Chapter 131: Chapter 124: The Tower of Stars (Part 1A)

Finally, Prince Cassian said to Lucien’s.

"I believe that’s our cue."

Lucien followed the prince’s gaze.

The royal guard stood waiting near the garden entrance.

The soldier approached before bowing respectfully.

"Lord Lucien."

"The Royal Guardian is prepared to receive you."

Just a simple statement yet somehow it carried more weight than anything spoken during the royal audience.

Cassian smiled faintly.

"Good luck."

Lucien glanced toward him.

"Should I need it?"

The prince laughed.

"If my grandfather wanted to harm you, luck certainly wouldn’t help."

A fair point.(Aurethar laughing in corner)

Cassian’s expression became slightly more serious afterward.

"Just listen carefully."

"He doesn’t waste words."

"And when he decides to explain something..."

The prince shook his head.

"...it’s usually important."

Lucien nodded once.

Then turned toward the waiting guard.

The royal guard walked ahead without speaking.

His footsteps echoed softly through the ancient corridors while Lucien followed several paces behind.

The lively atmosphere of the royal palace gradually disappeared around them.

No servants hurried through the halls.

No nobles whispered behind decorated pillars.

And no attendants rushed to fulfill royal duties.

Silence ruled these upper sections of the palace.

The deeper they traveled, the older everything became.

First golden decorations vanished.

Then expensive tapestries disappeared.

And after it even the architecture itself changed.

The polished marble used throughout the royal palace gave way to ancient gray stone.

The walls became thicker and corridors narrower.

Everything felt older.

Lucien occasionally noticed runes carved directly into the stonework.

At first they appeared scattered and insignificant.

But as they continued climbing, their number increased dramatically.

Entire walls became covered in magical inscriptions.

Some glowed faintly.

Others remained dormant.

Yet all of them possessed a complexity that far surpassed ordinary enchantments.

Lucien slowed slightly.

His eyes traced several runic formations.

Protection runes,Mana stabilization,Spatial reinforcement,Defensive barriers.

Some inscriptions seemed were familiar.

While others seemed entirely alien.

The sheer scale of the magical engineering impressed him.

This wasn’t merely a building.

It was an artifact.

An enormous magical construct disguised as a tower.

The guard seemed to notice his interest.

Without turning around, he spoke.

"The Tower of Stars predates Asterion."

His voice carried quiet respect.

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

The guard continued.

"It predates House Vaelthron."

"Predates the capital."

"And predates nearly every kingdom currently standing."

That was... unexpected.

Lucien glanced toward the ancient stone walls once more.

Now that he paid closer attention, signs of immense age became easier to notice.

Some sections of stone had clearly been repaired countless times.

Certain runes appeared so ancient that their original creators were probably long forgotten.

Even the mana itself felt old.

Like an ancient tree whose roots extended deep beneath the earth.

The climb continued.

Flight after flight of stairs stretched upward.

Several times Lucien expected them to arrive at their destination.

Several times he was wrong.

Eventually even he began wondering how tall the tower truly was.

The answer revealed itself when they reached a narrow balcony.

For the first time since entering the tower, the guard paused.

The balcony overlooked the entire capital.

Lucien stepped forward.

The sight before him was impressive.

The city stretched endlessly beneath the winter night.

Thousands of lights illuminated streets and districts.

Snow covered rooftops.

Frozen rivers reflected moonlight.

In the distance, enormous walls surrounded the capital like a stone ocean.

From this height, the city resembled a living map.

Every distric,Every road,Every fortress.

Visible.

For several moments Lucien simply observed.

Then he noticed something else.

The tower stood higher than every other structure in the capital.

Even the royal palace itself appeared small from here.

Interesting.

The location was strategically perfect.

A mage stationed here could observe almost the entire city.

The guard resumed walking.

"The Guardian prefers the view."

Lucien followed once more.

Several minutes later they finally reached the summit.

Unlike the rest of the tower, the final corridor was surprisingly simple.

No glowing runes.

No magical displays.

And certainly no elaborate decorations.

At its end stood a single wooden door.

Ordinary,plain and just like everything around it almost disappointingly normal.

The guard stopped.

Then bowed respectfully.

"The Guardian awaits."

Lucien nodded.

The guard stepped aside.

For a moment silence lingered.

Then Lucien opened the door.

Warm air greeted him immediately.

The room beyond felt completely different from the ancient tower surrounding it.

Comfortable,Lived in and something humane.

Bookshelves covered every wall.

Thousands upon thousands of books filled the chamber.

Maps occupied several tables.

Stacks of scrolls rested beside overflowing shelves.

A fireplace crackled softly near the center of the room.

And seated comfortably beside it sat an old man reading.

No floating magical circles or overwhelming aura.

No impossible displays of power.

Just an elderly scholar reading beside a fire.

The old man looked up.

Bright eyes met Lucien’s.

Then a gentle smile appeared.

"Come in."

His voice sounded warm.

Welcoming.

Like a grandfather greeting family.

Lucien entered.

The door quietly closed behind him.

The old man placed a bookmark inside his book.

Then set it aside.

"Sit."

A chair stood opposite him.

Lucien took the offered seat.

The Guardian observed him quietly.

His gaze wasn’t invasive.

Merely curious.

For several moments neither spoke.

Then the old mage chuckled softly.

"You expected something more dramatic."

Lucien answered honestly.

"Perhaps."

The old man laughed.

A genuine laugh.

And maybe someone different."

Lucien answered honestly.

"Yes."

The old man chuckled.

"Most do."

He gestured toward the shelves surrounding them.

"People hear stories."

"They imagine monsters."

"Wizards tend to become much less impressive once they reach old age."

His eyes twinkled slightly.

"We mostly become collectors of books."

Lucien suspected that was a lie.

A very large lie.

But he allowed it to pass.

"Most people do."

His eyes sparkled.

"They expect lightning."

"Doomsday prophecies."

"Ancient magical spectacles."

He waved dismissively.

"Old age eventually teaches people that comfort is superior to theatrics."

As if to immediately contradict himself, a teapot floated through the air.

Two cups followed.

Tea poured itself.

The old mage accepted one.

Then smiled.

"Though I admit some theatrics remain enjoyable."

Lucien accepted the offered cup.

The tea smelled surprisingly pleasant.

A faint herbal aroma drifted upward.

The Guardian took a sip.

Then sighed contentedly.

"Wonderful."

For a few moments he simply enjoyed the tea.

The atmosphere remained relaxed and comfortable.

Nothing about the situation felt like a meeting between a legendary mage and one of the kingdom’s most influential lords.

Instead it felt like a conversation between two scholars.

Eventually the old mage lowered his cup.

"I imagine Prince Cassian explained why I requested this meeting."

"He did."

The Guardian nodded.

"And?"

Lucien met his gaze.

"He said you might have answers."

The old mage smiled.

"Smart boy."

His expression softened slightly. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"Cassian, I mean."

Lucien almost smiled.

Almost.

The Guardian noticed.

"Good."

His smile widened.

"You aren’t completely made of steel."

That earned no response.

Which somehow seemed to amuse the old mage even more.

Eventually his expression became thoughtful.

Then serious.

"The prince is correct."

The Guardian folded his hands.

"You seek answers."

His gaze sharpened.

"And I possess some."

The room grew quieter.

Outside the tower, snow continued falling.

Inside, only the fire crackled softly.

The old mage rose from his chair.

Slowly without any hurry.

Then walked toward a massive map hanging across one wall.

It depicted the known continent.

Lucien immediately recognized Asterion.

Several neighboring kingdoms.

Mountain ranges.

Forests.

And lastly the oceans.

Yet the map also contained territories he had never seen before.

Entire regions lay beyond the areas described in ordinary books.

The continent was larger than most people realized.

Much larger actually.

The Guardian rested one hand against the map.

Then asked a simple question.

"What do you know about the Great Tear?"

Lucien considered briefly.

Then answered honestly.

"Nothing."

The old mage smiled.

A genuinely pleased smile.

"Excellent."

That response was unexpected.

The Guardian chuckled.

"Most people arrive carrying a dozen incorrect assumptions."

His eyes gleamed with amusement.

"You arrive carrying none."

He nodded approvingly.

"That makes my job considerably easier."

The old mage’s expression gradually became more distant and reflective.

For the first time since entering the room, his age became visible.

Like a man carrying centuries of memories.

He stared at the map.

Then spoke quietly.

"The Great Tear is not merely a portal."

The room fell silent.

"It is not a gate and certainly not an artifact."

His finger touched a region near the center of the continent.

Then moved slowly across the map.

"It is a wound."

The word lingered.

The Guardian’s voice softened.

"A wound between worlds, one that connects them ."

Lucien remained silent.

The old mage continued.

" And every thousand years..."

His gaze moved toward the distant horizon beyond the tower windows.

"...that wound re-opens."

The fire crackled softly.

The room seemed colder somehow.

The Guardian slowly turned back toward Lucien.

Then said:

"And when it opens..."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"...the demons return."

"And with them returns the horrors that even history itself doesn’t wish to acknowledge"