As Edward approached him, he offered a courteous greeting, "Good day, Mr. Mage. I am Knight Commander Edward, here to escort you to the duke's manor." The mage nodded slightly, his eyes still distant, as he fell into step behind Edward.
As they walked, Edward's hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of his sword. It was a habitual gesture. Then, a sudden, foolish impulse—a warrior's urge to establish hierarchy through strength—flared within him.
However, the moment his fingers made contact with the metal, the air around them seemed to thicken, becoming oppressively heavy.
Edward's heart skipped a beat as he froze, his hand recoiling from the sword. Fear and awe battled across his features as he realized the mage had sensed his movement, despite being seemingly distracted.
The crushing pressure emanating from the mage was unmistakable – a hallmark of a sublimated being. Edward's foolish notions were swiftly extinguished, replaced by a healthy dose of respect.
The unsettling silence that followed was palpable, weighing heavily on Edward as he led the way through the winding corridors.
The mage's presence seemed to fill the space around them, and Edward found himself taking deeper breaths with each step. The sound of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls was the only break in the silence.
As they walked, Edward couldn't help but steal glances at the mage, searching for some sign of emotion or weakness, but the mage's expression remained inscrutable.
The silence continued, unbroken, until they finally arrived at the door to the duke's study.
Watching the mage enter, Edward felt a sudden relief. His breathing smoothed out. He looked down at his sword, deep in thought.