Elias Leywin POV
I let out a groan, pressing a hand to my head.
What happened...
My thoughts feel sluggish, as if I'm stuck in fog. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the soft light that seems to filter through the air itself. I squint and raise a hand to shield my face, then slowly push myself upright.
It's so quiet.
Too quiet.
No birds. No wind. Not even the faint hum of insects. Just stillness, like the whole world is holding its breath.
I press my palm against the ground, the blades of grass cool and strangely unmoving under my touch. I rise to my feet, brushing my clothes off as I look around.
I'm standing in the middle of a vast meadow, an endless sea of flowers, swaying gently even though there's no breeze. Blues, purples, whites, and golds stretch to the horizon in every direction.
I've never seen a place like this.
Where... am I?
This place... it doesn't feel real.
It's too soft, too quiet, too perfect. There's a stillness to it all that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I turn in place slowly, searching for anything, trees, hills, or even a path. Anything to anchor me, to offer any sense of understanding.
In my confusion, I hear a laugh from behind me. It's almost musical jumping pitch as I almost jump out of my skin.
"Shit" I murmur as I had heard Papa say before
I freeze, turning slowly to face the voice.
A girl stands just a few steps away, peeking at me from between tall stalks of bluebells. She looks about my age. Her hair is white, like snow, and falls in long straight sheets down her back. She's wearing a silver-blue dress that flutters gently around her knees. Her eyes are violet, clear and calm, possessing a wisdom beyond her apparent age.
"...Hi?" I offer, hesitantly.
She doesn't answer immediately. She tilts her head slightly, eyes sparkling with quiet amusement, and then she smiles. It's a strange smile, not unkind, but... knowing. Like she understands something I don't, or knows a secret she cannot share.
"You scare so easily," she says, her voice light and teasing.
I scowl and rub at my arm. "I do no- Have we done this before?"
She cracks a solemn smile.
"Your name is Nimue, and this place is called Avalon, right?"
"I'm glad you remember me, Elias", she says as she rushes towards me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
"Thank you." She pulls back, keeping her hands on my shoulders as she looks at me.
Before I can ask what that means, she steps back and holds out her hand. "Come. Walk with me."
I glance past her, at the endless stretch of meadow. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," she replies simply, that strange, calm smile still playing at her lips.
I hesitate, then take her hand. Her fingers are cool, but not cold. She begins walking, and I follow her through the sea of swaying colour.
"So..." I start after a few moments of silence. "Are you real?"
She laughs again, not mocking this time, more like I've said something sweetly obvious. "What do you think?"
"That's not an answer," I grumble.
"It is for now."
We walk past pale flowers that open and close as we pass, as if breathing. There's still no sun in the sky, but everything is lit with a soft glow, like the whole world is trapped in a gentle dawn.
"Why do you know my name?" I ask.
"I've been waiting for you."
That's not creepy at all.
I open my mouth, but she speaks again before I can fire another question.
"Not here," she adds. "Somewhere... deeper. You were always going to find me, no, rather, I was always going to find you, Lias."
"That's not my-" I pause, letting out a heavy exhale.
The meadow changes as we go, subtly at first. The flowers grow taller, brushing against my waist. Then I notice the colours deepening, blues turning to indigo, white blossoms glowing like tiny moons.
"What is this place really?" I ask, spinning slowly as I walk. "Is this... mana? Like a dream made of mana?"
She glances back at me, surprised. "You're getting closer."
"So it is a dream?"
"Avalon itself is dreamlike, but it is undeniably real, but this place is more than that." She gestures with her hand, fingers trailing through a ripple of golden petals. "This is a memory."
"Yours?"
"Yours."
I blink. "But I've never been here."
"Not like this," she says softly. "But parts of you have. Echoes and Fragments of your sense of self have."
That doesn't make any sense. "You're doing that thing again. The weird not-talking-talking thing."
She giggles, skipping a little ahead. "You ask so many questions. That hasn't changed."
"What has changed?" I press, jogging to keep up.
She doesn't answer me this time, just lets go of my hand and continues to walk ahead of me.
I stopped dead in my tracks and shouted louder than I had intended, "Nimue", I cried.
She continues to walk away.
"What is going on?"
"It seems we have less time together than I thought..."
She spins around, hands behind her back, where she stands roughly 20 meters ahead.
She raises on hand and points it at me
Huh?
I look down as my body grows translucent.
"Damn..."
"Living creatures aren't supposed to be on Avalon's plane, even if it's through a memory"
"Then how am I here? How was I able to make such a memory?"
I question as my torso grows less visible.
"Elias... You will learn all you need to, given enough time"
"What is that supposed to even mean, Nimue?"
She walks towards me, closing our distance enough that she is able to place her hand on my cheek.
"You've made fantastic progress. Grow stronger and you will learn the answers to all you seek..." She rubs her thumb over my cheekbone, "My Prince"
"Prin-"
~~~
I jolt upright with a sharp gasp.
My breath comes in short, uneven pulls, and for a moment, I don't know where I am. The light in the room is soft and grey, slipping in through the curtains in quiet lines. The scent of old wood, linen, and morning air settles around me. I'm back in my bed.
My hand rises to my face, my cheek, where her fingers had touched me. The spot feels cool, as if her touch had left a lingering echo.
"...Was that... real?"
My voice sounds small in the room, hoarse from sleep. I glance around, half-expecting her to be there, half-hoping I'd still see that impossible field outside my window. But it's gone. The world here is too solid.
"That place... Avalon," I murmur, pressing a hand to my chest. "Of course it is, it felt more real than here."
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and let my legs hang.
"'My prince,'" I repeat aloud, testing the words in the air. They sound ridiculous coming from me.
What did she mean? Why call me that?
She said she'd been waiting for me, but for what?
And she acts like she knows me better than I know myself?
"...It's like she knew what I was going to ask before I did," I whisper, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
I furrow my brow.
"She said this was a memory. My memory." I shake my head slowly. "But I've never been there before... have I?"
I try to hold onto the details, her eyes, her smile, the way the flowers shimmered like water under moonlight, but it's already starting to slip away, like waking up from a dream you swore you'd remember. I grit my teeth.
"No, not this time. I will remember."
I stand, stretching as I glance at the mirror. My reflection looks the same as I usually do, if you ignore my hair standing up on end.
"I'm not crazy," I mutter, half to myself, half to the still air of the room. "This is real. I know it is. I don't care what anyone says."
I begin to press down my Grey-brown hair, running my fingers through the smooth strands as I push it back, letting it fall on either side of my head.
I stare a moment longer until a sudden realisation washes over me.
"Arthur," I breathe, suddenly wide awake. "He's leaving today."
I stare at the door like it might open on its own. The image of my brother, cloak slung over one shoulder, stepping out with that calm look in his eyes, fills my mind.
"What if he's already?"
I don't finish the thought. I bolt.
My legs carry me faster than my mind can keep up, down the hallway and toward the stairs. My half-fastened boots slap against the floorboards as I skid down the steps, nearly slipping on the last one as I round the corner into the entryway.
"Art!" I shout, voice ringing through the still house.
But the silence answers back.
I begin my approach towards the front door.
"Good Afternoon, sleepyhead", my mother says, her arms crossed before her chest.
I look up at her wide-eyed.
"Your brother left a few hours ago, we didn't want to wake you since he said that you two had already said your goodbyes", she says, an air of sadness clings to every word.
"I see..."
My mother closes the distance between us and scoops me up
"Lias, I was just about to make Ellie some food. Would you like to help?"
I let out a slight nod as she carried me to the Kitchen.
~~~
It's been a little over two months since Arthur left to become an adventurer. In that time, I spent almost every waking moment, that I didn't have with the various tutors my sister and I had access to thanks to the Helsteas, Training.
From noon till dusk, I had been practising the various spells that my brother had shown me, as well as refining my mana core through both meditation and practising Mana Rotation like he had taught me just prior to his leaving.
As Practising how to fight...
My father's (Wooden) blade swings in a downward arc towards me.
I use a burst of wind mana between us to send us both flying back, myself more than the 200 lbs man that I'm sparing.
I exert a smaller burst behind me to slow myself.
After grounding my feet, I hold my arm straight, throwing away my own blade.
How did this go again...
My father begins to find his own footing.
Damn it, Here goes nothing.
"Oh, Stone, I ask you to offer your strength..."
To hell with that...
I loosen the tension in my arm and raise my wrist, causing a stone the size of my head to rise, hovering just before me.
Using my wind mana, I hold it in place whilst I chafe off its odd clumps until it's a near-perfect sphere.
"Not bad," Father grunts, adjusting his grip on his practice sword. His arms are lightly dusted with soot from his earlier flame-enhanced strikes, and the collar of his shirt is singed, but his expression is nothing but proud and focused.
He plants his feet. "But I hope that's not just for show."
"Of course not," I mutter, forcing the stone forward with a push of wind. The air thrums around me, currents twisting and guiding the sphere like invisible fingers.
The stone shoots toward him, and with a growl, he slashes at it, his wooden blade flaring bright red. A trail of fire follows the arc of his swing as the stone explodes into fragments, showering us in a rain of pebbles and dust.
"Seriously?" I mutter to myself as my father begins his push.
The man is relentless.
Though I guess I get that from him.
Each of his steps sends a dull thump through the ground, his presence is like a furnace, with its heat steadily advancing as he continues to press onward.
I throw out my hand and slide two fingers across.
Another stone shoots up beside me, far smaller this time, and with a twist of my fingers and a surge of wind mana, I fire it like a bullet.
He doesn't even dodge.
His blade meets it mid-air, and it shatters like glass. Splinters scrape his cheek, but he barely flinches.
"You're hesitating," he calls as he picks up speed. "You've got more in you than pretty tricks, Lias. Show me."
"Careful what you ask for," I grit out, sliding one foot back into stance.
I bring both of my hands to my right side, holding one just above the other.
In the gap, I push wind mana between my palms. A high-pitched hum builds instantly as the air compresses. I keep focusing, compressing, rotating, and coiling the mana in tighter and tighter spirals until it starts to take form.
The air begins to shimmer.
A pale glow gathers at the centre, and a low hum vibrates through my arms.
"Now what are you cooking up?" my father says, slowing his approach slightly. His smile is still there, but he's not laughing anymore.
I grit my teeth. Sweat beads down my temple as the pressure builds between my palms. The glow brightens, shifting from a faint silver to a vibrant blue-green.
My arms start to shake from the strain.
Not yet... not until he's closer.
5
4
3
2
1
With my father about 10 meters ahead of me, I decide to take my chances.
The sound rises into a high-pitched whine as I near the threshold.
I slam my wrists together and shove my hands forward.
"WIND LANCE"
I cry, invoking my spell.
The compressed air explodes outward in a massive beam, like a horizontal tornado made solid. It screams across the sparring yard, flattening the grass and gouging the ground beneath it as it flies.
My father's eyes flash, and his entire body flares with fire. He slams his foot down and brings up both of his arms, channelling mana into a barrier of heat.
The blast slams into him.
The air howls. Dust and debris are launched skyward. Heat lashes at my face even from where I stand, my arms still extended, muscles locked in place.
I can barely see through the gale, but I hear the clash of elements as the spell meets resistance and then I feel the feedback as my mana thins, drained in one massive pulse.
It's too much.
My knees buckle.
I fall onto my back, softening my fall with whatever little mana I have left, gasping, as the spell finally sputters out.
After a few seconds of violence, Silence returns in its wake.
The field is a mess, a scorched path of earth carved clean through the training yard, lines of displaced stone, and a smouldering haze floating in the air.
A gust of wind blows in and clears the residual dust that clings to the air as a figure makes his way through the haze.
It kneels down over me and pokes my forehead.
"I win", my father says, smirking.
I squint up at him through the haze, still trying to breathe through lungs that feel like they've been wrung out and set on fire. "You're... the worst, Papa."
He chuckles, low and rumbling, and sits back on his heels beside me. The faint heat still rising from his body makes the air waver around him.
"Not bad, though," he admits after a moment. "I thought I was gonna have to dig myself out of the back wall."
"Was... that a compliment?" I groan, trying and failing to sit up.
"Don't push it." He nudges me gently with the heel of his palm. "That was a solid spell, Lias, but it didn't really pack any punch to it, it was flashy, sure, but..."
"But I put my all into it..." I interject in a downtrodden tone.
"You've only just reached Dark Red, Lias, and as a Conjurer, your spells will get stronger as your mana core improves and your mana veins strengthen." My father says, wagging his finger at me.
A feminine voice cuts over my father.
"It seems Talent really does run in your family, Mr. Leywin"
WC – 2729
Thanks for reading this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. 😊
All Criticism and feedback are welcome. Any suggestions for the story or plot are also more than welcome.
Apologies for the shortness of this chapter. I was originally intending to include the start of Chapter 12 in this, but it would've reached near 5k words, and I wanted this one done early.
If we're all still alive, the next chapter will be released at 12 Likes or on Wednesday.
Rius out.