[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240130/58dfda7384d9aaa9db1bef729868f7ba.png[/img][/center] Every limb Lucas had felt stiff, like he had never stretched them before. His movements were on the sluggish side but he refused to let himself lag behind and have that banshee Dame Sonia or the ice witch Dame Irina come bark at him to hurry up. The conversation with Tyler had done wonders for his mental exhaustion, and he was determined to undertake his instruction and make himself somewhat useful. Duchess Bachmeier was as stern as ever, but she was about the same as a majority of the Bachmeiers. Once he had collected bandages to cover the spots where he was getting bruised–including one he had missed on left cheek, probably from where his face collided with Tyler’s armor repeatedly–he felt like he shouldn’t waste the opportunity he was presented with. Veradis Castle was home to him once and boasted a magnificent library. The Estora library bore him nothing in regards to his condition, so he was hoping he would have better luck here. It was strange how a foreign castle felt more like home than his own did. Then again, a majority of his youth was spent here. That and he took every chance he could to stay outside of Estora Castle he could get. He needed no direction and went on his way, ignoring the looks he got from Templars as he went in a direction no others went. The palace was absolutely swarmed with palace knights; he assumed everyone was called to duty. Despite the night’s events, Lucas felt it was overkill; attacking some noble’s manor was one thing, but attacking [i]Veradis Castle[/i] was just stupid and he doubted that the terrorists would do as much. Tonight’s attack was carefully calculated and relied on logic and tactic. They won their prize if Ulysse’s death and Nadine’s disappearance said anything, going any further would unravel their win. He scratched the spot above the bandage on his face before he spotted Elijah. He wondered if he could get away with strong-arming the Archbishop into letting him leave. The one thing Veradis Castle didn’t have was his bed, and he wanted to sleep in it. His tracks already altered and he approached the man, only stopping when he realized he was talking to someone else. Archbishop Elijah was in deep conversation with Henry Bachmeier, Rosemary’s grandfather. He looked the same as ever; his eyes were sharp and focused, his stature domineering whoever he interacted with, yet he was attentive to every word Elijah spoke. Not that Lucas thought Elijah would waste his time since Henry wouldn’t subject himself to a conversation he had no interest in. Interrupting was in poor taste, but Lucas couldn’t help himself. He approached the pair and gave a respected bow. [color=dodgerblue]“Archbishop, Dowager Prince, I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion,”[/color] Lucas stated once his head was raised. The archbishop gave Lucas a gentle smile. [color=tan]“Not at all. I am glad to see you here,”[/color] Elijah said. [color=tan]“I wanted to offer any comfort I could to the holy ones, but I fear the night’s events may have taken their toll and rest would be paramount to anything said. Will you not be resting, Your Highness?”[/color] [color=dodgerblue]“I will, I just hoped to get some reading for the night,”[/color] Lucas’ initial desire to leave had evaporated in Henry’s presence, his eyes flickering to the man. Elijah seemed to catch Lucas’ gaze and he looked to Henry. [color=tan]“If you’ll excuse me, then. Dame Sonia was kind enough to take over palace security, but I must offer her my support while Dame Irina debriefs the Templars.” [/color]He bowed to the pair and took his leave. Lucas didn’t give Elijah much attention once he was out of sight, but now that they were alone, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. It was like the buildup to the moment had culminated in a quiet nervousness as he looked up at Henry, suddenly feeling like he was a child again. For a moment, Henry paid him no mind; instead, as the archbishop departed, he whipped out a smartphone and tapped at it, seemingly engrossed in whatever he was seeing. After a moment, he pocketed it, turning a critical eye to Lucas. [color=f0d705]“First my father’s funeral, and now this; does it always take a disaster for you to come visit?”[/color] he chided, raising a skeptical brow. His tone was matter-of-fact, but the Dowager’s hard-driving sense of humour was familiar to Lucas. [color=f0d705]“Ah, but where are my manners?”[/color] Henry continued, motioning for Lucas to join him in a pair of plush leather chairs. [color=f0d705]“It is no longer Prince, but [i]Scion,[/i] I hear. Still imitating your cousin, I see.” [/color] The faintest hint of regret flashed over the older man’s face, but only for an instant; his features were schooled politely neutral by the time he sat in his seat. Once settled, Henry looked at Lucas frankly. [color=f0d705]“So, what do you want?”[/color] An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but if Lucas was being honest, it would be an empty one. Besides, Henry would give him a tongue lashing if he did. True, he had distanced himself from Veradis after the death of Prince Aaron, and any legitimate reason he could have would just come off as hollow. He took his seat, taking care not to press his bloodied leg pant against the leather. [color=dodgerblue]“That would be the fate of the Estoran Star,”[/color] He couldn’t really hold himself back after Henry brought up Theodore, but it was true. Theodore's shadow was large and Lucas didn't think it was possible to step out of it. But he didn’t linger on it as he decided to get straight to it; he couldn’t bullshit his own mentor. [color=dodgerblue]“I need something that’ll give me some insight into previous Scions. Ever since I inherited this magic, everything has gone to shit.”[/color] [color=f0d705]“Doing your homework at long last?”[/color] Henry feigned shock. [color=f0d705]“I never thought I’d know the day when Lucas Estora sought out a religious education.”[/color] Henry made himself comfortable, examining some speck on the armrest before continuing. [color=f0d705]“Considering you only formally became the Scion of Time this afternoon, I daresay you’ve set the speed record for things going to shit,”[/color] he suggested casually, before fixing Lucas with a piercing look. [color=f0d705]“But you’re not talking about the attack tonight.” [/color] Lucas maintained eye contact, knowing that there was no use in waffling about. [color=dodgerblue]“No, although I’m sure the press will have a field day on how my debut will herald terrible luck for the next thirteen years or whatever bullshit they can think of,”[/color] That much they agreed on. He stopped, still guarded, but as he remembered telling Tyler, he knew it was better not to be alone in his struggle. [color=dodgerblue]“My mana has been haphazard; publicly, I have been Scion for a week, but it’s been two. That first week was filled with seizures and attacks that have put me to my knees, and my holy sigil didn’t show up until seven days later,”[/color] He confessed in full, letting everything out. [color=dodgerblue]“And even after its appearance, things have been strange. I have a complete handle on my magic, but my visions result in a variety of physical ailments that have never been present on any of my predecessors. And said visions are incomplete, or hazy, or haphazard, none of which is right.”[/color] He finally lowered his gaze, his heart thumping against his chest as his hand gripped the arm of the chair nervously. [color=dodgerblue]“And this morning, I foresaw a moment of camaraderie…with Theodore in my place.”[/color] Henry listened quietly, growing visibly less enthused as Lucas went on. When he finished, the older man simply stared for a moment, examining each detail of the Prince in deep thought. Finally, he pressed into the armrest of his chair, muttering, [color=f0d705][i]“Nemo audiat.”[/i][/color] A blue ripple raced across every surface in the room, dampening all sound considerably. [color=f0d705]“And you thought it was wise to blurt all of that out in the middle of the library?”[/color] Henry asked condescendingly, rolling his eyes. The prince stared at Henry, though he muttered, [color=dodgerblue]“I kept my voice down.”[/color] [color=f0d705]“You used to keep your voice down when you chatted with your cousin past bedtime, too,”[/color] Henry shot back sarcastically, looking visibly agitated. It was a strange sight; the Dowager was always so composed, it was utterly foreign to see him not fully in control of his emotions. He looked away for a moment, apparently gathering his thoughts. [color=f0d705]“You weren’t lying; everything really is going to shit.” [/color] Lucas was more than surprised at this sudden display; he was pretty sure he had never seen Henry like this. Even his cooing over his granddaughter was controlled, but this–if he didn’t know any better, he would think there was something that made the older man nervous. [i]Henry Bachmeier[/i], nervous! And unfortunately, that made Lucas’ anxiety creep up on him all over again. [color=dodgerblue]“What do you mean by ‘everything’?”[/color] He asked, straightening up in his seat. [color=dodgerblue]“Because of the attack?”[/color] [color=f0d705]“The attack is only a symptom,”[/color] Henry shook his head, waving off Lucas’ concern. [color=f0d705]“I mean [i]everything.[/i] For one, this is all unfolding much sooner than it was supposed to.” [/color] Henry didn’t elaborate, instead retrieving his phone as it buzzed repeatedly in his pocket. He scoffed at whatever the message was, tapping out a quick response before pocketing it again. He looked back up at Lucas, his gaze seemingly boring straight through the young Prince, before he conceded to whatever inward argument he seemed to be having with himself, and sighed. [color=f0d705]“There’s a lot to catch you up on, Scion Lucas,”[/color] Henry stated flatly, standing up. [color=f0d705]“But there’s no time, not now. For now, you’ll have to settle for this.” [/color] Henry murmured a spell, and a golden light pulsed under the fabric of his suit jacket, like a single glowing heartbeat. Reaching into that spot, Henry seemingly rooted around for a moment before pulling a long, silver object from his jacket: a tuning fork. He motioned for Lucas to come closer, holding the tuning fork out for inspection. [color=f0d705]“My father gave this to me on his deathbed for safekeeping. But it was always meant for Theodore,”[/color] Henry explained. For all the tenderness the mention of an heirloom should have invoked, his tone was deathly serious. [color=f0d705]“Now, it belongs to you.” [/color] There was a split second where Lucas absolutely hated how Henry referred to him. But he couldn’t dwell on that thought as his confusion wouldn’t get resolved, especially once Henry stood. Lucas stepped forward, biting his tongue to prevent himself from asking anything since it likely wouldn’t get answered anyway. The display of magic came as a surprise, but what was really the icing on top of the upside down cake was what Henry pulled out. A tuning fork. There was nothing different about it from the others Lucas had seen, even if it was a little bigger than a standard one. There was no hiding the mix of confusion and disbelief, though Lucas immediately looked up at Henry as he mentioned who it was meant for. He felt his chest tighten at the mention of Prince Aaron, but he didn’t understand anything. [color=dodgerblue]“What is this for?”[/color] Lucas had to ask. [color=dodgerblue]“I haven’t played the piano since Theo died.”[/color] Henry’s eyes burned, the older man clearly incensed, but he composed himself. [color=f0d705]“[i]This[/i] is how you’re going to make sense of this debacle,”[/color] he hissed, [color=f0d705]“It was entrusted to William Bachmeier by Scion Anani herself, and now it’s yours.” [/color] Henry took Lucas’ wrist, pressing the fork into his hand. He poked a finger into his chest, giving him a dangerous glare. [color=f0d705]“Keep it safe. Guard it with your life. If I hear you’ve lost it or let it get stolen, I will kill you with my bare hands.” [/color] It didn’t seem like he was being sarcastic. The glare was enough to silence any other question Lucas could have had. Granted, it was a tuning fork, so ringing it was likely the solution. But he almost wanted to call bullshit; now that he had it in his hand, the thing looked brand new. What kind of preservation techniques did the Bachmeiers have?! How could Anani have given this to William a [i]thousand[/i] years ago if it looked like any old tuning fork he could get from a music shop? He almost wanted to ask if Henry was fucking with him, but he knew better. His fingers gripped the tuning fork tightly and Lucas nodded at Henry. [color=dodgerblue]“Yes, sir,”[/color] He replied quietly. [color=dodgerblue]“I understand.”[/color] Henry searched Lucas’ eyes for a moment longer, and apparently satisfied with what he saw, he removed his finger from the Prince’s sternum, moving instead to grasp him firmly by the shoulder. [color=f0d705]“May you walk in the light of the Goddess,”[/color] Henry blessed him like a father, every word utterly sincere. With that, he dismissed the spell on the room, and the clamour of servants and guards was conspicuously audible from the hallway once more. Henry looked tired as his phone buzzed again, the Dowager snapping back to his usual temperament as he eyed the screen with haughty contempt. [color=f0d705]“I have to go; and so do you,”[/color] Henry concluded, releasing Lucas’ shoulder at last. With that, he moved to exit the library, pausing only to add over his shoulder, [color=f0d705]“And try to visit sometime when everything [i]isn’t[/i] going to shit.” [/color] Lucas’ eyes never left Henry even as he walked away, and he caught himself reaching out to him. Part of him wanted Henry to stay longer, to stay with him. But ultimately, he put his hand down, knowing that he had no real justification for it. He was entrusted with something clearly important and was determined not to let Henry down. Of course, once Henry left Lucas alone, it was like everything came crashing down on him at once. The stress was giving him a headache, his anxiety gripped his chest and made it hard to breathe, and his exhaustion threatened to come back in full force. It was too much for one night. Lucas placed the tuning fork in the pocket of his jacket, deciding that he had everything he needed from the library. He took in a deep breath and composed himself before departing.