Tale of Four

Tristan held his hand out, trying to reach for the arcane power inside of him. After numerous attempts over the week with Annabell’s little guidance and the book’s support, he finally got a rough idea of what he was trying to do. It was very similar to how he summoned Annabell, with a minor difference. When summoning, it came as naturally as walking. He still had to manipulate the power in his blood as a connection, but it was rather simple.

’The Arcane is done by manipulating the Arcane power in the soul. It is the same basic principle, but it makes no sense when actually doing it. After all, what even is the soul?’

Tristan furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. Looking at his outstretched hand, he saw the veins on the back of his palm and tilted his head. Staring at them for a moment, he thought back to his meeting with Elder Maxwell.

’Wolfram was a genius. Not only because he understood the Arcane but because of his blood. Why am I trying to do it the way the Magi do? I’m not one, nor will I ever be. Cosmaton power has always come from their blood.’

The thought process changed. His blood was the connection to the immaterial and, by extension, the Arcane. It was so clear how he should have proceeded, and because of it, it didn’t register until now. Thinking clearly about how he summoned Annabell, he tried to change it slightly. He didn’t truly understand what it was but more how it felt. It was like reaching into a bag and pulling the same thing out every time, without looking, becuase he knew where it was. If he was right, it would be a matter of reaching around and avoiding her.

’A small flame at the tip of my fingers. That’s all I want.’

With a clear thought in mind of what he wished to do, Tristan focused on the feeling of summoning. The connection to Annabell was instant in the immaterial, and before she was summoned, he cut that connection and tried to find soemthing else. Without connecting to anything, there was no feeling, but after a minute Tristan felt it. The link to his blood found something. And it was vast, incredible so.

He didn’t hesitate and created the connection. With the thought of a flame at his fingertips, being the sole thought in his mind, he brought the power in. There was no change he could feel in his body. It wasn’t like when merging with Annabell and being flooded with her presence; rather, there was nothing. That lack of feeling lasted for another minute before it reached soemthing within him.

Tristain instinctively knew what it was: his soul, and with it his blood connected to the already preexisting Arcnae power in his soul, using the power from the immaterial as a guide, cutting the connection to it. The lack of feeling was replaced by a feeling of being filled with water. Tristan quickly latched on and began the final step of manipulating the Arcnae.

Like when he manipulated Annabell’s power when they merged, he directed it towards his hand and waited. After ten seconds and nothing occurred, he realised he had missed a step. ’No, this is different. When Annabell and I merge, it’s two minds in one. She is the one who does all the things necessary to let me use her power whilst I just point. I need to guide it correctly.’

With a new thought, he created a path from his mind to the power. Even if he was using the power in his own soul, the real thing manipulating the arcnae was his blood. It was inherently different.

’I need to form the connections myself.’

Manipulating the power, he tried to connect his mind to his hand. It was simple, soemthing he had done before when he focused Annabelle’s power in his eyes. Slowly the two connected, and still with the sole thought of producing a flame, the link was established between his mind and hand. The moment it was, he felt the power in his soul stir, as if a part had leaked out and, with it, on the tip of his finger, a small flame the size of a candle formed.

His lips twitched, slowly forming a smile, and when he closed his fist, cutting the power, he looked to the ceiling. "YES!" Falling backwards on the bed, he screamed out in joy, laughing to himself at his success. "FINALLY!" It was so simple now that he had done it, that the days agonising over it seemed meaningless.

Summoning Annabell, the white dove formed from white smoke and flew around, landing atop the cupboard. Looking at Tristan, she tilted her head. "I did it." Annabell flapped her wings in support, flying down and landing next to him. Pecking his cheek tristan laughed and stroked her.

"You’re quite talented if you did it already." Annabell praised, making Tristan shake his head.

"I cheated. If I did it how the Magi do it, it would have taken me far longer."

"Just accept the praise, Tristan." Annabell moaned, peeking at his cheek a final time. "Even if you cheated, it still is quite good how quickly you learnt." Stoking her a final time, a knock on the door interrupted the joyful mood.

"Enter." A servant pulled open the door and bowed towards Tristan.

"The Prince Regent summons you to the throne room." The servant pulled a letter out of his pocket. "Also, a message from the Wells territory." His bad mood at having to see Elias quickly evaporated upon hearing that Edmund had sent him back a letter. Jumping up, he saw the seal on the letter had been broken but said nothing, quickly opening it. Making his way to the throne room, he began reading.

’I got in trouble, Tristan. Mother is mad.’

Tristan chuckled and slowly read what Edmund had done.

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"You stupid boy." Mary paced back and forth, looking down at Edmund as he knelt on the ground. "All you had to do was wait, and look what you did."

"Princess, do not be too hard on him." A voice called out from beside Edmund, coming from a plump lady, the same age as Edmund, holding her stomach. She had black hair, and although heavier than most ladies her age, yet refined in movement, and her voice easy on the ears.

"My dear." Mary’s eyes softened seeing her soon-to-be daughter-in-law and quickly hugged Diana, being careful with her stomach. "I told you to call me mother already." Mary sighed and shook her head. "My anger is not directed at what he has done. Lord knows I am ecstatic at having a grandchild." Mary’s head snapped towards Edmund, her gaze sharp. "What I am mad about is the timing. You are yet wed. Did you not think of her reputation? God forbid, Edmund, what if soemthing happened to you? I would love the child, but he wouldn’t carry your name."

"We are going to marry soon enough." Edmund protested, "Tell me honestly, mother, did you and father..."

"Do not ask your mother about such a thing." Snapping her fan on her hand, she stopped Edmund before he could carry on, "I know I raised you so you would take responsibility for your foolishness, but you risk tarnishing your betrothed reputation with this. Luckily, the marriage will occur before any child is born."

"Prin...Mother." Diana stepped foward. Resting her hand atop Mary’s, she smiled. Her other hand unconsciously rubbed her stomach, the wide grin on her face telling of how she didn’t care about any stain on her reputation the pregnancy may cause. "It’s not Edmund’s fault alone. He didn’t force me."

Mary sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was strange seeing her like that to Edmund, his mother, even in private, making sure to keep a dignified appearance. Now she was just a tired woman who had to deal with two people’s foolishness. "Diana, please do not defend my son for his actions. I know he would never force you, but he is still a man and must understand restraint. Gosh." Stepping away, she continued to pace back and forth, "Who do you take after? Your father never was like this, nor I."

"Mother," Edmund smirked, but quickly wiped it off his face at Mary’s glare. "Can’t you just be happy? You’re going to be a grandmother."

"It must be the influence of the Clover twins." Mary said to herself, "They have let every young lord and lady believe such relations before marriage are acceptable." Sighing, she gave up on her anger, accepting reality. "Truly you are a child of these lands." Taking a seat on a nearby chair, she opened her fan and covered her face. Edmund could tell she was hiding her happy smile at the thought of a grandchild, but needed to keep an appearance of anger. "Diana, until the child is born, Edmund belongs to you. Anything you want, you make him do. Should he not do soemthing without good reason." Her eyes narrowed, looking at Edmund. "You tell me, and I will correct the foolish boy."

Diana warmly smiled but didn’t fight it. Looking to Edmund, she could see he didn’t really care about the punishment, already believing he was going to do it anyway.

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Staring at the letter after finishing, Trstan burst into laughter and couldn’t help but smile. He knew Edmund was excited for his marriage, but knowing he had got her pregnant before the wedding surprised him. Shaking his head, he let out another low chuckle. It dawned on him that the shy boy who wandered the halls of the Palace was really fake. Of course, Edmund was shy in the palace, but free from it, he was a different person, much like the other young men of the Flatlands, living by his own desires.

"What an idiot." Although he said that, he couldn’t help but carefully pocket the letter, wishing to read it later to give himself a laugh. Stopping before the double doors to the throne room, Tristan calmed himself and wiped the smile from his face. As they opened, he saw Elias sat atop the throne, along with the council. Before him, a thin man with hair like obsidian stood. He held himself straight and in his left hand a book, tucked next to his hip. On his right side, an ornate sword of gold.

Turning, Tristan looked at the man. He wore thin silver glasses, pushing them up with a white-gloved hand. He wore a deep black robe; on the back of it, a golden scale sewn in. Tristan took a sharp breath. He may have never seen the man before in his life, but he knew of only one person who would wear such a robe.

Walking foward he bowed towards Elias first, "I greet the Prince Regent." Turning, he looked at the man in black, "I greet the Lord Invigilator."

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