Elias Leywin POV
I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to move. The chamber seemed to stretch endlessly before me, a place filled to the brim with solemn majesty. Every detail was carefully detailed, meant to remind visitors of the weight carried by those who sat here.
The high, vaulted ceiling, painted with constellations of gold and silver; the massive crystal chandelier casting warm light across the room; the banners of the three great kingdoms hanging proudly, their colours vibrant and bold.
At the heart of it all stood the curved table, a masterwork of carved oak that formed an open half-circle. Its edges were adorned with intricate engravings depicting alliances and wars long past, moments that shaped the Dicathen's history.
I came to a halt in the centre of the space within the table's arc. Three pairs of monarchs sat before me, their thrones ornate yet each reflecting the style of their own unique people. Behind every royal couple stood a mage, a silent sentinel radiating quiet power, yet it made my skin crawl.
To my left were the dwarven rulers, the Greysuders. King Dawsid Greysunders sat like an unyielding mountain, his thick braided beard streaked with silver, eyes like tempered steel, weighing me as though testing my worth.
Queen Glaudera's presence was no softer, her posture straight and commanding, her gaze assessing every detail of me. Behind them loomed a dwarven battle-mage, broad-shouldered and muscled, his bronze-toned skin gleaming faintly in the crystallight of the room.
To my right sat the Elven sovereigns, the Eraliths. King Alduin Eralith bore the grace of his people, gunmetal silver hair falling on his forehead, with him being clad in silver-trimmed robes. His face was pale, almost otherworldly, his snow-like skin catching the light and making him seem as though carved from moonstone.
This wife, Queen Merial, was elegance personified, her sharp, intelligent eyes following my every breath.
Standing behind them was a pair of elves, first an older man I assumed to be the Elder Virion, my brother spoke of training under him, and secondly their mage, a black-haired female elf so still she could have been a statue, her aura cold yet potent, like a winter's night beneath starlit skies.
Finally, my gaze shifted to the middle, where a pair of familiar faces sat. King Blaine Glayder and Queen Priscilla Glayder represented the human kingdom. King Blaine's broad shoulders and commanding presence filled the space effortlessly, his platinum-trimmed cloak draped over the armrest of his seat.
Queen Priscilla sat poised beside him, serene yet strong, her hands folded gracefully in her lap. Behind them stood a tall mage with platinum blonde hair slicked neatly back, his piercing green eyes scanning me with the precision of a hawk and the feint, silent amusement of a man about to witness a praiseworthy performance.
I drew a steadying breath, my hands curling briefly into fists before I forced them to relax at my sides. The silence stretched, a delicate thread that threatened to snap under the weight of expectation.
It was King Blaine who broke it first. He leaned forward slightly, his powerful frame easing into a more open stance, and His Majesty spoke in a voice both commanding and sincere.
"Elias," he began, his tone carrying clearly across the chamber, "you have my deepest gratitude."
I blinked, caught off guard as he continued, lowering his head just enough for the gesture to carry weight.
"You protected my daughter," he began, his words deliberate, each one landing with quiet force. "When danger came uninvited into our halls, you did not hesitate. You acted where others faltered. For that, both as a king and as a father, I thank you," finished King Blaine with a smile on his face.
The weight of his gratitude struck me harder than I expected, a warmth tinged with humility. I shifted slightly under the combined gazes of the monarchs, feeling the enormity of what I had done.
I dipped my head in return, voice steady despite the nervous thrum in my chest. "Thank you, Your Majesty, but I only did what anyone should have done in that situation," I responded softly.
King Blaine's words still lingered in the air until a deep, steady voice broke the silence from my left.
"Courage aside," King Dawsid started, his tone firm yet measured, like a hammer striking an anvil with purpose, "There's another matter we can not ignore."
My head turned toward him, the weight of his gaze almost as heavy as his words. "Your Majesty?" I asked quietly.
"The magic you used during the attack," he elaborated, leaning forward slightly, his thick hands clasped together on the table. "I've seen all manner of spells in my years, blades of fire, storms of lightning, but what you did last night..."He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"It was unlike anything I've witnessed before. A golden light that tore through another mage's attack as though it was never there to begin with? What kind of magic was that?"
The question pressed on me like a weight. I felt every gaze in the chamber sharpen, waiting for my answer.
"I... don't fully know," I admitted, my voice low but steady. "It isn't a spell I learned from a tutor or a book. It felt more like... something I've always known how to do, though I can't explain why."
King Dawsid's brows furrowed, but he didn't interrupt, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and caution.
Before he could speak again, King Alduin shifted slightly, his silver eyes piercing in their scrutiny. "Instinctive magic of that nature is exceedingly rare," he explained, his tone calm yet unyielding.
"Most mages shape mana into the elements or channel it through known runic structures. You claim to do neither, yet wield a force capable of unravelling another's spell entirely. That is not a trivial thing, Elias."
I swallowed, unsure how to make them understand something I barely understood myself. "It doesn't feel like the other magic I've seen," I said carefully. "It's not fire or wind, or even a mix of them. It feels like I'm... altering what's already there, forcing it to change."
A flicker of surprise crossed Alduin's otherwise stoic expression. "Altering the fabric of matter or mana itself?" he asked, voice quieter now, though the weight behind his words only deepened.
"That borders on magic long thought lost to history." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were trying to see past my skin and into my very core. "Where did this power come from? Is it tied to your bloodline? A blessing? A curse?"
I shook my head slowly. "I don't know. It's been with me as far back as I can remember"
The room fell silent again, though this time it felt heavier, more tense. Even the mages standing behind the thrones shifted ever so slightly, interest flickering in their otherwise composed expressions.
Elder Virion leaned forward, his expression thoughtful but edged with a trace of caution. "If what you're saying is true, boy," he said evenly, "then you're playing with forces few would dare touch. Magic that bends the laws of the world is not kind to those who wield it carelessly."
I felt Elder Virion's words settled on my shoulders like a weight I wasn't sure I could bear. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I know," I replied quietly.
The Elder's expression remained serious, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Then you must learn restraint," he stated firmly. "Power like this is unpredictable. Even the most disciplined of mages would fear to touch what you described."
I gave a small nod, unsure of what else to say. The sound of my heart pounded in my ears, the room was too quiet, and every pair of royal eyes locked onto me as if weighing whether I was a threat or an ally.
It was Queen Glaudera who finally broke the silence, her voice strong and unwavering as she leaned forward slightly. "And what of the healing?" she asked, her sharp gaze narrowing on me.
"Reports stated you were gravely injured during the attack. Witnesses claimed you lost an arm, yet by the time healers reached you, it had already begun to regrow. Such magic is unheard of... Explain yourself, boy."
I froze, caught entirely off guard. My mind raced back to that moment, the searing pain, the crimson flames, the golden light that followed, washing over me in waves until the agony faded, leaving behind only the hollow exhaustion.
"I..." My mouth went dry as I struggled to find words. "I don't know how that happened." My voice came out quieter than before, and I hated how small it sounded in this vast chamber.
Queen Glaudera's brows drew together, doubt etched across her face. "No mage heals like that, not with training nor a known spell. Even the greatest emitters cannot regrow a limb."
I looked down for a moment, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "My mother is an emitter," I said finally, clinging to something that felt solid in this sea of confusion. "She can heal others, close wounds, purge poisons... I thought maybe..." I trailed off, shaking my head.
Elder Virion leaned forward again, his gaze sharp, his tone measured but firm. "That is because emitters cannot heal themselves," he said. "Their magic is outward-facing, meant to channel their mana into another body. Even the strongest emitter would bleed out if left alone."
His eyes narrowed further, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle only he could see. "What you describe, Elias, should be impossible."
"I know," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Finally, Elder Virion spoke again, his voice softer, though no less serious. "This power of yours... it may not just be magic as we know it."
His gaze bore into me, unflinching. "That makes you both extraordinary and dangerous, whether you wish it or not."
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. "I don't want to be dangerous," I said quietly, truthfully. "I just want to protect the people I care about."
Virion studied me for a long moment, then gave the faintest nod, as though he understood even if he didn't fully believe me.
I raised my hand and spoke up, "Um, Elder Virion?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes, Boy?" he questioned, focusing back onto me.
"My Big Brother said that you trained him", I said, looking up at the tall older elf.
"Hm?" he murmured inquisitively, before his eyes widened slightly, turning to the king of Humanity who sat atop his throne in the middle of the monarchs. "Blaine, what is the boy's name?"
King Blaine briefly glanced toward me, then back to the elf. His expression was calm, though there was a faint flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Elias, Elias Leywin," he said simply, his voice carrying easily through the chamber.
The name seemed to settle heavily between us all. Elder Virion's gaze sharpened, studying me as though seeing me for the first time. His brows furrowed, and a faint crease formed at the corner of his mouth, neither a frown nor a smile, just quiet contemplation.
Virion Erailth POV
'Huh... that brat might try to kill me if something happens to the boy.'
"Leywin..." I repeated, my tone low, almost to himself. I straightened slightly in his seat, my voice regaining its earlier firmness. "So, you are the younger brother of that brat."
He nodded hesitantly, almost unsure of where this was going. "If you're referring to Art, then yes, Elder, I am", the young human said softly.
I looked at the boy stroking my goatee, a strange mixture of emotions moved through me as I tried to keep my face mostly neutral. "Your brother... is a student I once had the privilege of teaching," I uttered slowly, glancing briefly toward my son, as though to confirm that this connection wasn't in doubt.
"In my time with him, I came to know his talent for combat magic well. But what you have shown here today, Elias..." I paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
The boy shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. "I didn't even know I had them," he admitted.
I continued to study the boy before me for another long moment, my silvered brows drawn together in thought. "So this power manifested only under mortal threat?"
"Y-yes...?" he stuttered hesitantly, his voice cracking just slightly before he steadied it. "I thought I was going to die. So my body just sort of acted on its own to save me... I guess."
The chamber remained deathly quiet, the weight of every gaze pressing down on me, though none heavier than my own.
"Tell me this, Elias," I began, leaning forward slightly, my hands clasped on the table before me. "Do you believe you could call upon this 'golden light' again, should danger come for you or those you wish to protect?"
"I... I don't know," he truthfully replied, looking down at his feet.
I left the side of my son and daughter-in-law and began my approach towards the boy.
"Then master this magic", I said plainly, my boots sounding against the tiled floor of this chamber. "Power you cannot call upon at will is not power you can trust. Until you understand it, you cannot claim this as a power of your own."
The boy raised his head to look up at me. I lowered a hand onto his head and looked at him with a smile. "If you're anything like your brother, then I am certain you will" I ruffled it slightly as his eyes looked to the woman standing 5 paces behind him.
"Look after this boy, Cynthia"
She lets out a sigh, "I already promised his parents I would do so." She snatched his body away from the me "Now get your grubby mitts off my grandson"
'Grandson?'
"You've already claimed his older brother for your granddaughter, so I'm keeping this one"
'That idiot...'
I raised a finger to my lips and spoke in a hushed tone, "Don't go exposing my plans like that, Cynthia..."
Elias Leywin POV
I let out a heavy sigh as I flop down onto my room's bed.
'What a day...'
I let another breath escape me
I raised my left arm above me as I gathered mana to it.
Golden light gathered around my palm.
'What the hell is this mana? Brother said that he sensed it before I awoke my core... so it probably originates from Avalon if I had to guess.'
The light almost also reminded me of that sword's glow when I freed it from its stone... Could it have something to do with that?
A third exhale left me.
I let my arm fall to my side, bouncing slightly as it hit my bed.
I sat there in silence for a few moments, pondering, thinking, overthinking.
A knock at the door brought me out of my head.
I dragged myself up from the bed with a low groan, each movement sluggish, as if my body was moving through water. The knocking persisted, steady and patient, I rubbed my eyes, muttering under my breath.
"Alright, alright..."
Padding over to the door, I hesitated for a moment before gripping the handle. My mind racing through who it could be.
'Probably Master if I had to guess...'
I pulled the door open slowly, bracing myself for— 'Do I call her Grandma now?' — Grandma's stern but worried expression. Instead, I was met by someone else entirely.
An older man stood in the doorway, his frame tall but slightly stooped with age. His clothes were plain, functional, the kind worn by staff who've seen more years of service than most adventurers see battles. A well-kept but greying beard framed a weathered face marked with deep lines, each one telling a story I did not know.
I froze, hand still on the door handle.
He studied me for a moment with calm, assessing eyes.
"Evenin', lad," he said, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Figured I'd see how you were holding up after... well, after today."
I blinked, caught off guard. My thoughts tripped over themselves as I tried to figure out what to say. "Uh... I'm fine," I muttered, though it sounded unconvincing, even to me.
"Would you join me in seeing my Lord and Lady?" he asked, hiding a demand within an offering, the illusion of choice.
'Seriously?'
I put on a fake smile, "Of course, Mr..."
"Warend, Olfred Warend", he introduced, touching his left shoulder with his opposite arm.
With his introduction, he led me through the winding halls of the Glayder's Home until we reached the doors to a large room brimming with luxury.
The Brown-haired dwarf coughed slightly before announcing, "Your majesties, I've brought the boy"
The grand doors swung open on silent hinges, revealing a chamber that seemed almost too large for the number of people inside. Rich crimson carpets led the way toward a pair of ornate thrones carved from obsidian and inlaid with gold.
We stepped inside, the doors closing with a thud, shortly followed by a click of the locks.
King Dawsid Greysunder sat upon the leftmost one, his towering dwarven frame dressed in layers of black and bronze ceremonial armour that glinted under the soft light of crystal sconces. Beside him, Queen Glaudera watched with quiet poise, her keen eyes following me as I hesitantly stepped into the room.
Olfred gave a short bow before stepping aside, leaving me alone in the open space before the thrones. My legs felt heavier with every step I took forward, my hands fidgeting uselessly at my sides. The king's gaze locked onto me, sharp and unwavering, as though he's peeling away every excuse I might try to give before I can even form it.
"Boy," King Dawsid rumbles, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber like distant thunder. "I've been told you wield a curious power. One that can heal beyond what even skilled mages can muster." He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "Tell me, can these powers of yours be used on others?"
My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling for an answer that won't sound completely foolish.
"I... I d-don't know," I stammered, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
The Dwarven king didn't move, didn't blink, just studied me like a craftsman studying a flawed blade. "You don't know," he repeated, his tone low and even, but laced with something heavier beneath it.
I opened my mouth, desperate to explain, but no words came. The air felt thick, like the weight of his expectations were pressing down on my chest, suffocating me.
After a long silence, King Dawsid exhaled through his nose and turned his head towards Olfred, his gaze a wordless command, one that the younger man seemed to understand immediately.
Olfred stepped forward without hesitation, raising one weathered hand as mana gathered thickly in the air. The temperature spiked almost instantly, the oppressive heat of a forge filling the chamber. A blade began to form in his grasp, molten magma shaped into the crude edge of a longsword, its surface cracking and hissing as if it was alive.
My breath caught in my throat, eyes darting between the burning weapon and the king's unreadable expression.
"Perhaps," Dawsid Greysunder said at last, his voice as unyielding as stone, "We'll see for ourselves what this golden magic of yours is truly capable of."
"Sorry, Kid", he said as he began the downward arc of his swing.
I raised my arms to cover myself from the overwhelming heat of his blade.
"Hey, Wait-"
His blade fell with a thunderous fury.
Magma met my flesh as the makeshift blade sliced straight through my left forearm.
'What the actual fuck...'
I fell to my knees, clutching my elbow and upper forearm.
A wave of terror overwhelms me as tears fall from my eyes.
WC – 3341
Thanks for reading this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. 😊
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Rius out.