The Sapphire Prince

Chapter 21 - Late Hours I

Azure's POV

We reached the master's office. I turned to look at my young brazen sibling then I kneeled before him.

"This is as far as you'll go. Go back to the stables and tend to the horses." I said standing up. Messing Vellore's hair, grinning for the act.

"Can't I just have atleast one moment in there?" He pleaded to which I quickly laid him down firmly. The sparkle in his eyes won't hypnotize anyone apart from the guards or perhaps the servants. Any would bow down to a naive child especially when his qualities as monarchy stands as his line of force.

"You know your way inside these halls. But I'll still have a guard just for countermeasure." I said nodding at Lady Hallvadur to which she ȧssigned one of the standing guards to Vellore.

"Wait, you don't trust me?" He asks whimsically as he pushed his voice to a very childish tone.

"We are brothers..." He smiled then I smiled at him back. One moment of trigger silence which took a bit more than fifteen seconds then I laid my hands on his scalp replying...

"Of course I don't" He stared blankly at me before one of the guards grabbed his waist and carried him out. I heard faint small cries from a child who's been rejected poorly by the seconds. I sighed then I knocked on the Master's door.

"Come in!" A warm motherly voice spoke as the door opened.

The Barracks Master office is the typical grand workplace or study of an officer. Quite small unlike mine up on the palace. Several books are seen hanging from the ceiling, it seemed like decorative cages as for some reason I could hear sounds of birds beside there was none around.

Apart from Lady Mejava, there was a full figured man handling a cauldron. Looking atop ceiling I didn't notice the organized alchemy equipment laying on the birch long table. Though I can't tell if it's organized because I hardly know the items on there. Her office looked more like a lab rather than a study. Apart from several stacked books on the fireplace, there were also beakers, test tubes and an unusual stove like lab apparatus. Curious, I took a closer at it.

"Don't touch that, the compound is still at a very fragile state." Said the full figured man. Who I presume to be an apprentice of sorts or perhaps an ȧssistant.

He was dressed in a polished manner. He was wearing his palace mage uniform, embellished by golden diamonds and peafowl gimmicks on the capes and sleeves. Keeping the continuity of the Whereana's national color range, the interiors were painted with blue. The uniform might look very heavy but it's actually light.

"Ahh yes, your majesty. Before anything, let me introduce you to my son, Calcifleur." Lady Mejava closed a journal before sitting to her desk, where several spell books and charms linger out on the open and a peculiar model of shoes made from glass twirled on a stage.

"Good Morning your majesty." The man stopped stirring the cauldron then bowed at me.

He was once again, full figured. His eyes were closed and his lips was arched very playfully as if he had a face of a cat. The lavender of his hair latches well to his pale skin aroused with freckles all over his face. To my thought, I think that mouth of his really resembled that of a smiling feline.

"Your majesty, Look what I found!" Said Lance proudly smiling at the spellbinder he found.

"So when the maids come randomly at my office in the afternoon? The tea was his?" I asked looking back at Sir Calcifleur. He then offered us a seat as Lady Hallvadur stood beside Lady Mejava.

"Precisely, but now we are drifting off from the topic..." Lady Mejava shook his head then fixed her decorated tophat before opening a very old document told obviously by the rips and folds and accumulated stains of rust on its sheet.

"Your evaluations have mentioned your very unstable composition regarding mana. It's said here that it haunts mental vulnerability and could actually mimic the effects of traumas and breakdowns. Your magic is basically the synopsis of mental endangerment, fatigue and corrosion." Lady Mejava then started to write the summary down.

"Aside from the evidence shown back on the dark phases of your magic. It was surveyed that most of the palace household hallucinated over unowned images and actually lost their minds in the wake of your magical atmosphere. Your temporary curse over the palace has struck millions of magical chords residing on every household member including your family." She explained pointing her hand at the folder.

"Your spells and magical atmosphere relies deeply on your mental state. When you're at your depression, you start to swirl the ambience around you, and only in your elation could you actually benefit from the latter of your spells and circles. Concluding that the plains of your mana play with the grounds of your emotions and cognitive resilience and flexibility." She added.

I sat there half surprised. I couldn't ȧssess anything as she gave me no space to think quickly. The breath draws, she coughed for a bit then tipped her hat. She beamed at me before saying...

"No one knows your original spell and after sixteen years, you've only casted your magical atmosphere. The building blocks of your magic are all over the place, chaotic per say so I could understand why you still have difficulties wielding your original spell." She closed the folder then her eyes, holding her chin as she relaxed elegantly against her desk chair.

While she laid back, my throat suddenly clenched itself. The taste of my saliva tasted bitter and my ribs felt as if they cracked. Bearing in mind that yes, I'm old enough to wield an original spell.

Basically an original spell is a type of cast that's unique to an individual. No other person could copy the nature, the movement, or the weight of mana present in one's original spell making it seem like a trophy for individuality or rather a mark of succession ascending to mastery and prowess.

I hid my hands back and started to fidget. I looked down pretending to recall some long history but in truth I remember a very vivid painting of such memory. It was a day in the palace where the Mistress was still alive and the latter of destruction was far from happening.

It was a very gentle visit from the Cynthia clan. The breeze was soft and the grounds of the forests was moist from rains a few days before but...

"I don't think I've ever tried to wield my original spell, I didn't think of it that much actually." I replied lying through my heart with a straight nonchalant face.

"Is that so? We could set up an appointment where you'll showcase your magic. Your evaluations need some updates, your vitals, reflexes and also physical abilities. We'll need them for your benefit specifical medical records." She replied standing up fixing the folder before placing it on the bookshelf.

"When will that time be?" I asked.

"I'll settle to answer when I will have time. With all due respect, I am the headmistress of the palace military grounds and all of the alchemists revolving around the military faction..." She then sat back down gracefully like a queen before her throne. He winked at me and Lance.

"You could also invite that boy of yours to join the session. If ever my ȧssistant won't be available, your adviser will serve as a supporting substitute." She then beamed at us.

"I'd be honored." Lance replied excitedly.

"Magics aside, we could move on to politics if that fancies you, your grace." She suggested propping herself to a poised position as her body laid forward with her hands laced around each other serving as a resting spot for her jaw.

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