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Sustaining The King's Life 11 The Devil Who Spoke

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Sorcerers are known as humans with magical prowess—people who can use incantations which can be used in various forms such as battle, healing and research. It is said on ancient texts that sorcerers are born from a reincarnated soul of an elf, which is an undying creature. Books of older origin suggests that the souls of elves who are perhaps murdered found their way to inhabit a human baby's body.

However, these principles are not entirely accurate. On the contrary, existing "exceptions" to the rule actually exist; blood relation, for an instance, disobeys the said belief.

There are sorcerers who are born from lineages with a family tree only consisting of people who exhibits a magical prowess. If the souls of the elves chooses at random, then blood relation is not a factor to consider. The ancient books claim that the soul of elves are only randomly distributed, meaning that even if two sorcerers produce an offspring, there is a good chance the child will be a normal human.

Sorcerers are required to choose what kind of path they want to take the moment they enter their first senior year at the Academy. The path is cla.s.sified into three groups; mages, conjurers, and clairvoyants.

First, the mages. Mages are those who possess a compatibility with the 'four elements' namely fire, water, air and earth. Mages are usually those who aid in battlefield because their magic is brazen and bold due to an increased physical strength and stamina. Sorcerers who choose this path typically join guilds, embark on quests, or apply to the Imperial Sorcerer Army.

Second, the conjurers. Conjurers are those who are talented in the art of taming magical creatures. They can summon different kinds of elementals and critters to their liking. Choosing to be a conjurer requires a sorcerer to be above average in mastering the four elements. Being a conjurer also pertains to exposing one's persona, since the creature a certain conjurer summons reflects their physical and mystical strength.

Lastly, the clairvoyants. Clairvoyants are sorcerers who are able to tell fortune, do incantations like rituals and are able to create a contract. Clairvoyants have a zero compatibility with any of the elements; therefore, they are weak in physical strength. However, clairvoyants are adept in deciphering ancient scriptures, reverting a curse, and are in charge of creating a magical barrier. Clairvoyants, after a graduation at the Academy, are sent to a specialized organization which works directly at the order of the king himself.

"Transmissio." A woman's voice. "Accipio. Quaenam in illis."

Faustina's body convulsed as her mind is bombarded with thousands of information, scriptures which she cannot read, scenes of people and places she's never been before; she clutched her head and fell to the ground bright with an enormous magical circle. Her eyes are white with pain, whilst petals fell from the vines as the wind being emitted from the magic circle grew strong.


She gasped as a scene where Jonathan is smiling and holding the hand of Eula flashed before her mind—a Jonathan who seemed younger and a Eula who is around his age. Next, a scene where Sheila is studying with Jonathan — then, the King who is coughing blood.

"Archive." A voice. "Transmissio. Accipio. Quaenam in illis."

An academy where students are dressed in black, each holding a distinct staff—scepters, small wooden wands, and all kinds. Teachers who are teaching and students who are of different race. An academy for sorcerers.

Jonathan— Eula—

The king.

**

Faustina opened her eyes only to see a white ceiling with angels and cherubs painted. The scenery of Heaven, perhaps. She stared for a second and then a twitch on her head and a memory flashed before her eyes.

"A marionette played tricks on you." Sheila says, narrowing her eyes. "You did not speak with any sorcerer. You spoke with the Devil, Faustina."

"A devil?" She asks, surprised. "Why would a... devil—of all things—speak to me?"

Sheila's pale eyes stared intently, "my spell showed a marionette, a puppeteer; a person trained at the art of voodoo. Someone took advantage of your downfall and made their way to speak to you. Can you see it right now?"

Faustina's gaze drifted at the figure of a person clad in red. An eerie smile curved on its lip. Facial features were indescribable because of the cloak. The puppets looked like dolls of dark origin, holding small sorcerer staffs. A smile was plastered in the dolls' faces, eyes sewn shut.

"I can see it," Faustina said in response.

"Good." Sheila says. "Because I cannot."

"Huh?"

"Eyes that cannot see," Sheila says, "but feel. An object or a person of malevolent origin is being emitted from the middle of my magic circle."

Faustina stared at Sheila—who was staring at the void. Faustina's eyes drifted to pair of eyes similar to luminescent pale tulip, depleted of sunlight.

'so that's why her eyes were pale' Faustina muttered to herself.

"A marionette is a warlock's apprentice." She says. "Or more likely, a warlock's underling. A marionette can only use voodoo if they had an interaction with the person. Say, is there anyone who comes to your mind? Someone that may have been with you for a long period of time?"

Faustina tried to think of someone closer to a marionette. But there was no one but Jonathan whom she can a.s.sume to be bearing such evil. She shook her head in response, but realized that Sheila is blind.

"There's no one."

"Eulalia Fortunatorum. A woman very close to Jonathan. She disappeared from the academy a long time ago, before I could reach my senior year." Sheila asks. "Does it ring any bell?"

Eulalia Fortunatorum. Eulalia.

Eula?

Faustina remained silent, contemplating.

"Who is your master?"

"Eu—"

"Who is it?"

Faustina parted her lips to answer, but then—

"You must not speak."

"You must not tell."

"Faustina, don't ever tell them."

"Not my name. Not a word."

Faustina nodded in response.

And then a hand clutched her shoulder, and then suddenly sword's edge was nearing her neck.

"Do not let her go, Elliot." Sheila says, her voice was laced with a pang of anger. A climbing poison towards her pale eyes. "She's with the devil."
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"I—" Faustina cannot remember what she's going to say next as a voice of a person filled her entire mind. A voice of soft, unmistakably calm caress, like that of a mother. A voice with a sweet persuasion.

"You cannot sustain the king's life." Sheila says. "You are unaware and ignorant."

Faustina's eyes widened as the point of the staff reached her forehead.

"Transmissio." A woman's voice. "Accipio. Quaenam in illis."

"I will bestow a fragment of my memories." Sheila says. "Sweet dreams, Faustina of the Heilen clan."

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