‘So through these symbols and incantations, one could even conjure forth enormous pillars of flame…’ Luther had been busily absorbing all of the knowledge he could from the tomes and novels provided for him. If there was one thing he took away from all of this, was that the use of magical abilities held an incredibly important role in most worldly affairs.

It was truly regrettable that he hadn’t been provided with any new scrolls like before, where through mere touch knowledge could be granted. No, that would’ve made this all far too easy.

“These petty Runes are barbaric and insignificant…” The darkened voice within his mind bellowed out as his eyes fell upon the pages. “Once I’ve grown accustomed to the flow of magic present throughout Eres, we shall see what sort of power you’ll possess. To destroy those who deem to control you. Yes, shatter the chains and set it all ablaze!”

It seemed that with every passing moment, the voice became louder and more irregular, acting up in fits of rage whenever it saw fit.

‘That may be, but for now wouldn’t it be wiser to learn of the limitations and powers of this world… I may find myself at odds with those who live here, after all.’

“Of course,” it replied instantly, “I sense a familiar presence from within these Runes, no matter how weak they are. Like a youngling little sprout, awaiting its growth so that it may flourish forth and expand outward.”

Listening and discussing internally, Luther turned the page and brought his attention downward. His eyes gliding over the pages as he took in everything written down.

‘Kaaphite, Gypsrtz, and Dazzling Ningbeinite,’ he read, ‘Through the combination of these three sources of power, the creation of—’

“Night’s Touch.” His inner voice spoke, causing Luther to become confused for a moment.

‘You’ve heard of it?’

“But of course. Night's Touch was a very potent poison that had been heavily utilized by weaker assailants. To think that this world possessed such a concoction here... we might be able to take advantage of this.”

Luther was momentarily confused. True, it was useful for him to hold onto such an advantage for a later date, yet that wasn't the problem. No, there was only a single thought that lingered on his mind, something that caused him to feel worried deep down. ‘I thought you were darkness manifested… born and existing within that void that I woke up in.’

He deliberated on this for a few moments. For the origin of the voice to be able to encounter such experiences, that caused concern even considering it.

A moment passed before any response was heard from within his mind. A cold, calculative voice that resembled his own but darker spoke. “Darkness is all-encompassing, spread forth through the act of death itself. I have experienced countless worlds, countless lives. Through you, my Darkheart, I continue to live forever—as a true immortal.”

‘True immortal…’ Luther thought for a moment upon the meaning of the word. In his old, familiar language, the word immortal meant to live eternally. However, through this new language that he had taken into himself, the saying changed ever so slightly.

'To be eternity itself.'

He was shocked. The meanings were practically the same, but they both differed so greatly as well. A foreboding sense of concern swelled within as he contemplated further upon which of the two interpretations this voice had intended, knowing fully well that it could hear his every thought. To his surprise, though, it didn’t intervene.

As if to pull him deep out of thought, a gentle knock sounded against the wooden door that sat closed, separating Luther from the outside passage.

Shortly after knocking, the door slowly cracked open as a modest woman entered the chamber. Her head sat low in a respective position as she nearly prostrated herself before him, her hair flowing past her face as it dangled downward.

Before he could stand, she spoke out in a warm and revered tone, “Dear champion, I’ve come to aid you in both the cleaning and dressing of yourself.”

‘Cleaning myself?’ Luther was slightly bewildered at the suddenness of her arrival, but he also understood that he had important events coming soon. He had a king to meet, after all.

‘From what I’ve gathered from these stories, the kings of humanity are all foolish and arrogant. Fat and daft men blinded by fantasies and dreams.’ As he pondered, he noticed the young woman stood before him fidget ever so slightly. ‘Ah—I took too long to respond.’

“My apologies, yes, I would very much appreciate your…” he paused, forming the necessary word in his mind, smiling as he delivered it. “Assistance.”

“Why of course.” She moved toward him, taking in his figure for the first real-time since she had entered. Perhaps she was shocked by how normal he looked because she hesitated briefly before arriving at his spot.

It made sense when you considered it. She was likely expecting some type of massive brute, a grand warrior that would lead their armies and fend off the forces of Erebus all by his lonesome. Instead what she saw was an average man, if not a bit well-built for his posture.

Now that she stood close to him, cleaning up the table he had been so diligently working at, he took notice of one thing in particular.

‘Long, golden hair…’

“Hm?” She muttered out as she flinched, catching her kingdom’s chosen hero staring at her shamelessly. “You don’t seem to have collected any dirt…” was all she could get out with such a man taking in her appearance.

‘Shy, perhaps? No… something else.’

Luther turned his attention elsewhere as he rose from his seat. ‘Why does she feel odd?’

In response to his question, the dark passenger replied matter-of-factly, “There seems to be an aura of magic radiating off of this small human.”

‘Really, she possesses magic too?’ This news shocked Luther more than he’d like to admit. Truth be told, he hated how little he knew about the magical energies of this world. Was it common for even peasant servants to wield this power, or was she hiding her true intentions and masquerading herself.

From a glance, he couldn’t sense any malice in her actions, but truth be told even if she had sinister intentions, he wasn’t confident in being able to sniff them out without the aid of his dark companion.

“Whatever seems to be the problem?” She asked concernedly, leaning toward him ever-so-slightly to evaluate his condition. “You seem troubled… Ah, did I make some sort of mistake? I’m sorry, champion—”

“Nothing is wrong, excuse me,” he interrupted, waving his hand in front of her. His eyes had fallen upon an old painting that sat against the corner of the room. He had noticed it before, but hadn’t truly taken it in until now. The woman took this opportunity to sort his books together into a pile, taking care to peek upon a handful of their titles with interest.

“This painting,” he gestured, “This man has passed, yes?”

“Yes, champion,” she replied in earnest as she approached him from behind, her shoulders hung low as half of her face sat hidden behind her long hair. Pulling a few strands away from her eyes, she continued, “This painting is a depiction of the previous king, his majesty King Armand, the third of his house to hold the throne and first of his name.”

“King Armand,” Luther thought upon the name as if trying to recall anything from the stories he had just read. “So now there sits another on the throne… a son, perhaps?”

“Indeed so, my lord,” she nodded, pulling herself up next to him as her eyes fell upon the intrinsic art. King Armand, a man of power and dignity, or so he appeared. “Having unfortunately passed away in his sleep, his son—King Leander—took the throne. Oh my, I couldn't even tell you how many years ago that was.”

‘So the current king was the son of this Armand figure… I’m growing more and more curious as to what sort of being he is,’ Luther contemplated silently, growing ever more interested in the prospect of meeting the king.

As he continued to look over the painting, the young woman behind him moved away as if heading toward a small cabinet sat within the corner of the room. She pulled open the drawer and lifted out a fine linen coat and undercoat, both gentle in design without neglecting any sort of sophistication one would expect.

“I do hope these will be up to your standards,” she said, bringing them toward the table as she sat them gently down. “It is fortunate that we had several suits prepared beforehand… especially one that would fit your form.”

As she spoke, Luther turned around and walked in the woman’s direction, stopping in front of the table. He looked down at his soon to be outfit with a satisfying expression. Prior, a worry had flashed through his mind regarding what sort of comfort that this worlds’ clothing and linens would provide him, but it seemed to be a moot point now.

Until now he had worn whatever he had on from the summoning, as if tailor-made out of convenience through magic. Whether something that old sage, Aldor, had done or not was up for debate.

“Please remove your current garments,” she requested, turning to adjust the lining of his soon to be new suit.

Taking to her request, he effortlessly lifted his shirt over his head and off, quickly replacing it with his new one with her assistance. He repeated the process with the rest of the kit, soon appearing far more extravagant than he had before.

‘Perhaps a bit too… busy,’ Luther commented internally as his eyes scrolled across his wrist.

As he was finishing preparing, another knock came from the wooden door, only this time it was far louder than before. Without waiting for a response from those within the room, a face protruded through the gap, peeking inside.

“Hm…” Luther murmured aloud as he witnessed this, trying to recall the young man’s face from memory. ‘Ah, the sorcerer. Seems he’s taken down his hood from last time.’

“Is everything ready?” The young mage asked, pushing the door further as he stepped into the chamber. His eyes wandered through the room for a moment before quickly arriving upon the two inhabitants. “Those garments look rather respectable, as expected of the servants of the castle.”

With a firm nod of approval, he turned his attention to the young woman stood to Luther’s side. “Ah!” He shot out, before pausing and quieting down once more. “Is… is everything ready? The courts have been gathered and his majesty awaits.”

“Oh, my dear champion,” the woman said as she approached Luther’s front, “It was truly a pleasure meeting you. I know you will do wonderful things for our humble little nation.”

With a final farewell, she turned her attention toward the youthful mage as she spoke, her voice changing in tone as her face lifted upward, revealing her keen eyes from beneath her hair. “He’s all yours now. Inform my father of my wishes, as well.”

‘Father?’ Luther listened, confusion sinking into his mind momentarily before realization hit him like a hefty brick. ‘King Leander’s only daughter! Of course, I read about her earlier… a stout woman with golden hair just like her father. Resolute and loyal to the throne, a woman who wishes to climb the ladder of knighthood.'

Knowing this, it was truly regrettable then that very little beyond that had ever been recorded down in history regarding her or her father. This gap of knowledge left Luther with only a vague understanding of their family and the kingdom as a whole.

“So… you must be Princess Stella, first of your name and second heiress to the throne.”

She turned to face him as a grin formed on her lips. “I knew that you had read about me,” she claimed, “I was wondering when you’d figure it out. Hmph, with the way you were staring at me, I thought you had noticed immediately.”

“Unfortunately not,” Luther replied with an apologetic smile, “I was more taken aback by your beauty. It seemed odd that a maidservant would be as well kept as you, but now it makes sense.”

“So I did manage to pull one over on you,” she chimed with glee, expressing a favorable grin his way. “Please forgive my behavior. Regardless of my position or rank, you are still our kingdom's champion… I simply wished to see what sort of man you were before my father could.”

“And now? Are you disappointed?” Luther replied as his brow lifted slightly, moving his hand to adjust his collar.

Princess Stella only smiled in response as she turned away toward the door, waving her hand into the air as she left. With this, only Luther and the young mage remained within the room.

“Ah—” the mage uttered out as he finally regained his thoughts. “Forgive me for drifting off, my lord. I would be honored to escort you through the castle and into the palace chambers. A gathering has already gone underway, from what I've heard. His excellency, King Leander wishes to meet you himself... such an enormous honor.”

“Very well,” Luther countered, “Please, lead the way.”