Ch. 88 “Kain”

The bed chamber of the lone villa filled with golden light as the sun rose above the horizon, marking the beginning of a new day.

In the central part of the room, the king-size bed was already empty, its guest already preparing himself for work.

Kain tied the strings on the sleeves of his white shirt, then put on the long dark coat. He never liked the togas and tunics of Aelius, despite being born here. The fashion of Adler—comfortable, practical trousers, loose shirts, and elegant jackets—suited his tastes a lot more.

The heat never bothered him anyway.

His pyromancer blood protected him from both hot and cold weather, so he was able to do whatever he wanted.

Taking one last look in the mirror, he smirked contentedly at his own reflection.

His short brown hair was neatly combed back, his square jaw was freshly shaved, and the piercing brown eyes, settled deep under his thick eyebrows, appeared as clear and sharp as ever.

Kain never thought himself vain, but he believed that presentation was everything. He discovered a long time ago that good looks made his work much easier. People were more trusting of those who presented themselves well, they lowered their guard and were much easier to convince.

His natural charisma already did most of the hard work, so grooming himself well and putting on some nice clothes didn’t take that much effort either.

Content with what he saw in the mirror, Kain finally left the room and headed downstairs.

“Were you here all night?” he asked, seeing the Magister was still at his desk, immersed in the same book as last night.

Malkar raised his droopy eyes and looked around the room. Only now he realized that the candle he had lit the previous evening was already long burned out. “Is it morning already?”

“For a few hours now.” Kain walked over to the cupboard in the Magister’s study and started preparing tea as usual. “I take it that the book proved its worth?”

He measured the proper amount of leaves and put them in the clay teapot. Then, he filled a small kettle with fresh water and, holding it in his hand, he used the summoned fire to heat it up to the proper temperature before pouring it on the leaves.

The Magister had long been used to this procedure. Sharing a morning cup of tea was a custom he and Kain had been following for many years, ever since the man became his student. “Indeed. It’s been most fascinating,” Malkar admitted, as he made a few quick notes in his journal.

Kain placed the cup before his teacher and took his usual spot on the other side of the desk. “So the rumors were true? It’s filled with ancient knowledge?”

“No. Most of it is utter nonsense.” Malkar snorted, throwing the book to the side.

“Reveus wrote his ‘grimoire of ancient knowledge’—as he called it—thousands of years after the Cataclysm. Most of this so-called knowledge is just folk tales and rumors. Even when he found a piece of promising information, his arrogance didn’t allow him to draw the correct conclusions.”

“So it was a waste of time?” Kain frowned.

Getting the book wasn’t easy. Building up the distraction took him many weeks of personally overseeing the distribution of the drug, then he also needed to prepare for the heist.

The Grand Library of Aervelis wasn’t the easiest place to target, even with his abilities. On top of that, he had to be careful not to run into that daethri with blood magic.

To hear that all of this effort was wasted on a glorified fairytale book, he felt a sudden wave of frustration in his heart.

Malkar took a sip of the tea. The flavor was perfect as always. Not too strong but not too weak either. The gentle sweetness of the leaves was clear but not overwhelming.

Throughout the years, the tea made by this student always tasted the same. Always perfectly to his tastes.

“Also no,” the Magister said, putting away his cup. He took off the spectacles and leaned back in his chair. “Even the ramblings of a fool carry a grain of truth. While most of the book is simply a waste of paper, Reveus had one good idea—he included the writing of one of Ebreza’s court healers in its original text.”

Malkar patted the journal still lying open in front of him. “I have just finished translating it.”

“What did it say?” Seeing that his teacher went silent, drifting back into his unreadable thoughts, he nudged him back to the topic.

Malkar snapped out of the whirlpool of theories and ideas his mind started weaving again. “A lot of things,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes. “Most importantly, it talked about Ažiž and her ability to pass a part of her consciousness onto her offspring. If the healer’s theory is true, then it wouldn’t stop just at the immediate children, but continue with the lineage.”

“I take it, it could be a breakthrough for your research? Do you want me to start looking for the potential descendants?” Kain asked.

He knew that his teacher had been researching immortality for a long time. This research was everything to him, so surely he was eager to test his new theories as soon as possible.

But to his surprise, Malkar shook his head. “No. No need.”

“I’m lost. I thought we’re going to need Ažiž’s kin?” Kain was taken aback.

“Oh, we do, we do,” the Magister cackled suddenly, seeing his students’ rare face of confusion. “But I don’t need you to look for one, because I already know where to find them.”

“Where?”

Malkar took another sip of the tea and unhurriedly enjoyed the taste. “In the Royal Palace,” he said finally, completely calm.

“Loukios?” Kain took a guess, then was struck with a sudden realization. “No… Lysandra.”

The teacher was visibly pleased with his student’s performance. One of the things he liked about Kain so much was that he rarely needed to explain himself. The man was able to arrive at the correct conclusion on his own in a short amount of time if he was given the correct information.

“But wouldn’t that put us against Loukios?” Kain asked.

“Loukios and Octavius,” Malkar corrected.

“Octavius is after that power, too?” Seeing so many covet the mysterious power supposedly hidden within the Princess, originally uninterested Kain started paying more attention.

“Quite the contrary,” the teacher shook his head again. “Octavius is the reason I know about it in the first place. He was the one who begged me to seal it when Lysandra was still a child.”

Malkar snorted. “That old imbecile was so afraid that his daughter would kick him off the throne in the future that he was willing to accept the Dark Ritual to make her powerless. All because he heard about some kind of ancient prophecy, and he thought it was about him.”

Even after over twenty years, Malkar still remembered vividly the fear in the Emperor’s eyes, as he came to beg for his help.

“My daughter will be my downfall,” he said, trying to appear unfazed, but the sweat on his clenched palms and fearful look spoke a different story. “You need to… no, you have to help me. The future of the Empire needs it.”

At the time, Malkar didn’t know what kind of power he was sealing away. What mattered to him the most was that he was given leverage on the most powerful man in the Empire. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

The Emperor spared no expense and effort in making the Ritual work, not hesitating to offer an entire village as a sacrifice. A significant portion of the Magister’s wealth was rooted in that event, but he would have never thought that the most valuable thing the Emperor gave him was information.

Immortality was Malkar’s obsession. He studied it for most of his prolonged life, and now he was closer than ever to achieving that.

He wouldn’t allow anyone to get in his way.

“If Loukios or Octavius dares to get in our way, don’t hesitate to kill both of them,” Malkar said. “Their usefulness was running out anyway.”