Level Up Legacy

Chapter 1212  Confessions

Lucian preferred action to waiting. Subtlety was not his strength, and he hated hesitation. Yet, his father's continued interference had forced him into a waiting game, a situation he despised. The need to find the Agard family was a burning desire, but every option seemed blocked.

His first attempt, the library, had been a predictable failure. The King was too cautious to leave the location of the imprisoned Agards so easily accessible. The restricted wing held only faint clues of ancient histories and lineages, leaving him no closer to his goal.

Frustrated, he'd turned inward, seeking help from his Seer Legacy. Surely, a glimpse of its preternatural sight could help him. But his attempts were met with silence. The visions, the whispers of the future that had always guided him, were gone. Had the Seer Guardian, ever unpredictable, abandoned him? Was this punishment for allying with Arthur Netherborne?

The thought was unwelcome and bitter. But there was no turning back now. He was bound to this path by ambition and necessity. His next target, the Yalen knights and advisors, proved just as difficult. The King, it seemed, held his people tightly with oaths and promises. No amount of persuasion or bribery could make them speak.

Finally, he had focused on the shimmering illusion blanketing the palace, hoping for a weakness he could exploit. Days turned into nights as he mapped the flow of magic, searching for a way in. Yet, the spell held firm, proof of his father's paranoia and the skill of his mages.

He returned to his chambers, exhaustion threatening to pull him under. But despair was a luxury he couldn't afford. There had to be another way, something he hadn't thought of yet.

Then, a knock on the door, and everything changed.

He found a woman inside. Not a servant or a nervous courtier, but someone who carried herself with quiet strength. Her short black hair and striking brown eyes spoke of determination, and the subtle smile on her lips was that of a seasoned player.

"Who are you?" Lucian demanded, his voice sharp, trying to hide his curiosity.

"Hazel," she replied calmly. "Princess of the Tanera Kingdom. And you, I believe, are Prince Lucian Yalen."

The name 'Tanera' was vaguely familiar. A remote kingdom, known less for its military and more for its skill in summoning magic. "Summoning?" Lucian asked, intrigued. Summoners were rare and powerful.

Hazel nodded. "Among other things. But what brings me here, Prince Lucian, has less to do with ice and snow, and more to do with… opportunities." She paused for effect. "And those," she continued, "rarely announce themselves."

"Opportunities? " Lucian echoed, his voice holding a trace of skepticism. "Perhaps you should be more specific, Princess Hazel. My time is… valuable."

Hazel inclined her head, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Understandably so, Prince Lucian. However, opportunities, like seeds, require fertile ground and careful cultivation. Trust is essential for them to blossom."

Lucian resisted the urge to scoff. Trust was a currency he dealt in sparingly. "So, your king sent you here on a mission of trust-building then?" His eyes narrowed. "Or does Tanera have a sudden interest in strengthening ties with the Yalen Kingdom?"

Hazel's smile held steady. "My king is a wise man, Prince Lucian. He sees the shifting sands of power, and it wouldn't surprise me if forming an alliance with the new crowned prince of Yalen had crossed his mind." Her voice dropped to conspiratorial tone. "Perhaps, even the prospect of… a closer alliance."

Surprise flickered in Lucian's violet eyes. Marriage as a political tool was no novelty, but this was unexpectedly bold. Before he could dissect the possibilities, Hazel's gaze met his unflinchingly.

"But let us be honest, Prince Lucian. True power rarely lies in titles or alliances alone. It lies in knowledge, in secrets… in the ability to act when others cannot."

Lucian's fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair, the cool leather grounding him. A flicker of frustration shot through him. He attempted to probe her mind, to sense some hidden agenda, but as before, his Seer Legacy was met with only silence. Hazel must have noticed the grimace that crossed his face, the subtle tightening of his jaw. She stepped closer, concern etching her brow. "Prince Lucian, is something troubling you?"

He held her gaze, the silence stretching between them. Skepticism warred with a desperate, almost reckless, hope. He took a calculated risk. "Tell me, Princess, what does your legacy demand of you?"

Every legacy came with a mission. Their gifts always had a price. He wanted to know hers, to assess the depth of her ambition.

Hazel paused, surprise crossing her features, followed by careful assessment. "My legacy desires the resurrection of a legend," she finally confessed, "Annabel, the Witch of the Icy Islands. My power remains limited… I've been unable to fulfill its demands." A note of frustration edged her voice. "Now, tell me, Your Highness, are you having difficulties with your own legacy?"

Lucian didn't want to expose too much, to reveal Arthur Netherborne as the only other person he knew who shared his burden. He needed help, needed to understand why his powers had begun to fade after his momentous confession to Arthur.

"Let's just say…" he began cautiously, "that a friend of mine entrusted me with a secret. In trying to help him, I've noticed… complications with my legacy. It no longer…responds as it once did."

He watched her carefully, searching her face for any sign of understanding. Was it possible she'd encountered something similar? Could she help him restore the balance?

A smile bloomed on Hazel's lips, tinged with both understanding and a hint of challenge. "Complications," she murmured. "A delicate way of putting it. Unfortunately, Prince Lucian, I cannot offer much help without more…" she paused delicately, "specificity. Every legacy has its own demands, its own unique… intricacies. Perhaps if you were to share yours…"

Lucian remained silent, the weight of his secret pressing heavy on his shoulders. Trust had always been a double-edged sword for him, and right then, Hazel's motives still felt too shrouded in mist. The risk of revealing his connection to Arthur Netherborne, his involvement in the Empyrean plot... it was a chasm he wasn't yet ready to leap.

"My apologies, Princess," he finally said, his voice smooth and polite. "It seems I've troubled you with matters that are, shall we say, of delicate nature. Perhaps, some other time." He offered a small, dismissive smile. "For now, my duties call. Might I ask you to excuse yourself? My chambers are… not suited for receiving guests on such short notice."

Hazel's smile held a touch of regret as she inclined her head. It seemed she understood that this opportunity to get closer to the crowned prince was, for now, lost. Turning, she made her way towards the door, her movements fluid and graceful. Just as she reached the threshold, she paused, a thoughtful tilt to her head. Without turning fully, she spoke, her voice low, "I can clearly see that you do not trust me, Prince Lucian. Yet, I wonder now… why did you choose to reveal your weakness to me?" Lucian stood motionless, the sudden question piercing his practiced indifference. His violet eyes, usually keen and calculating, now held a flicker of vulnerability. He turned his gaze to the window, the afternoon sunlight washing over his dark skin. His voice was quiet, almost introspective, when he finally answered. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Being a seer," he said slowly, the confession a stark contrast to his usual self-assurance, "made me a liar. Not to others, perhaps… but to myself. I saw glimpses of the future, warnings, and hid from what they truly meant. Everything I faced, the hardships... it was a self-inflicted blindness, a fear of speaking the truth to this 'friend' you keep hearing about. I thought that another honesty would change things. Maybe I was mistaken." Hazel remained silent, allowing the weight of his words to settle between them. Then, she surprised him with another smile, this one softer, tinged with genuine warmth. "My apologies, Prince. But from my perspective, you seem far from blind. This… introspection, it speaks of a man far more insightful than most I have met in this palace. Your eyes... they are clearer than any morning sky." With that, a soft bow, and she was gone, leaving Lucian alone with the echoes of her words, and a strange, unsettling mix of hope and uncertainty warring within him.

After Hazel left, Lucian felt confused. Why had he told a stranger so much about himself? True, she was sent by the Seven Families to get to know him. But there was a sincerity in her eyes that reminded him of his mother. His mother's gentle smile was something he rarely saw, a hint of the kindness his father tried so hard to hide.

Hazel's words stuck in his head. 'You seem far from blind... clearer than any morning sky...' Maybe it was just flattery, the sweet talk of someone trying to get on his good side. But still, her words stayed with him.

He was a seer without visions, a prince with no real power. And yet, he felt different. The weight of his silenced legacy felt lighter. There were no more whispers in his head, no tempting glimpses of the future. It was a strange kind of emptiness, a space where the Seer Guardian's controlling voice used to be.

That voice, the one that had pushed him, warped his goals, and made him see enemies everywhere, now seemed far away. It had started to fade after his showdown with Arthur, once they'd finally been honest with each other.

A small smile played on Lucian's lips. Maybe Hazel was right. He was no longer blind, not in the way she meant, but in a way that felt like freedom. The future was still uncertain, a tangled mess of schemes and plots.

He was playing a dangerous game with few allies and unpredictable powers. But as the last bit of sunlight turned the sky blood-red, a spark of defiance ignited in his eyes. This game was far from over.