Bewilderment.

Silence. Utter Silence.

If anyone had asked General Teroll what he had expected, it really wouldn't have been that answer; "checking out the competition."

He didn't know what to say, how to respond to such a response, the ridiculousness of it all. To check out the competition at such an occasion, in such a way? Who would do such thing, wasn't it too ridiculous?

The head eunuch hurried to Tressar's side and took his hand, "Your highness really thinks too highly of the competition."

No one could say whether he was trying to diffuse the situation or adding oil to the situation but the comment lessened the tense atmosphere. Since it were merely a test, it meant it wasn't anything malicious or worrisome but utter embarassment for the crown prince's peers as not one youngster stood. Truly embarassing. General Teroll couldn't keep his anger at all, it was really really an awkward situation.

"Since your highness said so, I'd ask for his majesty to pardon this subject so I could take Sil back." He bowed and turned without waiting for the king's response. He clenched his fist as he walked to his precious grandson, asked the servants to carry him and walked out before anyone said anything.

General Teroll's departure opened the flood, many said their excuses and found the way they came in. It was really uncomfortable, so uncomfortable they cursed back to their ancestors' ancestors in their hearts.

The high mages academies admissions were days away and what happened tonight, would most definitely make a dent on the confidence of their children. What Trouble!

The vermin, the demon, the scourge, the devil, whatever the hell he was, he really could not be ignored anymore. His single formation - a shallow spell really, could swallow attacks/ somehow manage to nullify their attacks and render those below him in spiritual circle completely immobile.

What if he'd meant to kill? They dared not think about it, they really dared not.

The crown prince, Shru Tressar, really couldn't be ignored anymore.

"What was that?" the king's soft malleable voice sounded, neither forced nor hurried, it sounded as though he had all the time in the world and what happened hadn't happened at all; only the servants knew when the king's voice was this agreeable, he was truly angered.

"I already said." replied Tressar, not turning to look at the king, looking at the doors people left by.

"I already said no to you attending the academy."

"And I said I wasn't asking for your permission."

The slash of the sword arrived faster than Tressar had expected and he barely managed to dodge, thank the celestials he'd been trained since he was young or he'd have one eye. Blood trailed down and a fine line appeared on his left cheek. He turned around then to face his father, the father he looked nothing like. The only thing similar was the color of their hair and height but that didn't count, many people had black hair and were tall.

He stood there looking at this father he weren't familiar with, raised his hand and wiped the blood while closing the line. He could repair himself, chop his hand off and he could attach it. His head he hadn't tried, records weren't clear about if a beheaded person could reattach their head. He hadn't reached the point where his curiosity would lead him to chop his own head off.

Tressar slowly wiped the blood on his finger slowly, looking at the king emotionlessly, "What can I do here besides thinking of being killed by your family?" What could he do here?

His mother, the former empress died when he was young and her husband inherited the throne but were not qualified to be emperor. He had married in, son-in-law of the imperial family. He couldn't be the Emperor because the empress had a son before she died, the crown prince. The son-in-law could only ever be king, just as his sons with the queen will only ever be kings or princes, never the emperor even if the empress' son died. That was their fate.

The throne acknowledged the blood of a Shru, the land prospered only in the hands of a Shru and the church will only bow to a Shru. A pity, even if they killed him, Shru Clan, had many talented close relatives of the empress, many who could inherit the throne. In this life time, their fate was only ever king and queen, they weren't meant to rule the world.

"Is that what this is about?" The king replied in kind, how either could not find similarities between each other yet, in the eyes of the queen and the servants, it seemed an older self having conversation with a younger self - even their expressions aligned.

That conversation was never ending.

Tressar : Your family wants to kill me,

King Shru : No, they don't.

Tressar : You'll never admit it.

King Shru : You're delusional.

They were both tired of one another.

"No, I want to broaden my horizons. Let me go see my empire." He left in his trail.

Tressar's palace was at the back of the west wing, attached to the garden and close to the forest magical beasts were raised. It was inauspicious, many priests from the church had prophesied he'd stray from the righteous path if he continued living in a place filled too much with negative spirit. Thiss, his mother had called the palace and gifted it to him saying, it balanced out his luck. Too much luck is destructive, too little luck is destructive. The empress at the time said, this palace was the only suitable palace for him, with too much luck.

He went into his bedroom and took off his robe.

"Ryl." Not too loud or soft and hurried steps stumble into his room. It was always like that, that servant. Too thin he thought, can't take him with me, he thought. I'd hate it if he died, I think, he thought.

"Master." Ryl, the too thin man. pale, too pale, a little sickly but wasn't sick. He cut his hair when Tressar cut his and mourned it for days. No one had asked him to do it. It hadn't grown back so he was still mourning it, he told Tressar when the other asked why he'd started wearing black clothes. Ridiculous.

"I want to take a bath."

"Yes, master." Ryl paused after taking a couple of steps, he wanted to ask what happened, did his master succeed or was he going to be arrested. He was so curious, so curious he got lost in thought and simply stood there, without going anywhere.

"Ryl."

The shout brought him back. He left hurriedly.

Tressar chuckled lightly. He looked around his room, ever since the empress died, it had never felt the same. That room, that palace, that father, that clan, none of them ever felt the same again. Eight years, and he was finally going to leave.

He went to the balcony and looked at the garden, the empress was his mother, in front of him he'd been mother, never empress, no matter how he behaved or how others behaved, in front of him, it had always been - mother. Looking at the colourful garden, in harmony despite different flowers; he really missed her. The empress. A Phoenix amongst man, fierce in front of the world, a warm cocoon around him. He really really missed her.

"Mother, three days later, I'll be leaving. Would you have approved?"

Sadly, she'd never answer.

"Master, the bath is ready." Ryl called out from the bedroom, snapping Tressar from his reverie.

"Okay. Pack things for me, I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"We're leaving, Master?" Tressar looked at the overly excited expression on Ryl's face, for a second he wanted it to last till the last moment and see it collapse in a blink but thought better of it, after all Ryl had been with him since his mother's passing. Yes, no playing with Ryl.

"No, I'm leaving."

"How can that be! His majesty would never agree."

His majesty... Had that majesty every truly been someone he could rely his life's events in accordance to his preference? No. He hadn't seen eye to eye with his father even before his mother passed away and the reason for it all wasn't anything mysterious or praise worthy, he and that man - his majesty, simply did not like each other. They were white and black, heaven and earth; so on. For him to not do anything because King Shru would disagree, it just wouldn't happen.

"Agrees or disagrees, it's his prerogative. I leave or I don't, it's my prerogative. Do as I said."

The bathroom smelled of medicines, each time Tressar took a bath, he'd take a medicinal bath. His constitution since young were such he had to be cautious of his body being off balance. That was going to be the last medicinal bath since he'd be off at the academy.

No, no, not the last maybe a pause till he settled down in the academy. To leave that place meant shedding of a layer, while he didn't know what kind laid beneath, it wouldn't be worse than how things were now. He took of his clothes to the last layer remaining - yes - maybe leaving the palace would reveal something similar to his undergarments, soft and comfortable; not heavy.

Tressar sank into the bath, as soon as the medicine started being absorbed by his body, the mark spread from his neck to his front and black, looking like vines clinging onto a sizable trunk. His teeth couldn't stop clenching from the pain;

Endure, endure, he had to endure!

Whatever was inside of him, feeding off of his constitution, he only had to endure, endure, endure till that shell broke.

Only three days left...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

General Teroll's House.

"Is he any better?" General Teroll asked the estate's housekeeper, Makkan.

He'd rushed with his grandson, Sil, from the palace and had been hovering over doctors checking on Sil till he was chased away mercilessly.

Makkan was an exiled noble. He had gotten corrupted and lost half of his cultivation, bearing a hideous scar and rot on his face. General Teroll picked him up when he was starting to deviate from military to business, someone like himself who wouldn't be who they used to be. Makkan wouldn't go anywhere and insisted on being a housekeeper while he couldn't do anything about people calling him general. They were of the same ilk.

"There's nothing wrong with him. The doctor said his body has absorbed too much spiritual power and will wake after it's broken down."

"What?" General Teroll stood from his chair abruptly causing the stool to fall. The table barely stood...

"But how can that be?" He came around from behind the table and stood in front of Makkan, General Teroll was a man whom many had to look up to because of his height but Makkan stood neck to neck with him.

"It's true, I saw it myself. Sil is indeed a mage."

"How is he a mage all of a sudden, they're not mistaken?"

Makkan's hideous face contorted.

"I just said I saw it myself."

"Let's go. I have to see it for myself." He left without checking if Makkan was following behind.

From his study to Sil's courtyard, General Teroll Pax tried his best to quell his anxiety. When Sil was born, the priest had forbidden them from allowing Sil to follow the mage's path, his birth chart didn't allow it, it would bring him calamity if he tried to be a mage and for the sake of their child, his parents combined their power to form a lock for Sil's spiritual power. It wasn't possible for that formation to unlock on its own, not with the power that had been used to form it in the first place. His mother had paid the ultimate price for her son's peaceful life and his father was traveling from place to place to keep their business afloat so Sil would never be poor.

He couldn't cultivate, he shouldn't. His precious grandson - just exactly what went wrong?

They reached Sil's courtyard, Makkan following behind diligently and found the doctor's assistants with a group of servants outside. When they saw General and Makkan, they made way.

General Teroll paused when he passed through,

"Why are you all outside?"

"Doctor Nylon asked us to wait outside." someone from the crowd answered.

That made the general more worried and more affirmed, his precious grandson wasn't made for the mage's path.

They reached the bedroom and went in without announcing their presence, what greeted them was a sight they would never forget.