The laws of the Cloud Kingdom were tight and so rigid.
Among these laws was the Act Thirty of the Succession Rights. That, whichever candidate ascends the throne – the crown prince – must be a White Magician. Cases of them being Dark Magicians were very rare unless the heir to the throne sold their soul to the witches and thus, able to wield dark spells. But if such a case arises, they will be beheaded on the execution ground.
That was the worst of it. But there was more. The heir being a Fake Magician.
Fake Magicians are easy to figure out, because they don't have one single class of White Magicians to which they belong. One year, they might show the power of a Wizard, then a Diviner, and then a Juggler. That means they can't maintain a single ability, shifting from one class to another, because their innate potential to hold magic rises and falls.
And someone who would one day lead the kingdom must be a full man who continues attaining more knowledge and power. Thus, by Act Thirty of the Succession Rights, such a crown prince will lose his rights to the throne and the son from the Right Hand Minister's family will take over.
Eric sighed as a herald pronounced the rule out.
The evil spirit said,
I told you last time. This is why the Minister for Agriculture suggested you read futures and all that after you revived the plant. He thought you truly were a Fake Magician. Ah… can't believe we played by their game. What do we do now?
Eric suddenly walked past the red-gowned man closer to the king, driving gasps from everyone around. Soon, he bent on one knee and said in a low, non-rushed tone,
"I can assure Your Majesty that I truly am a Wizard—"
"How do you plan to do that?" the king cut in, his voice raised even without him noticing it. His face was tight, with an expression that carried the weight of disappointment. He had high hopes for this kid… yet, he was the one who would forever disqualify the generation of Windsors the right to the throne.
Maybe this is karma – their family got the throne the same way. They were nothing more than a generation of Right Hand Ministers before the crown prince back then turned out to be a Fake Magician.
Eric rose to his feet and turned to one guard, then ordered, "Get me a withered flower."
The guard didn't hesitate before he rushed to get that done.
Eric heard murmurs like what's he planning to do? and sorts… His heart pounded, but he thought he had a way out of this. He recalled what had led him to making the withered flower blossom again back then – not truly by his ability, which was what everyone assumed, but through a book called Five Fundamental Plant Emotions.
He had climbed to the top of the library's shelf to fetch the book back then. But today, someone else would bring it… Eric whistled, and in the next second, his horse sprinted in through the entrance, its hooves clobbering against the cobblestone.
As the horse reached his side, Eric opened the pouch he had hung next to it and fetched out the purple-covered book. The title bore into the king's and the chieftain's eyes – Five Fundamental Plant Emotions. And next, Eric took out a curve-necked translucent bottle.
Eric rubbed the horse's mane. "Good job, Gareth…." And as he expected, the busybody inside him said straight away…
Oh, wow… guess you saw this coming from the onset. I wasn't expecting it at all.
Queen Aria smiled tightly, her chest pounding yet keeping her hopes high for her son. She had never had trust in anyone as in him – it was like her son was another god to her because he had always been able to perform wonders.
The king saw through her and warned, "… If your son messes this up, you're all done after my death. Kicked out of the palace walls and turned into commoners who get chased by witches all the time. The fate of our generation rests on the shoulders of that son of yours."
Queen Aria said in a soft tone, "I trust him. Eric is surely a wonder child."
The older queen chuckled, her eyes following the hands of the guard who brought the flower for the prince. She mumbled, "Now, it's her son. Told you, Queen Aria, this man is nice to things that benefit him alone."
The king glanced at her and shook his head. "That's rich coming from you."
The queen smirked.
Eric began by placing the withered lavender flower on the ground and uncorking the translucent bottle. He didn't pour it yet – he scrolled to a page titled Ta in the book.
"… With this, I will prove to everyone how I didn't revive the flower back then with the ability of a Reviver, but just sheer knowledge from… the book of Five Fundamental Plant Emotions," he spoke slowly, not rushing, because talking at such a momentum makes everyone listen at your pace.
Thus, you have got their attention.
He continued, "The book, as everyone knows it, is written in Balistan, the language of folks in Middle Earth. It caught my interest back then because I thought understanding plant emotions could be a solid take, but I had a hard time reading it because of the unfamiliar language. So, for several months, I spent my time learning Balistan…"
The king raised his brows, clearly interested. "Oh, you did? Not that many people can read it because of the same foreign language."
"And that explains why only I was able to use its methods the right way. Please listen carefully to me from this point," Eric said, then raised the bottle. His eyes stayed on the page. "From the first page I read... Ta – this translates to Relaxation in our Mediterranean language.
Plants communicate in no other way than through the feelings they can transfer to those who touch them. If you open your emotional core when touching the leaf of plants, you can receive the waves… But that alone isn't enough if you have no knowledge of what's discussed in the book of emotions."
Eric summarised it by saying that when you touch a plant and feel warm waves through the tip of your fingernails, that's the plant's way of telling you relaxation. Which is Ta, in the Balistan language. And in the manual, relaxation ties to orchid – coined from the saying as relaxed as the veins of an orchid.
Next, he opened the page to Pti, translated to coarse. In a nutshell, if the leaves feel like that when touched, it's signalling a feeling as woody as an oak.
Thus, rounding things up, Eric talked about the bottle he was holding. It contained a water called the Tapti water, which everyone knew as one of the most expensive liquors in the market. It's sold at around eighty-five Shilling coins.
Only traders from Middle Earth sell it, and it's generally drunk as wine. But… what was the prince pulling with this now?
Eric proclaimed, "Back then, the plant was as relaxed as an orchid and as coarse as an oak. So, from the book of emotions, it's stated such can be revived by the Tapti water. What the liquor does here is remove whatever is hindering the plant's growth. Like pests. Perhaps, the Middle Earth have somehow found resources that hold magic and added them to the liquor. But, what's important here is that…. If I pour this on the lavender, it'll blossom."
Before he would do it, the Left Hand Minister suggested they call the Royal Translator to confirm if all he said were true because not that many scholars in the Cloud Kingdom even know multiple languages. The king did that, and in the end, everything was right.
This solved one of Eric's problems. But as he was about to pour the liquor, after the king asked him to, the evil spirit multiplied his fears…
It shouted inside him, causing Eric's hand to freeze mid-pour.
You fool! You felt Ta and Pti from that flower back then, but not from this one. There are three more emotions and there's a possibility one or two of those are in this lavender.
Eric's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. 'That's right!'
How did he forget and act rashly? His heart raced.
As though the Right Hand Minister figured out the same thing, he asked in a persuasive tone, "Why the stop, Your Highness?"
The king added, "Go on, Eric. Pour the liquor and prove yourself right."
Eric dragged air in. He frowned, yet didn't pour.
Queen Aria encouraged him in a soft, low tone, "Do it, son. I believe in you."
Eric gasped when he heard that. I believe in you… - someone had said that to him before.
That was when he was the royal slave, Ivan Belsmouth! His only friend had said that to him when he was about to give up his dream of being an artist. When he thought he would never break free from the shackles of a slave.
The princess.
He had taught her how to draw too back then, and they had become closer through that.
A hint of tears layered in Eric's eyes… But sniffing that off, he… poured the liquor.
The spirit grunted,
Oh, boy.
Eric closed his eyes halfway.
… Every civilian, every chieftain – whether poor or rich – watched in anticipation. Eric should have shut his eyes like a coward, to turn away from the flower before the result dropped, but he watched as the last drip of the liquor tapped down from the withered lavender. Because he had for long told himself he would always face things in whichever way they come.
… The wind howled. Eyes widened. Murmurs rose. As a matter of fact, the sky seemed to darken…
It hadn't sprouted yet.
Not yet. The king shook his head in disappointment. The queen covered her eyes in shame, and the older queen grinned in....
"T-the flower is blossoming!" the red-gowned man suddenly stuttered, bringing the gathering to another session of silence.
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A/N: Please vote with golden tickets and power stones! Thanks for reading!