The air was thick with unspoken words, like the storm that had passed—lingering, restless.
Edrion Vale stood in front of me, his expression steady, his dark hair falling just so. "Your Grace," he said with a quiet nod, his voice firm. "The Slumbers are in my hands now. I'll manage the rebuilding."
I glanced at him, then at Lucian, whose silence spoke volumes. He didn't argue, but I felt the edge in his stillness.
Edrion turned to leave, but Lucian's voice stopped him. "Remember, Vale. The Slumbers are fragile. Take care."
Edrion nodded again, but it was the look in Lucian's eyes that caught my attention—there was something sharp, something unfamiliar. Jealousy?
The moment the door closed behind Edrion, Lucian's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "I did bring him, but I do not think-"
I met his gaze, calm. "Edrion's the right choice. I trust him."
"Do you?" he asked, stepping closer. The space between us grew colder. "Because I'm not sure I do."
I didn't flinch. "You don't need to. You're not the one in charge of the Slumbers."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more. He was quiet, brooding—his jealousy hiding behind a mask of control.
Later, in the garden, I knelt by the earth, fingers brushing over the soil. The mana stones lay before me—alive, waiting.
"What now?" Lucian's voice was low, like a storm rolling in.
I pushed the stones into the ground, one by one. Each felt like a pulse beneath my fingertips.I straightened. "We wait."
He watched me closely, his gaze piercing. "You don't think the weather will stop them from growing?"
"The mana trees don't care about weather," I replied softly. "They grow when a mage plants them."
The words settled between us, heavy with meaning. I could feel it then—the magic that hummed beneath the surface, stirring in the stones.
Lucian's voice was barely a whisper. "So you accepted yourself as a mage."
"I would not be able to hold the mana seeds with my bare hands if I did not."
Though magic seemed foreign to me, it was not for the people in this universe.
Later that day, a messenger arrived with a scroll sealed in the Mage Tower's insignia.
Lucian handed it to me. "The head of the Mage Tower will help you understand your power."I opened the scroll, reading the name: Kaelen Verith.
"Who is he?" I asked, eyes still on the paper."A scholar of magic," Lucian replied. "He'll teach you what you need to know. Whether you like it or not."I met his gaze, searching. "And what do you get from this?"He smirked, a cold, calculating smile. "I get the satisfaction of watching you grow."
The days blurred into one, the trees growing tall and fast, their roots sinking deep into the earth, pulling at the world's energy.I stood in the garden again, watching the trees. Their branches twisted, reaching for the sky, as if they were alive—alive with something ancient, something powerful.But was it too much?
I walked over to Edrion, who was busy overseeing the workers in the Slumbers. "How's it going?" I asked, forcing the doubt from my voice.
"We're making progress," he said, not looking up. "The people are beginning to trust us."I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. The trees, the magic, the power—all of it felt like a storm waiting to break.
That evening, Kaelen Verith arrived. Tall and calm, his eyes calculating but sharp."I've been instructed to teach you," he said simply, standing before me like a shadow, "about your magic."I nodded, though my heart pounded. "What do I need to know?"Kaelen's gaze was steady. "Everything. But know this: the more you learn, the more dangerous it becomes."I tilted my head, uncertainty flickering inside. "And what price does it come with?""The price of knowledge," he said, his voice like steel. "And power."
In the silence of the night, I felt the weight of the seeds beneath the earth. They were growing faster than I had expected. And so was I.
The tree roots twisted deep under the palace ground, pulling at secrets buried long ago. The power was waking, and so was something else.
Something dark. Something that would not be easily controlled.
The trees had grown faster than I expected, their branches reaching for the sky, glowing with unnatural energy. Something felt wrong.
The first sign came when I touched one of the trees. It recoiled, its bark shifting, dark veins pulsing beneath the surface. My skin prickled. I pulled back, but the strange feeling only intensified. Something was waking.
Then, I saw it.
A shadow, not from the trees or the palace, but from the very air—shifting, dark, like smoke. It took shape, a figure cloaked in darkness with glowing eyes, a presence that seemed to seep from the ground itself.
"You've awakened me," the voice echoed in my mind, not from its lips but from the roots beneath my feet. "The seeds you planted disturbed the slumber of the world."I froze. "What are you?"
The figure tilted its head. "I am the curse of Noctare. The force buried beneath the roots of the trees. Magic is not a gift, little mage—it is a burden. You will learn soon enough. I will be the end of you all."
The shadows reached for me, but before they could touch me, Lucian's voice cut through the air."Enough!"
Lucian entered the garden, his presence commanding. "The trees belong to Noctare. So do its guardians."
The figure hissed, flickering, but Lucian stood firm. "You think you can control me?" it sneered.
"I don't need to control you. I just need you to know your place."
The shadows recoiled, fading back into the trees, but the chill remained.
Lucian turned to me, his expression unreadable. "The power you've unlocked isn't just magic. It's part of Noctare's history. And with it comes consequences."
"I didn't know... it would wake up," I murmured.He didn't respond immediately, his gaze lingering on the trees. "You were never meant to."
Days passed, and the dark presence seemed to fade, but the tension remained. Lucian became more distant, colder, his focus fixed. I could feel his unease, but I wasn't the only one struggling with what had happened.
One evening, Kaelen Verith found me. His eyes were sharp. "You felt it, didn't you?"I nodded. "What happens now?"Kaelen's lips twitched, almost a smile. "You've awoken the first of many."My heart sank. "The first of many?""There's more to come," he said. "What you've set in motion is just the beginning."
That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that Lucian knew more than he let on. The game had changed, and I wasn't sure I was ready to play.
The sun was barely awake, casting a silvery glow across the training grounds. I walked there alone, the weight of the night pressing against my shoulders. Lucian's absence wasn't unusual, but today, it felt different. I needed to be alone—to push myself. To feel the burn of my muscles, to silence the doubt in my mind.
The air was cool, but I barely noticed. My sword was heavier than before, my body slower, but I didn't stop. Each swing, each step, was a battle with myself. The trees in the distance swayed as though watching, the mana roots beneath the earth pulsing with the power I was still trying to understand.
I didn't stop. Not when my arms screamed, not when my legs wobbled. Hours passed, and the sun appeared, leaving only the finest glow from the near horizon. I was exhausted—my body shaking with each movement, sweat dripping down my face—but I kept going.I could barely feel my muscles anymore. It wasn't until I dropped the sword and staggered, leaning on the pommel for support, that I heard his footsteps.
Lucian stepped into the training grounds, his gaze immediately finding me. He didn't speak at first, just watched me struggle to stay upright. His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained as unreadable as ever.
"You've been at this for hours," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper against the cool air.I straightened, wiping my brow with the back of my hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "I'm fine."
"You're not," he replied, crossing the distance between us with ease. He reached out, his hand brushing against my arm, steadying me. "I admire your dedication, Liora. But you need to be careful."
I met his gaze, steady despite the exhaustion. "I can handle it."
He tilted his head, his eyes softening even further. "I don't doubt that. But the weight you're carrying is heavy, and I don't want you to burn yourself out." His voice dropped, more intimate now. "Whatever happens with the curse, we will face it together. You're not alone, Liora. Not anymore."
His words sank into me like a promise—a bond forged in the fires of uncertainty. For a moment, I didn't say anything. I just allowed the silence to settle between us, the space filled with the warmth of his reassurance.
"You can't carry everything alone," he added, his hand brushing against my cheek, fingers lingering for a moment before he stepped back. "You have me. Always."
I swallowed hard, nodding. "I won't forget."
The days blurred into one another as I began my studies. The curse, the magic, the power beneath Noctare—it all haunted my thoughts, gnawing at the edges of my mind.
Kaelen Verith had agreed to help me. He wasn't just a scholar of magic; he was a keeper of its history. As he taught me the basics of controlling my power, I also demanded answers about its origins.
"What exactly is this curse?" I asked one evening, sitting across from him in the dimly lit library. "What happens if I can't control it?"
Kaelen leaned back, his gaze far away as though the question itself carried centuries of weight. "The curse... is not what you think. It's not inherently evil. It's all about perspective. Magic, especially the ancient kind, is tied to the land itself. And like the land, it can be a blessing or a curse, depending on how it's used."
I frowned, still not fully understanding. "So it's only a curse if we use it for harm?"
He nodded slowly. "Exactly. What you have is not inherently dangerous, but it's raw, untamed. If wielded with ill intent, it becomes a curse. But, wielded with care, it's a powerful tool for change. For healing. For rebuilding."
I thought of the shadow from the garden, the dark figure that had threatened to consume everything.
"And what about the history of it?" I asked. "How did this power become so feared?"Kaelen's eyes glinted with a strange mix of admiration and caution. "The history of magic in Noctare is older than you think. Long before the Empire came into power, the land was home to wild mana—magic that grew with the land, untamed. It was a power of creation but also of destruction. The ancients who controlled it built great cities, but they also destroyed them when they abused the magic. The first Emperor, Arin Vortan, saw this and sought to bind the magic, to control it. He succeeded... for a time."
I leaned in, captivated by his words. "So the curse... is from the time before Noctare was a part of the Empire?"
Kaelen's lips curled into a thin smile. "Yes. The power was bound by the first Emperor, but the land never forgot. It's always there, waiting to be awakened."
I absorbed his words, the weight of history settling around me. A curse... or a blessing. It depended on the hands that wielded it.
From that day on, my training intensified. I wasn't just learning how to fight with a sword anymore. I was learning how to control the magic within me, to shape it, to bend it to my will. Kaelen taught me the basics of harnessing my power, guiding me through the ancient techniques that had been forgotten by most.
But the more I learned, the more I realized just how dangerous this power could be. If I wasn't careful, I could become as reckless as the ancients who had used magic to destroy.Yet, despite the dangers, I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't alone. Lucian had promised that, and with every passing day, I found myself trusting him more and more.
Together, we would face whatever came next.