“Place your hands on the stone and close your eyes,” Lea said.

“What is it?” Lucian asked her.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the stone. Just do it, she was saying.

Lucian noticed the roughness of the stone. It was jagged in shape and a metallic color. Obeying, he reached his hand to the case and apprehensively felt it. Slowly, he closed his eyes and waited for something to happen.

“Give it a while,” Lea encouraged when nothing happened.

“Well?” Lucian was frustrated. What was the point of this if it did not detect anything? Or was the healing not magic?

Adelaide stood breathside near him and touched his shoulders.

“You have to be soft. See how you barely feel my hands. Be gentle, and calm,” she explained.

Gentle and calm.

Deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

Lucian did as instructed, and felt a tingle in his hands. Slowly, the sensations spread through his arms, then to his chest, making its way around to every corner of his body, Lucian’s head last.

Like being zapped, his eyes popped and he jolted forward.

“Steady there,” Lea exclaimed. “You can open them.”

The stone was burning with flames. His hands should be burning, but they felt normal. Aric clapped him on the back and said, “I’ll be dammed, it’s not even what I thought it was!”

“Lea, what is that magic type?” Adelaide asked, raising an eyebrow at the stone.

Lea reached out for the stone to take it. Lucian let go, and the flames burned away slowly. She brushed it off and twisted it around to show everyone an engraving on it. It was a carved fire symbol.

“Keep it.” Lea turned back around and took them all back to the courtyard.

At the courtyard, she bent down, facing the ground, and uttered a few chants. The ground tumbled, just like with Naeve. Instead of roots appearing, the ground swelled, and the dirt started to form shapes. Twisting and cranking every way, a human-sized figure stood in front of them: only it was made of dirt.

“That was fire magic,” she said. “Though it was blacker than any I’ve ever seen.”

Fire. Interesting.

As if it operated on a queue system, the game box appeared once more. It read:

*Magic unlocked: Fire

Added to skills list*

A skills list?

For the first time, Lucian realized that the system only worked if you asked it to. All this time, he relied on it to appear randomly, or in times of need, but he never considered he could simply just ask it.

“Bring up skills,” he muttered.

The box changed, and he saw all his skills. Sword dance was mastered. His magic was there, but in a column that read, “passive”, he saw “Regeneration.” It must be his healing factor which is already engrained into the system or his body so that it does not have to be manually activated or controlled, hence a passive.

“So what now?” Aric softly asked Lea.

“Lucian, attack the doll. Don’t hold back,” she instructed. “Say the words of the fire chant that your body tells you.”

Closing his eyes, and focusing he attempted to recreate that sensation. He was unsure of what chant she was referring to, but he did not need it. Slowly but surely, his hands were tingling and he felt the power. He opened his eyes and saw a small and wild flame float above his hands. He put more effort and tried to make it big enough to completely enflame the doll, but to no avail.

“Attack,” Lea shouted.

Screw it, he thought as he launched the flame towards the doll. It flew at a steady pace, like a baseball, but slower. The tiny flame flickered through the air, and barely grazed the doll before sputtering out.

The figure remained unscathed. Lucian felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He looked at Lea, expecting disappointment, but she simply nodded thoughtfully.

“Not everyone masters fire magic immediately,” she said. “It takes practice and control. You have the potential, but you need to work on harnessing it.”

Aric clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ve got time to learn.”

“Do I?” Lucian replied.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Lea stepped forward. “Fire magic is volatile and requires a calm mind and precise control. You can’t force it. It’s more like guiding a wild animal than wielding a weapon.”

Adelaide nodded in agreement. “You’ll get there, Lucian. Just need more practice.”

Lea glanced at the group. “For now, let’s focus on understanding the magic within you. We’ll practice more and see what else you might be capable of.”

----------------------------------------

It turned out, Lucian was not capable of much.

“Yet,” Adelaide reminded. “It’s only your first day.”

Back at the “Champion’s Nest”, Aric and Lucian returned.

“Huh, weird,” Aric noted as the cafeteria and halls were emptied out. Even at the front, only a few guards were present, not the usual servers, clerks, or any of the usuals.

They sat, chatting about magic and what Lucian could do to improve. Aric warned him not to try anything too risky unless he had no other options. Rely on the healing factor and your wits. Of course the longblade as well.

“Say, what do you want with the tournament anyways?” he asked.

Lucian paused. He told Haymond about it but never told Aric, who was technically his master. He could trust him. It must have been hard to think about his mother and tell his story to Lucian, so why not tell him?

“Do you want to get a drink or something, it’s a long story,” Lucian said.

Aric ran to the bar counter, and took a bottle that was unopened. Since there was no barkeep, he paid nothing.

“Go on,” he said, edging Lucian to start his story.

And so he did.

Like with Haymond, Lucian omitted his other life before meeting Abenor from the details. He made sure not to skip over anything, including his feelings. Something about Aric felt warm and non-judgemental.

Aric listened intently, his expression softening as Lucian recounted his tale. He nodded at the appropriate moments, showing he was genuinely engaged. The story of Lucian's journey from the slave caravan, being saved by Abenor, and his quest to find Maia struck a chord with Aric. He poured them both drinks, his hands steady despite the emotional weight of the story.

When Lucian finished, Aric took a long sip of his drink, then sighed deeply. "You've been through a lot, boy.”

Lucian shrugged, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. "I just... I owe Abenor everything. He gave me a second chance at life, and I can't let him down."

Aric leaned back in his chair, contemplating. "If it’s really what you want, then do as you desire."

“As long as you're paying me,” he joked.

They went back to Lucian’s room, where he would get some rest before training some more later in the night. Inside, the duo prepared for sleep but was woken by a knock at the door.

Aric stood up, motioning for Lucian to stay back. "Stay here. I'll check it out."

Slowly creaking open, blue-cloaked figures armed stood at the door.

The figure, a low, commanding voice. "We’re here for Lucian."

Aric glanced back at Lucian, signaling him to stay hidden. He approached the guards, his stance relaxed but ready. "What do you want with him?"

The cloaked figure lowered their hood, revealing a stern-looking woman with piercing green eyes. "My name is Seraphina. I'm here on behalf of Lord Haymond. We have urgent matters to discuss with Lucian."

Lucian's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Haymond. He stepped forward, revealing himself. "I'm Lucian. What’s this about?"

Seraphina's gaze fixed on him, intense and unwavering. "Lord Haymond has sent me to find you. There have been developments regarding … something important. He needs you to come with us immediately."

Aric looked at Lucian, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. "You know these people?"

Lucian nodded. "If they’re from Haymond, they’re trustworthy."

Seraphina gestured towards the exit. "We must leave now. Time is of the essence."

Lucian turned to Aric, who gave a slight nod and said "I’m coming with you."

----------------------------------------

Lucian and Aric arrived at Haymond's estate. They were promptly greeted by a steward, who led them through a series of hallways.

Their guide brought them to Haymond’s office—a different one from the office Lucian was sent to the first time. This was a spacious room lined with mahogany bookshelves and dimly lit by a crackling fireplace. Heavy, dark drapes were drawn back to reveal tall windows, through which the last rays of the setting sun filtered in. The steward gestured for them to sit and then left, closing the door with a soft click.

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation. Aric, ever restless, shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. Lucian sat still, eyes darting around the room, taking in the myriad of books.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open with a force that rattled the glass panes. Haymond stormed in, his face a mask of barely contained fury. His eyes fixed on Aric, narrowing with suspicion.

“What is he doing here?” Haymond demanded, his voice sharp as a blade.

Lucian opened his mouth to explain, but Haymond cut him off with a dismissive wave. He grabbed Lucian by the arm, pulling him aside with a surprising strength. Aric, taken aback by the sudden hostility, stood but made no move to intervene.

Haymond’s face was inches from Lucian’s, his expression grave. “There’s been a development,” he said, his voice now a harsh whisper. “News has broken that the king’s fourth son, Prince Leonardo, has been killed.”

Lucian’s eyes widened in shock. “Killed? How—”

“He was Maia’s husband,” Haymond continued, his grip tightening on Lucian’s arm. “This changes everything. You understand that, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Lucian asked.

“They’ve canceled the tournament.”

Behind them, Aric had heard every word. His face, usually so full of bravado and mirth, was now pale with shock. He took a hesitant step forward, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Prince Leonardo is dead?”

Lucian did not even know who the princes were. Their names, or even the king’s name for that matter. The tournament was canceled. All the work he put in, and everything he was doing, gone.

Haymond turned to him, his anger momentarily eclipsed by the gravity of the situation. “Yes, Aric. Prince Leonardo is dead. This is not just a personal matter; it’s a political catastrophe. The kingdom is on the brink of chaos.”

“But the tourname–” Lucian tried to say.

“Forget that tournament! The whole reason why you were doing all this has just lost her husband. The kingdom lost its prince! Think for a second you fool!” Haymond screamed.

Aric ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “How did it happen?”

Haymond shook his head, calming down. “Details are scarce.”

Haymond released Lucian’s arm and took a step back, his eyes shifting between the two men. “Prepare yourselves. We’ll need every bit of strength and cunning to navigate the storm that’s coming. And Lucian,” he added, his voice softening, “I love her like a daughter. I practically raised her when she ran away from Abenor. Do try to understand me.”

If he’s dead, what happens to her? Is she widowed for the rest of her life, or does she lose her position? Lucian grasped with these thoughts as he was trying to piece together what he would do now.