Sairek flipped through the pages of the new tome that his librarians at the castle had recently acquired to add to the library only a few moons ago. He had been staying up later than the last couple of nights, waiting for the right opportunity to sneak into the library to take a look at it, but the castles’ patrols were as usual, vigilant in their job. He supposed his father did pay them well, after all.
Tonight however, it seemed a few more retired earlier than usual so the amount on patrol was more scarce, allowing him to sneak into the room and lock himself in before any of them would spot him in the hallways. Now he was alone in the room filled with thousands of books, a mere lone candle cup he had pilfered from one of the castle's kitchens a few days ago being his only source of being able to see in the darkness.
“It’s going to be so hard to read in this candle light…” Sairek mumbled to himself. However, he dared not make the candle flame any brighter, for fear that somehow the light from the candle could be sensed under one of the library's doors.
Sairek was only eleven years old. He would be turning twelve in little more than a couple more weeks. His small hands gripped the large book as he placed it on the table, opening it and flipping through the pages, pushing it as close as he dared underneath the candle's little flame so the text could be illuminated and legible, searching for the index he had scried from the book’s table of contents only moments ago.
“Aha, here it is… maybe this will tell me what I want to know…”
He squinted his eyes part-way, beginning to read the following passage from the book;
Yggdrasil:
Yggdrasil is the Tree of Life and may oftentimes referred to as the "Mother Tree" by residents of Malodia. Yggdrasil is the tree that holds the world together and produces all life in this world. It is the tree that we owe our prayers to every day and give thanks for our very existence.
Yggdrasil gives the gift of life within everything, from flora and fauna, to animals and people through the life force it releases within the air. The tree exists deep within the core of the earth where all of its roots connect around the world, holding it together. These roots are used to inject life into the soil that produces plants. Yggdrasil is involved with "The Cycle of Life" (Page 284). The tree consumes the mana-like substance 'Ethereal' (Page 203) to sustain itself. If for any reason the amount of ethereal Yggdrasil seeps through its roots begins to drop, then the world itself may begin to decay as a whole; for it is the substance of ethereal that gives the tree energy within its roots to output the power to keep the world sustained and healthy.
If the tree does withdraw too much ethereal, while such a case has never happened; it is rumored that the planet will burst with life, overcrowding the population. This has not been proven, but suggested and believed as the most accurate theory with the study of the trees' ability to starve for ethereal which would decrease the amount of total life on the planet. For centuries, studies have been performed to see if the tree exhibits sentience, though no hard evidence has yet become apparent. However, the tree does exhibit some behaviors to suggest so, such as keeping the levels of ethereal in the planet optimal for continued life slowly, while also trying to cleanse polluted areas the best it can.
Sairek sighed and leaned back into his seat to think over what he had just read. He knew all of this stuff already. Most kids his age already would, this was elementary stuff that even the more poor populace would have been taught, by their parents if not by teachers, if they couldn't afford schooling.
Still, the final part of the passage did lead to a curious thought. Was Yggdrasil sentient? Did it have the ability to react and think for itself, or was it more like a mechanical instinct? How would a tree know how much life it should be putting into the world to avoid over and underpopulation? What kind of scale could even be used to pass that sort of judgement? Have humans and how they've grown and adapted over millenia affected that scale in anyway?
Then again, no other tree produced the same substance Yggdrasil does. No other tree could, effectively, resurrect the dead by calling a dead person’s soul back under its leaves, to eventually send them back out to be recycled later, the soul reborn anew as a different entity. Sure, by now people have long understood ‘what’ ethereal was and ‘what’ happened to souls when people, animals and plants died, but the ‘why’ and ‘how’ was still a question largely left unanswered. The big question of course being, if Yggdrasil creates life, then what was it that created Yggdrasil?
Sairek drummed his index and middle fingers along the table as he thought out loud to himself. “...Then again, maybe it would be best if we didn’t know. If people did know, it would surely be abused…” He muttered to himself and frowned. His curiosity wasn’t satisfied by that though. He still wanted to know, but that wasn’t the answer he was seeking for right now anyway.
“Ethereal… Maybe there is something I don’t know about still to help me understand what happened to her better? To understand what—what went… wrong.”
He blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head, turning his attention towards the book to hide away from unpleasant thoughts. He kept turning forwards a few pages at a time until he reached the 203rd page.
Ethereal:
Ethereal (or “Ether” for short), is a substance commonly used for alchemical projects, medicinal purposes and is the main source of mana for magicians since it is a powerful, readily available substance everywhere and ready to draw upon. It is known as the substance of life and it contains the four basic elements the world is made up of, which is why it is popular to withdraw as a power for magicians. These elements consist of fire, water, earth and air.
Ethereal can be a tool to help heal the wounded, or shaped into a powerful weapon such as a spell. As long as there is a place that has life in Ettherra, ethereal will be readily present. It can still manifest in wastelands and deserts, but the amount in these areas is usually lower or more unbalanced than usual. It is believed these lower amounts of ethereal is what creates wastelands and deserts in the first place, because there is not enough ether to fully sustain all the plant life to properly flourish, though temperatures can affect the climate like normal as well.
While ethereal is known for its medicinal properties and ability to sustain life, it is too little on the surface to help cure wounds unless concentrated down enough to where it forms into a liquid, similar to the properties of how vapor becomes water. Usually, the amount of ethereal is gathered down into such a substance, then later further refined with other ingredients to concoct a type of medicine or potion.
While it is in theory possible for a magician to weave the energy in such a way to create a healing spell, most healing spells are only able to heal a specific symptom and only temporarily while further aid will be required for the patient for a more permanent solution.
Ethereal is far more concentrated and common in caves and deep sections of the land, since it is released from the soil at the end of Yggdrasil’s roots, sometimes these roots don’t fully break out onto the surface and remain in caves. Ethereal in these caves may become concentrated over a long period of time if it has no means to escape out to the surface, thus causing the energy over long periods of time to become plentiful and dense enough to pool into a natural spring. Furthermore, as all living life consumes ethereal to live, when something dies, its body eventually decomposes back into the soil, where its energy is used to once more to be recycled for all other living beings to be reused by Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life (Page 167) in “The Cycle of Life” (Page 284). Ethereal is a substance consumed by Yggdrasil, even though it also projects the substance back out through its roots, often referred to as a basic machinery like a water wheel. The highest concentration of ethereal is where the tree itself rests, at the core of the planet.
Sairek scoffed at the book in mild annoyance. It was like the text was leading him around in circles. Ethereal was an even more basic topic than the tree itself. The topic of breathing in oxygen was barely elementary at best and everyone knew that living beings on the Overworld needed ethereal to live just as much as they needed basic necessities like food, or drink. Regardless, since the book kept hinting at him, he turned the book even more forwards until he landed on the 284th page.
The Cycle of Life:
The Cycle of life combines the Yggdrasil Tree (Page 167) and ethereal (Page 203)...
Sairek rolled his eyes, but kept reading onward. He made a mental note to check out who had written the book after he was done so he could avoid reading any other material they may have written in the future.
...The Yggdrasil Tree consumes ethereal as energy. This in turn produces all life for the Overworld. When a creature dies, it decomposes back into the soil and eventually the energy it left behind is returned to Yggdrasil to be recycled, and eventually, it will be reborn again into something new. The cycle is similar to how water is recycled and how we use the same water over and over again for generations, where water evaporates into the sky to form clouds until they become heavy enough to where it comes back down as rain and moisture for living creatures to once again drink. It has been rumored that if the balance of ethereal and this cycle of life were disturbed or go unstable, the amount of ethereal in the world would begin to slowly produce less and less—
A sudden but distant creaking sound from behind pulled Sairek out from the book and he snapped his head up like an alert animal. He spun his head around, eyes squinting, trying to see through the darkness. He indeed wasn’t alone anymore.
“...Laure…? What are you doing here?” He asked in a hushed tone.
“...Do I look like that woman to you, boy?” Came a man’s gruff voice.
“Uwah!” Sairek yelped, flailing in his chair to stand up abruptly, wincing as he thumped his hip against the table. The only light in the library flickered dangerously as the table wobbled. “F-Father…!”
Just wonderful. Not only had his father caught him red-handed, but he just basically mistook him for his maid… That was not exactly a good start.
He heard his father sigh. He probably rolled his eyes too. The man walked up to the table, now illuminated by the candle’s weak light, he got a much better view of his father and found out that no; he was indeed not a woman but a man, one who was nearing his middle ages with fair dark brown hair matched by a short beard and green emerald eyes that were currently staring down at Sairek like he had just trapped a mouse in the corner.
Sairek got both his hair and eye color from his father and probably a couple of more other features as well, but he wouldn’t fully know that until he grew older. After all, it was hard to compared to his mother now that she wasn't around anymore. He barely even remembered her. His father wasn’t dressed in his usual day attire but instead, dressed in a purple robe that he usually wore for bed. He even wore slippers on his feet. White and fluffy.
Sairek stared up at the man who was responsible for him, watching carefully as the man reached an arm out towards him, then reached past him to close the book and pulled it off from the table into his own hands. He didn’t bother to look to even examine at what Sairek had been reading, but he tucked it under his left arm nevertheless.
“... … ...I was reading that.” Sairek began to argue.
“If you’re going to state the obvious, then can you also tell me what time it is?” Was the response he received with that all-too-familiar stern parenting tone.
“Yes… It is midnight, I know.” Sairek sighed, grabbing the chair to turn it around as he sank into it.
“...Don’t play games with me, boy. You’re not fooling me again. Again, what time is it?” His father demanded, the tone bordering anger.
“...Past midnight...?” Sairek tried, looking away from his father’s glare. He wasn’t surprised when he was getting lectured two seconds later.
“This is the third time this month I’ve caught you in here at this type of hour. I am glad that you like studying and reading Sairek, but you need to start learning when too much is just too much. I wish you would put this much enthusiasm into your other responsibilities and go to bed at a proper hour so you can at least get some half decent sleep! And on the night before you are going into Marid to show off your magical arts too! Can’t you at least try to be a little bit more responsible?!”
What his father said about him studying wasn’t exactly true, that was just an assumption the man was making. Sure he was researching, but it wasn’t at all for his studies. He knew however if he brought up what the real reason was though, he would probably get smacked for it. His father wasn’t physically abusive, but that was the one topic they didn’t bring up anymore. Still, he moved his arms and crossed them over himself as he sat in the chair in defiance, not backing down. “You’re the one who set me up for that without even asking me. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical to tell me to be responsible?"
“You’re always asking to leave the castle and trying to sneak out of the village, so I don’t see a problem with it.”
Sairek ground his teeth. “Now who is the one playing games?”
“You are my son. As your guardian, you will do as I say. That’s how it works.”
“I'm not a lapdog who follows your every command unconditionally! You’re the one who always boasts that I’m some kind of prodigy with magic. You’re only doing this so I embarrass myself in front of everyone so I won’t feel inclined to want to go outside anymore. It’s deceitful and manipulative. That is not how parenting works."
"Don't lecture me on how to raise you."
"Oh. Is that how you were raised? Is that how I should eventually raise my children, father? ‘Combat Training’? Are you kidding me?” Sairek growled, moving to stand himself up, doing his best to become level with his father’s own glare, despite being more than a foot and a half under the man’s height. It didn't work, but he tried.
“What am I supposed to do? Blast my foe with a jet of water? Hope they just float away with a gentle breeze? Hope they trip on a rock? Pray that a small candle fire turns them to ash?” Sairek moved his arm to point at the candle cup for emphasis.
“You’re a bright boy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. That’s what it’s for. To get you thinking on your feet.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure the people will be very impressed. ’Oh your Majesty King Aayron, You’ve raised such an intelligent and capable son!’ ...Or something like that... right? Isn’t the whole point of perpetually locking me up in the castle to keep me safe? That’s what you keep preaching anyway, isn’t it? So what good is this ‘combat training’ for, exactly?”
King Aayron let out a sigh. “No harm is going to come to you. You might end up a little sore, but that will be all.”
“Oh good. Great. I’m glad just wanting to go outside for a little bit is such a crime to you. Good job, you sure showed me.” Sairek responded dryly.
“Boy...“ If looks could pierce flesh, it would have. “Keep up that kind of talk with me and it’s not just the combat training you are going to be concerned about tomorrow.“
Sairek clenched his jaw. Pride and wanting give his father a piece of his mind was pressuring him to not want to back down from this, but all it would ultimately do is serve him to get yet another fresh round of punishments and just set up yet another round of arguments between the both of them. Let his father have his childish win...
He looked down at his feet, submissively “Sorry, Sir...” he forced himself to mumble with every fibre of his being.
“That’s better.” His father said approvingly, which caused Sairek to ball his hands into fists. “Now get to bed. If you’re not out of here in the next two minutes, I’m going to have a soldier escort you back. By force.”
His father began to walk back away. Sairek eyed that he was still holding the book. Damn.
He waited until he heard the door to the library close before he released a shuddering exhale that he had been holding back. Half-heartedly, he kicked at the legs of the chair to sloppily put it back into proper place back against the table. Afterwards, he held his right hand up, the stale air in the room beginning to circulate just a little more. His eyes scrunched and glared at the candle in concentration.
“Wuaie…!” He hissed under his breath, moving his arm in a slow brushing motion in front of him until stopping with his hand outstretched at the candle, willing the wind to gust at it to hiss it out.
...Instead, what really happened was that the flame on the candle just danced around a little, clearly disturbed by something, but not even close enough to being blown out. Sairek grunted in disgust, feeling even worse now. He knew if he had been holding his staff, that summoning a wind to blow out the candle and possibly accidentally toppling over a few books would have been something he could do. Without his staff though, he may as well have been just as magical as a rock for all the good it did him. The staff was probably the only reason he was able to actually use magic; not because he was good at it, like his father continued to boast that he was.
Defeated by both his father and a mere candle flame as extra salt into the open wound, he hissed the flame out by pinching it with both his index finger and thumb. The library nearly turned to black in an instant.
* * *
The morning sun streaked through the two large bedroom windows, one of which was shining on Sairek’s bare upper torso and face causing him to have to squint his eyes partway shut and tilt his face away from the glare of the sun. His maid, Laure, was dressing him up in preparation for the day. He was standing next to his bedroom mirror, currently only wearing white undergarments.
Sairek, despite his studying and being holed up in the castle every single day still was getting a decently fit body that was becoming more pronounced as he had begun creeping closer towards what would be his preteen year, granted it wasn’t entirely for free. The royal clothing he had to wear everyday, which he had multiple pairs of and the smallest was generally taken away and resewn as he was measured again now and then to accommodate his growing body was encumbersome to wear. The clothes were heavy because of the fact that it was made to protect him. First physically in that the layers of cloth hid studded armor underneath the clothing and then they also protected him magically due to an obscene number of carefully made enchantments on it.
The amount of protection that even his daily attire had was something he normally got annoyed about. What or who would hurt him in the castle, after all? The four kingdoms have even been at peace for the last couple of centuries. Today though, he was quite thankful for their existence. The weight would still be a problem, though. How much could he actually exert himself before he would be left a panting and sweating mess?
At the very least, he supposed that the clothes as he walked around the castle helped exert calories and kept his weight in check. It was not like he got any other excersize done.
The way he was dressed was always the same. First, Laure would hand him his pants, which he would step in, at first it had always been with her help, but as he grew older, he assured her that he was indeed old enough that he knew how to put pants on. While they both worked on dressing him, they usually made small talk, though today, it was less small, he supposed.
“You seem troubled today, Master. Are you that worried?” She asked him.
“...Yes.” Sairek sighed as he pulled his pants up his legs. “I guess I’m having trouble with the emotionless mask Father so diligently taught me to put on.” Said 'mask' was something he put on more often than he'd like. He'd rather express himself with how he was feeling than hide it. Emotions existed for a reason, they did not exist just to be hidden.
“Oh no, you are holding it up well, Master.”
“Ah, of course.” Sairek smirked slightly in amusement. “You do know me best, after all.”
“You will do fine. I know you resented him in the moment, but your father is correct about one thing. You are a bright boy. If you keep thinking negatively like this, it will affect your judgment in the fast moment decisions you’ll need to make.”
Sairek turned to look at Laure. She was going into her fifties soon, but she still looked like she was in her early to mid-thirties. Her hair was naturally a brilliant blue-silver which she kept cut even, not allowing it to grow past her shoulders. She wore the usual attire for such a servant of her position; a dark brown maid dress that almost touched the floor, tightened around the waist, with a white apron attached. She also wore white gloves, as if her fingers getting over the place would be a problem, though Sairek knew that was not at all the case.
Before Laure had been a maid, she had been a regular soldier at the castle. Quite the high ranking one at that. That was before Sairek had even been born. One of the roles of such a position is to keep the country clean of both criminals and monsters. Something her hands had not gotten out of clean from scars.
When he was younger, about eight or nine, he had been persistent on her showing him them. She was reluctant at first, but she showed him them. Sairek had found them “neat”, which made Laure laugh at the time. The process to erase the scars was a long, patient process that would take many years. Though Sairek had never asked to see them again, he would occasionally ask how they were recovering and all he knew was that it was apparently ‘going as well as it could’.
It wasn’t that they were grotesque, but it was unsightly for a maid, or so Laure put it, anyway, though they had mostly been faded due to the recovery process by the time he saw them in the first place, they were still visible, he supposed.
Sairek lifted both of his arms up now instinctively, even as he was reminiscing about that time. His vision became blinded by blue cloth as Laure slid his shirt over his face and arms until with a bit of pulling by Laure, his head popped out through the other end. Once she had tucked the hem of the shirt to his waist, he dropped his arms back down.
Next came the light-yellow tabard that draped over his front and back. Sairek glanced down as she centered it around his form. The symbol of the country of Ceareste, his and his father’s country, was etched onto the tabard. A diamond-like shape, crossed in the center and shaded differently in the four different portions, lightest in the top left, to slightly shaded in the top right and bottom left, and finally darkest in the bottom right. It was literally a symbol of the country's Royal Jewel. He thought it was a bit narcissistic, but he wasn’t exactly against it either. He supposed in the end, it was fitting and that’s what counted for a country’s symbol - for better or for worse as much as he loathed to admit it. Ceareste held on to age-old traditions to what he considered was an unhealthy degree. But maybe that was just his 'bias' talking.
After the tabard was put on, Sairek slowly bowed his head forwards. A red cape, combined with a short and deep blue mantle over top of the red cloth and all tied together at the front with the Royal Jewel itself, was slid over his head. The blue mantle was barely a mantle, square in shape, but had a hole for his head like the cape and a bit of extra cloth that leaned down his back which did serve as a functioning hood, not that he needed it much, and the cloth stretched a length to just above his elbows when he stood neutral.
The red cape was almost the same as the mantle, except just a couple inches longer on all sides, allowing it to peek out from underneath the mantle and it draped down his back much further, all the way down to his heels and nearly touching the floor. The cape tied into a red bow at the front of his chest, where the mantle tied under that bow, with two small blue threads about the width of both of his fingers and a length of eight inches, dangled down below the red bow.
The center of the red bow held the Royal Jewel, a small, pristinely white gem between two to three inches in height and half of that as wide. This jewel was the pinnacle and proved his status in the royal family; proof that he was clearly "Prince Sairek Ceareste", Father of King Aayron Ceareste and the son of the deceased Queen Melina Ceareste.
Sairek nodded in confirmation to Laure and leaned back to the seat that was behind him to sit down. Mechanically, he raised his right foot first. Laure slid on a white cotton sock over his foot, then a light brown leather boot, studded with a metallic silver plate at the top and around the front half of the ankles. They both did the same with the left foot. Then he held both his arms forming a sort of ‘T’ with his body, as gloves of the same type of leather, with the same type of silver plating at the back of the gloves in a rectangular, but nearly square shape that would protect the back of his hands were slid on both of his hands by Laure. Finally, he stood up and readjusted his pants before holding his arms out halfway to give Laure space to secure a belt of the same type of leather, but lined with gold for clasps to secure around his waist, keeping his pants secured in place as well as the tabard from flailing into the air too much when he moved, but it still hung down to a short distance above his knees, still giving it some leverage. The cape of course was free to do whatever it wanted in the wind.
Sairek looked back at himself in the bedroom mirror and held his right arm out expectantly. Laure was already moving back from the bed, where his staff was placed into his right hand and he moved it, putting the end of it against the floor and holding it upright along his body as he held it in his right hand.
It looked like just a regular, gnarled wooden staff, but it was one of the most potent of staves in the world. It wasn’t just a piece of wood; it was a piece of Yggdrasil, which had been very carefully, and painstakingly drilled out from a piece of root and then carved meticulously into shape. The whole process took many months, nearly a year, with multiple people working on it. Being made out of Yggdrasil made it both incredibly rare, incredibly powerful, incredibly expensive and incredibly useful. There wasn’t much that could penetrate through Yggdrasil’s bark. Special machinery was required for that. Its durability and hardness was only rivaled against diamond, and it would happily drink any sort of flame for breakfast because it was made from a piece of Yggdrasil. It very easily drew ethereal in when channeled into.
Which Sairek was sure why his spells without the staff was so pathetic, and… ‘acceptable’ at best, with it.
Since it was for his size, Sairek could wield it just fine, it would probably still be fine he guessed, by the time he was an adult. It was by no means a small staff. It was taller than him at five feet even, and he only stood currently at four feet and two, maybe three inches by now, but unless he grew very tall, he assumed it would be fine for him by the time he grew to be an adult. It was pretty lightweight, regardless.
Sairek sighed. His father had spent a fortune to get him this staff. Renting Kiorian technology for the appropriate tools was not cheap. Unfortunately, that time had been before their relationship had turned particularly sour. It was a constant reminder to him of what once was and what he wished it could return to. Instead, he was stuck with whatever today was going to be, which he was sure would be anything but ‘good’.
He felt his head nudged slightly, snapping him out of his thoughts again as his eyes looked up slightly in the mirror in realization that Laure was combing his hair into place. He let her, his head occasionally being tilted from the efforts of her task.
“Should we get you another haircut, Master?”
“Ugh. It’s not even long.” Sairek groaned. Only a couple of his bangs at the front could even reach his eyebrows. He closed his eyes as Laure combed the front of his hair close to his face. “So what if it’s a little bit shaggy and hard to get into place. I’m not perfect, so neither does my hair need to be.”
Laure chuckled at him. “Well, I won’t mention it again if your father doesn’t pester me. That’s always the deal, right?”
“Lands…” Sairek groaned. “Thank goodness I got stuck with you after my mother died. If Father knew how much you actually let me get away with, he’d make you switch roles in a heartbeat.”
Laure frowned slightly. “He knows more than he lets on, I fear.”
“Are you sure? I do try to be careful.”
“I got lectured due to your little… trip to the library earlier this morning, you know.” Laure reminded him.
“What? Why?” Sairek demanded opening his eyes and turning to face her with a frown.
“Hey - don’t move!” She scolded him. He turned back to face the mirror and she resumed combing his hair. “I believe it was because you thought he was me.” She said, pausing midstroke with the comb in his hair and looked at him credulously. “...Seriously? We look nothing alike.”
Sairek’s face flushed with color and he fidgeted in his seat, able to spot her look because of the mirror. “Look, I kept the candle dim so I wouldn’t be spotted in the first place. It was practically pitch black! I could barely read as it was! And he had that robe on which kind of looks like a dress on him, so… so... um… could you stop glaring at me like that, please?”
Laure sighed, and resumed combing his hair. “Yes, yes... Well, in any case, because you called out to me at first, he thought I had something to do with it. Which in all fairness, I suppose he is correct, you are supposed to be my responsibility. Anyway, there will be ‘consequences’ for me if he catches you in there again. Whatever that means.”
Sairek sighed. That was also another way that his father tried to control him... by taking it out on her. “Sorry, Laure…”
“Well, I doubt it would be like anything you are going to have to put up with today, Master. She said, finishing the last stroke and pulling the comb back. “Ah, you look so lovely as always. A shame it’s probably going to be ruined by the roughhousing by the end of the hour.”
That didn’t instill him with much confidence. He gulped.
“And it is such a hot day today. Honestly, why couldn’t he have picked a day with more cool weather at least?” She kept complaining. Ushering Sairek to stand to his feet and walking over towards the door to his room, which Sairek followed her.
“You know the drill. I certainly can’t look my role if I’m not wearing two or three different layers of clothing on a hot summer day.” Sairek drawled.
“I should pack you extra water just in case. You’ll need it today.”
She was definitely not helping him feel better. He wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose or not. If she was, then she was probably more annoyed than his little escapade last night than she was letting on. That would be unlike her, but not impossible either.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot, I have something for you, Master.”
Sairek blinked. “Huh?” Laure reached behind into the back pockets of the apron of her maid outfit and pulled out a book. He immediately recognized it from the one he had been reading last night. He eyed the book, then her with a questioning look supported with a raised eyebrow. Well, that certainly answered his momentary doubt of her character. “How did you even know? Or… even better, how did you get it back?”
“Your father told—” She started, bit her lip, paused, then cleared her throat as she spoke in a more hushed tone. “Your father complained about it out loud earlier. So, as is my duty to keep the castle clean and put misplaced items back where they belong, I took it when I was cleaning his room this morning. I trust my Master however could do me this one little favor and will return it back to the archives for me some time later, yes? I do have a very busy schedule ahead of me today and there simply just isn't enough time for me to return it myself, I am afraid.” She asked and held the book out to him to take.
Sairek chuckled with a wide grin, taking the book from her and whispered quietly just in case someone beyond the door might be able to hear. “Thanks.”
She smiled back. “We still have a few more minutes to go before we head out. Maybe finish what you were reading earlier to help calm your nerves a little.” She said, but her smile faded. “...But… you were reading up information trying to research her again, weren’t you?”
The grin faded from Sairek’s face, becoming more sullen. “Yeah, but you know if I mention it to my father… well…” He trailed off, shrugging absently.
“Master, please forgive my bluntness, but if it was a disease nobody had known or seen before, I don’t think somebody would or even could have written about it in books that existed at least before she had fallen ill in the first place.”
Well, when she put it that way, he did feel a bit silly, but he appreciated her bluntness more times than not. It was why he liked her. Still though... “I understand Laure, but reading books is the only thing I can do to find anything about it… I can only just read until I see something that may give me a hint, or read and find nothing. There’s… nothing else I can do. Not anymore.” His eyes turned softer as he looked down at the book in his left hand. “It's just… if such a disease hit someone once, then what’s stopping something similar from hitting someone else again? All we know is it was like accelerated aging and since I was inside of the womb when she got sick, well…”
“Sairek—Master, it’s been twelve years since then. You’re fine and are growing up just fine, too.” She reassured him, then gave him a look. “...Still a little bit on the short side, though."
Sairek frowned a pout at her, his tone dry. “Gee. Thanks.”
She walked over, placing both of her gloved hands on top of his shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze before kneeling down to be eye level with him. “But Sairek,” she began, dropping the whole 'Master' notation, “...you may be the prince and second in command of this wonderful kingdom, but you are still a child. Yes, you will become an adult, but you’re still not there yet and you still have time. I know you envy every other child, playing freely without responsibility while you feel trapped within the walls of riches you and your father own… just remember, that it is still too early for you to act like an adult, despite what your father may think.
“You only get to be a child once in this cycle… it truly is just a short time that you will be able to experience childhood. Childhood is truly the peak of most people’s lives. It tends to unfortunately, only go downhill from there. However, if you’re too curious to satisfy your questions instead of live, then you will forever miss the opportunity to experience it and that can shape you very negatively as a person. Studying can be done throughout a life-time, but do not let your past chain you to the point that your life slips through your fingertips until it’s too late and you've wasted it all. Childhood only happens once. Make use of the remaining time you have available to you.”
Sairek blinked at her. It took him a minute to take all of that in. After a moment of silence, with her pale blue eyes staring into his own emerald ones, he finally managed to twitch his head in a short, curt nod. “...I… will remember that well. Thank you, Laure.”
She squeezed both of his shoulders once, and then uprighted herself to stand and curtsied to him in a silent departure. She opened and closed the bedroom door behind herself. Well, it would at least be a short departure. She would be back in less than quarter of an hour or so to pick him back up. Sairek inhaled and exhaled slowly, turning towards his study desk, the book still in his left hand. He walked towards the table, sliding himself into the seat and leaning his staff against the table as he split the book open halfway and flipped through the pages again, returning back to the 284th page to resume reading the passage he had been interrupted from last night.
...the amount of ethereal in the world would begin to slowly produce less and less life until the amount of ethereal can be recovered to normal levels. This has only happened once in recorded history in 183 A.C. where the Yggdrasil tree was infected with a special type of magic developed from black magic and cast upon the tree by a demon to try and escape free from their sins. Although the tree gradually recovered on its own, a great deal of ethereal was consumed in its recovery against the magic This caused the world to enter a state of near decay for a short period of time. Natural disasters were more frequent and droughts with harsh winters were quite common. Slowly over time, the amount of ethereal in the world rebalanced itself again.
It’s theorized that if Yggdrasil was ever inflicted with something that would ultimately destroy it, in the tree’s absence, the Overworld as we know it would have to rely on itself to live on with constant natural disasters and decay until eventually becoming another Underworld where humans would die out and demons would rule freely over it.
It is of the utmost importance that the Cycle of Life is not tampered with in any way as it could affect the entire world and the very way that all beings live, potentially leading to a cataclysm. As a result of the demon's attack against the tree, the Four Great Kingdoms have agreed that Yggdrasil should be considered neutral territory that is heavily safeguarded. A separate council made to safeguard Yggdrasil and preserve this cycle has been created by all four kingdoms, but reigns free from each kingdom’s rule, equally funded by each of them and governed by itself, independent of any country’s allegiance or state in times of war.
