Arthur looked at his wounds closing and his everlasting scars faded. All he had done until now was pointless. What he had endured to convince himself he was not willingly taking his father's heritage was now nothing more than a lie, however now he had a chance to notice how warm were Lancelot's hands.
He looked at the light generated by the omnimancer and the one reflected by his sword. Another spectacle unfolded until the pain that sizzled his arm was entirely gone.
Lancelot took back his breath, he was exhausted from his long day, and the use of the most difficult type of magic, a healing spell. Even though his mind was a little dizzy, he couldn't leave the prince alone, his mission would be put at risk, so he made a proposition.
"Let's have a walk. I promise to not make you waste your time. You are undoubtedly in dire need of a break and I happen to have the perfect remedy to your stress."
Arthur got rid of his ceremonial outfit to wear something more comfortable and followed his bodyguard in the long corridors. They stopped in the trophy hall in front of the royal symbol, the white shield.
The wall behind was a plate of gold with carved inscriptions giving off a vague idea of its abilities. The head of the lion decorated the entire item, a platinum alloy coiled around the white slate and made its edge look like a mane.
Lancelot approached it and asked the prince. "Do you know the legend of Milda the moon?"
The prince shrugged. "Of course, it's one of the first stories I read when I was young, it sure is a popular one. I could say it is one of my favorite books, to be honest. But I don't think there's anything related to a fantasy story in there."
Nodding slowly, the bodyguard went behind the shield, it was half his height, but its thickness said much about its weight. "I have a version of the story that does relate to this very item, my prince. Would you like to hear it?"
Arthur sat in front of him and heaved a sigh. "It's been a long time since I had a bedtime story, I'd gladly hear yours."
"First things first." Lancelot clapped his hands and all the living armors exited the place. No guard remained inside, they paid their respects to the omnimancer and closed the door behind them.
"I have a personal gift for you, I didn't think we'd be in this situation though."
A red light appeared in front of his face, yellow particles emanated from the heart of the tiny star, what made the two break a sweat was the intense heat that radiated from it. Lancelot moved it to the side of the shield, the left one, near the socket that held the elbow.
The metal expanded and a sound of clicking resounded in the hall. In the front of the shield, the precious alloy sculpture dissociated from the white quartz slate.
Noticing the many impurities on the stone, and how many imperfections were hidden beneath the metal, Arthur stopped breathing. It was no worthy material for a legendary artifact. Even years of fighting with it hadn't put a dent in the metal, but the translucent stone had dark stains beneath its smooth surface.
Pointing at the top of the stone, the darkest part, Lancelot solemnly spoke.
"Here's my version of the story.
"Ten thousand years ago, the great omnimancer Milda Gaiane, traveled all over Pazuut to kill the ultimate destroyer, the monster that burnt continents to ashes, the fabled dragon.
"The monster, as tall as a mountain, spread chaos and fear with his inextinguishable flames, he made entire populations vanish, a flick of his tail created storms of grey ashes that made forests asphyxiate, and people suffocate. A bat of his wings lifted tidal waves and any of his roars shook the world itself.
"The only way to save the world wasn't to stop the fire but its source instead. After ten years of fight, Milda was victorious. She destroyed the corpse of the monster and scattered the remnants of the legendary creature that resisted her magic.
"Grateful for her heroism, Pazuut's population gifted the great omnimancer something that would carry her legend. They named the smallest moon after Milda, while the other that moved in front of it represented the fabled dragon she tailed, and fought against."
Lancelot gave his best acting to make the story as lively as possible, but Arthur cut him nonetheless. "That doesn't change much from the story I read so far."
One finger up, Lancelot hushed the prince and resumed his tale. "Today, the treasures have yet to be found. The heart, the horns, the fangs, the eyes, none of them have surfaced yet. What you are missing is the part that created every of Pazuut's royal families."
The boy shook his head, he couldn't link the shield to the story, yet. "This is no dragon..."
Muttering all of his strength, Lancelot lifted the white slate from its socle and approached the prince with it, he showed the damaged tip of the shield and created a small spark to increase the visibility of the flaws.
When the prince's eyes went wide open, Lancelot lit the hall with much more light.
"This is King Uther's legacy, it is one of the dragon's scales, and it is far from being the biggest one."
The proof that made the legend live through millennia was under their very eyes. Black veins spread through the scale, the place it had been cut off its owner was damaged but it was the source of its blood system.
The secret hidden in plain sight was what made the Aethersworn bloodline soar high above the society. Arthur rushed to touch the white slate, to smell it, he was even tempted to lick it.
Only more questions sprouted in his mind. 'Why am I weak? Why am I not a mage? Is there any reason?' He was mind-asking the scale the source of his abnormality.
After hiring one of the mightiest omnimancers of the century, Lancelot, the king sought to awaken his son's potential, but in vain. No whatsoever stimulation triggered Arthur's mageroot.
He internalized the tremendous reveal and consoled himself. 'Maybe ten thousand years is enough time for a family to rule. I bet I'm not the only heir this happened to...'
He lost hope of being a mage long ago, to rule over the kingdom after his father and another of his goals was starting to crumble. However now, his long-lost desire, the wish to, one day, lay his hand on the treasure, was reborn from its ashes.
The dream that many children of the kingdom had, find the powerful artifact that could change a kingdom by its only sight, the lost legacy people had stopped looking for seemed closer than ever now that he was in front of a remnant of the fabled dragon.
If he couldn't be a king because of his faulty mageroot, he could become much more by finding the treasure. There was no need for a king to be perfect or for his country. Arthur's mind started to form dozens of scenarios unfolding right after he found a piece of the fabled dragon.
He looked at the item from closer, his eyes passed over and over the damaged part. He needed anything that could lead him to his new objective. The crevices had no natural pattern, he engraved the sight in his mind. He then asked an important question to the omnimancer who's hands shook under the weight.
"Do you think a non-mage king is a faulty one?"
"My prince, I believe hard decisions are much easier to take for a mage, which makes the mage a faulty person." He put the giant scale down and sat next to the prince, waiting for his next question.
For an instant, Arthur felt relieved, he was having an almost normal conversation, he could feel the unbreakable wall between his mentor's opinion and the one that had been forced inside his head long ago thinning.
"How would our people react?"
"I can't say."
"How would your family react then?"
"I don't have any."
"Why?"
"That's how much it takes to be a mage and live to protect you."
The boy posed for a second, he knew little about the mages outside of the palace. The few people able to channel the world's magicules had the same fate.
"What if you had a king with feelings? Would you still have to protect him? What if you were given the freedom to procreate and do something of your liking for a living instead?"
"My prince, I don't know if you are asking this to me or yourself. But I've lived to serve you enough time to see you grow up. Thanks to you, I know it is more than fine to fail."
Arthur's eyelid twitched, but he let the man speak.
"I've seen the king's hope fading, I've seen villagers enter the court and wait for their death penalty for trivial matters. So... I know. I learned how to see determination in one's eyes. And yours, Arthur, yours is brighter than the sun. There's no need to clog your mind with the shady schedule they have written for you, you are a smart person, you just need to find your way."
What followed was the return to his bedroom. Lancelot displayed another magical spectacle, after hanging Smite to the chandelier, he created dozens of tiny stars, with shades ranging from white to red. It made the coldness of the room disappear with the prince's many unanswered questions for the night.
The omnimancer was giving a try to every one of Arthur's requests. Trying to laugh at his jokes, reply with a smile, listen to his complaints, and try to find a solution or take some time and display a magical spectacle. Once so often, the royal curtains burnt a little.
Through the years, the bond they created became more of a friendship and less of a master-slave relationship.