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Chapter 57 - Familiar Voice

ALICE KELTHYRA:

Wiping away the sweat around my mouth, I tried silencing the heavy breaths that echoed throughout the indoor training ground while remaining focused on the living dummy Father conjured for me to fight. At first, I thought it would be easy, but I soon realized that lowering my sword even for a second left me vulnerable against the two-meter-tall earth elemental’s relentless attacks.

“Again,” Father instructed, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, observing my every move.

Disregarding my exhaustion, I went on the offensive, gripping the hilt with my trembling hand. Training had become enervating ever since Alex left us as I began learning the Kelthyra Swordsmanship, one of four renowned Elven styles derived from a three-millennium-old traditional Elven swordplay.

Mixing swordsmanship and mana breathing, an Elven form of mana circulation, my ancestors discovered a way to perceive what we knew as mana pathways. If followed correctly, these paths allowed one to move in a way that guided the blade toward weak points, and when paired with masterful footwork, it also helped tremendously with evasiveness. In fact, it was so effective that many compared it to peering into the future.

When explained, it sounded like something anyone could just learn; however, the reality was that one needed complete mastery over mana breathing and the talent to follow the everchanging paths. It also required immense athleticism and intelligence as one had to comprehend and recognize patterns and changes. Luckily, I inherited my father’s talents, who was known as the strongest swordsman among the elves, while also having an edge over him when it came to reaction time, allowing me to adapt quicker. However, these were only the fundamentals of the Kelthyra Swordsmanship.

It was tough evading the elemental’s attacks as it was surprisingly quick on its feet despite its enormous size. But so long as I remained focused and kept a cool head, I managed to navigate through the overwhelmingly numerous mana pathways presented to me.

Inexperience led to two problems. First, it was hard for me to narrow the paths down to only a select few, and second, I was so focused on using them that I disregarded the option to simply dodge without their help, causing me to get hit when I should’ve been able to evade easily. It was frustrating, but Father reassured me that he did the same when he was younger.

What I had to remember was that mana pathways were simply a tool. They weren’t an omnipotent guide that allowed me to disregard everything I had learned up until that point. Only when I decisively mix the two would I be able to advance to the next stage.

After successfully dodging several times, the elemental altered its attack pattern, slamming its fists against the ground, causing debris to fly through the air before manipulating it with mana and guiding it toward me.

Realizing I’d get hit, I took a deep breath and searched for a path; however, my eyes were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of translucent threads visible only to me that formed a massive web, making it impossible to choose. The rocks slammed against me, sending me tumbling across the ground as I wailed in pain.

Despite my muscles aching, fear pushed me to get up as I expected a follow-up attack, but to my surprise, the elemental simply froze in place, meaning Father issued a halt command.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” Father asked, letting out a sigh.

Closing my eyes and taking a moment to think, I looked back and said, “I should’ve used Blink.”

“Either that or block with Shield.” He pushed himself off and began walking over.

“That’s what Alex would’ve done.” My gaze dropped, and a coy smirk appeared.

“Naturally, your fighting styles differ. But can you tell me the difference between the two?” He stopped within arm’s reach.

“Shield allows him to withstand the attack and analyze the situation before making his next move. Meanwhile, I would use Blink to take the enemy by surprise, thriving on the fact that if I align with a right path and take advantage of my reaction time, I could deliver a devastating blow.” Looking up at my father, I let out a sigh and gently rubbed my neck. “However, it’s not as if I can’t use Shield or fight defensively as he does. It all depends on the enemy, and– it’s just–” I paused.

“You’re too eager to learn the Kelthyra Swordsmanship, so you looked for ways to use it as often as you could.”

“Right. . .” I mumbled before grunting in pain as my body cooled off and discomfort surged through me.

“Heal yourself and take a break for the day.” Father messed with my hair as if I were a kid.

“But I can still–”

“No.” He cut me off. “You trained hard, and it’s already impressive enough that you can keep up with the animated dummy. Need I remind you we used them when training the Royal Guards? Besides, I wish I was half as good when I was your age, so give yourself a break.”

“That’s because you’re my teacher.” Flustered, I returned the compliment.

“You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Sweetie, but you’re aware of your mistakes, and your decision-making will improve with time as experience piles up. Relax and have fun learning. The only thing you need to do is not give up.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I reassured him, looking up with a shy smile.

“Good,” He said before beginning to walk away slowly, but then suddenly stopped and looked back. “Oh, and before I forget. While it’s good that you’ve found inspiration within him, don’t let the monstrous growth you witnessed drive you into a corner, for you are two of a kind. And while it might seem like a strength at first, it comes with its fair share of weaknesses that’ll become more apparent with time. I’ve tried my best to drill the fundamentals into you so that your growth doesn’t swallow you. Hopefully, it was enough.”

“Then why–”

“His eyes,” Father interrupted me before I could even ask, predicting my question. “They hungered for power to survive, to fend off the clinging darkness, ready to swallow him the moment he’s vulnerable. Maybe I made the wrong decision, but I felt any other would’ve broken him. My only hope is that the two of you one day help each other reach greater heights and overcome whatever’s thrown at you, for life is a constant uncertainty.”

“If. . . or when that day comes, I’ll give it my all to help him.” My gaze dropped, believing– No. Knowing he’d do the same.

Father's words were heavy, and I wasn’t sure I fully understood them, but somewhere in my heart, it felt comforting knowing Alex would be able to rely on me.

“You’ve grown, Kiddo,” he said as he turned, and despite not seeing his face, the shift in tone had me believe he was smiling. “Keep working hard, and remember that the path of being a mage isn’t linear.”

“Healing Touch.” Invoking mana into my hand, I allowed it to pass through me as all the minor injuries I suffered suddenly disappeared after casting the spell. Watching my father leave the training room, I sighed.

Rejuvenated, I let my mind wander as Father’s words left quite an impression.

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ALEXANDER KALLIS:

After the auction ended, while wandering the streets of Raveryn with Penelope and Eliot, I looked through the pages of the grimoire I had acquired, which had a lot of information about spellcasting that I had never learned. Regarding the difficulty, it only covered the basics of first and second circles, going over theory and the runic language that made up the transmutation circles used in spells.

Penelope was disappointed when she found out I had an interest in theory since she would’ve brought her notes had she known and would’ve helped me study. When I asked about it, she explained that many mages, including Father and Eliot, abandoned theory and focused only on learning what was necessary.

Luckily for many combat mages, casting spells didn’t require a deeper understanding, so long as they memorized what was needed to perform them, along with adequate amounts of mana mixed with decent mana control. Because of this, many of them often viewed learning theory beyond that as a waste of effort since it slowed their progression and provided very few benefits, not enough to justify the time put in that could be better spent strengthening. However, that was only true for combat mages, so for Penelope, someone who had a keen interest in enchantment and alchemy, learning theory was mandatory.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Getting her to tutor me was going to be of great help to me while I figured things out; however, what bothered me as we walked was that I couldn’t stop thinking about her panicked reaction at the auction when she suddenly grabbed my hand. I tried asking her about it, but she brushed it off and claimed she had probably misheard something. After that, the auction continued rather uneventfully.

“Hey, Penelope. . .” I leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of her eyes.

“Hmm?” She seemed absentminded but still had a timely response.

“I know a quiet place where we could grab a bite. Then maybe you could tell me about that thing you misheard?”

Our parents left with Ellie as they had plans with the Weltons before dinner, giving us the freedom to do whatever. Just the thing we needed if I was going to get her to talk.

“I hope you’re not thinking of abandoning me.” Eliot’s gaze shifted toward me as he stood on Penelope’s opposite side.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I teased, showing a coy smirk. “No, but for real. I want to sit down and talk.”

“Alex. . . I could be wrong,” Penelope lowered her voice, dropping her gaze.

“Did I miss something?” Eliot asked.

“Penelope thought she heard a familiar voice and freaked out at the auction, and now she won’t say anything,” I explained before she could deny anything.

“Who was it?” Eliot asked.

“It doesn’t matter. . .” Penelope mumbled, trying desperately to drop the topic.

“Maybe we can coax her over some delicious food,” I suggested as my curiosity got piqued by the fact that I knew Penelope hardly made those types of mistakes. After everything that happened, it was hard to believe something could have shaken her so much. “This ain’t the best place for talking anyway, and. . . We’re together again, so let’s not worry too much, okay?”

Realizing she wasn’t answering, I reached for her hand and took the lead despite Eliot being there, but to my surprise, he didn’t react at all, and in fact, I somehow got Penelope to smile as she let me drag her around wherever I wanted.

When we eventually reached one of the restaurants I often visited as a kid, I found out the food wasn’t as good as I remembered, but the place was still dear to me as I had often visited when escaping from the world with no place for me. Despite the quality, it was also the perfect spot to have such a conversation as we were all alone on a balcony overlooking the vast northern sea swarming with merchant ships from around the world.

“Alex. . . I want you to be honest with me.” Eliot looked at me suspiciously while setting down his fork. “Is this your way of getting back at us?”

“Come on. It’s not that bad.” I sighed, but the look on their faces made it hard to believe my own words.

“How’d you find this place?” Penelope asked.

“I used to come here often as a kid whenever I wanted to run away from home, so maybe my nostalgia screwed us over.”

Neither questioned why I ran away, knowing well how complicated my relationship with the Weltons was. Though I did consider telling them more, I figured it’d be better if I didn’t spoil the mood any further.

“Is that so?” Eliot asked, looking at the food again before taking a bite. It was chewy, taking a while before he felt comfortable swallowing. “Eh, it’s not that bad.”

“He’s right.” Penelope picked up a fork and tried sticking it in the meat.

“Stop.” I grabbed her wrist, sighing in disbelief. “Let’s just forget about the food and grab something to drink. They can’t fuck up alcohol, could they?”

While I appreciated what they were trying to do, I wasn’t keen on watching them struggle to swallow poorly cooked food for my sake.

“You sure?” Eliot furrowed his brows.

“Yes, I’m sure! Now put the knife down, and let’s just enjoy some drinks.”

“Well, if you’re sure. . .” Eliot awkwardly smiled.

“Thanks. . .” I said quietly, refusing to elaborate further before I ordered us something to drink.

Some time had passed since, yet we still hadn’t brought up what we came here to talk about; however, that all changed with Eliot’s initiative.

“So. . . Are you going to tell us what you heard, or are we going to pretend as if nothing happened?” Eliot asked, holding his cup elevated slightly above the table, swirling the wine inside before taking a sip.

“Was the voice you recognized coming from the man who approached Prince Damien?” I asked the obvious, disappointed I didn’t get the chance to see his face nor overhear their conversation.

“Yeah. . .” Penelope said meekly, taking a moment to collect her thoughts before looking back at us. “Look. I planned to tell Father about this, but I wasn’t sure what he’d do if I mentioned it back at the auction. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Okay? Now I’m getting worried.” Eliot put his cup down, focusing keenly on Penelope. “Nobody dared lay their hand on you, did they?”

Deep down, I knew no such thing had happened, but my heart still raged at the thought as my stay in Tartarus briefly flashed before my eyes.

“Huh? No, nothing like that.” Penelope immediately dispelled our doubts, but sadly it was already too late for me as I was caught remembering things I shouldn’t. Luckily, I kept myself in check, taking a deep breath and hiding my discomfort while distracting myself with Penelope’s explanation. “But it does have something to do with the underground auction I infiltrated.”

“Wait, what?!” Eliot raised his voice. “What do you mean infiltrated?”

While I forgot Eliot didn’t know about her little adventure, I doubt Penelope did. It was only going to be a matter of time before he learned the truth, and it wasn’t as if we could hide Rosaline and the twins.

“Calm down. . .” Penelope sighed. “It’s a long story, so just listen.”

Penelope took time putting things into perspective, explaining her investigation and everything she saw. While there were similarities, the auction itself was immensely different when compared to the dungeons. Honestly, it was surprising when I noticed they weren’t going to ask me anything about my time in Tartarus, but I soon realized they were likely warned against it until I decided to open up on my own.

Maybe one day, I thought.

“So let me get this straight. . . You’re telling us that the masked man and the man who approached the Prince sounded alike?” Eliot asked while tapping his foot.

“That’s right.” Penelope’s gaze switched between us.

“If that’s true–” I wanted to elaborate further, but Eliot suddenly got up aggressively.

“Do you realize what you’re suggesting?” Eliot asked, staring down Penelope.

“Eliot. . .” I sighed, leaning back into my chair. “Sit down.”

It wasn’t my intention to sound commanding, but his outburst made Penelope flinch and left her feeling uncomfortable.

“Right. . .” Eliot surprisingly listened. “I’m sorry, Sis.”

“It’s okay. . .” But although she forgave him quickly, the tension was still high.

“But I’ll ask you this again, and please think carefully about how you’ll answer. Are you sure about this? Please don’t tell me this is some weird way of making a fuss all because the Prince was hitting on you.”

“Do you think I’m that petty?” Penelope asked in utter disbelief.

“Hey, hey. . . Let’s not forget we’re all on the same side.” Noticing Penelope was getting angry with him, I couldn’t afford to stay quiet. “Look. For all we know, it could all just be a coincidence. They might not even be the same person, and we can’t just assume the Prince is involved just because they spoke once.”

“Alex is right. I could be wrong, which is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“But if you’re right, then that means we’re likely looking at a future civil war. . .” Eliot pointed out, throwing us all into a spiral of negative thoughts.

He wasn’t wrong either, and if the Prince had anything to do with the ambush, then that would mean he wanted to get rid of our father, one of Eleron’s pillars. Considering Father supported the Crown Prince, he’d be Damien’s biggest adversary with the King out of the picture. However, that was where every theory became flawed.

King Edward was a healthy man who likely had decades to rule over Eleron. Stealing the throne required both the King and the Crown Prince to die, which would raise too many questions. Even a master of lies would have had a hard time selling such a story. There was also the fact that the Crown Prince’s wife was pregnant with a child who’d be next in line if it turned out to be a boy. The only option left was a military coup, but he’d need the backing of at least half the kingdom to even consider pulling off something like that.

“That’s why I wanted to tell Father about this first.” Penelope grabbed her elbow, looking quite timid. “He warned me not to take things into my own hands, and considering I almost died last time when I didn’t listen, I–”

Penelope’s sudden silence quelled all desire for arguing as Eliot and I exchanged glances.

“She’s right. We should tell Father about this and leave it to him,” I suggested, siding with Penelope’s decision. “We lack critical information, so at the very least, we should investigate the man who reminded Penelope of the masked individual. He could also just be another noble who found himself there.”

“True. . .” Eliot said, stroking his chin. “However, we mustn’t be careless with our words. One wrong accusation and–” He sighed. “Let’s just say people had been executed for less.”

“You don’t think they’d execute us, do you?” Penelope grabbed her elbow and dropped her gaze onto the table. “Surely not, right? Even if we say something outrageous, Father is close friends with the King.”

“Probably not, but it would hurt our family reputation as well as our relationship with the Lionhearts,” Eliot explained before taking a deep breath and showing us a smile. “Regardless of the truth, Alex is right. We’re together now, so let’s just talk to Father and be careful, okay?”

Penelope and I nodded in agreement, but at that point, I was overwhelmed by a strange feeling after realizing just how little I cared about Eleron’s fate if it meant keeping my family safe.

It made me wonder just how far I’d go for their sake.

Chapter End.

Thank you for reading.