Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

Within the hallowed halls of the academy, nestled within the guest room building, an animated conversation unfolded in one of the dimly lit corridors.

The figures engaged in the discussion were none other than the dignitaries of two esteemed schools – the elf dean, Yralissa, and the head of the Gornadorahl School, Vanuc.

As they strolled through the corridor, Vanuc, a towering figure with an air of authority, voiced his thoughts about a name. "Jaegar Ambrose," he mused, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "The name Ambrose does ring a bell, but I can't seem to remember who or what."

Yralissa, her elven grace evident in every step, replied with a knowing smile. "Augusta Ambrose,"

"he's her son," she revealed, the simplicity of her statement carrying weight.

Vanuc's eyes widened in recognition, a sudden realization dawning upon him. "He is her son!" he exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and revelation in his voice. "No wonder he looked so familiar. That aura I felt when he used that magic – that kid is surely her son."

Yralissa nodded in acknowledgement, her keen eyes reflecting the depth of her understanding. They had attended each other's events for several years, fostering a familiarity that transcended formalities. She could see Vanuc connecting the dots, memories of Augusta Ambrose resurfacing.

As they continued their conversation, Vanuc couldn't help but express a lingering curiosity. "But I could tell there was something about him that made me curious. I don't know what it was for sure."

Yralissa, attuned to the nuances of magical energies, picked up on his sentiments. "You felt it too," she stated, her words carrying an unspoken understanding. There was more to Jaegar Ambrose than met the eye, and Vanuc's intuition had not failed him.

Vanuc contemplated her words, realizing that Jaegar had held back during the duel. "He's hiding something," Vanuc remarked, a note of fascination in his voice. "A powerful, ancient magic, perhaps?"

Yralissa nodded in agreement. "I felt it too. The traces of ancient magic linger on him. The spell he used, it hailed from times long past, and yet, he hasn't displayed its full potential. That kid is a mystery, and I suspect he has deliberately kept certain aspects of his abilities concealed."

Their conversation trailed off into thoughtful silence as they walked through the academy's corridors, the mysteries surrounding Jaegar Ambrose adding an intriguing layer to the already captivating events of the Summit.

*

Yralissa retraced her steps to her room, the air still buzzing with the remnants of the celebratory atmosphere. Once inside, she closed the door behind her, enveloping the room in a cocoon of privacy.

With a deliberate motion, she slipped her hand into the sleeve of her elegant robe, retrieving a small, unassuming object.

A white sphere materialized in her palm, its surface pristine and ethereal. Yralissa placed it gently on the table beside her bed. Seated on the edge of the bed, she focused her gaze on the sphere, a conduit to a faraway place.

As she initiated the connection, the sphere came to life with a soft glow. An image materialized, revealing the visage of a person within. Yralissa began a conversation, her voice carrying a tone of significance and confidentiality.

*

Outside, the night had gradually succumbed to silence as the echoes of celebration faded. The moon cast a soft glow over the sleeping academy, its tranquillity in stark contrast to the vibrant energy that had filled the air just hours before.

The professors, ever watchful, had urged the students to conclude the festivities and retire to their rooms. Reluctantly, the students dispersed, leaving behind the lingering energy of the Summit's opening day.

The students of Cledwarys were in high spirits because of the first win.

Professor Isadora was busy with the summit, and she was proud of Jaegar and how he had performed in the duels. Right after he returned, she was so happy to see him and glad that he was alive and well.

There was no sight of Jeanine, and whatever she was doing, only she knew. She never once showed herself in front of Jaegar again after the incident in her room.

Pierre and Jennifer, seizing a moment of clandestine escapade, made their way to Pierre's room, navigating the quiet corridors with the stealth of mischief. Unbeknownst to them, Jaegar had observed their subtle departure, his awareness extending beyond the surface.

As the professors took charge, ushering students to their respective quarters, Jaegar felt a weariness settle in. The prospect of sleep beckoned, and he headed to his quarters.

Isadora watched Jaegar walk towards his room but didn't say anything to him or call him out. She saw him leave as she sent all the students away to their rooms.

Once within the confines of his room, the desire for rest was momentarily set aside.

Seating himself in a meditative posture, Jaegar embarked on a session of profound introspection. The immemorial arts, a complex tapestry of ancient knowledge, unfolded within the recesses of his consciousness. Meditation became a conduit for understanding, a means to decipher the intricacies of the arts that he subconsciously practised within his mind space.

The mind space, a unique sanctuary of contemplation, provided Jaegar with a canvas to explore the depths of the immemorial arts. With each breath, he delved further into the esoteric realm, the silence of the night amplifying the resonance of his meditative journey.

*

In the quaint town of Bayglan, nestled near the academy, in the charming inn. Within the confines of this establishment, a room held the presence of two individuals, Lorcan and Ethan. The ambience was steeped in an air of mystique, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the timeworn walls. The wooden beams overhead echoed with the distant laughter and merriment of the town below.

As they sat in the cosy room, the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with a sense of anticipation.

In the hushed confines of the inn room, Lorcan's gaze met Ethan's as the latter voiced his concerns. "Lorcan, I don't think we should be coming here anymore," Ethan uttered, his words punctuating the air with a palpable sense of worry.

Lorcan, puzzled, fixed his eyes on Ethan, inquiring, "What do you mean by that?" The flickering candlelight mirrored the uncertainty etched on Lorcan's face.

A shadow of concern crept into Ethan's expression as he explained, "You told me that person wasn't responding." Lorcan's response was nonchalant, a simple "So."

Ethan, his worry evolving into a somewhat fearful expression, continued, "I think it's better if we don't stay here anymore."

In the intimate glow of the inn room, Lorcan's voice cut through the air, addressing Ethan's unease. "I'm sure you're thinking too much into it," he reassured, his tone carrying a hint of dismissiveness.

"And if that Jaegar isn't dealt with, we will be dealing with the consequences of what we've done until now. Things have come this far, and it won't do any good for any of us if we leave it be. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Lorcan's eyes discerned the tension etched on Ethan's face, but he wasn't in the mood to cater to his friend's worries. Jaegar was garnering more attention, ascending to heights that were previously beyond Lorcan's grasp, a fact that fueled his growing anger. They had been forced into stillness for too long, primarily due to what had befallen Jaegar.

The imperial palace remained shrouded in an eerie silence, except for the presence of the empress and Jacqueline, who had left the palace and not returned.

Lorcan, however, felt no inclination to halt their course; he wasn't going to be shackled by the fear of consequences any longer.

Ethan, recognizing their shared journey and the distance they had traversed, could only nod in acquiescence to Lorcan's words.

The gravity of their predicament was not lost on him, especially considering Jaegar's increasing prominence. A shiver of apprehension ran down Ethan's spine as he contemplated the potential consequences if Jaegar were to uncover their involvement—an outcome he dared not imagine.

He could tell easily that Jaegar was no ordinary opponent to have. He had come out alive from a couple of their assassination attempts and had come back to life once, if the said rumours were true. His mind was running with complications from Jaegar, knowing his involvement and what would befall him.

Ethan's thoughts raced, considering the web of connections Jaegar had undoubtedly established. The mere thought of Jaegar uncovering their involvement sent a chill down Ethan's spine as he realized the dire consequences that awaited them if their secret was exposed.

He did know that Jaegar was already aware of his involvement—not as much as Ethan thought, but he knew about Ethan and Lorcan.

Lorcan, after that day, had been living his life in shame, and his hatred had only doubled, but he couldn't simply go and kill him. The way he treated him that day, he could still remember.

Wallace wasn't with him right now, as Lorcan had sent him away to the palace. Read now on m_vl_em_p_yr

He had waited for two months for now, and he had decided to kill Jaegar, no matter the consequences. Lorcan knew it was a dangerous decision, but he couldn't bear the weight of his anger and humiliation any longer.