234. Distraction Required
Lamps lined the distant street like blooming amber flowers, their light softened by the night. A cold breeze rustled the leaves, their scratching a faint whisper against the rough castle walls. From the balcony of his bedchamber, Zetius leaned on the window’s edge, his hands clasped as he gazed down, his mind wandering. He was lanting a ti long passed, a mory that felt like a lifeti ago.
His silver hair danced in the wind, brushing gently against his forehead, but the cold didn’t bother him. His allies and friends had already moved on to their respective missions, now hundreds of kilotres away. Only he remained, a prisoner of these castle walls and his own shattered mind.
There was no sound to describe heartbreak, but it could be felt in the very soul. Clouds drifted past, revealing the fractured moons hanging high above — their broken state a perfect, silent echo of his core. The cracks in his spirit grew wider and deeper, leaving a chasm, a void that he could no longer fill.
To watch hope and a dream snuffed out right before his eyes… All faded into the hazy slices of mont, corroded by ti.
He had tried to reach out to her, but he failed to accept that she had already made up her mind. He failed to see it. The truth had been evident since the day she returned and carried out the execution before him. He should have known then.
You won’t find the sa person, even in the sa person.
The thought echoed, and echoed, and echoed.
His nails dug into his palms, and his jaw tightened. “I’m such a fool.”
It was ti to give up. Not because he didn’t love her, but because he did. so much so that he had physically crawled to her on his last breath. Now, his love told him that he had to respect her decision.
He closed his eyes, pressing his eyelids together. The night had not been kind; the nightmares replayed like a relentless carousel of horror.
Death and destruction.
He would rather be awake. No matter, he thought. The dawn will soon break.
“Why is the empress keeping here?” Zetius muttered, a bitter edge to his tone. He strode past the queen-size bed and saw a faint glow seeping from under the thick blanket. Cubie was still fast asleep, her face scrunched up as she curled into a ball.
He gently pulled the blanket over her exposed shoulder and watched her expression relax. She was still so foreign to this new form, sowhat unfamiliar to him. But it was a welco one.
Zetius moved away, his footsteps muffled by the intricate carpet. With a soft creak, he swung the door open and exited the room. “I’m tired of it all,” he pondered audibly. “Any distraction would do.”
Soon, he entered the inner-ring hall of the rejuvenation building. The perpetual machine humd in the background, a constant, low thrum. The leaves of Iasis illuminated the hallway, casting a soft glow that made other light sources unnecessary.
He took a deep breath before exploring further. The building didn't seem as intimidating as it had on his first visit, when his mind was skewed by assumptions about the Dreamless realm. It was actually rather relaxing, watching the leaves fall and dissipate into specks of light.
The arched hall remained empty as Zetius strode past rows of doors. After ten minutes of aimless walking, the whoosh and clank of tal emanated from a large set of double doors on his right.
Is that a training ground? He recalled Celestius Vivian’s words from their tour. Could soone be practising this early? He checked the ti; it was 4:33 AM. It was indeed far too early for anyone.
Zetius decided to investigate anyway. With a soft push, the doors swung open.
To his surprise, not just anyone was there; it was Astral Empress Aurora Vere Borealis. She held a scythe, swinging it through the air. Each sweep of the blade tore vortices from the atmosphere, accompanied by a distinct, high-pitched whistle. Her feet shifted from spot to spot, her movents so light it seed as if she were levitating. Her fluid motion was a deadly, agile dance, akin to an elegant crane striking at its prey.
He just realised it wasn’t just her signature weapon. The empress was a master of all weaponry. Zetius found himself captivated by her display of power. No one he knew could perform such a choreography that was at once beautiful and empowering.
Soon, Aurora took a break, placing the head of the scythe onto the solid ground, “I know you’re watching,” She said without looking. Sweat soaked her white shirt, clinging to her skin.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Apologies.” He bowed, watching her panting. How long had she been in this room? He studied the self-nding concrete floor; countless marks indicated she had been here all night.
“Co inside,” Aurora commanded coldly, walking over to the weapon racks to deposit the scythe. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Sothing like that,” Zetius replied, approaching with caution. He didn’t realise she dressed so casually for training; he had only ever seen her in ornate attire and decorated outfits. Yet, the simple clothes did nothing to hinder her radiance at all.
“Is the bedding not to your liking? Too soft or too hard?” Aurora probed, her fingers brushing gently over a war hamr, then the hilt of the arc blades, undecided. “I can order the maids to arrange it accordingly.”
“It’s not like that, Empress,” Zetius said, raising his palms in a pacifying gesture.
“A troubled heart, then?” Aurora continued, finally glancing up to et his gaze. Judging from his dumbfounded expression, she was correct.
“Your perception is frightening,” Zetius admitted, his voice small.
Aurora shook her head. “Spare the credit. Anyone could see the depression written all over your face. We are at tis, simpler than we thought.”
Brushing the back of his hair, Zetius could only manage a dry chuckle.
“You are currently under Lunarius Willhelm’s arcane regi, correct?” She questioned.
“Yes, Empress.”
“How is he?” Aurora asked, inspecting the gleaming spears and shields. “As a teacher, I an.”
“Oh…” Zetius rubbed his chin, pondering for a mont before submitting his answer. “He is a talented master. His greatest attribute lies in his creativity, all while remaining highly pragmatic.”
Aurora curled her fingers to her lips and chuckled. “I’ve just never imagined him as one. That’s good to hear.”
Zetius tilted his head, mulling over her comnt. What kind of person was Lunarius Willhelm when he first started? From what he had experienced, he had always been a perfect elven mage.
“It feels just like yesterday,” Aurora mumbled, her serene expression lost in a mory. “But in reality, it has been two hundred years. Willhelm was just this size when I first t him.” She gestured to her waist. “The Arden family brought him over for a celebration marking three centuries of their peaceful, glorious rule over the southern Eurian continent.”
His intrigue flared, and Zetius drifted closer, eager for another tale.
“He was bawling his eyes out when Elenore rejected him,” Aurora chuckled deeply, dwelling in the past. “It was love at first sight.”
“Hold up, Empress.” Zetius gasped, incredulous. The fact that Willhelm had been rejected at so point was astonishing. “You ant to say, Celestius Elenore?”
“Yes. She’s a charr, wouldn’t you agree?” Aurora glanced at Zetius, a small drop of mischief in her eyes.
“I’d be lying if I said no,” Zetius admitted reluctantly.
“He said the most outrageous things, claiming he’d climb the rank of Celestius to prove his love, when he couldn’t even conjure a basic Empyrion at the ti.”
That story resonated with him, a strange anchor in his own sea of despair. He wasn’t the only one. People faced rejection all the ti; they just had to put one foot in front of the other and move forward.
Willhelm did just that and beca the honourable and glorious mage of Ares. At the mont, he might not achieve the title of Celestius, but he was just a hairbreadth away.
“Zetius, I don’t want to strike you when you’re down…” Aurora paused, exhaling slowly. “But I do wish there was a more perfect ti—”
“If I may, Empress,” Zetius interrupted firmly, “it is the perfect ti.”
Aurora spared him a look of surprise before her dignified facade snapped back into place. “Excellence. Then follow .”
They exited through another door, arriving on a circular landing with an open balcony on the opposite side. To their left, a cat Wildren maid waited patiently with a supply cart, a long, semi-translucent robe draped over her arms.
“Empress, you’ve finished your session?” she asked, bowing at the waist, her pink hair dangling. Her tail wiggled left and right, unable to contain her excitent.
“I have,” Aurora replied.
“If I may…” With permission granted, the maid, Mirai, helped Aurora put on the robe. She gently tucked her hands under Aurora’s hair, brushing it out from her neckline.
“This is Mirai, my personal maid,” Aurora introduced her.
“Nice to et you, Miss Mirai.” Zetius studied the cat Wildren briefly. She didn’t have a slave circlet on. Is she simply employed? He wondered.
“Glad to finally make your acquaintance ~ ow!” She purred, spun to her cart, and grabbed a rolled towel from the top compartnt. She then handed it to Aurora. “Here are your cold towels, Empress.” And when she offered one to Zetius, he politely raised his hand to decline.
“I appreciate it, dear.” The empress nodded slightly, dabbing the cold cloth over her face before moving it down to her neck, cleaning the sweat from her body.
“My pleasure.“ Mirai clasped her hands over her apron and returned to her station with an overly elegant flourish.
Aurora glanced out at the balcony, where the dawn had shed its first light over the distant landscape. “I need to show Zetius sothing. Would you please get breakfast and wake up Terissa and Cartier?”
“With pleasure, my Empress. ow!” she said happily.
“This way.” Aurora gestured down a narrow corridor. Ornate wall lamps cast a steady, golden glow — the only light in a passage that felt utterly sealed off from the outside world. A plush carpet muffled their footsteps, and the high walls seed to box them in. This place was unfamiliar to Zetius, a detail missed on Vivian's earlier tour.
Eventually, they arrived at a heavy, crafted door. Zetius stopped abruptly. His first instinct scread that sothing malicious was behind it, sothing that made his skin crawl and his gut twist.
“So you feel it too?” Aurora questioned, her expression darkening.
“Ye~yeah…” Zetius stamred. It felt so wrong. His heart began to race.
“Stick close,” Aurora warned coldly, before she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. A deep purple light spilled out, illuminating her pale visage.
User Comments
0 comments from readers