Earth's Greatest Magus

The moonlight reflected off Emery’s eyes as he trailed the galloping figure of Queen Gwen. Riding with an urgency as if driven by a compelling force. Emery’s instincts told him to intervene, to challenge her sudden and unexpected journey. Yet, the pulsating rhythm of curiosity prevailed, and he chose to remain a discreet spectator, an unnoticed whisper against the symphony of the night.

The darkness ebbed away, and the first blush of dawn painted the horizon. The aging spires and stone walls of the old city of Lioness came into view. It was here that the queen chose to slow her horse, slipping into the city like a ghost, her silhouette blending seamlessly with the misty morning air.

Emery, cautious yet intrigued, watched from a distance as she entered one of the old, worn-down houses. Inside, an anticipated reunion took place between Queen Gwen and a familiar face to Emery – the young noble Abe Fantumar.

Their exchange was one of urgency and concern. Gwen’s voice, filled with gratitude yet underscored with a tone of desperation, echoed softly,

“Abe, I apologize for such short notice. Is everything ready?”

“Yes, My Queen, the ship will arrive at noon.”

His respect for her was evident, but so was his fear for her safety. “My queen,” he ventured, interrupting her words of appreciation, “Will you reconsider? The journey ahead is fraught with dangers. Let me summon some knights to accompany you.”

But Gwen’s resolve was unyielding. Time was of the essence, and she had a mission to fulfill. “No, Abe,” she responded with a soft yet firm finality, “the summit is in 7 days. We cannot delay.”

Abe’s face portrayed a myriad of emotions – frustration, concern, and an overwhelming sense of duty. He finally acquiesced, “Alright, please rest while I oversee the preparations.”

Their words echoed in the silence that followed, heavy with unspoken emotions and the weight of impending events. “Thank you, Abe,” the queen’s voice resonated softly, “I am counting on you.”

As the Queen settled in for some much-needed rest, Emery’s eyes trailed the young noble, Abe, who moved with a purpose. Intrigue bubbled within Emery; the air was thick with secrets, and he intended to unveil them.

Abe’s steps were hurried but measured. Emery, employing a simple spirit reading sought to glimpse into the noble’s mind. The abstract maze of thoughts, memories, and emotions could often provide insights, and Emery was adept at discerning the whispers amidst the cacophony.

However, Emery’s mental probe was interrupted. An unfamiliar presence loomed nearby. As Abe took a few more steps, a cloaked figure stepped out from the recesses of an alley. Emery’s senses heightened. The murmur of their conversation reached him, but it was the urgency of the statement that captured his attention.

“Send words that the queen is here; we must put a halt to her actions,”

Such words were all Emery needed to gauge the situation. With a swift movement, he materialized in front of them, catching both the cloaked figure and Abe off guard. The figure, sensing a threat, instinctively drew his sword, its blade gleaming menacingly in the dim light. But Emery, with merely a piercing glance, rendered the assailant immobile. The cloaked man’s sword clattered to the ground, echoing in the stillness.

Abe’s eyes widened in disbelief, unable to discern Emery’s identity due to the powerful veil of magic that shrouded him. “Who… who are you?” Abe stammered, his voice tinged with fear.

Not wanting to indulge in prolonged conversations, Emery dropped his magical facade, revealing his familiar face to the young noble. His voice, though not raised, had a resonance that carried authority and power. “What are you planning, Abe? Are you conspiring against her?”

Abe, initially paralyzed with fear, recognized Emery’s visage. Relief flooded his features, but it was short-lived. “I… I am only trying to ensure her safety. She cannot embark on this journey; it’s too dangerous,” Abe pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.

Emery’s eyes bore into Abe, his gaze unyielding. “Her choices are hers to make.”

Deciding that this encounter was best forgotten, Emery delved deep into Abe’s consciousness, weaving a spell that erased their recent interaction from his memory. As a final touch, he deftly liberated the coin pouch hanging from Abe’s belt, his fingers dancing with practiced ease. “Consider this a payment for past dues,” Emery murmured.

Returning to the old abode where Queen Gwen rested, Emery slipped in unnoticed. Watching over her, a myriad of thoughts crossed Emery’s mind.

“What should I do with you”

Lost in contemplation, Emery’s thoughts drifted toward the looming Summit. Though he initially intended to journey there alone, the idea of accompanying Gwen began to grow on him. Yet, a haunting memory of Gwen and a young boy resurfaced, causing his resolve to waver.

Drawing a deep breath, he softly whispered to the slumbering queen, “It’s best for you to remain here,? I’ll ensure Arthur remains unharmed.”

Emery made his decision, his gaze shifted to the legendary sword that lay beside the queen – Excalibur. , “Let me borrow this for a while”? he murmured, reaching out to grasp its ornate hilt.

But as his fingers made contact, a brilliant light erupted from the blade, creating a barrier against Emery’s touch. Recognizing the presence of the ancient soul dwelling within the sword, Emery invoked his [Spirit Walk], to converse with this enigmatic entity.

In an instant, the material world faded, replaced by a breathtaking vista: a lush meadow stretching to the edge of a serene sea. The gentle lapping of waves and a gentle breeze were calming. However, what caught Emery off guard was the figure that awaited him. It was Gwen, or rather, a semblance of her.

A moment of confusion passed before Emery addressed the ethereal being, “Are you Excalibur?”

The entity, wearing Gwen’s visage, responded with a voice echoing age and wisdom, “I am.” Its eyes studied Emery intently. “I know you…. You… different… Stronger”

Emery wasted no time, conveying his intention to wield the sword in upcoming battles, to which the spirit responded cryptically, “Help me… help her… help you”

Confused by this riddle, Emery prodded, “What do you imply?”

But the entity only murmured a single word, “Rome,” before Emery felt a forceful ejection from the spirit realm.

As his senses grounded him back in the physical realm, he noticed Queen Gwen’s eyelids flutter open, confusion evident in her gaze. “Who… who are you?” she whispered, her voice frail.

The spirit barrier he had cast earlier still clouded her perception. Seizing the opportunity, Emery invoked his [Shapeshifting], morphing his appearance into that of Abe. Drawing from the memory he’d extracted from the noble, he assured her, “The ship is arriving. We should get going.”