What exactly trapped Morgan inside the mind prison?
A mystery she mulled over, suspicions swirling like autumn leaves. “I’ll have to consult Master Vlad about it later. After all, mind spells are his thing,” she murmured, knowing it was the first ti she heard it.
As Burn hoisted her into the carriage, he humd a tune that might as well have been a funeral dirge for her current existential crisis. “And what of you? I would’ve thought mind spells were your forte as well.”
“Well, I’ve put so thought into it,” Morgan replied, leaning closer. “My mind processes mory with such uncanny precision that it borders on sinister. But as for my true specialty?”
She shook her head in defeat.
Burn’s voice held a touch of envy, “So, if infinity isn’t your specialty, that must an you’re still capable of boundless growth.” He paused. “And let’s not forget, you’ve decided it's high ti to take care of your physical form and delve into the world of Force Magic.”
With a teasing voice, he asked, “What prompted this sudden ambition, oh lofty madam? You suddenly looked at and decided ‘yes, today I conquer my limitations’.”
Instantly, a blush crept onto Morgan’s cheeks, transforming her usually composed deanor into a tapestry of mild embarrassnt. It was subtle, yet in that mont, she pouted, a look so captivating that even the sturdiest mountains would bow before her whimsy, and the very sky would tremble to coax her.
Honestly, when soone like her made such a face, the universe itself might reconsider its laws.
“I just… don’t want to die anymore.”
Burn halted mid-stride, cradling her in his arms. His face remained a blank slate, but his eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind those calm waters.
“I won’t let you die again,” Burn stated flatly.
Morgan let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, Caliburn, I don’t mind dying for the curse. But I an—”
She trailed off, noticing the unyielding expression on his face. The sa one he wore earlier in the buffet hall, a look that could scare away even the most intrepid of dessert enthusiasts.
“We are facing unpredictable dangers,” she reminded him. “Dying to reverse ti? It’s a small price to pay.”
“It’s not small to ,” Burn replied, his tone grave.
“Caliburn, you’re missing the point. This dying and that dying—they’re worlds apart. Right now? Right now, I don’t want to leave this world. I don’t want to leave you,” Morgan explained, injecting a blend of sincerity and helplessness. Burn's stoic facade softened, just a fraction. “Before, because of my immortality—”
“You craved death,” Burn interjected, continuing his steady pace through the academy’s corridors, each step echoing a forgotten promise. “Now I see why you wish to grow stronger.”
A woman who, having tasted immortality, now feared the fleeting monts of life. The fleeting monts she shared with him. It was a twisted irony, one that Burn might never fully understand.
Leaving the academy grounds, Burn carried her toward the carriage where Yvain had already positioned himself, flanked by an entourage of important figures: Duke Padparadscha, his wife, Headmaster Bianca, and the ever-somber Marquis Mossflower. Quite the social soiree they had going on.
“Papa, is Mama alright?” Yvain inquired, his voice a mix of concern and the innocent curiosity only children can muster. His two friends, Matthew and Alan, eyed Burn with the caution born from lingering fear.
“She’s just tired,” Burn replied, as he placed her inside the carriage, covering her with a thin blanket as if cocooning a fragile butterfly.
He then turned to engage in polite chitchat with the other parents, the ritual of social niceties that felt rather similar to a perpetual loop of tireso small talk.
After bidding his farewells, he gave Yvain a gentle nudge into the carriage, like shoving a reluctant soufflé into the oven. The boy glanced at him weirdly.
Yvain offered a respectful bow to the gathering and waved energetically at his friends—who looked equally relieved and horrified at the prospect of being alone with the rather large and brooding figure of Burn.
Once the carriage lurched forward, Yvain couldn’t help but voice his concerns again, the poor lad clearly still anxious. “Is Master Morgan okay?” he asked, his voice dripping with sincerity that would have lted even the iciest of hearts.
Morgan smiled, that enigmatic smile that wrapped around her face like a riddle. “Just another loop wrapping up,” she replied, her tone cheerfully cryptic. As if that explained everything, and nothing at all.
“You took so long. Is your soul so badly damaged again?” Yvain inquired, the edge of his voice hinting at both concern and curiosity.
Morgan held his gaze, refusing to flinch from the weight of her guilt. It wasn’t her fault that Burn had indulged himself so thoroughly; after all, so people have no regard for moderation. The man himself stared out the carriage window, leaving the sugar-coated chatter to her.
“It’s not that bad this ti,” Morgan replied softly. “I’ll just die in two or three days.”
“So… just you, then?” Yvain asked.
Morgan couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, we’ll be caught off guard, it seems.”
She rubbed Yvain’s head, gently succumbing to a daze. From this simple act, Yvain understood that the issue was far more significant than it appeared on the surface. He frowned, realizing it was ti for him to take so rather bold action.
“Masters, I think I'm going to stay after all," Yvain suddenly declared.
Morgan turned to Burn, who just glanced at them for a bit. “Yes, Yvain, you can stay.”
Yvain, knowing that they might have anticipated his decision, continued, "It’s the Vision Resonator. Sothing’s wrong, and I’ll investigate it. School's starting in two days, so I might as well dive into it. I’m afraid sothing bad will happen if I don’t do a thorough check on it before the year starts."
Morgan smiled, "The heart wants what it wants. Investigate away, just try not to get yourself killed, alright?"
Yvain nodded.
“Thank you, Master,” he said earnestly. He just wanted to be useful.
Shifting his gaze to Burn, Yvain grinned. “Master Burn, wouldn’t it be delightful if I had so backup from your delightful network of spies in Inkia?”
Burn nodded. “Use them as you please. Wilderwood will also lend a hand. In fact, why don’t you take charge of Inkia entirely?”
Yvain’s eyes widened. “Huh? You’re actually tasking with taking over Inkia?” Excitent bubbled up within him, a brief flicker of upheaval.
“Now you know how to ask for help.I’ll send you mbers of the round table, consider it a practice, a little pasti if you will, while you navigate the academy. You can do it, right?”
Yvain blinked. So, he must still prioritize his education, and conquering Inkia was a little pasti?
“We’ll handle all the threats from the world beyond. Just focus on gaining roots over the nobles. But don’t let anyone know you are the core of the operation. There’s so suspicion that soone dangerous is behind everything here,” Burn said.
Actually, letting Yvain be the focus of things would be the best course of action right now. With the boy at the helm, and him and Morgan juggling everything else, surely they could find a cozy little hideaway for him.
Who would have thought that a re twelve-year-old could be the mastermind behind conquering an entire kingdom?
"How long until you're back?" Yvain inquired, fully aware that the mythical grand assembly would take its sweet ti clearing Burn's na from the absurd charges.
"In two days," Morgan promptly replied. “Well, fixing my death might take just a day or so longer.”
Burn slipped into another reverie, trying to piece together the great puzzle in his mind. His father’s death, the enigma of Princess Shorof’s mana poisoning, Yvain’s parents' unfortunate endings, and perhaps even the untily demise of a few influential figures a couple of years ago…
That was when the carriage suddenly halted violently.
Then, the coachman yelled, “Get out of the way!” making Burn and Morgan stare at each other.
This hadn’t happened in the last loop.
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