Elias Leywin POV
I swallowed and forced my feet forward.
The chamber seemed to stretch farther with every step. My boots tapped softly against polished stone, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the room. Overhead, a vaulted ceiling arched like the inside of a cathedral, painted with swirling constellations of gold and silver that glimmered beneath the glow of a massive crystal chandelier.
Light spilt across banners hanging from the high walls. Crimson, emerald, and deep sapphire cloth rippled faintly in the still air, the emblems of the three kingdoms stitched boldly across their surfaces.
A semi-circle of carved oak dominated the last third of the hall. Its wood was dark and glossy, its curved edge etched with scenes frozen in time.
I came to a halt in the centre of the space within the table's arc. Three pairs of monarchs sat before me, their thrones ornate, each reflecting the style of its people. Behind each throne stood a mage.
Even without looking directly at them, I could feel their presence pressing against my skin like a storm waiting to break.
To my left sat the dwarven monarchs.
King Dawsid Greysunder looked as immovable as a mountain. His beard fell in thick braids down his chest, threads of silver glinting between darker strands. His eyes followed me in silence. Queen Glaudera's presence was no softer. Her posture was straight and commanding as her gaze assessed every detail of me.
Behind them loomed a dwarven battle-mage. He stood broad-shouldered and muscled, his bronze-toned skin gleaming faintly in the crystallight of the room.
To my right sat the Elven sovereigns, the Eraliths. King Alduin Eralith bore the grace of his people, gunmetal silver hair falling on his forehead, where he wore a silver-trimmed robe. His face was pale, almost otherworldly. His wife, Queen Merial, was elegance personified, her sharp, intelligent eyes following my every breath.
Standing behind them were a pair of elves, first an older man I assumed to be the Elder Virion, my brother had spoken of. and secondly their mage, a black-haired female elf so still she could have been a statue, her aura cold yet potent, like a winter's night beneath starlit skies.
Finally, my gaze shifted to the middle, where a pair of familiar faces sat. King Blaine Glayder and Queen Priscilla Glayder represented the human kingdom. King Blaine's broad shoulders and commanding presence filled the space effortlessly, his platinum-trimmed cloak draped over the armrest of his seat.
Queen Priscilla sat poised beside him, her hands folded gracefully in her lap. Behind them stood a tall mage with platinum blonde hair slicked neatly back, his piercing green eyes scanning me with the precision of a hawk.
I drew a steadying breath. My fingers curled into fists for a moment before I forced them open again. Silence stretched across the chamber.
King Blaine broke it.
He leaned forward slightly, the motion subtle but commanding.
"Elias," his voice echoed. "You have my deepest gratitude." King Blaine lowered his head." You protected my daughter when danger came uninvited into our halls." His gaze met mine. "You acted where others faltered. For that, both as a king and as a father… I thank you."
I shifted under the weight of six royal gazes and dipped my head. "Thank you, Your Majesty," I said quietly. "But I only did what anyone would have done."
King Blaine's words still lingered in the air until a deep, steady voice broke the silence from my left.
"Courage aside…" King Dawsid's voice rolled across the chamber like distant thunder. "There's another matter we cannot ignore."
I turned toward him. "Your Majesty?"
His thick fingers folded together atop the table. "The magic you used during the attack."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "I've seen spells that split mountains. Fire that turns battlefields to glass." He leaned forward. "But what you did last night…" His gaze hardened. "A golden light that tore through another mage's spell like it never existed." His voice lowered an octave. "What kind of magic was that, boy?"
The question suffocated me. Every gaze in the chamber sharpened as they waited for my answer.
"I… don't know," I admitted as I avoided the dwarven king's gaze.
"Magic of that nature is exceedingly rare," King Alduin shifted. "Most mages shape mana into the elements or channel it through known runic structures. You did neither, yet wield a force capable of unravelling another's spell entirely. That is not a trivial thing, Elias."
I swallowed, unsure how to make them understand something I barely understood myself. "My Mother is a deviant, so maybe it has something to do with that?" I looked up at the Elven king, whose face was unsullied by time.
"Perhaps that is the case." He nodded as he stroked his chin.
The room fell silent again.
Elder Virion leaned forward. "Be careful, boy," he smiled. "There are forces out there that desire power, and yours would most certainly be of interest to them."
My throat tightened, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I know," I replied quietly.
"Then you must learn restraint," he stated firmly. "Power like this is unpredictable. So grow strong. So that even the most disciplined of mages would come to fear you."
I nodded to the former king as my heart drummed away against my ribcage.
"And what of the healing?" the Dwarven Queen asked, her sharp gaze narrowing on me. "Reports stated you were gravely injured during the attack. Witnesses claimed you lost an arm, yet by the time healers reached you, it had already begun to regrow. Such magic is unheard of… Explain yourself, boy."
"I…" My mouth went dry as I struggled to find words.
'Enough of this crap.'
I bit my lip. "My mother is a Deviant who specialises in healing magic," I answered roughly.
She didn't like that answer. Her throne flew out from under her as she shot to her feet. "How da-"
Elder Virion stood and cut off the old Dwarf. "Emitters cannot heal themselves," he said. "Their magic is outward-facing, meaning that their mana can only be emitted into another body. Even the strongest emitter would bleed out if left alone."
His eyes narrowed further. "What happened to you, Elias, should have been impossible."
"I know," I admitted, my voice louder than I had intended.
"This power of yours… it might not just be magic as we know it." His gaze bore into me, unflinching. "That makes you both extraordinary and dangerous, whether you wish it or not."
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. "I don't want to be dangerous, I just want to be strong enough to protect the people I care about."
Virion studied me for a long moment and gave an approving nod.
My mind finally caught up with my body. Red rose to my face as I played with my hands.
'Why have I been speaking so informally to monarchs. I'm gonna lose my head.'
Letting out an exhale, I raised my hand. "Um, Elder Virion?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes, Boy?" he questioned, focusing back onto me.
"Is it true that you trained my brother?" I asked the elderly elf.
"Hm?" he murmured inquisitively, before his eyes widened. "Blaine, what was the boy's name?" he asked, turning to the king of Humanity.
King Blaine briefly glanced toward me, then back to the elf. His expression. "Elias, Elias Leywin," he said simply, his voice carrying easily through the chamber.
Elder Virion's gaze sharpened, studying me as though seeing me for the first time. His brows furrowed, and a faint crease formed at the corner of his mouth.
Virion Erailth POV
'Huh… that brat might try to kill me if something happens to the boy.'
"Leywin…" I repeated softly to myself. "So, you are the younger brother of that brat?"
He nodded hesitantly, almost unsure of where this was going. "If you're referring to Art, then yes, Elder, I am," the young human answered with a newfound timidness.
I looked at the boy, stroking my goatee. "Your brother… was a student I once had the privilege of teaching," I uttered slowly, glancing briefly toward my son.
"In my time with him, I came to know his talent for combat magic well. But what you have shown here today, Elias…" I paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
The boy shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. "I didn't even know I could do-" he waved his hands around, "-that."
"So this power only manifests under mortal threat?"
"Y-yes…?" he stuttered hesitantly. "I thought I was going to die. So my body just sort of acted on its own to save me… I guess."
The chamber remained deathly quiet.
"Tell me this, Elias, do you believe you could call upon this 'golden light' again, should danger come for you or those you wished to protect?"
"I… I don't know," he replied, looking down at his feet as though they were the most interesting thing in this room.
I left my son and daughter-in-law and approached the boy.
"Then master this magic," I said plainly, my boots sounding against the tiled floor of this chamber. "Power you cannot call upon at will is not power you can trust. Until you understand it, you cannot claim this as a power of your own."
The boy raised his head to look up at me. I lowered a hand onto his head and looked at him with a smile. "If you're anything like your brother, then I am certain you will." I ruffled his hair slightly as his eyes looked to the woman standing five paces behind him.
"Look after this boy, Cynthia."
She let out a sigh. "I already promised his parents I would do so." She snatched his body away from me. "Now get your grubby mitts off my grandson."
'Grandson?'
"You've already claimed his older brother for your granddaughter, so I'm keeping this one."
'That idiot…'
"Don't go exposing my plans like that, Cynthia…" I raised a finger to my lips and spoke in a hushed tone.
Elias Leywin POV
I let out a heavy sigh as I flopped down onto my room's bed.
'What a day…'
Another breath escaped me. I raised my left arm above me and gathered mana to it. Golden light illuminated around my palm.
'What the hell was this mana?
The light pulsed softly within my palm.
'It probably has something to do with Avalon... Damn you, Nimue.'
My arm fell to my side, bouncing as it hit my bed. I sat there in silence until a knock at the door brought me out of my head.
I forced myself up from the bed with a low groan, each movement sluggish, as if my body was moving through water. The knocking impatiently persisted.
"Alright, alright…"I rubbed my eyes, muttering under my breath.
I hesitated for a moment before gripping the handle.
'Should I? It's probably Master… or was it Grandma now?'
I pulled the door open slowly.
An older man stood in the doorway, his frame tall. His clothes were plain, functional, the kind worn by staff who had seen more years of service than adventurers battles. A well-kept but greying beard framed a weathered face marked with deep lines, each one telling a story I did not know.
He studied with his calm eyes.
"Evenin', lad," he roughly grumbled. "Figured I'd see how you were holding up after… well, after today."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… I'm fine," I muttered, though it sounded unconvincing, even to me.
"Would you join me in seeing my Lord and Lady?" he asked, giving the illusion of choice.
'Seriously?'
I put on a fake smile. "Of course, Mr…"
"Warend, Olfred Warend," he lowered himself, touching his left shoulder with his opposite arm.
With his introduction, he led me through the winding halls of the Glayder's Home until we reached the doors to a large room brimming with luxury.
The brown-haired dwarf coughed slightly before announcing, "Your majesties, I've brought the boy."
The grand doors swung open on silent hinges, revealing a chamber that seemed almost too large for the number of people inside. Rich crimson carpets led the way toward a pair of ornate thrones carved from obsidian and inlaid with golden runes.
The doors closed with a thud, shortly followed by a click of the locks.
King Dawsid Greysunder sat upon the leftmost throne, his thick dwarven frame dressed in black and bronze ceremonial armour that glinted under the soft light of crystal sconces. Beside him, Queen Glaudera watched with quiet poise, her keen eyes following me.
Olfred gave a short bow before stepping aside, leaving me alone in the open space before the thrones. My legs felt heavier with every step I took forward, my hands fidgeting uselessly at my sides.
"Boy," King Dawsid rumbled, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber like distant thunder. "You wield a power to heal beyond what even skilled mages decades your senior can muster." He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "Tell me, can these powers of yours be used on others?"
My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard. "I… I d-don't know," I stammered, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
The dwarven king didn't move. Didn't blink, just studied me like a craftsman studying a flawed blade. "You don't know?" he repeated my words.
The air grew thick around me suffocating any explanation I could even fathom.
King Dawsid exhaled through his nose and turned his head towards Olfred. his gaze gave the tanned dwarf a wordless command.
Olfred stepped forward without hesitation. He raised one weathered hand as mana gathered thickly in the air. The temperature spiked almost instantly, the oppressive heat of a forge filling the chamber. A blade began to form in his grasp. molten magma shaped into the crude edge of a longsword, its surface cracking and hissing as if it were alive.
I raised my arms to cover myself from the overwhelming heat of his blade.My eyes darted between the burning weapon and the king's unreadable expression.
"Sorry, Kid," Olfred said as he swung his blade of magma down at me.
"Hey, Wait-"
His blade fell with a thunderous fury.
Magma met flesh as the blade sliced straight through my left forearm.
'What the actual fuck…'
I fell to a knee as I clutched my elbow and bicep. A wave of terror overwhelmed me as tears fell from my eyes.