It was not easy to ignore how incredibly beautiful Adriana Claudia was. Even while she shouted angrily at Lucianus, the man still felt his rage tone down by the otherworldly beauty of the woman.
“How could you do that?! Do you want us both to burn next?! And you didn’t tell me you were coming back early!”
Lucianus studied his wife in silence, impassive.
“You wanted to torture our daughter,” he spoke slowly.
“She’s—”
“The greatest talent we have ever seen in the history of the Church at her age—greater than any [Saint] your lineage has ever produced.”
Adriana’s mouth remained open as she searched for a retort.
“Am I wrong?” Lucianus asked.
“No, but—”
“Adriana,” Lucianus moved forward and took his wife’s hands into his, “why did you want to hurt her like that?”
“She never listens! She skipped her training at the Sanatorium again!”
“Are her skills lagging behind?” The man inquired.
“No, but—”
“But you want her to practice every single moment of the day. By doing what you are doing, you are only driving her away from a [Healing] class. Children have chosen to become [Beggars] for less just to spite their parents.”
That prospect and the loss of face it would mean for her immediately shut the woman up.
“Come here,” the man said, embracing the lithe woman. Adriana started crying in her husband’s arms, lost.
Lucianus wanted to sigh, but the painting of his father on the wall of his study reminded him not to. His old man had cared not one bit about his only heir’s education—he had left Lucianus on his own as he campaigned in the name of the [Pope]. That, fortunately, had let Lucianus to develop by himself.
Adriana sobbed loudly, slowly turning herself into the victim.
She’s still a child, Lucianus bit his lower lip. And her allegiance is clearly still with her own family. She sees Aurora as being part of my family and herself as a part of her own.
The problem wasn’t hard to diagnose. He had read long enough about the politics of foreign and neighborly kingdoms to know how this kind of drama could tear apart a family. The real problem was solving this without alienating either his wife or his daughter.
“Adriana, listen to me,” Lucianus slowly pried her away and caressed her shoulders, “from now on, I will take on a more active role in disciplining Aurora. I will be the only one delivering punishment. Our family hasn’t been known for being soft. As for you, I know I have neglected you. One of the reasons I came back was because I wanted to be with you. And...”
His wife looked up hesitantly but with evident happiness hidden behind her pupils. Lucianus knew well that he had been an extremely valuable bachelor and that she, not being able to have children because of a disease diagnosed when she was still a child, had somehow been chosen to be the one to marry him.
Who knows, maybe it is my fault, he pondered.
“And?” Adriana asked.
“I want you to come with me. To the battlefield. I know Aurora has been driving you mad. We will arrange for tutors and a guardian. I want to be with you, darling.”
Adriana’s face went through many emotions, chief of which were happiness and displeasure.
“She’s a devil, Lucianus! She will stop studying, and her future—”
“We will whip her,” Lucianus said casually, “if she doesn’t live up to it. I promise. I will be the one delivering the whipping myself.”
He almost recoiled at the sight of the wide smile he received from his wife in response.
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“And, you know, we have had one child, Adriana. If it happened once,” he leaned in, breathing into her ear, “who says we can’t try for a second?”
...
Lucianus entered his daughter’s room after sending his wife to arrange for new tutors for Aurora, not knowing he had already arranged everything beforehand. But it was important for Adriana to feel in control and above Lily in his eyes—the woman was tremendously jealous of her husband, and her daughter had been clearly upstaging her in her search for his attention.
When she had heard about a possible second child, however, she had sparked with the kind of joy he had only seen when she found out she was pregnant.
He sighed.
It was nice for her to think about getting pregnant again, but it wasn’t going to happen. Lucianus knew for a fact.
“Dad?” Aurora asked, looking up from the pillow she had buried her head in.
“Your mother is out,” Lucianus said, closing the door behind him and tapping the ring on his left hand. “How are you?”
“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset mom, but the execution... it was...”
“Stupid. It was stupid,” Lucianus said, scanning his daughter’s reaction. Adriana had told him what Lily had said about executing [Librarians], which made him more than proud.
“Mom said—”
“Aurora,” her father’s tone became sterner as he sat on the bed beside her, “your mother is... not perfect. You can’t choose your parents—blood is blood. We need you and your mother to function as a family. There are bigger issues out there than these beatings.”
“But putting that aside,” Lucianus added, “the beatings will stop. I have made sure of that. Your mother will come to the battlefield with me. Gentiliana will look over you and your training. You will have as much free time as you want as long as your skills keep growing.”
His daughter nodded and sighed in relief.
“Blood is blood,” Lucianus said again, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a little squeeze. “Remember that.”
“I know,” she muttered dejectedly.
“Your mother can go overboard, but she means... I think she means well. The other half of your family is from the [Pope]’s lineage. They do things differently.”
The little girl was still looking down.
“Come with me now. I must show you something before your mother, and I leave for the front again.”
...
The night was cool, the silvery glow of the moon guiding Lily as she silently trailed behind her father. The gravel crunched softly under their feet, creating a rhythmic echo that filled the stillness. The grandeur of the [Pope]'s estate lay ahead, with its towering spires silhouetted against the night sky, and the famed library stood as its crown jewel.
As they approached, a few [Templars] came into view, their armor glinting faintly in the pale moonlight. Their vigilance was legendary; every movement was sharp and calculated. However, upon spotting Lucianus, recognition filled their eyes, and they quickly bowed their heads in deep respect. It wasn't his official title or position that garnered such reverence; it was his reputation. Lucianus Claudius, the renowned [Healer], had been the beacon of hope in countless battles. His prowess was such that even the upper echelons of the Church hierarchy viewed him with a mix of admiration and wariness. He was a force unto himself, his authority echoing just one step below the supreme seat of the Church.
The vast library, with its towering bookshelves and labyrinthine corridors, awaited them ahead. Yet, Lucianus did not waste a moment in the more public sections, where many would peruse tomes and scrolls under the dim light of hanging lanterns. Instead, he tightened his grip on Lily's hand, guiding her through a maze of narrow passages and hidden doorways. With each transition, the rooms grew progressively smaller and the ambiance more secretive.
“I’ll explain how to get here on your own later, and I’ll also give you access to it—I’ve already sent word to the [Cardinals]. Being your mother’s daughter can be very convenient, trust me.”
Finally, they stood before the most concealed of rooms, guarded by two imposing [Templars]. Their size and demeanor made it clear that they were not to be trifled with. Their armor was darker and their eyes more piercing, almost as if they were privy to the weight of the secrets they guarded. They offered no challenge but simply stepped aside, allowing the pair entry.
As Lucianus closed the door, a palpable shift occurred. Lily's senses, sharpened by her [Mana Sense], detected a profound surge of magic enveloping the space. It felt as if they were cocooned in a bubble, cut off from the outside world.
Her wide eyes took in the room's contents: rows and rows of black tomes neatly arranged on a grand mahogany desk. The golden embossing on their spines gleamed mysteriously under the soft illumination of a solitary candle.
“What is this?” Lily asked.
“This is the first of many lessons,” Lucianus sighed, passing his hand through his short hair, “the [Pope] sent out word that you must be instructed to be the scourge of our current enemies. That means today, you’ll start learning about Death Magic.”
“Death Magic?!” Lily’s eyes went wide.
“Yes,” Lucianus hesitated before taking out a book seemingly from thin air.
“Darling, would you do me a favor?”
“Yes?”
Lucianus placed a mysterious tome on the table – it carried a heavy aura, its cover a faded ebony leather etched with ornate gold designs. Hieroglyphs danced across its surface, but interspersed with these familiar symbols were others that neither Lily nor Lucianus recognized. The most prominent among these unknown symbols was a series of intricate patterns, weaving in and out, centered around a singular emblem that bore the image of a radiant sun encircled by two serpents around a stake of wood.
The central feature of the book cover was the raised image of a deity, unfamiliar yet majestic, with outstretched wings and eyes that seemed to hold the cosmos within them.
The head of the Gens Claudia peered over his daughter’s shoulder and, holding his breath, asked, “Can you read the title?”
She can’t read it, can she? He thought to himself.
His daughter stretched her neck over the majestic book and slowly read the title without stuttering.
“The Book of the Dead.”