“This—this is twenty times my monthly allowance.”

Demund gaped at the value of the school funds they’d been given. His friends were filling out other forms to become official—he was in charge of planning events to use the funds on.

“It’s enough for three hundred cans of soda,” Rhyne shrugged. “For five people, it isn’t that much.”

“The bigger clubs receive much more,” Kacy said. “Do you like money, Demund?”

“Of course. I don’t think anyone dislikes it.”

His family didn’t spend much on anything other than food and basic necessities. His parents, being older, had built up the habit of saving. They didn’t particularly make much. Only his father worked. His mother usually remained home while taking care of the house. Demund wasn’t much of a glutton, and since he hadn’t felt the need to buy things due to the entertainment he’d gotten from the other world, he saved his money as well. But still, that didn’t mean that he didn’t want money.

The only problem was that he didn’t know how to use it other than for food.

“That’s a good thing,” Kacy nodded. “It will be motivation.”

“But I’m satisfied with this much,” Demund smiled. “We’ll be able to go to a nice restaurant or something.”

“Or buy games we can play together,” Rhyne suggested.

“I’m pretty sure the money is meant for club activities,” Riley snorted.

“Playing games together can be a club activity.”

“But you’re the only one with a console.”

“Does…that matter?”

“Wait, Demund,” Alina asked, “you said that the funds were twenty times your allowance. Does that mean—”

“Yep, it hasn’t changed.”

“But you’re in high school?”

“Well, I don’t use money too much.”

Alina looked at him with shock. “Eating out with friends? Buying clothes? Watching movies? Buying songs? Don’t you do any of those?”

“I mean, yeah. Sometimes.”

“With the amount you get?”

“I save it up. Jothan did the same as well.”

“Right. You two were similar.”

“I guess,” Demund shrugged.

“It’s up to the club leader to decide how the money will be used,” Kacy told everyone. “Based on your reactions, everyone here gets plenty of pocket money, don’t they? Except for Demund. I think it will be fine to give it all to him. Besides, this amount is supposed to last us for a year.”

Rhyne tilted his head. “A year? I thought it was monthly.”

“Small club, small rewards,” Riley sighed. “I don’t mind how the money is used.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy us pizza,” Demund grinned. “I don’t want to go to jail for embezzlement.”

“Is it embezzlement if we agree to it? And if you’re going to use it…why not buy games? They’re more permanent than pizza.”

Demund tapped on a line on the paper he’d received. “Look. All funds to the club must be used for the benefit of the club’s activities. I don’t think playing games is one of them.”

“Ah.”

“You get more money than me,” Riley said, punching Rhyne on the arm lightly. “Where does all that money go?”

“Drinks, snacks, and—erm, clothes.”

“He means in-game purchases and skins,” Riley clarified.

“If I don’t use it, my sister takes it,” Rhyne reasoned.

“You could put it in the bank.”

“Well—I do. A little.”

“And the rest?”

“Did you see the new skins that came out? Man, they really outdid the effects this time.”

While Riley and Rhyne bickered together, Demund began planning the schedule for the club he would have to submit to the advisor, Ms. Clarn. Despite saying that she was busy, she was helping them progress diligently, making sure they were doing things properly. If they showed progress, even if they didn’t get more club members, their funds would rise. If they were lucky, they would make it into the school’s pamphlets and other forms of advertisement. It seemed a long way off, but it would get them noticed. That was the real reason why he’d agreed to start the club, after all.

They would film every practice session and make the mood for the video casual. Kacy had planned out the ins and outs for how they would film and operate their channel; she would also be in charge of the editing. They’d filmed their first video, and Demund was surprised that it had gotten more views than he’d expected. Around ten times more. Currently, the view count was nearly two hundred. It was less than the students in the school, but it was something.

It was nowhere near enough according to Kacy. A regular upload schedule would definitely increase their views—so now they met every day. Demund was always tired now, but it was never anything a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.

“What do you guys want to do next week?” he asked. “I could begin teaching Rhyne other spells if we need content.”

Rhyne’s eyes lit up. “That would be—”

“We don’t need to rush,” Kacy said. “We need to keep the concept of being casual, everyday people who are able to learn magic. That way, it will seem like anyone can learn it. If one person proceeds too quickly, it won’t be any different from any other superpower video.”

“I mean, I could learn it first,” Rhyne muttered. “I can act like I don’t know it later.”

“Are you a good actor?” Kacy asked.

“Yes.”

“No,” Riley shook his head. “I know you’re bored, but think about Demund as well. He’ll be too tired.”

“Mmmmmm.” Rhyne didn’t seem too happy.

“I can buy you a game to keep you occupied,” Demund suggested. “Would that be okay?”

Rhyne’s eyes lit up the second time. “Oh! I mean, if you insist—actually, I can wait.”

He plopped face-down on the desk.

“You sure?” Demund asked, slightly worried. “We have enough for one game.”

“It’s not a club activity,” Rhyne recalled. “Besides, you guys need a cameraman. I’m pretty sure I am the best filmer here.”

“You are,” Kacy agreed.

“The faster you guys learn the light spell, the earlier Rhyne can learn other things,” Demund said. “Then without further ado, let’s begin!”

It wasn’t thirty minutes before Riley clapped his hands. Everyone turned their heads to him, and he laughed softly, pointing a finger out.

“Look.”

They all looked—and saw nothing.

“Okay, then. Turn off the lights.”

They did. And from the tip of Riley’s finger, a faint glowing cloud bubbled in front of their eyes. It was very weak, much different from what Rhyne had done, but Demund knew that the magic was the same.

“For some reason, I can’t seem to focus more mana into it,” Riley said after the lights were turned back on.

“I have a theory,” Demund guessed. “I think it has to do with the difference between Rhyne’s power and yours. Yours is a passive ability that allows you to be calm all the time, but Rhyne doesn’t always see things in slow motion. Your powers control your mana as well, so the two must be linked…”

As he’d thought before, there was a need to teach them how to circulate. He wasn’t sure how he would do it, but to use magic properly, it would be necessary.

“That might be the case,” Riley agreed. “My ability is pretty passive, after all.”

“You guys will have to learn to control your mana,” Demund told them. “That means practice, practice, and more practice. I’ll try to find an easier way, but keep practicing for now.”

Now, it was just Alina and Kacy who would have to learn. By the way things were progressing, they would be able to move on to other spells in no time. All the while, their Viggle channel was growing.

Had Enariss been present, how good would she have been?

But he wouldn’t think about her for now. He had students he had to teach.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“It’s quite simple,” Garthan said, swallowing a spoonful of soup. “You send your mana through your student’s body so that they can understand what it feels like.”

Shaden pursed his lips. “Is it that simple?”

“How fast the student learns depends on them,” Garthan told him. “Naturally, there are those who can completely take control over the recipient’s body and forcefully circulate the mana within it, but it requires much skill and energy. In most cases, it is better to let the student learn by themselves.”

“Can you circulate other people’s mana?”

“I’m not adept at it. But I’m sure the Instructors of the Swordsmanship Training Academies can. Why do you want to know?”

“I was suddenly curious,” Shaden lied, putting a fork in his mouth. “Maybe I’ll have to teach someone in the future. Like Melany.”

His little sister turned to look at him, chewing on her food. Her unrelenting gaze made him look away with a sheepish smile.

“I’d advise against it. Tampering with other people’s circulation veins can be dangerous. If you accidentally change someone’s natural mana flow, they may never be able to circulate again.”

“Is it that dangerous?”

“There is a story of a magician and his student that I heard when I began to learn,” Garthan began. “The magician’s student wished to become the fastest in all of the land. To fulfill his wish, the magician gave his student four more legs to run with. But because the student did not know how to control the four additional legs, he became slower than he originally was, leading to his demise.”

“I think I understand the idea.”

Garthan nodded. “That is why it is important to know someone’s natural mana flow before tampering with it. But mana veins can be difficult to detect if the person has never circulated before. Hence, letting them learn naturally is much better and safer.”

“I have no idea what the two of you are talking about,” Melsei interjected with a confused look. “Can we talk about what we will do here?”

“Yes,” said Shaden and his dad at the same time.

It had been a while since Shaden’s family had moved to Raconel. Nearly a month to be specific. They had originally planned to stay for two weeks, but Practol had suggested that they stay until Shaden’s training was over. Garthan’s job as a guard captain wouldn’t pose a problem with the connections Practol had, and the man had even gone so far as to offer Garthan a new position if he wished for one at the capital. Garthan had refused as he and his wife had friends back at Danark, but staying for a year had been an alluring offer.

In the end, they’d decided to stay until the winter for the time being. The problem now was what they would do. Shaden was still busy with training, and that left his family to their own devices. Garthan and Melsei could enjoy the luxuries that Practol had promised them, but Melsei had been against it.

“We need to find a school for Melany,” she stated. “Or a tutor. She can’t stay home all of the time. Her only friend is the cat.”

Shaden remembered how elated his sister had been when he and Eilae had stayed in their house in Danark for a while. The fact that she didn’t have anyone else to play with hadn’t been surprising back then as she was younger, but he hadn’t expected the situation to remain the same.

“I can ask Practol,” Shaden suggested. “He can find Melany a noble school to attend.”

“A noble school?”

Melsei scowled, her expression turning dark. “We are not nobles.”

Shaden had rarely seen his mother make such a face before. Thankfully, Garthan spoke before it became too quiet.

“A normal school will do,” he said, “somewhere with many children. It’s very important to have social interaction.”

“Yes,” Shaden agreed. “Will she learn magic as well?”

“A modest introduction should be good.”

“I can do that much.”

“Can you? That would be wonderful. But nothing dangerous.”

“Of course.”

Friends. Melany was seven, but friends would still be very important. Like his mother had said, her only friend was Shidey. That wasn’t a good sign, as good as Shidey was.

“I’ll ask Practol as soon as possible,” Shaden said.

“No, that’s okay,” Melsei shook her head. “We will search for a school ourselves. I don’t feel very comfortable leaving everything to that man.”

“You…dislike him?”

“Of course not. But he seems…”

His mother frowned. “I can’t quite put a finger on it. But he has been doing too much for us. We should try to do things for ourselves.”

He’d forgotten how strong-willed his mother was. Once she’d put her mind into something, it was rare that she ever backed out from it.

“But if there is anything I’d want from him…”

She trailed off, turning to her husband. Garthan nodded once.

“I will ask Practol,” he said.

“What is it? I could ask him,” Shaden suggested.

“You should focus on your studies,” Garthan smiled, patting Shaden’s head. “Your mother has a few people she would like to find.”

“Find? What for?”

“My sisters,” she answered. “I was separated from them when I was young.”

Before he knew it, his mother’s eyes had become moist, and she padded the tears away with a cloth. “It’s been many years. I don’t expect much.”

“We can hope, dear. I’m sure there will be a way.”

It was the first time he’d heard of it. Then again, he’d always wondered where his grandparents and relatives on his mother’s side had been since they’d never been mentioned, and whenever Rother had brought the topic up, they had been vague about it, saying that they were far away. Shaden looked at his mother like he was seeing a stranger.

She had never talked about herself much. There was so little she knew about her. The thought of asking had never come to him. How had he been so indifferent to his family?

“Can you tell me what their names are?” Shaden asked carefully.

“I would never forget them,” Melsei nodded. “Their names are Nela and Milsa. Nela and Milsa Greenstone.”

Shaden nodded, burning the two names into his mind.

But before everything else, it was time to find a suitable place where Melany could make friends.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“An excellent choice,” Practol beamed, spreading his arms out wide. “We provide the best education there is here. After all, I treat all of the children as if they are my sons and daughters.”

In the end, they decided to leave Melany in the orphanage that Practol took care of for the time being. The children were well-mannered and disciplined from what Shaden had seen, and it was true that they received a good education. All of the children knew how to read and write as well as do simple calculations, and some even knew how to cast magic. The orphanage was the best there was in the city according to Practol.

“They are taught how to circulate as well,” the man said proudly. We have Instructors come over often as well as scholars. My best men at work have been raised in the orphanage, so you can leave your daughter here without worry.”

“But I am surprised,” Melsei said. “I didn’t know that you were a charitable person. I had heard that you were a noble.”

“A small one to say the least. But I see a future in every one of those children. It is less charity but rather a hopeful investment. Not for myself, but for them and the nation.”

“Would it be alright for me to stay here and watch?” Melsei asked.

“Of course. Please.”

So while Garthan and Practol went aside to talk, Melsei and Melany joined the children of the orphanage for their daily routines, which at that time was reading together. Melsei had learned to read some, and she seemed excited to see so many new faces who were similar in age to hers.

“Shaden, let’s go,” Shpiel motioned.

But for Shaden, it was time to go on his missions.

The task for the day was to act as guards at a gambling house to keep an eye out for cheaters and thieves. It seemed mundane, but it would be good practice for him. After suiting up, wearing thicker shoes, and changing his appearance with a wig and some magic, he emerged alone into the busy room with his hands behind his back, trying to look intimidating. He was a muscular man with a gruff voice, and he vaguely knew how to act the part.

Shpiel would be attending to more important matters. It was usually like this: Shaden would tag along, doing small, unnoticeable tasks while Practol or Shpiel took care of larger matters in the background. He’d made a lot of mistakes at first, but a month of practice was enough to make him smoother in his actions. The way he turned his head, the length of his strides, the angle of his chin, the depth of his eyes, the wrinkles on his face—he’d picked up so many things during the month. But he still lacked many.

The answer was practice and more practice.

“Sir, magic is strictly prohibited within the area,” Shaden growled, grabbing a man by the arm. The man looked up, confusion painted all over his face.

“Magic? What in the king’s name are you saying?” he scoffed, trying to rip his hand away. He failed.

“You have three inscribed crystals in your pocket,” Shaden stated, masterfully reaching into the man’s pocket and taking the orbs out. “You have broken the rules. You are hereby dismissed.”

“But my money is still on the—”

Without hearing a second word, Shaden lifted the man and dragged him to the doors, throwing him out as gently as possible without breaking his act. He felt bad treating the man like this, but this would be a one-time thing. He was playing the part of an indisputable man with a stern attitude, and such a man wouldn’t give time to cheaters for them to collect their money. No; he would just throw them out.

The man glared daggers at Shaden.

“You should be thankful I didn’t take you to prison!” Shaden roared, causing the man to flinch. A look of terror and realization came over the man’s face, and he scurried away, swiftly vanishing from his sight.

One of the punishments for cheating was getting one’s hands cut off. Had Shaden restrained the man and kept him for the city guards, he would have suffered a worse fate. Gambling houses were strictly regulated by the government, and at the top of it was the king. In the worst case, execution could be served.

Shaden cleared his throat. His voice had been satisfyingly menacing. Not too low like the last time when he’d almost sounded robotic, but just right with the correct pitches.

He headed back inside. To be fair, there were quite a few people with hidden devices in their pockets as well as the smallest traces of mana that lingered in the air. But as a normal guard would not be able to detect such things, he let them slide. His job was to catch the blatant cheaters, not the masters.

“Good work there, new guy,” one of the guards told him with a nod. “You’re doing this for one day, correct?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I need quick money.”

“Good. Catch a few more and you’ll be paid more.”

So at the end of the day, he caught a total of four cheaters, all of who were very obvious about it. Then again, he did have a keen perception and had been focusing on them even before they’d taken their tools out, but with a little luck, anyone would have caught them. Shpiel (in his disguise) beckoned him over at the end of his shift, and they left the gambling house, Shaden with a small pouch of coins in his pocket that he’d earned.

“Four, eh? You have a keen eye,” Shpiel whistled. “I couldn’t believe that it was your first day. You’ve improved very much.”

“Thank you,” Shaden grinned. “There were more, but they didn’t make it obvious. Should I have caught them as well?”

“More?”

“One person was very, very subtle,” Shaden explained. “He was very good at casting illusions, I think. I saw his cards shift quite a few times. The ones whose appearances had changed had a thin layer of mana on them. Other people didn’t act altogether or cheated without using magic.”

“What!” Shpiel exclaimed. “I didn’t sense this man. What did he look like?”

“He had a broad hat on with a thick coat. With a beard.”

“There exists someone who has evaded my perception. We have to get back to the house at once!”

When they returned to the gambling house, said person—who had been there just minutes before—had vanished. After Shpiel asked the guards where he had gone, they told him that the man had left just a minute before, taking all of his money with him.

“Sinkhole,” Shpiel muttered. “So he strikes again.”

“Sinkhole?”

“That is the name many have for him,” Shpiel explained. “He sucks in coins like a hole in the earth. For years and years, he comes and goes without being caught. Always, traces of magic are detected after he leaves, but never when he is present.”

Shpiel shrugged with a sigh. “Just like we hide our appearance, there are those who can hide their mana, like you. But I suspect Sinkhole is someone who can do both—just like you.”

“Ah. I think I understand.”

“No matter. Again, he escapes. Sinkhole should worry as the royalty have an eye out for him, but that is none of our business.”

“What did you talk about in there?” Shaden asked.

“Oh, the usual. Making arrangements, seeing old faces, catching bigger thieves,” Shpiel smiled. “Cheating does not only happen down at the tables. Bigger frauds are made in the upper layers.”

His work had felt slow, but listening to Shpiel made his day a lot more exciting.

“Do you think we’ll run into Sinkhole again?” he asked.

“Perhaps if we are lucky. You must have very keen senses to notice the man.”

Shaden regretted not putting a marker on the man. So instead, he asked Practol to wait for a minute while he swiftly sent a pulse of detection over a kilometer-wide radius, circulating madly to focus on every single lifeform. He still remembered the man’s unique mana.

“Shaden. You…”

He didn’t quite hear Shpiel. Within twenty seconds, he found the man and placed a marker on him. Just before he retracted his detection, he thought he saw the man glance towards his direction.

“What did you do?” Shpiel asked. “Your mana is rampaging throughout your body!”

“This is natural,” Shaden said, wiping his head.

“It was quite unnatural,” Shpiel frowned. “Your mana seemed to emerge, but the moment it did—it vanished.”

“You could tell?”

“You get an eye for mana when you deal with illusions hourly.”

Shpiel hadn’t been able to sense his detection magic as he’d mixed it with his stealth ability. He decided that it was a coincidence that Sinkhole had turned around as his magic was undetectable.

“Don’t worry,” Shaden told Shpiel. “I was reorganizing my mana pool as it is too big.”

“Is that…possible?”

Shaden didn’t know what he was saying. “It’s an exercise for my health.

Shpiel nodded with a frown. “If you say so,” he said slowly, changing directions. “My, it was a long day, wasn’t it? Should we grab some treats before we head back?”

“Yes!”

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“How peculiar.”

The man in the alleyway nodded to himself, looking at where his body had been affected. The sensation had come out of nowhere, and he hadn’t noticed the magic being cast on him before it was too late. It was now on his body, unnoticeable at a glance.

He’d believed that he was fairly skilled at detecting curses or enchantments, but the spell cast on him seemed to be completely absent from his body. He knew it was there; he was too careful to think otherwise. What he was doing would never be approved by anyone which was why he’d hidden himself meticulously for the sake of entertainment. But now, someone had noticed.

Someone had put something on him.

“Markendrath,” he whispered.

His kindred reacted to his call. Magic enveloped him, and a circle of power appeared beneath his feet.

When he opened his eyes, he was back at his quarters. His kindred was lying on his bed, yawning widely.

“I thought I told you not to lie on the bed,” the man complained. The creature reacted by closing its eyes, turning away from the man without a care in the world.

“Not even a word of thanks,” his kindred seemed to say. Being bonded to it, the man knew that the creature didn’t particularly care for his words. Because of it, his bed’s mattress would sink again, and the servants would have to change it again.

The man didn’t like that. He disliked being wasteful. His kindred, however, being the great beast it was, was proud and selfish, caring little for being frugal. The others were similar, young as they were. In their eyes, the time they had was short. Their wish was to live every day to its fullest—which included wasteful spending.

He made his own money instead. The small hobby had become a side job of sorts. It didn’t hurt his conscience as he only took from the wealthy.

He turned his head when the door opened. His younger sister was standing there with her hands on her hips, her beautiful silver hair flowing down past her hands.

“What is that appearance?” she demanded. “Have you been outside again?”

“Rayel, my sister,” he muttered.

“I was notified that you had returned,” she sighed. “Father calls for us to come immediately.”

The man nodded. “I will go at once.”

They would have sent him a message if it was truly urgent. But never had there been any true urgency during the course of his life. They had no enemies, no fears, no worries nor problems. Thus, this meant that he had kept the others waiting, not his father. No; his father’s sense of time was different from theirs. He would sit in place for hours and hours without a hint of movement, his eyes peering into the unimaginable.

As a child, it had terrified him. Now, few things did. One of them was death, but he still had a decade or two remaining to enjoy. No one discussed the matter, but everyone knew. It was why they were never frugal in their spending.

He dressed himself quickly and waved towards his kindred. It made a low gurgling noise, a sign wishing him luck.

“I doubt it will be anything significant,” he said, heading outside.

His sister was waiting for him with their youngest sister.

“You’re late,” his youngest sister said.

“Now, now, my dear Valencia,” the man smiled, “I had things to do. Do not be cross.”

“Maroeth tells me you were gambling again.”

“Why, that snitchling.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Of course, my little princess.”

“Brother is waiting,” his other sister sighed. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

Their eldest brother, his sibling above him, was waiting before the throne room doors in his full attire. His arms were crossed, though his face didn’t look angry. He always had a calm mood around him. It was only natural, given that he was the only one who would have to carry their burdens when they passed away.

“Boren, have you been gambling?” his brother spoke with a look of soft pity. “It would suit you to do something more beneficial.”

“I have, too many times,” Boren shrugged. “I would like to focus on my hobby.”

His brother nodded. “Father is waiting.”

They entered together side-by-side, facing their father who sat on his throne. The king’s eyes were glowing with a silver light. The whole room was enveloped in a soft glow of silver, and just by entering it, Boren could feel the pressure on his body multiply tenfold. He and his siblings were all very adept at magic, but before the presence of their father, it became meaningless.

“My children,” the king spoke, his voice echoing gently throughout the hall.

They knelt before him. There was no one else there except them as the king had no need for guards aside from ceremonies. When the king waved his hand, they all stood up, their eyes still lowered. Only when they were spoken to would they be able to look at the king. It wasn’t something that was forced upon them or anyone else, but something that came naturally. To look at the silver eyes meant terror and fainting.

“You have been lazy with training your kin,” the king spoke with a voice that was not only his own. “This is acceptable. I know about your attachments to this world. But the time will come when your kin fully mature. It would be good to train them before they do for the benefit of the nation. But I will not force it.”

Boren managed to push out the breath he’d been holding in. Even though his father had never been harsh to them, he could never let his guard down.

“Instead, I would like all of you to fulfill all of your wishes before your times are over,” the king declared. “Of course, as long as it is within peace and the prosperity of the nation.”

All four of them remained silent.

“You will be allowed to venture out of Melern if you wish for it,” the king said. “Go and see the world, my children.”

Boren froze, as did the others. Venture out of the nation?

He was sure that the same thought popped up in all of their minds. It would mean that they would be able to run away if they wanted to and escape from the life they’d been brought up in. Escape from their fate. He heard Rayel gulp audibly.

“T-Then father, I would like to go to the Rvuvick Empire.”

It was Valencia who had spoken first. Boren was glad she had since her request would seem more innocent than any of theirs.

The king looked at her. “The Empire?”

“Yes. I would like to go there as a student until I come of age.”

“Does this country not please you?”

“I-I would like to learn many things,” Valencia said with a tremble. “My teachers have said that the best way to learn is to travel.”

Oh, sister, Boren thought, you may have doomed the professors.

But the king nodded, putting his chin on his hand. “And why the Empire?”

“I have heard that it attracts people all over the world,” Valencia answered. “I will be able to see the most things there.”

The king nodded once more.

“Your wish will be granted.”

Boren couldn’t believe his ears. That easily?

He glanced at his father but immediately looked back down. There was no way they would be able to escape from those eyes. It was difficult to think that the Guardian had had a change of heart.

“Why are you suddenly allowing us to venture?”

The eldest, Meleran had spoken, and Boren was glad that he had instead of him. There was no doubt they were all dubious about the king’s sudden offer.

“I sensed the presence of an old friend,” the king said, his eyes becoming distant. “He had let one of his young venture around the world. Why should I not with mine? Change is necessary, and with change comes growth. It would please me if you grew through your travels.”

Perhaps that was the real reason. They were expected to grow from their journeys.

“Then I would like to go with Valencia as well.”

It was Rayel who had spoken. “She is too young and will require someone to look after her.”

The king nodded. “Do as you please. Boren, my son. Do you wish to venture?”

Boren’s mind raced with possible answers. He’d never thought about leaving the country before.

“If you would be willing, give me time to think,” Boren requested.

“I am willing.”

His brother wouldn’t require anything as he was the successor to the throne. The king didn’t ask his brother but instead questioned him again.

“I sense something unnatural on your body,” the king frowned, the glow in his eyes becoming more profound. “Come closer.”

He did. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation on his side where he had been touched by the unknown presence.

“This magic…!”

The king frowned. Rarely did he ever frown. Boren felt a shiver run down his back.

Then, he laughed. A thunderous, hearty laugh emerged from the king’s lips. But Boren felt no joy from it.

“Fascinating.”

A series of tingles manifested on his side—a sign that magic was being weaved. Everyone was entirely still while the spell became complete, binding to his body.

“It is done,” the king stated. “If you wish to leave, you do not have to tell me. All of you, do as you wish.”

They all bowed and exited the room. Given the atmosphere, Boren didn’t ask what the king had done to him. He would ask Markendrath later. Just before the doors closed shut, he spotted the king staring into the empty air again, his eyes shining with silver.

He hadn’t been like that once. Only after his kindred had passed had he grown closer to the Guardian, sitting in the throne room day after day. Such was the fate of all kings. While he would live a shorter life than his brother, he pitied him. Such was the fate that awaited him.

For the time being, he would think. Think about the opportunity he’d been given. He doubted freedom from his fate would be possible, but he could at least dream about it.

Boren’s heart sank.

If only there was someone who could fool the eyes of an elder dragon.