Chainslock

COMPLETED.

(WARNING: R18 on chapter 200+ onwards. This is a SLOW BURN ROMANCE. Read at your own risk.)

**

On a secluded mountain situated upon a kingdom known as Feuersturm, resides a seemingly trifling cabin with an unlikely duo as its inhabitant—a witch, and her apprentice who presumably comes from a clan sought after by slave traders. 

Faustina is a sixteen-year-old girl who fled the slave market with the help of a sickly witch named Eula, who later on trained her as an apprentice for the span of seven years. 

Plagued with a mysterious disease for several years, Eula died despite the efforts Faustina had exerted to cure her; in her last breath, she left an odd request behind. 

"Sustain the king's life. This is your duty. Do not adhere to the prophecy."

To which the odd plea shadowed a bizarre series of events, a consequential sentence; similar to that of a premonition. The same night the phrase was muttered, the chain of events followed:

A warlock's intrusion to their home, with a peculiar yearning to resurrect Eula from the dead...

and the king himself, asking for Faustina’s aid.

Sustaining the King's Life

Sheila closed her eyes, her heightened senses were swift to act. The king had used Nusquam, a simple spell from the King's Opus, written in Antiquorum—the mystical language of Elves that can only be spouted by the tongues of those "chosen ones" possessing royal blood. Of course, anyone can learn Antiquorum, given that a handful of mystical texts containing ancient verses and several academic books are written on that language alone, and is forbidden to be translated into Mystisch.


The King's Opus is a book written by Elves which is passed down to humans long before the kingdoms were founded. Origins of the said book was said to be on the Ancient City, a place in the middle of the sea separating the two continents. The Ancient City is a sacred ground inhabited by the Nephilim—half-elves.


Sheila mumbled a phrase. And then the darkness was gone, as if it never existed.


There were whispers across the room, murmurs of voices filled with puzzlement and confusion. Sheila walked towards the middle of the throne room, drawing her staff and slowly tracing a pentagram with its ruby resting on the top. She could not see anything but shadows and can only feel people's mana across the room, and there in the pentagram she traced, a strong barrier.


Orwell narrowed his eyes at the clairvoyant. He knew Sheila, a scholar under the clairvoyant program. They rarely crossed paths, but she was quite popular to be the youngest to take the masters due to her entering Magierstadt at such a young age. Orwell's gaze drifted towards Sheila's pale golden eyes, and saw how there was no life in there. She was blinded by a failed experiment, rumors say. Some also said she was attacked, or some outrageous claims saying she offered her eyes to a Warlock to be able to gain power and be accepted as the High Priestess of the king.


"Nusquam." Sheila says. "Worry not, everyone. The king only disappeared with that child to give his blessings to the seed."


"But why would he need nusquam?" Orwell asks, suspicious. "There is no need to disappear. A medium of magic is nothing but a"—Orwell stopped mid-sentence, as he felt his mother's gaze locked on him—as if telling him to stop—"nevermind."


"Good. The king might have something to discuss with… Faustina, if I may call the Lady that. Of course we need to respect what His Majesty desires to do, do we not?"


"—Then why are we summoned?" A voice from the group of Feuerlon echoed against the room. "Why are we to be called in here?"


"Oh, about that." Sheila says. "You are all gathered here for a conspiracy."


"A conspiracy of His Majesty and Faustina… of the Heilen clan."


A Certain Conspiracy