Sustaining The King's Life 101 Ezekiel's "Magic"

Elindei Rossana Feuerfalke stared intently as Lucas Feuerlon finished his proposal. Her father was deep in thoughts, caressing his beard. Lucas' ambition deemed to be mighty and aspiring—he wants to go to the continental cliff. Julian Ortfalcon had an official statement about how Nightmare's cure may be residing on the continental cliff—to get to this barren place, one must pa.s.s the dark oceans, and once on the cliff, they must survive the endless forest which towered over humans at a ginormous size. The continental cliff is the home of ancient monsters and primordial ent.i.ties. It is not to be meddled with—but the rumored cure was said to be there. Julian Ortfalcon left with magicians and has not to return ever since. The probability of him being dead was more than seventy percent.

"It's ridiculous," Elindei exclaims, easing the anxious chatters of the board. She was eligible to speak, due to the fact that she was the daughter and was well-versed in these topics. Elindei Feuerfalke was smart—and at just the age of eighteen, she was already her father's right hand. Compared to her brothers, she was bright; she was charming, yet stern. She arched her brow to Lucas Feuerlon, who was looking at her like he was beseeched with dreamy emerald eyes.

"Ehem," Axkell faked a cough.

"Ah, pardon me, but I was just so mesmerized…"

Elindei's brow twitched.

"Your proposal is RIDICULOUS, Lucas Feuerlon. It is by far, like you said, SUICIDE. Have you heard of Julian Ortfalcon? Do you know how many adventurers—from Zuerst and Zweite, go through the continental cliff, and never to return?"

Lucas nods. "I am aware."

"If you are, then you must know the probability. It's from 0 to 1. It's a simple yes or no, and by far, it's a no by the death count. No one has ever succeeded. No one, Lucas. Not even our former head mage came back alive,"

"What if he's still there, venturing? Discovering the unknown land? What if he found the cure, but needed SOMEONE to be there to help him come back? What if Julian Ortfalcon purposefully let us know that he's going to get the cure, and wanted someone to pull him back to Zuerst?"

"Again, as I said—"

"There are so many unexplored possibilities," says Lucas. "And we want to give it a shot."

"Alright then, let's put it at that," says Elindei. "What is your difference between the mages—the most skillful ones—the adventurers, the fervent ones—what differs YOU from THEM?"

Lucas smiles.

"I have Ezekiel Johann Unsterblich," says Lucas.

"Oh?" Axkell raised his brow.

Elindei frowned, showing her bemus.e.m.e.nt.

"I have Ezekiel Johann, the next schoolmaster, and the young man who invented this." Lucas thuds his staff, and then, a magic circle appeared. In that magic circle, he cast a water spell, and then a water whirlpool came to life, its diameter and radius getting wider.

Ezekiel sauntered towards the whirlpool, and then he extended his arms towards it, yet his arm did not appear on the opposite end.

"Wh-what's that?"

"A water-based teleporter," Ezekiel says. "Once Lucas takes this to the continental cliff…"

Eli stood up from her seat.

"An expedition would be possible!"

"That's a very good proposal," says Axkell. "But how are you sure that magic works on the continental cliff? If they did work in the endless forest, then Julian Ortfalcon returned shortly after he finds the cure. Teleportation is not a new thing in this world."

Ezekiel Johann flashed a smile.

"If this portal is powered by magic, sure." He says, and then he withdrew his hand with a book on it. "This is what I got from my room. Can you believe that I did not power that by magic?"

"I don't understand," Elindei says.

"Of course," Ezekiel answers. "This portal is powered by a magic circle. Lucas, remove the magic circle."

Lucas nodded and then the water whirlpool disappeared along with it.

"Teleportation is powered by magic and may be ineffective in the continental cliff," says Ezekiel. "But this portal…"

Ezekiel walked towards Axkell, and then seized his gla.s.s of water, throwing it to the floor with his gaze locked to Axkell Feuerfalke.

"What if the portal I researched is created out of mana?" Asks Ezekiel, and then plucked a strand of his hair. He threw it to the spilled water. "What if I concentrate my mana to that strand and mix it with water with commands?"

"That's still magic," says Elindei. "You chanted."

"Ah, yes, if it is written to The Book of Spells," says Ezekiel, "or if it belongs to the Opus; that'll be magic."

Ezekiel chanted an unknown mantra—the language was not foreign. Axkell could tell. He studied all languages, all of ancient and old, the language wasn't demonic and did not emit infernal aura—

This was a language he created on his own.

"But when you create something you could call your own," Ezekiel exclaims, summoning the same whirlpool from before. It was now purple, matching his amethyst-colored eyes. He extended an arm to the water, and then when he withdrew his hand, he returned with a gla.s.s of water.

Slowly he walked towards the direction of Axkell and handed him the gla.s.s.

"It wouldn't be called magic."

**

Lucas received Orwell's fire message, which indicated the new place they were staying in. It was already three in the afternoon, and his business affairs were done. The board's approval would take at least a week. His stay at the capital would be extended for a while—and this was the last time he would be able to see the face of his adorable sister. He arrived at an inn which was comfortable in the eyes—cozy, yet plebeian-like. He had made quite the impression at the lobby; they were eyeing him with combined confusion, fascination, and astonishment. He wasn't surprised—it would be a rare sight for the common folk. The duke's son, not in Feuer Manor, or any other inn that would battle the worth of the aforementioned lodging? People would be talking, of course.

As Lucas entered the suite, he was welcomed with Maddie being scolded by Faustina and Orwell.

"Next time, you should rely on me more," Faustina grumblingly exclaims.

"You heard her," Orwell joins in. "Rely on her more."

"B-but M'lady, I'm your maid—"

"Maid or not, you NEED to rely on me more, Maddie."

"I should be saying otherwise, but yes, you heard her. You have to rely on her skills and her way of handling things," Orwell laughed loudly—a sight Lucas had never seen before. "Faustina's a wonder. I shouldn't encourage it, but oh well."

"Encourage what?" Lucas asks, walking towards them.

"Oh, you're here?" Orwell says and throws him a bunch of cookies using his magic. "Eat."

"What are you all talking about?" Lucas says. "And don't pretend you didn't know I was here. You would know immediately if someone would enter the premises because of the barrier."

"Yeah, yeah," Lucas nonchalantly says.

"So what did I miss?" Lucas asks and then noticed Maddie's bandaged hand. He immediately knelt and held her hand. "What happened here?"

Orwell sighs.

Maddie blushed, "I… um…"

Orwell grunts, "well, a n.o.blewoman caused a scene."

"Are you okay, Madielyn? Who did this to you?" asks Lucas, worry evident on his face. "Maddie?"

Maddie's face was red as a tomato, and she was too fl.u.s.tered to talk. Both Faustina and Orwell noticed this.

"You see, Faustina and I arrived at the inn and saw Maddie getting belittled by the Disfiegro girl,"

"The only daughter of the Marquis?" asks Lucas. "What's her reason?"

"Naïve as always?" Orwell mutters. "You know how the n.o.bility work, Bigshot. She stomped over Maddie's hand, and wanted her to bow until her forehead would touch the floor."

"Are you okay, Maddie?" Lucas asks, caressing Maddie's hand.

"Let me finish, leave the poor girl alone," says Orwell.

"What more could the girl have done?" asks Lucas.

"She didn't do anything more," says Orwell.

"Thank Go—"

"BUT your sister did." Orwell interrupts. "Tell him, Faustina,"

"I have a bad feeling about this…" Lucas mumbles.

"I slapped her on the face."

And Lucas immediately lost it after that.

**

An hour earlier . . .

"Did I charm you?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Eli…"

"You look highly of yourself, Lucas Feuerlon," Elindei says. "But I wasn't charmed."

Lucas sighed, with the face of dejection.

"But I guess it was a good proposal."

"Really?!" Lucas beamed, like a puppy. He scooted closer to her with s.h.i.+ning, emerald eyes.

"Distance," Elindei exclaims. "Get five meters away from me."

"Two,"

"Three." Elindei sighs. "Lucas, can you not be annoying for a while?"

"But you've invited me to a tea party, I can't help but feel you finally have felt—"

"NO!" Elindei faked a cough. "No, Lucas."

Lucas blinked, and then, smiled sadly.

"Oh."

Elindei sighs.

"Lucas, I know our marriage has been planned ever since we were children," says Elindei. "However, that does not mean you and I are destined for each other. I want you to love someone truly."

"Eli, I love you," Lucas says silently. "How many times have I said that?"

"Plenty." Elindei answers. "But it's preconceived. You are not certain if you do love me or you just think you do,"

"Eli, I'm ready to show you many times how I love you," Lucas says. "I'm ready to wait. I am eager to wait until you answer my feelings."

Elindei sighs. "It's futile."

Lucas took a deep breath.

"Are you interested in someone else?"

Eli shook her head. "No."

"Then, why…"

"It's because I don't want to get married, Lucas." Eli mumbles. "To anyone."