Kion had a bit of trouble sleeping.
It had a been a productive day for him. He had completed his usual daily meditation, and practiced the mana retention and circulation needed for the new Lightning sub-domain skill he was planning to master next, which was [Lightning Speed]
Usually, this was the part where sleep came naturally, whispering promises of relaxation into his muscles and bones.
However, today was not the case.
Kion angrily sat up.
His hair was frazzled. His blood pressure was unbelievably high. His muscles felt tense, almost like his full body was in survival mode.
Just what in the gods' names was going on?
"Next time you decide to steal storm-pills from my lab, at least tell me first before you overdose and kill yourself."
Kion turned sharply to the corner in his room where the voice came from.
Only to see a ghostly silhouette of a person he hadn't expected to miss so soon.
"You don't look so good, young master." Shaman said with an old, cheeky grin.
***
"I did instruct you to not take them. At least not yet, young master. But you and your brother would rather die than let one of you surpass the other. Now you're here, sweating profusely like a poor swamp hog that's about to be a lionaire's dinner."
"You've been watching me?" Kion requested, and Shaman only laughed.
"Nothing to be worried about. It's just royal protocol. Someone has to keep track of your progress."
Kion nodded to the logic of his argument. "I see", the red-haired prince responded. "So you've just been spying on me with a crystal ball?"
"Precisely."
Kion frowned. However, he chose not to linger on this sentiment.
"So how do I make it stop?" He requested after a short while.
"Well if you had asked me that instead of stealing them from my lab we wouldn't be here would we?"
"Just tell me, wizard." Kion cut him off.
"Well, against what it may seem I—in fact—did not come here to chastise you on the dangers of using storm-pills unsupervised. Although I assume you've already seen that for yourself firsthand." Shaman said, as he gestured at Kion's now vibrating body.
"The storm-pills wouldn't be a problem. Their effect would wear off in a couple of hours so I'm afraid you're stuck like this until nightfall. Another—"
"No. I can't be stuck like this. We have to start our journey to Port Tabara this evening. We're already behind on schedule."
"A fact that I'm painfully aware of. But I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to help." Shaman said, feigning a coy look on his face.
Kion saw through his tricks.
"Spare me, wizard." He said, while rolling his eyes.
Shaman smiled. After a while of thinking, he waved his hand in a circular motion, and a unique potion appeared on Kion's bedside drawer.
"That's a detox potion. It should cleanse the lingering effects of the storm-pill quite nicely."
"I suppose I should say thank you." Kion said as he reached out to the potion, only to witness it vanish into thin air.
Shaman gave him a cautionary look. Kion rolled his eyes again.
"Thank you, wizard." He said with a heaved sigh.
"You're welcome, young master." Shaman replied with a smile, as the bottle appeared back in its rightful position.
Kion snatched it and gulped it down.
"I don't feel any different." He said after finishing everything.
Shaman stared at him with his mouth agape.
"You're not meant to finish everything in one go." He said with a soft voice after a moment of being stunned.
"Is that a problem?" Kion asked.
"Well, your insides could explode in gruesome fashion…"
Kion looked at him like a wild rabid creature about to pounce on its prey.
"Still as humourless as ever I see. Well then…" Shaman added. "Overdosing on detox shouldn't be a problem. You'll just begin to feel very drowsy any minute."
"Good I need to get to bed soon." Kion said as he put himself in a supine position and covered his sheets.
"Young master. If I may?" Shaman said. His expression had suddenly turned serious, and Kion realised that the storm-pills was not exactly what he had come for.
"Go on, wizard. What is it?" He finally asked after a short moment of contemplating what it could be that the wizard wanted to tell him.
"When you leave Styria, you would be outside my magical reach. Your journey ahead is going to be nothing short of perilous and chaotic. I need you to be strong." Shaman said, his holographic projection floating forward.
"But above all, I also need you to be honest. There are factors at play that are much bigger than what we know. If my suspicions are correct, there's more in Port Tabara going on than the Greitors."
Kion studied his words.
"This is about Lila, isn't it?" He asked.
"Magic-mancers are the rarest mancy out of any that exists. I was not even aware that there was another like me in this entire kingdom. Which is why, you cannot trust her, young master."
Kion sat back up.
"I may be practical, but I'm not foolish, wizard. Of course I don't trust her. At least not yet."
Shaman studied Kion for a moment, almost like he didn't believe him, and Kion knew why.
"I was not planning on kissing her." He explained.
"Is that so?" Shaman chided. "Does that explain the two-inch space that existed between your lips at some point?"
Kion rubbed his face in frustration. "Leave this be, wizard. Besides, nothing was going to happen. Don't make this absurd, and stop spying on me in my room. What if I'm drawing a bath or something like that."
"Wouldn't be the first time—" Shaman muttered.
"Wizard."
"Oh alright fine. I just want you to be safe. You seem to be taking on a lot more responsibility than I assumed and in doing so, are prone to more mistakes."
"You need not worry about that." Kion reassured. "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, and my brother."
"I see that you are warming up to him." Shaman commented.
"Only for the mission's sake." Kion explained. "We both normally wouldnt stand each other."
"Not after you gave him the beating of his life." Shaman added, as they bith chuckled.
For a moment, there was a only silence.
"Her magic is…different." Shaman said after a while.
"I noticed that." Kion confirmed. "It adapted to her style of fighting; to her aesthetic."
"Truth be told, we magic mancers are all different in our specialties and techniques. Magic, unlike others under the spirit-mancy category, is very bendable and adaptable.
Other souls under different categories like fire under the elementary-mancy—"
Kion yawned.
"You're lectures seem to be taking faster effect on me than this potion." He teased.
"Forgive me for trying to educate you, young master." Shaman added with a breathless laugh.
"I will have my leave now, but I have one more question." Shaman said.
"What's that?" Kion inquired.
"Do you commune with Tyril Everglade?"
Kion was about to tell him, as he would only trust Shaman with this kind of information, when a resounding message replayed in his head.
"Trust no one."
He remembered the unmistakable voice of Tyril that day on the nightmarish battlescape.
It had been the elf's first and only instruction to him back then, and now, against his understanding, he had a strong inclination to follow it.
"No." He lied through his teeth.
Shaman's eyes grew distant for a moment, like he was pondering over something.
"That's fine." He finally said with a smile. "I'll leave you to your sleep now." He said as his ghostly formed shimmered into nothingness.
Kion didn't have the time to think about the lie he just gave, as his eyes were already too heavy to ignore.
This time, sleep came by like a breeze.
"How's your new life, mortal?"
Kion opened his eyes to a familiar view, his dreamscape.
Except that the person who greeted him was not someone he was expecting, at least not so soon.