NOVEL WEB Chapter 17: Unnamed
As Derek entered the palace, the soft glow of the bright moon cast a chilly light on the stone floors, illuminating the intricate patterns woven into the carpets. The air was thick with the scent of old books and parchment, a familiar smell that brought a sense of comfort to Derek's weary soul.
He made his way to the king's chamber, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls as he navigated the winding corridors. The palace was a labyrinth of secrets and hidden passages, and Derek knew its layout like the back of his hand.
Upon entering the chamber, Derek found the king sitting on his large bed, surrounded by the soft hum of magical energy. The leader of the Sentinel of Magic, a tall, imposing figure with piercing blue eyes, stood beside him, eyes fixed intently on the king's energy signature.
The king's chamber was a grand, high-ceilinged room filled with rows of towering bookshelves, their wooden surfaces adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures. The walls were hung with rich, velvet tapestries depicting scenes of great battles and powerful magic.
"Ah, Derek! Come in, come in," the king said, his voice warm and inviting, as he gestured to a nearby chair. "I've been waiting for you."
Derek approached the throne, his eyes scanning the room as he took in the familiar surroundings. "Your Majesty," He bowed slightly as he made his way to the bed side. "How's it going? Is he better?" The questions were for Darkshadow.
The king chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room. "Yes, Derek. I am feeling much better now, thanks to the Chancellor's efforts. I asked the 'old man' to leave 'cause he's hurt his back."
Derek's eyes narrowed as he took in the king's appearance. The king's face was pale, his eyes, a little sunken, and his skin seemed to be stretched taut over his cheekbones. "I'm glad to hear that, Your Majesty," Derek said, his voice laced with concern. "But I must say, you don't look quite...okay."
"My Lord," Kaelin Darkshadow's voice somehow, kept Derek quiet for a moment. "His Majesty is fine. All he needs for the time being is rest." He paused for a moment to see their reactions, but nothing to unusual was delivered. Then he politely said; " I shall take my leave then. "
"Thank you, Kaelin." Ryler sincerely felt grateful.
Derek and the Chancellor just exchange glanced for a moment and in they said tons through that eye contact.
"Are you sure you're fine? I mean... Do you feel your energy? How's it going in you?" Derek blasted his friend with questions.
The king leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a hint of unease. "I know, Derek. I don't look fine, but I think I am. Just a moment ago, I had these...episodes, I suppose you'd call them. Glimpses of things that are happening."
Derek's expression turned thoughtful as he leaned back in the chair he sat on. "I see. And you think these... are connected to your powers?"
The king nodded, his eyes darting back and forth between Derek and the window. "I do, Derek. I think it is my power. But, I don't think things can ever return to the way they were."
The King's Arm spoke up, his voice low and gravelly. "Your Majesty..."
Ryler's eyes narrowed as he turned to his friend. "Nah! Don't! You know that's not our way. Regret is for the weak. By the way... Evelyn isn't in the palace."
Derek smiled. "We're now entirely sure about that." He asked after they both laughed off at the princess's delinquency." So, you see everything in the Kingdom and beyond?"
The king's face still wore his smile, and he leaned back in his bed, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the walls of the chamber. "Yes," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I only get a glimpse whenever my power wants."
•••
Stanley slumped against the soft wooden headboard of his bed, his mind a maelstrom of questions and doubts. The flickering candlelight danced across his face, casting eerie shadows on the walls as he stared blankly into the darkness. A question had haunted him for years, and he was no closer to finding an answer.
As he sat there, his thoughts drifted to the arena, where his friends were to fight the trials to become mages. Stanley had helped arrange the venue, his hands moving on autopilot as his mind wandered. He felt like an outsider, a spectator in his own life. The irony wasn't lost on him – he was the son of a powerful mage, yet he was forbidden from following in his father's footsteps.
"Why can't I be a mage, Father?" Stanley remembered having asked his father when he was about twelve years old.
"I'm only trying to protect you, Stan," his father had replied, his eyes clouding over with a mixture of sadness and determination. "The world of mages is not for you."
But Stan couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his father's words, that there was a deeper truth lurking beneath the surface. He felt like he was living in a shadow, a constant reminder that he was not good enough, not worthy enough to follow his dreams.
His thoughts careened to Evelyn, the girl who had captivated him with her bright smile and piercing green eyes. He had confessed his secret of actually being a cleaner and not a mage to her, expecting disappointment, even disgust. But instead, she had looked at him with a fascinated glint in her eye, as if he had revealed a hidden treasure.
"I had no idea," she had said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're quite fascinating."
Fascinating? Stanley had thought, incredulous. He didn't feel 'fascinating'. He felt like a coward, hiding behind his failure to become what he wants, afraid to take a chance.
But Evelyn's words had struck a chord within him. For the first time, he felt like he wasn't alone, like someone understood him. The memory brought a hesitant smile to his lips, and for a moment, his turmoil subsided.
As the night wore on, Stan's thoughts grew more turbulent, his mind racing with questions and doubts. He felt like he was standing at a crossroads, unsure which path to take. The wind outside seemed to howl in sympathy, the trees creaking and swaying in the darkness... Luckily, sleep helped him escape his turbulent thoughts.
•••
Meanwhile, outside Stanley's window, Sir Joseph stood watching the stars twinkling to life in the night sky. He had come to fetch Stanley for their secret training session, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Well, it can't be called a secret since the person they were keeping it from already found out.
Joseph's eyes narrowed as he threw a small stone at the window, the gentle tap echoing through the stillness. When there was no response, he knew Stan should be awake since his room was still lit.
Joseph's expression softened, remembering the banter he had witnessed between Stanley's father and the boy. He knew how it felt to be trapped between lack of opportunity and desire. With a quiet sigh, he decided to leave Stanley be, knowing that sometimes, the best thing to do was to let the heart heal on its own.
As he turned to leave, the wind carried the faintest whisper of Stanley's name, a reminder that Joseph would be back, ready to guide the young boy on his journey, whenever he was ready. The trees seemed to whisper their own secrets, their leaves rustling softly in the darkness.
The night air was filled with an almost palpable sense of possibility, as if the very fabric of reality was waiting to be shaped. The stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse, each one a reminder of the magic that lay just beyond the horizon.
And Stanley, lost in his own Dreamland, was unaware of the journey that lay ahead, a journey that would take him to the very limits of his courage and his heart. But for now, he simply slept, surrounded by the shadows of his own doubts, the only sound the soft whisper of the wind outside.