Chapter 471: Consolidating Words
As the throne room buzzed with activity and preparations for the impending threat began in earnest, Adrius felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The confrontation with Lysander is not even a burden, but the emotional toll of reuniting with King Aethor – his old friend – had left him drained.
Yet, he knew there was one place he needed to visit before he could rest—a place that held countless memories and a deep well of knowledge he might need in the coming days.
With a nod of acknowledgment to King Aethor who is starting to become busy more than ever, Adrius made his way through the familiar halls of the castle.
Lysander had gone somewhere after his defeat, probably going to cursed at some hidden place.
The corridors echoed with the sounds of hurried footsteps and urgent conversations, but Adrius walked with a singular purpose. He was heading to his old chamber, the one he had once called his sanctuary.
Reaching the heavy oak door, Adrius hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the ornate handle. Memories flooded back—hours spent poring over ancient tomes, experimenting with new spells, and planning for the kingdom's future. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The chamber was vast, its high ceilings and large windows allowing light to cascade over rows upon rows of bookshelves.
The scent of old parchment and the faint hum of Magical energy still filled the air. Artifacts, scrolls, and intricate Magical devices adorned the room, each with its own story and purpose. Adrius's heart swelled with nostalgia as he took in the familiar surroundings.
To his surprise and relief, he found that Lysander – who now using this chamber – had made only minimal changes to the chamber. The young Archmage had added a few personal touches—newer volumes and a few modern Magical tools—but the essence of the room remained the same.
Adrius could still see his old desk, the one where he had penned countless spells and strategies, standing near the large window that overlooked the castle gardens.
He walked over to the desk, his fingers tracing the smooth wood surface. The memories were almost overwhelming. He could almost see his younger self, diligently working late into the night, driven by a relentless desire to protect the kingdom.
Adrius allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. Despite the years that had passed and the events that had transpired, this chamber felt like home. It was a place of solace and knowledge, a testament to his years of dedication and service.
He moved to one of the shelves, scanning the titles of the books. Many were familiar, their spines worn from frequent use.
Others were new, their bindings pristine. Adrius pulled a particularly ancient tome from the shelf, its leather cover soft and pliable with age.
His eyes roamed until they landed on a specific glass case in the corner of the room.
There, encased in the protective glass, were the remnants of a project that had once caused him to leave the kingdom.
The scroll and book, meticulously preserved, were a stark reminder of King Aethor's once dark ambition—the project to create a devastating Magic spell capable of burning and destroying an entire city with a single launch.
The scroll and book were relics of a dangerous time, a testament to the lengths to which Aethor had been willing to go for power and control. The project had been a catalyst for Adrius's departure, a line he could not cross, a moral boundary he refused to breach.
If that time he didn't go, now that Magic spell must be already finished. And Aethor will become a mass murderer.
He stood before the case, his reflection merging with the dark, aged parchment inside. The scroll was unfurled slightly, revealing intricate, ominous runes and diagrams that described the spell's mechanics.
The book beside it bound in dark leather and filled with annotations and modifications, the culmination of countless hours of forbidden research. Its closed for now.
Adrius remembered the heated arguments, the desperate attempts to dissuade Aethor from pursuing such a catastrophic weapon. Ultimately, his objections had fallen on deaf ears, and Adrius had been left with no choice but to abandon the kingdom he had served so faithfully.
Now, years later, the evidence of that dark chapter was still here, untouched and preserved. Lysander, it seemed, had chosen to leave this part of the chamber unchanged, perhaps out of respect, or maybe out of a desire to understand the depths of Magic knowledge contained within.
Suddenly, the door to his old chamber creaked open. He looked up, momentarily distracted from his work, to see Lysander standing hesitantly in the doorway.
The young Archmage's face was flushed with embarrassment, his earlier arrogance and confidence replaced by a subdued demeanor.
For a moment, Lysander seemed unsure whether to step inside, but then he squared his shoulders and walked into the room, his eyes avoiding Adrius's.
"Sir Adrius," Lysander began, his voice quieter than before, "I... I need to apologize."
Adrius set down his quill and gave Lysander his full attention, his expression calm and composed. He could sense the struggle within the young man, the conflict between pride and humility.
"I didn't know," Lysander continued, his eyes finally meeting Adrius's. "I thought… I thought you were just another pretender, another relic clinging to the past. I let my pride get in the way, and I underestimated you. For that, I am truly sorry."
Adrius's expression softened, a small, understanding smile playing at the corners of his lips. He stood up from his desk and walked over to Lysander, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"It's not a problem, boy," Adrius said gently. "I understand. You're young, and with youth often comes a certain confidence—or arrogance, if you will. You still have a lot of room to grow."
Lysander's eyes widened with surprise as he heard Adrius's consoling words. The tension that had gripped him since their confrontation began to ease, and a small, genuine smile appeared on his face.
Adrius could see the relief in the young Archmage's eyes, the gratitude that lay just beneath the surface.
"Thank you, Sir Adrius," Lysander said softly, his voice carrying a new tone of respect.
Adrius nodded, his own smile growing warmer. "We all make mistakes, son. The important thing is to learn from them and grow stronger. You have great potential, and with the right guidance, you can achieve remarkable things."
Lysander's smile broadened, his confidence beginning to return in a more tempered form.
"We are on the same side, after all. We both want what is best for this kingdom and its people," Adrius said.
"I would be honored to learn from you, Sir."
"Good. Then let's put the past behind us and work together. There is much to do.
Lysander nodded, his expression resolute. "Yes!"
With that, the two Archmages—one seasoned and wise, the other young and talented—united, ready to face the doom that right at their door together.
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