Witch Yasoria looked back at Zevryn while hissing with the sharp pain that was coursing through her hand, her lips curling as though the sting had bitten deep into her very bones.
It wasn't the kind of pain born from physical wounds, it burned like it was woven from pure magic itself, an ancient ward striking her down for daring to trespass near its limits.
"Elder Yasoria! Are you fine?!" She heard Kaelith's urgent voice cut through the haze of pain. His footsteps were quick and heavy against the floor, and in a heartbeat he was beside her, reaching out to steady her trembling form.
His strong hands slipped under her arm, lifting her gently from the cold ground. His sharp eyes, usually calculating and unreadable, darted rapidly across the chamber, scanning every shadow for any lurking presence that might have caused the blow.
"What was it, Elder Yasoria?! Why were you thrown away like that, and why are you grasping your hand? Are you alright?" Kaelith pressed, his voice low but taut with concern.
Yasoria forced herself to nod, though her hand still pulsed with that unnatural burn, the veins in her wrist glowing faintly before fading into her pale skin. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself, and replied in a strained but measured tone, "I am fine, Minister Kaelith."
Slowly, she straightened, her posture regaining the commanding grace expected of her, though the faint quiver in her fingers betrayed the truth. Her gaze then shifted sharply to Zevryn.
He was still sitting on the floor, his dark hair falling messily over his eyes, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His expression was distant, as if his mind was caught between worlds.
Yasoria's eyes narrowed. She had recognized the unmistakable signature of the king's protective magic. That ancient enchantment, cast upon his bloodline ages ago, was ruthless and uncompromising.
It existed solely to shield him, to deflect every spell, every intrusion, every manipulation that dared to touch him. If it had reacted this violently, even against her, someone attempting to help then it meant something grave was clawing at Zevryn's very soul.
Her stomach sank. Could it truly be as Kaelith had feared? No... it shouldn't be possible. She was imprisoned, sealed away where no power of hers should reach.
And yet, doubt gnawed at her. What if it wasn't her at all but something older, something more ancient than any of them had accounted for?
The thought alone was enough to send a chill racing down her spine. She had to investigate this matter. The protective magic had been so overwhelming, so absolute, that it hadn't even differentiated between her benign energy and the malignant force it sought to destroy.
To the protection, any foreign power, friend or foe was treated as a threat to its master's survival. That was the depth of its loyalty, and its danger.
"Minister Kaelith," she said quickly, her voice carrying both urgency and authority, "we should not waste any more time. You must ensure his majesty reaches River Elandor at once!"
Her tone left no room for argument. If Zevryn had any hope of resisting what gnawed at him, the river would be their strongest ally.
Kaelith's jaw clenched, but his nod was immediate, decisive. "We will set out right away, Elder Yasoria!" he declared. Without hesitation, he strode to Zevryn's side. The king was still disoriented, the faint shadow of pain etched across his features. Even though the earlier convulsions had eased, his strength was far from restored.
Kaelith crouched beside him, slipping one arm beneath Zevryn's shoulders and the other under his knees with the practiced ease of a commander who had carried too many injured soldiers from battlefields.
In one swift motion, he lifted Zevryn onto his shoulder, his stance steady as if bearing the weight of his king was nothing compared to the burden of failing him.
Turning his head slightly, Kaelith met Yasoria's eyes with unshakable determination. "I will use the secret paths to leave the castle unseen. You remain here, Elder Yasoria. Give the illusion that we are all still inside these walls. Do not allow anyone to enter this chamber until we return."
"I will handle it," Yasoria replied firmly, though her hand still throbbed with the sting of the protective magic. Her voice, however, betrayed no weakness.
Kaelith inclined his head in respect before muttering an incantation under his breath. A shimmer of magic spread briefly across the room, to cloud her vision before Kaelith till Kaelith used the passage in the room.
When the last trace of their presence vanished, silence fell heavily upon the chamber. Yasoria exhaled slowly and lowered herself onto the nearest chair, her hand still ached, the faint burn lingering in her veins like fire that refused to die out. She lifted her palm, staring at it with narrowed eyes.
The king's protection magic was far more powerful than even the oldest records had suggested. And for it to lash out so violently now... it meant the true danger was only just beginning.
(~^~)
Kaelith lowered Zevryn onto a flat rock as soon as they reached the banks of the River Elandor. His chest rose and fell sharply, the sprint through the secret paths leaving him breathless, but his priority wasn't himself. It was his brother.
He crouched down immediately, placing both hands on Zevryn's shoulders, trying to coax him back from whatever strange abyss his mind had been swallowed into.
"Your Majesty, look at me! Can you hear me?" Kaelith's voice trembled despite the command in his tone. He lifted Zevryn's head, holding it gently but firmly so that Zevryn wouldn't collapse forward. Zevryn's neck had gone slack, his body heavy like dead weight, and it terrified Kaelith.
But then their gazes met. And what Kaelith saw made his heart twist violently. Zevryn's eyes, usually so sharp, so unyielding were now brimming with tears, vacant yet unbearably pained.
This wasn't the proud king, the unshakable monarch others saw. This was the boy Kaelith had grown up with, the brother who had been his anchor all his life, reduced to a hollow shell barely clinging on.
"Zevryn, what happened, brother? Tell me…" His words cracked as he abandoned all formalities, pulling him close into a desperate embrace. Titles meant nothing here. Right now, it wasn't about a king, it was about his brother.
Zevryn's voice, when it finally broke through, was raw and jagged. "Kaelith… I miss her! I wish I had died with her! I don't want this life anymore. Please—please do something." His sobs shuddered against Kaelith's shoulder, each one like a blade piercing straight into Kaelith's chest.
For the first time in eighteen long years, Kaelith saw him crumble. Truly crumble. Not the hardened mask Zevryn had worn since those cursed days, but the fragile, grieving soul he had buried deep within.
The memory of that past, their darkest hours flashed in Kaelith's mind like open wounds torn anew.
Tightening his hold, Kaelith pressed his cheek against Zevryn's hair, as if he could shield him from the torment with sheer closeness. "Zevryn… listen to me. We are searching for ways to bring her back. Do you hear me? We are fighting for her. But how can you give up now? You're her hope. You have to stay strong—for her!" His voice wavered between fierce determination and pleading.
Zevryn's body trembled, but he nodded, however weakly, as though trying to push away the storm inside his chest.
"Now…" Kaelith pulled back, brushing the tears from his brother's cheeks like he had done when they were children. "As Elder Yasoria said, you need to enter the River Elandor. Its waters can ease this strange pain of yours." He forced a smile, though his heart still bled.
Just as Kaelith helped Zevryn steady himself, both brothers froze. The faint crunch of footsteps echoed across the riverside. Someone was approaching.
In a single motion, Kaelith sprang to his feet, positioning himself in front of Zevryn like a shield. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his body tense, ready to strike.
Zevryn, though weakened, raised his head as well, his trembling hands curling into fists against the rock as his instincts pushed him to remain alert.
The figure emerged slowly from the shadows of the trees. And when the intruder finally came into view, both men felt their hearts jolt violently.
Kaelith's fingers went slack around his weapon, his sword nearly slipping from his grasp. Zevryn's breath hitched, his body shivering from the soul-deep shock that rattled him.
Author's Note 🎶
Now my amazing loving readers who have made this far into the story, I would assume you, like me will also want this story to keep going, so let's work together ~
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And here's the deal:
5 Golden Tickets = 1 Bonus Chapter
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* Even if the other gifts reach the magic castle threshold, it will also get you bonus chapters*
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