Marcus Oakheart's hand tightened slightly on Julian's shoulder, not out of anger, but out of a sudden, heavy conflict. The silence in the room changed; it was no longer the cold silence of shock, but the weighted silence of a family weighing a boy's life against his freedom.
Athea stepped closer to the bed, her silk skirts rustling softly on the stone floor. She looked down at Lucian's pale face.
"A cure," she repeated softly. The word seemed to haunt her. "Lucian, the finest healers in the kingdom have walked through these halls. They have all said the same thing that your constitution is simply... fragile.The only one who can heal you a bit was the doctor. Now even he is missing.What makes you think you can find a cure at the academy."
"Because the healers look at me as a patient to be stabilized not cured," Lucian said, his voice gaining a thin edge of iron. "The Academy looks at the world as a mystery to be solved. They have libraries that contain books dating back to the First Age, and there are also professors who study the very essence of life force. If the answer isn't in a tonic or a prayer, Mother, then it must be in the knowledge we don't yet possess."
Julian finally broke away from his father's grip. He knelt by the bed, his face contorted with a mixture of grief and frustration. "And what if something happened to you before you even reach that answer? Three days, Lucian! You were a like a ghost for three days. You're asking us to let you walk into a den of competition and stress when you can barely sit up!"
"Then at least I would have tried rather than just waiting in a hope of a miracle to happen," Lucian countered, looking Julian directly in the eye. "I am tired of waiting for some miracle to happen and I have decided that I will find the answer myself rather than waiting for it. If I stay here, I'm just waiting to disappear. If I go... I'm fighting, fighting to survive."
Selena, who had been on the other side of the bedframe, spoke up, her voice was trembling, but her gaze was fixed on her parents.
"He's right," she whispered. "We can't keep him in a glass box forever. The box is starting to feel like a coffin."
Marcus Oakheart let out a breath that sounded like a groan of a great oak tree in a storm. He walked to the window, looking out over the sprawling estate that had been Lucian's entire world. He knew the boy was right, and that was what terrified him the most.
"The Ivy Rose Academy is not a place for the weak, Lucian," Marcus said, his back still turned. "They will not give you special treatment because of your name or your condition. You will be expected to keep up with the others."
"I know," Lucian said.
"And if you fall behind? If you collapse in a hall where we cannot reach you?"
"Don't worry there will be others who can look after me. The Academy's medical support is one of the best."
Marcus turned around. His stern face was etched with a deep, paternal sorrow, but beneath it, there was a glimmer of respect. He looked at Athea, a silent conversation passing between them that had lasted twenty years. Finally, Athea let out a jagged sigh and reached out, smoothing Lucian's messy hair.
"Very well....
Whether you will be able to attend the academy or not depends on the entrance test result.
If you cannot secure a seat in any of the courses then you have to come back home."
"Yes mother,I promise."
Lucian promised, though his heart hammered against his ribs. This time not with illness, but with the terrifying, beautiful rush of hope.
Julian didn't look happy. He gripped Lucian's hand one last time and said."And if you feel like you can't do it anymore, don't hesitate to run away and come back home. You are not allowed to throw away your life or die out there."
The words may sound a bit blunt, but Lucian knew what his brother really meant. It wasn't about being a coward; it was about Julian's deep love and constant worry for his sick younger brother. To Julian, Lucian's life was worth more than any academy or family pride.
"I promise," Lucian replied, meeting his brother's gaze. "If things get that bad, I will do whatever it takes to survive."
After hearing Lucian's reply, Julian slowly let go of his hand. Though he still looked worried and reluctant, he knew he couldn't change Lucian's mind.
"Fine," Julian said in a low voice, his shoulders finally dropping. "But you need to rest for now. You won't leave for the academy until next week. You need every bit of strength you can get before the journey."
Lucian nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit him. Even though he had been asleep for three days, the emotional weight of the conversation had drained him. His family slowly filed out of the room, leaving him in the quiet of his large, familiar bedroom.
As he lay back against the pillows, Lucian stared at the ceiling. One week. He had seven days to prepare his body and mind for a world he had only ever read about in books. He closed his eyes, thinking about the memories that had caused him to faint. His expression changed but he quickly recovered from it so that no one noticed it.
Over the next few days, the Oakheart mansion became a whirlwind of activity. Despite their fears, his parents spared no expense. They packed trunks with enchanted silks to keep him warm, rare medicinal tonics, and books on the history of the world he had so desperately craved to see.
But for Lucian, the physical preparations were secondary. Every moment he was alone, he retreated into the newfound clarity of his mind. The "past memories" he had recovered were still a fragmented blur, but they acted like a compass, giving him an instinctive understanding of things he had never studied. He spent his nights testing his limits, practicing the breathing techniques he seemed to "remember" to keep his faint heartbeat steady.
Waiting for the day of his departure to come.