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(Dropped) Crown of the martyr and martyr of the Crown.
An apple doesn't fall far from the tree (03-10)

An apple doesn't fall far from the tree (03-10)

“It had been such a long time since we last met,” Irwyn smiled as he spoke in a jolly tone, “how have you been over the past few years?” he was seated in the same room in which he had met Desir earlier in the day. Alice was no longer present, she had been tasked with helping Desir move in. On the surface, it was to smoothen the entire process, but really Irwyn hoped that the two would become friends, with a bit of luck perhaps even more. Relationships were one of the most powerful means to control someone, and Irwyn was aware that it would be tough to get true loyalty from someone with Desir’s character.

“Have we met before, lord Irwyn?” his new guest was a young golden-haired boy with a feminine voice who appeared to be extraordinarily nervous and confused. His clothing was ordinary at best, just common linen that every poor villager could afford, however, what was interesting about him were his heterochromatic eyes: His left pupil was brown while the right took on a distinct yellow colour.

“Have you really forgotten?” Irwyn tilted his head, acting confused, “It was only about six years ago. I was involved in a horrible accident and ended up nearly burning to death,” Irwyn tried to make Minet recall, while he took certain amusement in the fact that Elizabeth seemed to suddenly become far more alert. She never directly asked him about his past, however, that did not mean she was not interested. It was perhaps for the best if he revealed bits and pieces this way, “I was brought to your village where your mother had treated me and saved my life. We had also met back then,” Irwyn concluded.

“You are the same Irwyn!” Minet finally realised. That was good, such a strong reaction likely meant that he had never fully forgotten, “Did you really manage to recover? Mother said that…” he suddenly cut off and averted his gaze.

“I am still not truly healed,” Irwyn admitted, “however, neither am I on the brink of death at any given moment anymore. The trouble that my lasting wounds give me is bearable,” Irwyn said as his visage twisted into a slight bitter grimace.

“You are really that Irwyn von Blackburg? The one everyone calls the greatest genius of the north?” not dwelling on those grim topics Minet’s eyes began to sparkle.

“I believe there is not another Irwyn in the Blackburg household,” Irwyn chuckled at Minet’s childish behaviour. Not like that was something abnormal considering that Minet was not much older than Irwyn, “But first things first. How did you like the present?”

“So it was really sent by you!” Minet exclaimed, instantly realising what Irwyn had in mind. Irwyn expected nothing less of him, the catalyst that he had sent Minet was purposefully stored in a case with the Blackburg sigil, and all guests were inevitably exposed to that same mark many times when they came to the Blackburg mansion. It was only natural that Minet managed to connect the dots

“Did you like it?” Irwyn asked with a wide smile. Things were comming along just as he had hoped so far.

“Ever since I accomplished that trial I feel so strangely powerful,” Minet admitted, looking down on his palm, “My spells all became so much stronger. The wounds I tread heal faster and better. I think that is wonderful."

“Then, what is magic to you?” Irwyn asked a sudden question. Minet opened his mouth only to close it as he took a few seconds to think before he spoke: “I believe it is a power to help others in need.”

“As you said, from a certain point of view magic is power,” Irwyn nodded, “and power is dangerous if one cannot wield it properly. Even something as gentle and soothing as your light,” as Irwyn said that he raised his hand and a sliver of immaculate light manifested above his fingers. The light was vibrant and aggressive, its colour distinct and unyielding, “Yet magic is so much more than just power.”

“What is that?” Minet looked at Irwyn’s magic and was clearly confused, almost startled when he saw something so familiar yet so alien.

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“First, please show me your own light,” Irwyn did not answer but instead gave Minet a request. The boy did not hesitate long before a similar sliver of light appeared above his outstretched palm. Yet Minet’s light was different. It was barely incandescent and far gentler, even the light’s colour was less distinct as every bit of aggression was instead replaced by mercyful will.

“Your light is warm and gentle. Like a mother’s embrace, bringing salvation to those not yet damned and comfort to those beyond redemption. Shaped like the life you were able to live until today” Irwyn took a deep breath, “I, unfortunately, cannot possess that beauty. My light is searing and brutal. Like the sun on the hottest day of summer. Like the stars which scorch all that dares approach.”

“Couldn’t you have also chosen the same gentle light?” Minet looked a little distressed as he asked, perhaps feeling pity for his nearly forgotten old friend.

“No,” Irwyn shook his head, “That choice was never mine to make. I mustn’t… rather, I cannot create. All I can do is destroy. You, on the other hand, are different. Despite the cruelty of the world your light still retains its gentle beauty.”

“I…” Minet opened his mouth, unsure what to say.

“I don’t wish for that light to be extinguished, Minet” Irwyn didn’t give the boy the time to sort out his thoughts as he extended that light, “I can show you the world, take you to places you never even imagined, and allow all of mankind to witness your immaculate light. As someone who once upon a time became your friend, I ask you: Are you willing?” Irwyn struck with a request. Minet did not take his hand immediately. In fact he seemed stunned beyond speaking.

“I…” he was once again unable to come up with an immediate answer. His eyes showed his sudden absent-mindedness as well as surprise, “I…” Minet tried to speak again after almost an entire minute of silence “...I cannot,” he shook his head, “If I were to leave the villagers would definitely miss me. The village chief would be worried sick about me pushing myself too hard again, and the flower lady would feel lonely if she had to collect all the flowers on her own, and the head miner would be worried about the safety of his workers whenever mother had to leave. But.... most importantly, I think mother would be sad if I were to leave. If I stopped playing on the flute for her she would definitely cry. Because of that, I cannot go,” Minet resolutely concluded.

“I see,” Irwyn kept smiling, “If you are truly unwilling then I cannot force you,” he reached into an inner pocket of his clothes and took out a small black badge, “Keep this thing. Should you ever change your mind feel free to seek me out. Just remember that time is short. In less than 2 months I will be leaving the North and I might not return for many years.”

“I will definitely talk about it with mother,” Minet nodded as he tried to stand from his chair, perhaps feeling a bit too awkward about staying right after refusing Irwyn’s request.

“Then I will patiently await your answer,” Irwyn waved his hand and the door opened after a couple of seconds, revealing a maid prepared to lead Minet out, “Goodbye Minet, and hopefully, see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Minet nodded awkwardly and followed the maid out. They had instructions to send him back to the village with an entourage. The same group which had originally gone to relay Irwyn's invitation.

“Didn’t you say you needed him,” Elizabeth asked as soon as the door was shut closed. She was also somehow already pouring Irwyn a cup of steaming hot tea.

“Do you doubt me?” Irwyn chuckled jokingly.

“Never,” Elizabeth answered with a deadpan which surpassed the one she wore at the most official of occasions.

“His mother is a reasonable woman,” Irwyn sipped the boiling tea, apparently not a bit disturbed by the high temperature, “She is going to convince him. And if she doesn’t, I have a backup plan."

"You had over a dozen nobles or important people assassinated over the last 4 years because they harboured hatred against Desir," Elizabeth stated, seemingly not fazed by that number, "How many people will die for that boy," she asked Irwyn who just smiled mysteriously. That indicated more than 0.

"You should have managed to adjust to Equilibrium by now, right?" Irwyn did not answer her. Elizabeth knew that she would receive answers when and if Irwyn considered it appropriate, "Tomorrow we will begin your special group training for the entrance exams of the Academy of Ignis."

"I can rank around the top the way I am now," Elizabeth seemed surprised "Why is it necessary to prepare specifically for the exam?"

"All of you can definitely reach one of the top positions," Irwyn nodded, "but that is not our aim," he finished his cup of tea and stood up, "We are going to take the top 5 by an absolute landslide."