble politics whether he wanted it or not.


    He sighed again. I really walked into this one, didn''t I?


    Liam straightened in his seat and asked, "When would I be leaving, Mother?"


    Isabella set her teacup down delicately. "You will depart in a few days," she said. "Your sisters will be accompanying you."


    Cecily, who had been idly swirling her spoon in her tea, suddenly paused. "Wait," she said slowly, lifting her head. "Which sisters?"


    Isabella turned to her with a composed smile. "Cassandra, Elaine, Evaline, and Cecily¡ª"


    Cecily''s expression brightened for a fleeting moment before Isabella continued, "¡ªwill remain here."


    The air around the table shifted.


    "What?" Cecily blinked, stunned. "What do you mean ''remain here''?"


    Liam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like someone assumed too much."


    Cecily shot him a glare. "Brother!" Then she turned back to Elara, her voice growing more insistent. "Why am I not going, mother?"


    Cecily''s expression fell as the realization hit her.


    Queen Elara offered a gentle smile. "Not yet, Cecily. You still have a few more years before you''re eligible."


    Cecily turned to Liam with wide eyes. "Brother¡ª!"


    Liam smirked.


    Cecily pouted, crossing her arms. "That''s not fair! Why do they get to go with you, but I don''t?"


    Liam reached out and ruffled her hair. "Don''t worry. I''ll visit whenever I can."


    Cecily huffed but didn''t argue. Instead, she muttered under her breath, still sulking.


    Isabella watched the exchange with a faint smile. "Then it''s settled. The four of you will prepare for departure soon."


    Liam exhaled, his thoughts already shifting to what awaited him at the Institute. Whether he liked it or not, his path had been decided.

 Journey Through The Three Kingdoms - I

    In the cool evening air of the First Night of Noah, the three princesses stood poised at the polished stone path of the enchanted Iron Palace gates ¡ª Cassandra, Evaline, and Elaine. The golden glow of the palace lanterns bathed them in warm light, highlighting the elegance of their regal attire. Behind them, their mothers ¡ª Queen Isabella, Queen Seraphina, and Queen Elara ¡ª watched in quiet anticipation.


    Tonight, they, along with Prince Liam, were set to depart from the palace for Arthur Royal Institute. However, one presence was notably absent.


    "Where is Liam?" Evaline snapped, glancing around impatiently. "We''re leaving soon."


    Elaine sighed. "She was sulking all morning. I doubt he got through to her."


    Evaline crossed her arms, leaning against the carriage frame. "She shut herself in her room this afternoon and wouldn''t open the door for anyone. Not even for Queen Mother."


    Cassandra shook her head. "Not surprising. She''s stubborn when she wants to be."


    Isabella exhaled softly, her gaze drifting toward the palace. "Liam stood outside her door for hours," she murmured. "He didn''t leave, last time I checked."


    Seraphina''s brows lifted slightly. "He''s still waiting?"


    Before anyone could say more, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor.


    Liam emerged, his expression calm, as he approached.


    Elara studied him closely. "How did it go?"


    Liam exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I tried," he said simply. "She wouldn''t answer."


    Cassandra sighed, shaking her head. "I tried to console her earlier, but she wouldn''t listen. She just buried herself in her pillows and refused to speak."


    Evaline huffed. "We told her it was important, that we have to go ¡ª but she still insists on throwing a tantrum. It''s not as if we''re leaving forever."


    Elaine crossed her arms. "She''s acting like a child."


    Liam, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke. "You have to understand, sister. Cecily will be all alone now, with only our mothers. Before, she at least had me around, even if we didn''t speak often."


    Listening to his words, the sisters exchanged glances, their expressions softened.


    Isabella glanced at her children, her gaze lingering on each of them before she spoke to Liam. "Liam, you''re stepping into a new chapter of your lives. The institute will test you, but it will also shape you into the person you''re meant to be."


    "Girls, support him and each other and do not forget ¡ª who you are." Isabella gave a warning look.


    Evaline smirked. "Of course, Queen Mother. But I doubt he will need much help."


    Elaine rolled her eyes. "Confidence is one thing, arrogance is another."


    Cassandra chuckled. "And yet, you both have plenty of both."


    Before the conversation could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them. Butler Edwin arrived, bowing deeply before addressing the queens. "Your Majesties, the skyway has been secured. We are ready for departure at your command."


    Isabella turned to Liam, noting the concern in his eyes. She could see the weight of his thoughts ¡ª the uncertainty of leaving, the worry for Cecily, the unspoken words he wanted to say. Placing a hand gently on his shoulder, she reassured him, "I will speak with Cecily, Liam. She will understand in time."


    Queen Elara nodded in agreement. "We will make sure she is well."


    Liam let out a quiet breath, nodding. It wasn''t a perfect answer, but it was enough for now.


    Isabella then turned to Edwin. "Bring the carriage."


    Edwin bowed. "At once, Your Majesty."


    Moments later, a distant, high-pitched shriek pierced the night air, followed by a deep, resonant roar. The sound echoed across the palace grounds as the wind stirred.


    Liam looked up. In the sky above, the outline of a grand flying carriage emerged from the darkness, its form gradually becoming visible as it broke free from its concealed state. Moments ago, it had been nothing more than a shadow against the night, hidden beneath a veil of magic that distorted light around it. Now, as it drew closer, the soft golden glow of its interior lanterns flickered through its frosted windows, illuminating its elegant frame.


    Beneath the carriage, a trail of glittering frozen ice stretched out like an ethereal bridge, crackling softly as it formed and dissolved beneath the wheels. The enchanted path left behind a faint mist, swirling in the air before vanishing into nothingness.


    At the front, harnessed in silver chains engraved with runes, soared a pair of magnificent creatures ¡ª winged beasts with sleek, feathered bodies and sharp, ivory beaks that gleamed under the lantern light. Their plumage shimmered with hues of silver and deep blue, shifting like liquid metal with every beat of their powerful wings. Skyvails were creatures of myth, rarely seen outside of royal affairs, their presence only adding to the spectacle of the arrival.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The grand enchanted gates of the palace opened soundlessly, parting like veils of mist. As if guided by unseen hands, the carriage descended smoothly onto the waiting pathway below. Its intricate frame gleamed under the moonlight, casting shifting patterns upon the polished stone.


    From the side, Edwin approached Queen Isabella and bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, they are ready."


    A quiet breath passed between them. Isabella nodded. Beside her, Seraphina glanced toward the carriage, her expression unreadable, while Elara, though composed, could not completely mask the sadness in her eyes.


    The moment had arrived.


    Isabella and Seraphina embraced their children tightly, their warmth lingering even as they pulled away. Liam, standing at the edge of the group, turned for one final glance at the towering palace. A thought drifted through his mind¡ªCecily. He had expected to see her before leaving, but she was nowhere in sight.


    Then, a sharp cry split the night.


    "Brother!"


    A blur of motion¡ªsmall, desperate, and fast. Cecily came running, her footsteps hurried and uneven, her nightgown billowing behind her.


    Liam kneeled slightly before she crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him, trembling.


    Her sobs were loud, unrestrained, and filled with the weight of childish grief. Her small fists clutched at his tunic, her face buried against him. Warm tears soaked into the fabric, and with them ¡ª snot. A lot of it.


    Liam sighed, gently placing a hand on her head. He stroked her hair, his fingers threading through the soft strands, offering silent comfort.


    "You''ll be alright, Cecily. It''s only a few months before the new year. And I promise, I''ll write to you."


    But Cecily shook her head violently against him. "No, I ab not ¡ª," she choked between sobs.


    Liam wiped at her damp, tear-streaked cheeks with his sleeve, though it did little against the mess she had made.


    "I''ll be back, sooner than I am leaving." His voice was steady, but he was concerned at the sight of her. "And when I return, I expect you to be stronger, alright?"


    Cecily sniffled loudly, her lip trembling. "You will write every week?"


    Liam exhaled, then pressed his forehead lightly against hers. "Every week."


    She clung to him a little longer, as if memorizing the warmth of his presence, before finally loosening her grip.


    As she pulled back, Liam''s gaze flickered downward, catching sight of the small star shaped charm tied around her wrist ¡ª the same one he had given after his ceremony.


    "You''re wearing it?" he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly over the charm.


    Cecily sniffled, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. "Of course I am," she mumbled. "You gave it to me."


    A faint smile tugged at Liam''s lips. "It suits you."


    Queen Isabella smiled at the exchange. "It will pass faster than you think, Cecily. And when it''s your turn, you''ll be more than ready."


    From behind them, the carriage door remained open, waiting.


    Cassandra knelt beside one of the Skyvailes, gently offering it a handful of nuts. The creature let out a series of cheerful, warbling noises, its sharp beak clicking excitedly as it pecked at the treat.


    As she stroked its soft plumage, she glanced at Edwin, a playful smile on her lips. "If I were to take a familiar, I think I''d choose him."


    Edwin blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, with a polite but amused chuckle, he shook his head. "I''m afraid that can''t happen, Princess. Even if it is only close to you and simply follow the orders of the carriage driver, It can''t be separated from his pair."


    Cassandra''s gaze flickered toward the other Skyvail, standing a short distance away. Unlike the first, this one remained still, its posture rigid, its sharp eyes watching her with a hint of irritation.


    With careful steps, she approached it, extending her hand with more nuts. "And what about you?" she murmured.


    The Skyvail didn''t move. It simply stared at her, unblinking.


    Cassandra sighed. "Figures."


    Meanwhile, Liam and the girls had already entered the carriage. Outside, the servants moved efficiently, lifting their respective luggage into another carriage, where the guarding knights of the fleet would ensure its safety.


    Edwin stepped away, exchanging places with the designated carriage puller of the royal children''s transport. He adjusted his gloves before giving Liam a respectful nod. "I''ll be the one taking you there, Master Liam."


    Liam gave a simple nod in return.


    Before the carriage could move, Isabella stepped forward, placing a firm yet gentle hand on Liam''s shoulder. "This will be your first time outside the palace, Liam," she reminded him. "You are no longer just a prince within the castle walls¡ªyou will be among nobles, scholars, and instructors who expect discipline and proper conduct."


    Liam met her gaze, listening attentively.


    "You may not hold a claim to the throne, but your name still carries weight," she continued. "The people of Ironhelm will watch you, as they do all of your brothers and sisters. How you carry yourself will reflect upon the royal family."


    Liam nodded. "I understand, Mother."


    Isabella turned to Cassandra. "Help him adjust." Her voice softened just a little. "He''s the only prince attending the institute, and while our family''s status is absolute, there will be those who seek to test him, to push him aside. Do not let them."


    Cassandra smirked. "I''d like to see them try."


    Isabella sighed. "Cassandra."


    Cassandra shrugged. "Alright, alright. I''ll look out for him." She cast a glance at Liam. "Though I doubt he''ll need my help."


    Liam, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "Don''t worry, Mother. I promise I won''t create conflict."


    "They better not, or they''ll hear from me."


    Mother is no pushover. Anyone who thought otherwise would learn that lesson the hard way, Liam thought to himself


    A little ways off, Seraphina was giving Evaline and Elaine a quiet but firm lesson of her own. "Be mindful of your studies, and do not let yourselves be distracted by frivolities," she instructed. "You are royal daughters of Ironhelm ¡ª carry yourselves with grace and intelligence."


    Elara, meanwhile, knelt beside Cecily, rubbing small circles on her back as the young girl sniffled against her shoulder. "He will return," she whispered soothingly. "You''ll see him again before you even realize how much time has passed."


    The carriage finally began to move.


    As it rolled forward, the children all turned to the same window, their hands lifting in unison to wave. The queens stood side by side, watching them depart, while Cecily, her face still damp with tears, waved frantically.


    "Reach safely, you kids!" Isabella called out.


    "We will!" they answered in unison.


    Liam leaned slightly forward, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Take care of yourself, Cecily!"


    Cecily''s voice was lost in the wind, but her arm never stopped moving.


    Then, the carriage picked up pace.


    Inside the pulling chamber, Edwin exhaled softly. Lifting a hand, he called upon his magic ¡ª Mistic Freeze. Ice began to manifest beneath the carriage wheels, a thin crystalline layer forming along the path. However, he was careful not to let it touch the Skyvails.


    A shudder passed through the carriage. Then, with a gentle yet unmistakable force, it began to lift. The Skyvailes spread their massive wings, the air rippling beneath them as they beat in perfect synchrony, propelling the carriage higher into the night sky.


    The palace grounds shrank below them, the glowing lights of the kingdom stretching far beyond. The wind rushed past, cool and crisp, carrying them forward into the night.

 Journey Through The Three Kingdoms - II

    Under the camouflage, the carriage soared in the high skies, hidden from sight by layers of magic that distorted the light around it. The wind howled past, yet within the enchanted interior, all was still ¡ª silent except for the faint hum of the runes lining the walls. The Orlean children sat in anticipation, each occupied by their own thoughts.


    Liam kept his gaze fixed beyond the window, though nothing but an endless stretch of clouds greeted him. His mind lingered on the words of his father''s letter, on the expectations that loomed ahead. He had given up his claim to the throne, yet still, he was being called upon. Would he ever be allowed to simply exist as himself?


    Beside him, Cassandra sat with poise, her golden hair illuminated by the faint glow of the carriage''s runes. Unlike Liam, she was untroubled, her eyes scanning a book she had brought along. She had always been that way ¡ª composed, calculating, the weight of her lineage carried with quiet grace.


    Elaine, seated across from them, fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "Do we really have to fly this high?" she asked, glancing toward Edwin. Her voice cut through the silence.


    "Yes, Princess Elaine" Edwin replied simply.


    Elaine frowned. "Why?"


    Before Edwin could answer, Cassandra, who had been reading silently, sighed and turned a page in her book. "You''re still afraid of heights?"


    Elaine huffed. "No! It''s just¡­ what if something goes wrong?"


    Cassandra didn''t even look up. "Then we fall."


    Elaine shot her a glare, clearly unimpressed with the answer, but said nothing more.


    Liam, curious, leaned forward and slid open the small window that connected the carriage''s main chamber to the puller''s chamber. "Edwin," he called, his voice steady, "can''t we lower it a little? Sister Elaine is a little uncomfortable."


    Edwin''s calm voice responded. "I''m afraid we can''t, Master Liam."


    Liam raised a brow. "Why not?"


    "The whole fleet is following protocol," Edwin explained. "And, to be honest, it''s not even about security. The skyvails and I can conserve much more energy at this altitude."


    Liam perked up slightly at that. "How does that work?"


    "The air is thinner here, meaning less resistance for the skyvails," Edwin said. "They expend far less effort maintaining speed. Plus, the cold helps with mist-ice formation. Even though it''s nighttime, we could still do it in the day if needed."


    Cassandra hummed in understanding, but Elaine still looked skeptical. "Then why not go even higher?"


    Edwin chuckled. "Because there''s no air up there. No resistance, true ¡ª but also no breath for us."


    Elaine sank back into her seat, muttering, "I knew that."


    Evaline giggled.


    Liam leaned back against his seat, turning to Cassandra. "Sister, how long until we reach the Institute?"


    Cassandra barely lifted her gaze from her book. "About a quarter of a day."


    Liam exhaled softly, then shifted to the window, peering down. Through the layers of mist, faint glimmers of light flickered far below. A thought crossed his mind, and he asked, "What about the skyvails outside? Don''t they need air like we do?"


    Edwin''s voice came through from the puller''s chamber. "Master Liam, unlike us, they can go even higher. They''re adapted for this altitude."


    Liam watched closely, trying to spot the creatures pulling their carriage, but Edwin''s chamber made it difficult to see them clearly. Instead, his eyes caught something beyond the clouds ¡ª an illuminated city in the distance, and above it, a massive tower piercing the sky.


    "What''s that?" he asked, curiosity sparking in his voice.


    Evaline leaned forward, glancing through the window. "Oh, we''ve reached Marnem City. That''s where the Azure Spire is."


    Liam''s gaze lingered on the towering structure. "That''s where Master Caelus is?"


    Evaline shook her head. "Now? No. He''s mostly at the Institute. But yeah, he does have to go there from time to time. He is the Spire Master, after all."


    Liam thought for a moment. "If I had to come here from the Institute, it would take six hours?"


    "No."


    "No?" Liam repeated, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yeah," Evaline said with a smirk.


    Liam frowned. "How does that work?"


    "Well, when we catch the winds from the north, a separate skyway. It''s much faster."


    "Then why don''t we use it now?"


    "Because we''d be riding the upstream, dummy," Evaline teased.


    Liam rolled his eyes, then asked Edwin, "So which route are we using?"


    "The Skyway of the Three Kingdoms, Master Liam" Edwin replied.


    Liam frowned slightly. He inquired, "Three Kingdoms?"


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    Cassandra finally looked up from her book and nodded. "Yes. We''re about to enter the borders of Arvandor, then later we''ll climb up north toward Valtoria before reaching the institute."


    Liam frowned. "Why Arvandor? Isn''t it south?" he asked. "And why Valtoria? It''s east. Why go through all this just to head north?"


    Cassandra finally placed her book aside with a sigh. "It''s going to be a lot of questions, isn''t it?"


    Liam said nothing, waiting patiently for his answer.


    Elaine was the one to speak first. "It''s the trade winds up here."


    Evaline picked up where her twin left off. "They run in mysterious ways."


    Elaine continued, "One of them takes us close to the Institute up north."


    Evaline finished, "It runs like this."


    Liam glanced between them as they spoke in perfect sync, each picking up seamlessly where the other left off. Then Cassandra spoke again, now fully engaged in the conversation.


    "If we don''t take the trade wind in its entirety and instead try to reach its continuation point from our kingdom''s border, that alone would take six hours altogether."


    Liam considered that for a moment, then asked, "Don''t we have some degree of conflict with Valtoria?"


    Elaine replied with a small smirk. "That''s why Edwin secured the skyway." She continued, "He took a permit. Besides, if Valtoria wants to trade with the northern regions of our kingdom, they have to use the same downstream we use to come back. That route is much faster."


    Cassandra nodded. "And that alone is enough to grant us access to their kingdom. They wouldn''t dare make trouble for us."


    Liam leaned back against his seat, absorbing the information. It seemed their route wasn''t just about speed ¡ª it was also about politics.


    Cassandra glanced at Liam and said, "Look down in an hour. We''re about to reach the borders."


    Liam waited eagerly, his anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, as the time approached, he leaned toward the window, peering below.


    A breathtaking sight greeted him ¡ª a massive wall stretching endlessly in both directions, standing as an unyielding divider between Ironhelm and Arvandor. Even from high above, he could make out the glow of scattered lights on both sides of the structure.


    "Campfires," Elaine murmured, noticing his curiosity. "The military forces of both nations are on guard. Even in times of peace, no one lets their defenses down completely."


    Liam studied the flickering lights, each one a sign of soldiers keeping watch through the night. Though the border was officially stable, history had proven that stability could shift in an instant.


    Then, suddenly, he felt it ¡ª the pull of the trade wind. The carriage surged forward, the landscape below blurring as their speed increased dramatically. Within moments, the great wall had vanished from sight, lost to the distance.


    "Now you can feel how fast we''re actually moving, huh?" Evaline spoke seeing Liam''s reaction.


    Liam nodded in quiet awe. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before.


    "Marnem was the last city toward the south," Evaline continued. "And soon, we''ll reach Erqshire ¡ª the first city of Arvandor via this skyway."


    From afar, Erqshire''s architecture and city planning looked distinctly different from the structured, fortified designs of Ironhelm. The buildings were arranged in a more organic, almost flowing pattern, with curved rooftops and wide open plazas. Unlike Ironhelm''s towering stone fortresses, Erqshire''s structures blended seamlessly into the land, as though the city had grown naturally over time rather than being imposed upon it.


    Liam narrowed his eyes at the sight and asked, "Arvandor looks so different from our kingdom. They''re neutral, right?"


    Cassandra nodded. "Yes. Arvandor has always maintained neutrality, focusing on trade and diplomacy rather than war."


    Evaline added, "But Valtoria? That''s a bit tense."


    Elaine sighed. "They claim Ironhelm violated past treaties, and there''s always friction at the border. It''s not an open conflict, but neither side fully trusts the other."


    Liam absorbed the information, then shifted topics. "What about the Institute? How does enrollment work?"


    Cassandra smirked. "Well, you''d be in your first year, obviously."


    Evaline chimed in. "But you''ve been given special enrollment."


    Liam raised a brow. "Special enrollment?"


    Elaine nodded. "You''re the only one enrolling this late into the first year. You probably have about four months left to cover everything."


    Liam blinked. "What?"


    Cassandra shrugged. "Yeah. Students who are about to turn thirteen in the year of enrollment ¡ª or are already thirteen ¡ª are eligible for the entrance exam."


    Elaine continued, "They have to pass the entrance exam to get in. You, on the other hand, not only didn''t give the exam late but are also joining at the last moment."


    Evaline smirked. "Talk about being a prince."


    Elaine giggled. "Yeah, must be nice."


    Liam sighed, already feeling the weight of the challenge ahead.


    As the carriage soared along the skyway, they passed through two more major cities of Arvandor. The rest of the journey through the kingdom was mostly rural¡ªvast stretches of forest, scattered villages, and open plains. The lights below became sparse, the settlements blending seamlessly with nature rather than overwhelming it.


    Then, they entered Valtoria.


    Liam glanced at Edwin and asked, "Is it safe?"


    Edwin gave a small chuckle. "It will be fine¡­ if they want to keep their kingdom."


    Liam noted the weight behind Edwin''s words. His bold statement confirmed that the tension between Valtoria and Ironhelm was more than just diplomatic posturing.


    "How long will we be in Valtoria?" Liam asked.


    "Half an hour," Edwin replied. "Then we''ll be back in Ironhelm''s territory. From there, about four more hours to the Institute."


    "I''m looking forward to seeing their cities."


    There was a brief silence before Cassandra and the twins suddenly burst into laughter.


    "What?" Liam asked, confused.


    Cassandra smirked. "Cities? They could only dream of having cities."


    Liam frowned. "Why?"


    Cassandra leaned back, her expression turning serious. "With almost all their resources funneled into war and defense, how could they ever dream of prosperity?"


    Liam fell silent, taking in her words. He had heard about Valtoria''s militarization, but he hadn''t fully grasped what it meant until now. A kingdom without thriving cities, without wealth and culture expanding beyond the battlefield ¡ª it painted a bleak picture.


    As the half-hour passed, Liam saw it for himself. Below, only dim sources of light flickered in the darkness ¡ª mostly villages and only four small towns scattered across the land. It was nothing like Arvandor''s bright cities or Ironhelm''s grand capitals. The difference was evident.


    Liam truly understood why Valtoria and Ironhelm would never see eye to eye.


    As they crossed back into Ironhelm''s territory, the carriage smoothly caught the wind stream, propelling them forward at an even greater speed. The landscape below became familiar again, a stark contrast to the dimly lit lands of Valtoria. Soon, they would reach the Institute.


    Thinking about it, Liam turned to his sisters and asked, "So¡­ what exactly will I be studying?"


    Cassandra and the twins exchanged mischievous smiles, as if they had been waiting for this question.


    "Nothing much," Cassandra said casually. "Just twenty-two subjects."


    Liam blinked. "TWENTY-TWO?"


    The trio snickered in unison.


    "You''re telling me I have to study twenty-two subjects in four months?" Liam''s voice rose in disbelief.


    Cassandra smirked and leaned back. "That''s what you get for disturbing my reading."


    Liam groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You can''t be serious."


    Elaine grinned. "Oh, we are."


    Evaline added, "You''re the only late-enrolled student in the first year, so you have to catch up. That means ¡ª "


    "Twenty two subjects in four months," Cassandra finished, clearly enjoying his reaction.


    Liam slumped back against his seat, staring at the ceiling. "I knew this was a bad idea."


    Cassandra and the twins giggled as Liam groaned again. "At this rate, I won''t have time to breathe."


    Elaine shrugged. "Welcome to the Institute."


    Evaline smirked. "Don''t worry, you''ll survive. Probably."


    Liam sighed, staring out the window. The Institute loomed somewhere ahead, waiting for him ¡ª and with it, twenty-two subjects crammed into four months.

 Journey Through The Three Kingdoms - III

    The three sisters were asleep with their heads tilted against the cushioned seats, the soft hum of the wind outside lulling them into peaceful slumber.


    Liam, however, remained awake. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window beside him, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. Being this high in the sky, they had reached sunrise earlier than those on the ground. The clouds below were dyed in a soft glow, stretching endlessly like a golden sea.


    Noticing Liam awake, Edwin glanced back from the puller''s chamber and offered a nod. "Good morning, Master Liam."


    Liam stretched his arms and let out a quiet sigh. "Good morning. How much time do we have left before we arrive?"


    "Not much, Master Liam," Edwin replied. "We''re about to reach the Institute."


    As Edwin spoke, Liam noticed the carriage was gradually losing altitude, descending little by little. The once-distant landscape below became clearer, revealing vast stretches of land, rivers winding through valleys, and scattered settlements in the distance.


    Realizing they were close, he decided it was time to wake his sisters. He glanced at Cassandra, Elaine, and Evaline, who were still leaning against their seats, asleep.


    With a smirk, he reached out and gave Cassandra a light shake. "Wake up. We''re almost there."


    Cassandra yawned and stretched before nudging her sisters awake. Elaine groaned, rubbing her eyes, while Evaline blinked a few times before sighing.


    Elaine slumped back against her seat. "I''m not attending today''s classes. I''ll be sleeping in my dorm."


    "Agreed," Cassandra and Evaline said in unison.


    Cassandra glanced at Liam. "What about you? Let''s get you toured in the afternoon. I''m going to sleep, and you probably need some rest too."


    Liam smirked. "Nah, I''ll be fine. Not my first all-nighter."


    Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Don''t bother me if you get into trouble at the Institute. I''m telling you again ¡ª we''ll get going in the afternoon."


    Liam leaned back with a smirk. "Don''t worry, sister. I''m sure being a prince will work in my favor."


    Elaine snorted. "Oh, you think that."


    Evaline chuckled. "Let''s see how long that lasts."


    Liam frowned. "What do you mean by that?"


    Elaine stretched, letting out a lazy yawn. "I mean that no individual can use their status at the Institute. It doesn''t matter if you''re a prince, a noble, or a commoner ¡ª everyone is treated the same."


    Evaline nodded. "The fact that you got in without taking the entrance exam is already more than you could ask for."


    Cassandra smirked. "So don''t go thinking you can push for more favors. The Institute doesn''t care who you are ¡ª only what you can do."


    Liam crossed his arms. "Fine then. We''ll go around the campus this afternoon."


    Cassandra nodded. "Good. That way, you''ll at least know where everything is instead of wandering around like a lost puppy."


    Elaine chuckled. "Yeah, and don''t expect us to babysit you the whole time."


    Liam scoffed. "I''ll manage."


    As the carriage descended further, the view before them became breathtaking. A vast, illustrious city stretched across the landscape, its streets woven with intricate patterns, grand buildings gleaming under the morning sun. But what stood out most was the massive structure at its center¡ª a colossal institute, nearly half the size of the city itself. It had its own distinct boundary, almost like a city within a city, fortified yet elegant, a world of its own.


    Liam stared in awe, taking in the sheer scale of it.


    His thoughts were interrupted as Edwin spoke with a hint of pride. "Welcome to Azmaaris, Master Liam."


    The carriage descended smoothly before landing at the grand gates of Aetherhold. The city''s entrance was bustling with travelers, merchants, and locals lined up for entry. However, instead of waiting in the long queue, their carriage veered toward a separate path ¡ª a VIP route guarded by armored sentinels.


    As they approached, a guard in polished silver armor stepped forward. "Halt. State your purpose."


    Edwin, seated at the front, barely slowed the carriage as he raised a sealed emblem. "Escorting members of the royal family. Special entry clearance."


    The guard inspected the emblem for a moment before nodding. "Understood. Proceed." With a swift motion, he signaled to the other guards, and the heavy iron gates parted just enough for their carriage to pass through.


    Liam, watching through the window, noticed a group of individuals moving through the main entrance, all wearing deep blue uniforms. Unlike the city guards, they carried no weapons, yet they walked with an air of confidence and discipline.


    "Who are they?" Liam asked, eyes following them as they passed.


    Elaine glanced out. "Students of the Institute."


    Liam raised a brow. "But they''re waiting in line like everyone else."


    Elaine smirked. "That''s because, inside the campus walls, everyone is equal. Outside those walls? That''s a different story."


    Liam leaned back, taking that in. Before he could respond, Cassandra turned to him, her usual teasing tone gone. "Listen, Liam. I''ll tell you this again ¡ª seriously this time. Do not do anything that violates the Institute''s rules."


    Liam crossed his arms. "Alright, alright. Where can I even read these rules?"


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    Without a word, Cassandra reached into her bag and, with a swift motion, tossed a book at him. Instinctively, Liam caught it.


    He looked down at the worn leather cover, its golden embossed lettering reading:


    Arthur Royal Institute ¨C Student Handbook (For Year 24th of 28th Reign)


    The cover depicted a majestic twin-headed griffin, its wings outstretched, clutching a banner in its talons. Beneath it, a grand tower ¡ª the symbol of the Institute ¡ª stood tall against a carved backdrop of stars.


    Liam sighed. "Great. More reading."


    Cassandra chuckled as Liam turned the book over in his hands. "I grabbed a copy for you earlier," she said casually. "Father told me about your possible enrollment."


    Liam glanced up, raising a brow. "So you also knew? Who else knows other than me?"


    "Of course I knew," she replied, stretching her arms. "Though I wish you would break some rules on your first day."


    Elaine chuckled. "Would''ve been fun to watch him get in trouble first."


    Liam rolled his eyes, flipping through the pages. "You two are really looking out for me, huh?"


    Evaline grinned. "Oh, absolutely. Now hurry up and read, Prince Special Enrollment."


    Liam opened the book, only to be met with a sudden pop-up¡ªan origami-folded map of the institute that unfolded itself as soon as the cover was lifted.


    "What in the¡­" he muttered, momentarily startled.


    The intricate details of the map caught his eye ¡ª it wasn''t just a simple layout. Each section of the Arthur Royal Institute was labeled, and some buildings seemed to have slight movements as if enchanted to mimic real-time activity.


    Despite his initial surprise, Liam couldn''t help but be impressed. "That''s pretty neat."


    "How did they even do this?" Liam asked, still inspecting the intricate folds of the " ¡ª quite clever."


    Cassandra answered. "The new edition of the handbook is issued by the Disciplinary Department every year and then in the Room of Runes they inscribe the entire yearly schedule into it."


    "Inscribe schedule?" Liam asked


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see.¡± She pulled out a copy of her Handbook and pointed to an idle, floating, green glow on the map. ¡°So, while it may indicate that Professor Raynard is in ¡ª the Professors¡¯ Common Room, it doesn¡¯t necessarily mean he¡¯s actually there. It¡¯s based on their schedule.¡±


    ¡°It seems cool, but it¡¯s not entirely accurate,¡± Evaline articulated further.


    "If a schedule changes, you can submit your copy to the Room of Runes," Elaine added. "They''ll update it for you."


    "Oh." Liam nodded, then frowned.


    "Wait¡­ you think people would track where you are?" Said Elaine.


    Evaline chuckled. "What, scared someone might find out where you''re hiding?"


    "Uh, no¡­" Liam scoffed, flipping another page in the book to avoid their teasing looks.


    Cassandra leaned back. "There was a proposal from an inscription master to have every copy of the handbook magically linked to a professor or student''s mana signature ¡ª so that each book would always show exactly where they were if they carried the book.¡±


    Liam blinked. "That''s¡­ unsettling."


    ¡°Well, don''t worry. It got rejected¡± Evaline spoke calmly.


    "But it is scary, right?" Cassandra said, shaking her head. "Obviously, the idea had to be rejected. Even the Institute isn''t that crazy."


    Liam shut the book with a soft thud and exhaled. His eyes drifted outside the carriage window, scanning the bustling streets of Azmaaris. Even in the early morning, the city was alive ¡ª merchants setting up their stalls, scholars rushing with stacks of books, and workers moving with purpose.


    The blend of magic and craftsmanship was evident in every corner; floating lanterns hovered above shops, enchanted carts moved without horses, and towering spires pulsed faintly with inscribed runes. Unlike the structured grandeur of the royal capital, Azmaaris had a different energy ¡ª one that hummed with innovation and intellect.


    His gaze shifted to the students in blue uniforms walking together in small groups chatting animatedly, while others moved with their robes swaying with every step. It was clear they belonged to the Institute.


    Liam tapped his fingers against the book''s cover, his mind racing about the institute.


    As the carriage rolled forward, the grand gates of the Arthur Royal Institute loomed ahead. Unlike the city walls, which were built for defense, these gates were a marvel of artistry ¡ª etched with golden runes that glimmered under the morning light. The moment their carriage crossed the threshold, Liam felt a subtle shift in the air, like stepping into a place brimming with unseen energy.


    The guards at the entrance, clad in navy and silver, exchanged glances before nodding to Edwin. One of them, a middle-aged man with a well-groomed beard, stepped forward.


    "State your business," he said, though his tone was more formal than questioning.


    Edwin dismounted and handed over a small sealed scroll. "Sir Edwin of House Marleigh, escorting Prince Liam Orlean, along with his sisters, Lady Cassandra, Lady Elaine, and Lady Evaline."


    The guard took a moment to scan the document before giving a respectful nod. "Everything is in order. Welcome to the Arthur Royal Institute." With a swift motion, he signaled to the others, and the gates swung open, allowing their carriage to pass through.


    As they entered, Liam peered outside again, his eyes immediately drawn to the massive campus ahead. The Institute was more than just a single building ¡ª it really was a city within a city, stretching across a vast landscape. A bell tower, bridges connected different wings, and open courtyards were already filled with students moving about. Despite its scale, the place was impeccably maintained, its gardens lush and its stone pathways polished from years of footsteps.


    Liam let out a low whistle. "So, this is it, huh?"


    His sisters, still groggy from sleep, barely reacted. Cassandra stretched her arms lazily. "Mhm. Get used to it. This will be your home for the next few years."


    Liam glanced at Edwin. "Where do we go first?"


    Edwin guided the carriage toward a side path. "The administration hall. You need to officially register before anything else."


    Before Liam could respond, Cassandra waved a hand dismissively. "After you take him to his dorms, you can go, Edwin. We''ll be going for registration in the afternoon."


    Edwin hesitated for a moment, glancing at Liam for confirmation. But before he could say anything, Elaine added with a knowing smirk, "You know you have to follow our orders, right?"


    With a sigh of resignation, Edwin gave a small bow. "As you all wish, my ladies." He guided the carriage toward the Girls'' Dormitory, clearly understanding his dismissal.


    Liam turned to his sisters, raising an eyebrow.


    Evaline yawned. "Hand over your documents, we''ll be fine."


    Cassandra stretched lazily. "We''ve done this before. You''ll be fine."


    Liam sighed, glancing back toward the towering buildings of the institute. "Right. Off to a great start."


    As the carriage came to a stop, the sisters stepped out, barely sparing him another glance as they made their way toward their dormitory. Edwin watched them disappear inside before turning to Liam.


    "Now, Master Liam,¡± Edwin let out a sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s get you to your dormitory."


    With that, Edwin directed the carriage toward the section of the institute designated for male students, the path lined with towering buildings and neatly paved walkways. As they moved, Liam took in the sight of students already moving about, some engaged in early training in a small training ground, others deep in conversation. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, reminding him just how different this world would be from the palace.


    The carriage slowed once more, stopping before a grand structure with high-arched entrances and a crest bearing the institute''s emblem.


    Edwin stepped down first, gesturing toward the entrance. "This will be your home for the next few years."


    Liam exhaled, stepping down and gazing up at the building.


    The Boys'' Dormitory loomed before Liam, its stone facade imposing yet refined, with designed carvings marking its entrance. Two guards in deep blue stood watch by the doors, each holding a long spear.


    "Pass?" one of them asked curtly as Liam approached.


    Before Liam could fumble for a response, Edwin stepped forward with an emblem. "He''s Prince Liam Orlean, here for late enrollment."


    The guards exchanged a glance before one of them stepped aside. "Fine, but make sure you complete your admission before midnight," he warned. "No exceptions."


    Liam gave a quick nod, clutching the handbook tightly in one hand.


    Edwin unloaded Liam''s luggage onto the dormitory steps and gave a tired smile. "That''s as far as I can take you." He paused, his tone softening. "Take care of yourself, Master Liam. And¡­ good luck."


    Liam nodded, feeling a hint of unease as Edwin climbed back onto the carriage.


    "Thanks, Edwin," Liam said quietly.


    With a final nod, Edwin flicked the reins, guiding the carriage away and leaving Liam alone at the threshold of his new life.

 Ivory Warden of Azmaaris - I

    Liam sat quietly in a shaded sitting area along the side of one of the institute''s main buildings, his bookcase resting on his lap. The cool stone bench beneath him was smooth, worn down by years of students passing through. His gaze drifted over the courtyard ahead ¡ª students in blue uniforms moved in small groups, some rushing between buildings, others chatting leisurely. The air hummed with life, yet Liam felt oddly detached from it all.


    Suddenly, the deep chime of the bell tower rang out, its sound echoing across the campus. One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ The bell marked the first hour of the afternoon.


    Liam exhaled, adjusting his grip on the bookcase. He knew he couldn''t sit there forever ¡ª sooner or later, he''d have to face the reality of his rushed enrollment and overwhelming schedule. Still, for now, he lingered, watching the unfamiliar world unfold before him.


    Liam tapped his fingers idly against the bookcase, his eyes shifting back to the path that led from the dormitories. He was waiting for his sisters.


    They''d said they''d meet him in the afternoon to help him settle in ¡ª or at least show him around ¡ª but with each passing minute, his doubts grew. Were they still asleep? Had they forgotten? Or worse, were they deliberately leaving him to fend for himself as some sort of lesson?


    The bell tower''s echo faded, and students continued to pass by, some sparing him a curious glance before returning to their conversations. Liam shifted on the bench, sighing. "Anytime now¡­" he muttered under his breath.


    "Hoii! What are you doing here?" a voice called out.


    Liam turned just in time to see Cassandra, Elaine, and Evaline approaching him. Cassandra''s sharp gaze locked onto him first, while Elaine''s expression carried a hint of irritation.


    "I went to the boys'' dormitory," Cassandra huffed, crossing her arms. "You left right after dropping your luggage. What have you been doing all this time?"


    "We told you not to go wandering around," Elaine added, her tone accusing.


    "Why don''t ¡ª "


    "Calm down," Liam cut in, raising a hand. "I didn''t wander off. I was just sitting here¡­ looking around."


    Evaline snorted, clearly amused. "So, you were sightseeing?"


    Liam shrugged. "More like¡­ figuring things out."


    Cassandra sighed, her earlier frustration fading. "Well, don''t just sit there. Come on, let''s get your registration sorted before you accidentally break a rule you didn''t know existed."


    Liam chuckled dryly as he stood, adjusting his bookcase. "Yeah¡­ wouldn''t want that."


    The group stepped through the wide double doors and into the Entrance Hall of the administration building. The space was grand yet orderly, with polished marble floors reflecting the soft glow of enchanted lanterns that hovered just below the ceiling. The walls were lined with banners displaying the Arthur Royal Institute''s crest ¡ª a silver tower encircled by intertwining runes, symbolizing knowledge and power.


    Students moved about in clusters, some standing by notice boards pinned with parchment, while others hurried through doors that led deeper into the building. The air carried a faint scent of old parchment and ink ¡ª the unmistakable scent of bureaucracy.


    Liam''s gaze wandered to the large desk at the far end of the hall, where several clerks were stationed, processing papers and speaking with students. Behind them, rows of shelves held neatly organized scrolls and records.


    "This way," Cassandra said, steering him toward the desk. "Don''t just stand there staring, you''ll look like a lost tourist."


    "I am a lost tourist," Liam muttered under his breath as he followed.


    As they stepped into the entrance hall, Liam barely had a moment to take in the grand architecture before he felt a firm shove from behind.


    "Go on," Cassandra urged, pushing him toward the help desk.


    "Alright, alright, I get it," Liam muttered, stumbling forward.


    Behind the desk, a middle-aged woman looked up from a stack of parchment. She wore a deep blue robe with silver embroidery, marking her as part of the administrative staff.


    She barely spared him a glance before speaking. "Name?"


    "Liam Orlean," he answered, straightening himself.


    At that, she finally looked up properly, her gaze flickering between him and his sisters. Recognition crossed her face. "Ah, special enrollment. You''ve been expected."


    She dipped her quill into ink and made a quick notation in the ledger before gesturing toward a hallway to the right. "Headmaster Charles has been expecting your arrival. Follow the corridor straight ahead, then take the spiral staircase to the third floor. His office will be at the end."


    Liam turned to his sisters, shooting them a look.


    Cassandra smirked. "Well? Go on, Prince Liam."


    Liam rolled his eyes, adjusting his bookcase.


    The receptionist gave a polite nod before returning to her work, and the siblings headed toward the corridor.


    The siblings were casually chatting as they climbed the staircase, Liam in the middle of a playful argument with Cassandra.


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    "I''m just saying," he smirked, "I don''t see why you were so dramatic about tenty-to subjects. I''m sure I''ll manage."


    Cassandra scoffed. "Oh? Then I guess you don''t need our help catching up."


    Evaline chuckled. "Let''s see how long that confidence lasts."


    Elaine grinned. "I give him a week."


    Liam rolled his eyes. "You all have so little faith in me ¡ª "


    Suddenly, without warning, the mood shifted.


    From the upper floor, a man descended. His presence alone commanded attention, but it wasn''t through intimidation or grandeur. His clothes were simple yet refined, not overly formal, but with an effortless precision that made him stand out. His dark, slightly disheveled hair gave him an air of a scholar who had spent too many late nights poring over research. His sharp eyes, however, held an unmistakable intelligence, the kind that could see right through anyone with just a glance.


    The moment Cassandra, Elaine, and Evaline saw him, their casual banter died. Their backs straightened, their expressions shifted, and in unison, they greeted with perfect politeness:


    "Good afternoon, Professor."


    The manarely spared them a glance. His nod was brief, his footsteps unnaturally light against the stone floor. He continued down past them, completely unfazed, as if the world around him barely registered.


    Liam, however, was left baffled. As soon as the professor disappeared from sight, he turned to his sisters. "Alright. What was that?"


    They didn''t respond; their gaze remained fixed on the professor going downstairs.


    Cassandra exhaled. "Professor Heath Carter."


    Elaine spoke. "Professor of Elemental Studies, Mana Theory, and Conjuration."


    Liam frowned. "So?"


    "So?" Evaline snapped. "He has bachelor''s degrees in all ten core magical subjects. Mastery in three. And he''s only thirty-five."


    Cassandra crossed her arms, leaning against the staircase railing as they walked. "Not to mention, he developed three spells."


    Liam blinked. "Wait¡ªwhat?" He looked between his sisters, hoping one of them would elaborate.


    Elaine smirked, clearly enjoying his reaction. "You don''t get it ¡ª."


    Evaline elaborated. "He''s not just any professor, Liam. He''s probably the most important figure in all of Azmaaris after the Headmaster. Some people say he even holds more influence within the institute than Seyfred himself."


    Liam frowned. "How''s that even possible? The Headmaster runs the school."


    Elaine let out a dry laugh. "Officially, yes. But Professor Heath? He enforces the rules. He upholds discipline and the laws of the institute. If someone ¡ª anyone ¡ª steps out of line, he''s the one who deals with them. And trust me, no one wants to be on the receiving end of his attention."


    Cassandra sighed. "Not even we''re safe from him. Our status means nothing here. If we break a rule, we''ll face the same consequences as any other student."


    Liam raised an eyebrow. "And people actually listen to him?"


    "Of course they do," Evaline said. "He''s a commoner, yet he awakened the Spark. That alone is rare enough, but then he went and earned degrees in all ten core magical disciplines."


    Elaine added, "And if that wasn''t enough, he achieved triple mastery in Elemental Studies, Mana Theory, and Conjuration. Oh, and let''s not forget ¡ªthree ¡ª original ¡ª spells."


    Liam let out a slow breath. "That''s¡­ absurd."


    Cassandra remarked. "Tell me about it. He''s a monster. A terrifyingly brilliant one."


    Liam glanced back toward the staircase where they had passed him. The professor hadn''t looked particularly intimidating at first glance, but now, with everything they''d told him, Liam felt a deep unease, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and caution. "Huh¡­ He didn''t seem that scary."


    Cassandra started walking again. "Oh, you''ll understand soon enough."


    Liam wasn''t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring or a warning.


    Elaine clapped her hands together. "Alright, let''s get you to the Headmaster''s office. Let''s finish the procedures."


    The group continued up the staircase, but Liam couldn''t help but glance back once more, half-expecting to see Professor Heath watching them. But the staircase was empty.


    As they reached the next floor, Cassandra gestured toward a hallway with high-arched ceilings. "The administration wing is just ahead. The Headmaster''s office should be at the end of the hall."


    "Nervous?" Evaline spoke playfully.


    Liam scoffed. "Why would I be nervous?"


    Elaine grinned. "Because you''ve been thrown into an elite institute without any preparation?"


    "Please," Liam rolled his eyes. "I''ve faced worse."


    "You say that now," Cassandra remarked.


    The Headmaster''s office grand double doors stood infront. Liam tried to knock paused mid-step, as the heavy double doors creaked open on their own. A deep, authoritative voice resonated from within.


    "Come inside."


    He glanced back at his sisters, but they simply gestured for him to go ahead. Cassandra smiled sheepishly. "Well, go on then. The Headmaster''s expecting you."


    Liam exhaled and stepped forward, crossing into the office. The doors closed behind him.


    Seyfred, who had already moved on to another stack of papers, looked up at Liam''s silence. He arched an eyebrow. "Did I miss something?"


    Liam snapped out of his daze. "Headmaster, I haven''t even taken the entrance exam. I don''t even know what it is." He hesitated, then added, "Shouldn''t you have something to ask me?"


    Seyfred sighed, setting down his quill. "Oh dear boy, you are Liam Orlean, son of King Elijah. If I were to question your qualifications, I would be questioning the authority that placed you here."


    Liam frowned. "So I just¡­ get in?"


    The Headmaster tapped his fingers on the desk. "If you are looking for reassurances, you won''t get them here. You are already a student. What you do with that privilege is entirely up to you."


    Liam still felt unsettled. "But ¡ª "


    "The entrance exam," Seyfred interrupted, "is to assess whether a student is capable of handling the curriculum. You, on the other hand, have already been given a deadline¡ªfour months to catch up on twenty-two subjects. If you fail, you will naturally be expelled. A different kind of test, wouldn''t you say?"


    Liam came to the realisation. It was true, but it didn''t sit right with him. He was being allowed in without proving himself, yet he would have to struggle more than anyone else just to stay.


    Seeing the look on his face, Seyfred smiled slightly. "If it bothers you so much, feel free to attend the next entrance exam when it is scheduled. But I don''t think you''ll have the time."


    Liam exhaled sharply. "Great. So I either prove myself by catching up or fail and get thrown out."


    "Exactly." Seyfred gestured toward the door. "Now, unless you have further complaints, I suggest you collect your student badge. I have far too many papers to sign and not enough pens to do it with."


    Liam hesitated for a moment before bowing his head slightly. "Thank you, Headmaster."


    He turned toward the exit, but just as he reached for the door handle, Seyfred''s voice rang out once more.


    "Wait."


    Liam paused and looked back. "Yes, Headmaster?"


    Seyfred leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I will ease your predicament a little since you are already at a disadvantage."


    Liam stood still, waiting for further clarification.


    "Beware of Professor Heath." Seyfred''s lips curled slightly, as if amused by some private joke. "Thank me later."


    Before Liam could ask what he meant, the doors behind him swung open on their own.


    Stepping out, Liam was immediately met by his sisters, who had clearly been waiting for him.


    Cassandra smirked. "Look at you, all serious. How was it? Did he make you write an essay on why you should be here?"


    Evaline giggled. "No, no. I bet he just sat there, sweating in front of the Headmaster."


    Elaine leaned in, grinning. "Did he scold you already?"


    Liam rolled his eyes as they laughed, clearly entertained at his expense.


    "There was no need to worry, Headmaster Seyfred is easygoing," Cassandra mused. "Strict when needed, but mostly just drowning in work."


    They kept teasing him, but Liam''s mind had already wandered elsewhere.


    Within the span of an hour, he had been warned twice, about a man he knew nothing about.

 Ivory Warden of Azmaaris - II

    The Arthur Royal Institute never truly slept. Even as night fell, the dormitories remained alive with murmurs, the shuffle of feet, and the glow of enchanted lanterns lining the hallways. The boys'' dormitory, in particular, was abuzz with hushed conversations, the air thick with curiosity and speculation.


    For the first time in the institute''s long and storied history, a prince had been granted a place within its walls. The Thirteenth Prince of Ironhelm, Liam Orlean.


    Inside his newly assigned chamber, Liam sat by the bedside, his belongings neatly stored away. The room was modest by royal standards but undeniably luxurious compared to an ordinary student''s lodging. A spacious wooden desk rested near a tall window, offering a sweeping view of the city lights in the distance. A bookshelf stood against the wall, partially filled with institute-provided tomes, waiting to be read. A wardrobe, crafted from dark oak, stood beside it, its polished surface reflecting the warm glow of a floating mana lamp hovering near the ceiling. The bed, covered in deep blue sheets embroidered with silver accents, was large enough for comfort but lacked the grandeur of his chambers back home.


    This was to be his home for the foreseeable future.


    Beyond the walls of his room, whispers traveled swiftly.


    "Prince Liam¡­ here? In our year?"


    "How did he even get in? Surely, he used his status ¡ª "


    "I heard he''s lazy. Incapable of ruling even a wealthy barony. He probably just wants to live an easy life."


    "Ridiculous! The Orlean bloodline is full of monsters. Even if he''s the youngest, he has to be powerful."


    Amidst the speculation, one truth remained unknown to the masses ¡ª Liam had given up his claim to the throne. Only the Royal House of Orlean and a select few individuals knew the truth. To the rest of the world, his enrollment was a mystery.


    The intrigue surrounding his arrival spread like wildfire. Everyone in the boys'' dormitory ¡ª no, the entire campus ¡ª was curious. First-years, second-years, and even upperclassmen found themselves drawn into the rumors.


    Some students saw an opportunity. Who wouldn''t want to befriend a prince? Whether for personal gain, connections, or sheer curiosity, many wished to introduce themselves.


    But the question remained ¡ª how?


    How does one approach a prince?


    Inside his chamber, exhausted, Liam lay in his bed. The first day had been overwhelming. His presence had garnered more attention than he had anticipated, and the weight of it settled heavily on his shoulders.


    His gaze drifted to the student handbook resting on his desk, left unopened amidst the chaos of the day. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and reached for it, flipping through the pages until he found the timetable.


    First Year Curriculum


    Liam scanned through the list, his eyes widening at the sheer number of subjects. Even though he had known the coursework would be demanding, seeing it laid out in front of him sent a chill down his spine.


    Core Magical Studies


    Elemental Studies


    Head of Department: Professor Heath Carter


    Associate Professors: Professor Arlan Weiss, Professor Sylvia Morven


    Mana Theory


    Head of Department: Professor Heath Carter


    Associate Professors: Professor Yvain Aldridge, Professor Inaya Rellford


    Spellcrafting


    Head of Department: Professor Alistair Voss


    Associate Professors: Professor Corwin Hale, Professor Eliza Torrin


    . . .


    As Liam read through the contents, his stomach churned. He wasn''t just behind ¡ª he was months behind. His late enrollment meant he had four months to catch up on twenty-two subjects.


    The mere sight of it made him shiver.


    "¡­How in the world am I supposed to survive this?" He cried.


    Liam¡¯s eyes widened as he scanned through the list of professors.


    Professor Heath''s name appeared not just once, but three times ¡ª listed as the Head of the Department for Elemental Studies, Mana Theory, and Conjuration.


    His sisters were not joking, he seriously was a genius.


    He reached out absentmindedly and tapped his name on the page.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    The moment his finger made contact, the student handbook reacted.


    The pages suddenly flipped on their own, as if carried by an unseen force, fluttering rapidly toward the front page, the map unfolded on itself.


    Startled, Liam pulled his hand back, but his eyes were drawn to something unusual ¡ª a small, green hovering dot pulsing faintly on the Department of Elemental Studies. It hovered just above the name ¡ª Heath Carter.


    Liam hesitated, staring at the pulsing green dot. His fingers hovered over the page before he decided to test something.


    Slowly, he reached out again, this time pressing on the name of Professor Alistair Voss, the Head of Spellcrafting.


    Nothing.


    Frowning, he tried again, this time selecting Professor Corwin Hale, one of the Associate Professors of Mana Theory.


    Still, nothing.


    Curious now, Liam continued tapping through the names of various professors ¡ª heads of departments, associate professors, even instructors who specialized in niche subjects. Yet, no matter how many he tested, the student handbook remained unresponsive.


    But when he hesitantly touched Heath Carter¡¯s name again ¡ª


    Flip!


    The pages shifted on their own, the map unfolding once more, and the green pulsing dot still hovered over the Department of Elemental Studies.


    Liam exhaled slowly, a sinking realization settling in.


    The professors he had tapped before hadn¡¯t reacted because¡­ they weren¡¯t present.


    According to their schedules, they were either in their living quarters, off-duty, or somewhere else entirely.


    Yet Professor Heath Carter ¡ª


    He was still here.


    At this hour.


    Close to midnight.


    *


    Liam had barely registered when the warning morning bell rang, snapping him out of his daze.


    His body ached from lack of sleep, but there was no time to dwell on it. Liam had crammed the whole night studying the student handbook.


    And the information he summed up was ¡ª


    He was no longer a prince. Just a student.


    And his first class was about to begin.


    The morning bell rang, marking the beginning of the schooling hours.


    Liam sighed inwardly as he stepped into the classroom, feeling the weight of countless eyes on him.


    The first-year classroom on the ground floor was vast, designed to accommodate exactly 150 students ¡ª a fact made clear because, today, all 150 of them were present. And it wasn¡¯t for any special ceremony.


    Whispers buzzed through the room as he went for the only empty seat at the back of the classroom. The entire row of his seats froze as he made his way through the crowd.


    ¡°Did you see him?¡±


    ¡°He does look like royalty.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, except his hair¡­¡±


    ¡°Shh, shut up, man ¡ª he¡¯s not with me Prince Liam!¡± one student joked.


    From the other side, hushed voices from the girls¡¯ side of the classroom carried over.


    ¡°He¡¯s gorgeous.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Then you don¡¯t stand a chance.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?!¡±


    The girls had a burst of muffled laughter, casting fleeting glances his way, some leaning into their friends, whispering, and occasionally stealing longer looks than they probably intended.


    It wasn¡¯t just his classmates. The moment he had stepped out of the dormitory that morning, the whispers had followed him. Some students stared openly, while others pretended not to.


    Even seniors¡ªwho had no reason to be near the first-year classrooms ¡ª found excuses to linger.


    ¡°Ah, sorry juniors, I thought this was my class.¡±


    ¡°Hey, junior, do you know where the House War practice sign-ups are?¡±


    Liam¡¯s ears caught onto that phrase.


    House Wars


    He made a mental note to research it later.


    But beyond the curiosity, the whispers, the fleeting glances ¡ª Liam knew exactly what was happening, though he wanted none of it.


    He was a royalty, after all ¡ª the Thirteenth Prince of Ironhelm. His presence was a spectacle. He hoped that it wouldn¡¯t remain so for all his schooling years or his four-month stay, whichever was destined.


    ¡°Hey, Professor Heath is late. He¡¯s never¡ª¡±


    The classroom door swung open.


    All at once, the atmosphere shifted. The once chatty and relaxed students stiffened in their seats. Backs straightened, hands folded neatly on desks, and all eyes snapped toward the front of the room.


    Liam, caught off guard by the sudden change, hesitated for a moment before instinctively following suit.


    A man stepped inside.


    Professor Heath Carter.


    He wasn¡¯t particularly dressed like a formal scholar ¡ª his robes were slightly loosened, and he wore no extravagant insignia ¡ª yet his presence commanded the room effortlessly.


    He stood at the lectern, gaze sweeping over the students, then spoke, his voice even and measured.


    ¡°I apologize for my late arrival, first-years.¡±


    He paused.


    ¡°At Arthur Royal Institute, one must uphold discipline. And being on time is one of them.¡±


    His tone was neither harsh nor accusing. It was simply¡­ a statement.


    Then, to everyone¡¯s shock ¡ª


    ¡°So, as punishment, all first-years will receive a bonus of 10 marks in the finals of Conjuration.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Even if you leave a blank answer sheet. No questions asked.¡±


    For a moment, nobody reacted.


    Then ¡ª whispers. Wide eyes. Stolen glances. Some students barely contained their excitement, while others exchanged hesitant nods, trying to decipher if this was a test or a joke.


    Liam furrowed his brows. What kind of ¡ª


    ¡°Silence.¡±


    The word was spoken softly, yet it carried across the entire room.


    The whispers ceased immediately.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me retract it,¡± Carter folded his arms ¡°I was late,¡± he stated, as if it was a matter of absolute fact. ¡°And as the one responsible, I will bear the consequence.¡±


    His voice was calm. Dangerously calm.


    Not a single student dared to utter another word.


    Professor Heath reached into his robe, pulled out a small, leather-bound book, and without warning, tossed it into the crowd.


    A student barely managed to catch it, fumbling slightly before straightening in his seat.


    ¡°Remember, Howell.¡± Heath¡¯s gaze settled on him. ¡°No marking proxy for anyone, or you will be marked absent for the entire year.¡±


    The boy¡ª Howell ¡ª swallowed nervously and nodded. ¡°Y-yes, sir.¡±


    He quickly sat down, flipping open the book, and began scribbling names onto what was clearly a class attendance record.


    Liam, watching the exchange, noted how effortlessly Heath maintained control. The man didn¡¯t shout, didn¡¯t threaten, didn¡¯t glare ¡ª yet no one dared to step out of line.


    Professor Heath turned back to the class, his expression utterly indifferent.


    ¡°Let us begin.¡±


    As Professor Heath spoke, a quill lifted itself from his desk and soared toward the board, moving with effortless precision.


    Without so much as a glance, Heath continued adjusting the cuffs of his robes, seemingly unconcerned with the quill¡¯s movements.


    Before Liam¡¯s eyes, the quill dipped into an inkwell mid-air, then flowed smoothly across the board, writing in a neat, elegant script:


    LECTURE 33 ¡ª CONJURING LIGHTNING.


    It wasn¡¯t just floating ¡ª it was controlled with an exactness Liam had never witnessed before.


    He had seen telekinesis used in mundane ways ¡ª lifting books, fetching objects ¡ª but this?


    This was different.


    Not a single stroke wavered. Not a single drop of ink splattered.


    It was as if the quill had a mind of its own, yet Liam knew better.


    This was Professor Heath Carter¡¯s control of Telekinesis.