Margaret's concerned gaze lingered on Klaus, and she gently brushed her finger against his shoulder in a tender gesture. His unresponsive stare remained fixed on the body on the ground.
The touch roused him from his trance, and with a hesitant motion, Klaus shifted his gaze towards Margaret. "Is everything alright with you, Klaus" Margaret asked in a soft voice.
Klaus swallowed hard, his voice emerging with an almost mechanical quality, devoid of its usual warmth and vibrancy. "Yeah," he managed to utter, his response falling flat against the backdrop of the chilling scene before him.
Margaret's brows furrowed deeper as the realisation of Klaus's torment settled within her. "Would you have preferred to be the one laying on the ground now? She asked, and as Klaus shook his head," she spoke.
"In this world," Margaret's voice carried a mix of resignation and resolve, "you're either the prey or the predator. You either kill or be killed. If you don't want to find yourself on the other end, Klaus, I implore you to recognise this truth."
Her words hung heavy in the air, the weight of their implications sinking into the depths of Klaus's consciousness. Margaret knew that this reality was harsh and unforgiving, but she also recognised the necessity of embracing it and finding a way to navigate the treacherous world.
While no response came from Klaus, there was distress evident on his face, revealing the torment that consumed him. In that moment, Keira reached out, her hand finding Klaus's trembling one. Her warm and tender touch conveyed an unspoken promise of solidarity, a vow to stand by his side through whatever darkness awaited.
Margaret met the hands that were intertwined with each other, and she chose to feign ignorance of them. Then, turning her gaze to the corpse on the ground, she spoke.
"I need to head to the palace," she said in a determined tone. "One of the king's favourite guards is dead, and knowing the sort of person he was, I'm certain he would want to investigate it."
Keira stared at her aunt intently and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "Alright, aunt. Take care of yourself and come back soon."
"I will," Margaret said in a reassuring voice. "And while I'm away, take care of him. Don't let anyone get close to him."
and with a slow nod, she replied. "Alright, aunt. Take care of yourself and come back soon."
"I will," Margaret assured Keira, her voice filled with a blend of determination and tenderness. "And while I'm away, take care of him. Don't let anyone get close to him."
With that said, she headed towards the door. The door was closed soon after, and a few seconds later, Keira turned to Klaus. Her mouth opened slightly.
"Kl-" However, before she could utter the rest of her words, Klaus began walking to the frozen corpse on the floor. Thorne's body parts were littered around the room, and as Klaus approached his frozen head, the expression on his face was unreadable.
Keira's steps faltered as her gaze fell upon Klaus, crouched near the severed head. In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch infinitely, each heartbeat echoing in her ears. Uncertainty gripped her as she fixed her eyes on Klaus, his intentions veiled in mystery. After all he had revealed thus far, she couldn't fathom what he might do next.
A lump formed in Keira's throat, and her heart thudded against her ribs in a rhythm of unease. What if Klaus had sinister plans for Thorne's lifeless body? The thought weighed heavily on her, and she grappled with how she would confront such malevolence.
But to her immense relief, Klaus merely lingered in a profound stare, his gaze locked upon the severed head. The tension in Keira's body ebbed, and she released a long, trembling breath.
As Klaus straightened, the grip of fear loosened its hold upon her, allowing her lungs to expand fully once more.
His hand reached out, fingers curling around the necklace that hung around his neck. What thoughts consumed him in that moment, Keira could not discern. The expression on his face held both secrets and mysteries, leaving her to wonder what lay beneath the surface of his intentions.
Klaus's gaze shifted, his eyes meeting Keira's unwavering stare. A rough smile played at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of enigma in his expression, before he returned to his seat with a subtle grace.
His hand reached out, fingers curling around the pen resting on the worn table. The weight of ancient texts sprawled before him seemed to fade into insignificance as his focus honed in on deciphering their enigmatic contents.
Slowly, deliberately, Klaus mouthed the words that had caught his attention: "Aerandis Thalassus Veritas Ignis."
As the words escaped his lips, a chill permeated the air, causing Keira to shiver involuntarily. Her gaze remained fixed on Klaus, who seemed to emanate an aura both familiar and foreign, captivating and unsettling. His attention remained solely on the book before him, as if the world around him had faded into insignificance.
The pen in Klaus's hand trembled with electric anticipation, vibrating with the energy of an imminent revelation. With unwavering determination, he delved into the task at hand, meticulously deciphering the spell. Line by line, he unravelled its intricate tapestry, extracting its essence and dissecting its purpose.
"Aerandis Thalassus Veritas Ignis." Each syllable held a weighty significance, resonating with the forces of air, water, and fire that it invoked. Klaus's mind absorbed the spell's intricacies, peeling back layers of meaning and delving into the depths of its arcane wisdom.
With unwavering focus, Klaus unravelled the spell, unravelling its secrets with meticulous precision. His mind became a tapestry where every thread of knowledge was intricately woven, granting him a profound understanding of the incantation's purpose and power.
The details unfurled before him, each stroke of his pen giving life to an intricate web of possibilities.
In the wake of his deciphering, the room seemed to hold its breath. The words he had spoken hung in the air, carrying a resonance that stirred something primal within Keira. She watched, captivated, as Klaus ventured deeper into the heart of the spell, his pursuit of knowledge revealing truths long hidden from mortal eyes.
And in that moment, as Klaus's lips curled into a smile, Keira felt herself drawn into a world where the ordinary gave way to the extraordinary. The cold air that had swept through the room carried with it a sense of anticipation, as if the very fabric of reality quivered in response to the words that Klaus had just spoken.
The image of him perched atop the lifeless carcass replayed in Keira's mind, etching itself deeply into her consciousness. An ancient aura seemed to emanate from him, casting an irresistible spell that held her captive. She found herself lost in his presence, her thoughts becoming a jumbled mess while her expression betrayed an overwhelming adoration.
Time slipped away unnoticed, minutes blending into hours, until a gentle tap on her shoulder snapped Keira back to reality. She turned towards the source, her eyes meeting Margaret's.
"You're back," she murmured, her voice barely audible, still under the lingering enchantment.
As Keira spoke, Margaret solemnly shook her head, her eyes betraying a hint of concern. "It's been taken care of. But you know your father; he might choose to pay a visit regardless," she replied, her voice laced with a tinge of caution.
A frown creased Keira's forehead, her hands curling into tight fists at the mention of her father's potential arrival. Sensing her distress, Margaret quickly reassured her, her voice gentle yet resolute.
"No need to worry, Keira. As long as I'm here, you're safe," she declared, steadfastness shining in her eyes.
Relief washed over Keira, her tense shoulders easing as she absorbed Margaret's words of reassurance. With a gentle nod, she turned her gaze towards Klaus, her expression now neutral, concealing the mix of emotions that swirled within her.
Margaret, too, directed her attention to Klaus, her eyes alight with a genuine smile. It was as though the world around him faded into insignificance, leaving only the book before him to command his unwavering focus.
"How is he? Margaret inquired, her voice filled with curiosity and fondness.
"Extraordinary!" Keira burst out, unable to contain her awe. "But I cannot comprehend how someone devoid of mana in their very core can wield such mastery over these spells, surpassing even those who possess it."
"You should have witnessed the way he spoke of a particular spell," Keira eagerly continued. "It seemed to bend to his very will; its power was at his command. Her voice brimmed with a mixture of wonder and excitement. "If he can achieve such feats without mana, I can scarcely fathom the heights he will reach when he finally harnesses it."