Faint whispers erupted from the nobles, but they quickly dispersed. I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on me, and a knot began to form in my stomach.
It all felt a bit overwhelming. Being the future king of a nation I knew nothing about.
A couple of days ago, I was lying in bed, barely able to move my fingers, and now I was in another world being crowned heir. At first, I thought Alaric would be crowned heir, considering he was the one who inherited light magic.
I was magicless. The only thing I had of worth was the clothes on my back and my eyes, whose value I had yet to figure out.
"Percival, step forward," the king ordered.
Calming myself, I walked toward the throne. It was taller than I expected. At just five years old, everything around me looked enormous.
When I reached the throne, the king took hold of my hand. His hands were slender, as if he had never worked a day in his life.
He smelled of flowers, similar to those in the throne room, and the more I looked at him, the more I suspected he was wearing some sort of makeup.
He fastened a gold bracelet around my wrist and spoke in a tone meant only for me to hear.
"This bracelet marks you as the heir. From this day, you'll be trained and nurtured as a king."
"Er… um… yes, your majesty," I stammered.
I stumbled over my words. His eyes narrowed at me, but since I was just a child in his eyes, I suspected he wouldn't judge me too harshly. He struck me as a stern man, but I did see the same love for me that I saw when I looked into my mother's eyes.
I got the feeling he saw me as just a replacement. The person who would take over his role in the future and nothing more. After he named me as his heir, the king introduced me to the nobles, parading me like a prize for all to see.
Just then, as everything concluded, we were approached by the high priest, Alarian, the same priest who healed me.
"Your majesty," he said, slightly bowing his head, "I wish to speak to you about your son, Alaric."
"What about him?"
"The church wishes to take him under our wing. We see untapped potential in him. His aptitude for light magic is far above what we've seen in years."
My father stared at him for a while, as if pondering what to do, before he finally spoke.
"I do not wish for my son to become a priest. I'd much rather he become a mage or a knight, perhaps."
The priest smiled.
"As you wish, sire. We only wish to educate him properly. Who has the most knowledge of light magic but the church? With him under our wing, we can mold him into a valuable ally who can assist his brother in securing our nation."
"A weapon, you say?" The king paused again. The word weapon seemed to have caught his attention. "Fine, train him."
With those simple words, the priest's face lit up into a brilliant smile.
"We will, your grace," he vowed and left.
…
After I was named heir, I was granted a little more freedom to do as I pleased. The problem was that there was little to do around the palace. Dunken offered to teach me swordsmanship, but I saw no use in that, so I declined. I've seen a little of what magic can do and running around waving a sword would only make me feel like a fool.
It made more sense to focus my energy on the only thing that set me apart form others: my eyes.
In the end, I decided to do what I did best: study. There was a library hidden in the lower parts of the palace. Looking at its state, I could tell no one went there.
It was exactly how a library should be, peaceful and quiet. I spent my days reading books, mostly history books, until I dug deeper into the library and found books about magic.
You would think a book dedicated to magic would have a lot of information about it, but that wasn't the case. The book was mostly about the different kinds of magic, which noble families had which magic, and a little about spells. It offered little information on the theoretically or technical applications of magic.
I was just about to toss the book when I noticed something. Someone had made a doodle in the book. A small drawing of something that looked vaguely familiar.
It was those symbols that I was able to see but no one else could. There were more drawings, and beside each one was a label:
"Magic symbols."
The symbols weren't perfect. In fact, based on the drawings, it looked like the person was completely unable to see the symbols that I was seeing. It felt as if they were just guessing what they looked like.
There was also a name beside each of the drawings. I quickly called Dunken over to see if he knew the person.
"Dunken, do you know a person by the name of Avery Winchester?"
Dunken's face suddenly turned stiff. He then quickly bowed his head.
"My prince… I don't think it's appropriate for us to discuss this."
"Dunken, who is Avery Winchester?"
He squirmed uncomfortably. For a man who was usually calm, his behavior intrigued me more.
"He was a criminal, your grace."
"Oh, and what criminal act did he commit?"
Dunken clenched his fist. He tried to speak, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He had to grab the hilt of his sword to finally regain his composure.
"My prince… that man, Avery Winchester, practiced the art of the devil. He practiced alchemy, your grace."
"Alchemy?" I asked.
"Yes, it's a forbidden act—one that is outlawed by every kingdom."
"Why?"
"Why?" Dunken looked at me as if he couldn't believe I had asked that question. "Because it is evil, your grace. For centuries, people have tried to crack the secret behind it, but all of them failed. They wasted their lives in a meaningless pursuit. The only person who has ever been successful at alchemy was a demon king from long ago."
A demon king? Enma said my eyes once belonged to a demon king. I didn't know what exactly alchemy was, but one thing was for sure: it had the power to make people afraid enough to ban it.
In my past life, people mostly relied on their strength and their bodies, but I was born a cripple. In this life, people relied on magic, but I had no magic.
I'm tired of being a cripple. I need power of my own. I have been the frog at the bottom of the well for so long that I am now sick of. For once, I want to stand at the penickle of all life. Not just in status either. If I was going to be a king then I needed the power to match.
"What is the punishment for studying alchemy?" I asked, having a inkling of what the answer might be.
"The price is death, your grace."