Rune of Immortality

Jacob whispered the title on the cover, reverently, as though speaking it aloud might break some hidden enchantment. "My Thoughts on Immortality," he murmured, each word lingering on his tongue with wonder.

There was something ethereal about the phrase it held promise and mystery, like the key to a long-forgotten secret or the answer to a question no one dared to ask. But then, his gaze drifted lower, and his breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on the name etched just beneath the title.

His hands trembled. He nearly dropped the book.

"Akashic," Jacob breathed, stunned. "The Akashic? The first king... the greatest mage and scholar in history? The man who killed a god?"

Samuel looked up from his seat, the corners of his lips tugged into a knowing smile. He gave a quiet nod, calm as ever, as though the book in Jacob's hands were merely another dusty tome and not a relic tied to legend.

Jacob's eyes shone with the force of his excitement, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. "Lucas is going to love this," he blurted, then immediately straightened his back and bowed low, his voice trembling with heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you, Your Highness."

It wasn't just politeness, his happiness was genuine. After all, since he was the one delivering the gift to Lucas, it meant he could read it first, and nothing thrilled him more than getting first access to something this rare, this significant.

Samuel waved his hand in a lazy gesture of dismissal, giving Jacob silent permission to leave. Jacob turned toward the massive doors with every intention of dashing off, but then paused, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he glanced over his shoulder.

"I… don't actually know the way back," he admitted, his voice carrying a nervous chuckle.

Samuel leaned toward the servant nearby and whispered something inaudible. The man nodded and silently approached Jacob, then motioned for him to follow. Without hesitation, Jacob hurried after him, barely able to keep still as anticipation buzzed beneath his skin.

They passed through long marble corridors and sunlit halls until the familiar scent of the gardens met Jacob's nose. He muttered a quick thanks to the servant before sprinting across the lawn, his feet pounding against the path as he beelined for the white-stone gazebo at the garden's heart.

He arrived, book clutched tightly in both hands, only to be caught in a headlock by Castor, who grinned and pulled him close. "So? What did my amazing, brilliant brother give you?"

Jacob didn't even have time to answer.

"Can't you see, or are you just blind?" Elly cut in, crossing her arms as she stared pointedly at the book in Jacob's hands. "There's a book. Obviously."

Castor blinked, looking down at the leather-bound object, then scratched his head and gave a sheepish smile. "I guess I got a little too excited…"

But then his eyes widened, and his expression twisted into mock outrage. "Wait a second! Did you just talk to royalty like that? You're lucky I'm so generous! I've clearly been too nice to you."

"Idiot," Elly said without even looking at him.

Jacob collapsed to the grass, laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. Castor, defeated, gave a dramatic sigh and slouched back toward the table. He returned with a mountain of food in his arms and began stuffing his face, muttering through mouthfuls, "Ungrateful friends… treating a prince like this… I've been too kind…"

His theatrical grumbling only made Jacob laugh harder. Even Elly couldn't resist, and soon the sound of their laughter echoed throughout the gardens like birdsong.

Eventually, Elly leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "Alright, alright jokes aside. What's the book?"

Grinning, Jacob held the book up proudly. Elly stepped closer to read the title and then froze.

"Akashic?" she whispered, and then repeated it, louder this time. "Wait, like the Akashic?"

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The reaction was instant. Castor stumbled back from his seat and fell flat on the ground with a loud thud. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief, and ran toward Jacob, nearly knocking him over.

"Seriously? Samuel gave Lucas a book written by Akashic? Isn't that way too much?"

It was a fair question.

In this era, Akashic wasn't just a historical figure he was a legend made flesh, the founding king of the Eterna Kingdom, a slayer of gods, the greatest mage to ever live. His achievements were spoken of with awe in every tavern, every school, every story whispered to children at bedtime. Even in the slums, kids who'd never seen a book in their lives knew his name.

"It's not too much," Jacob said proudly, lifting his chin with a smug little smile. "Lucas is amazing. This is the least Samuel could give."

Castor gave him a look. "Alright, alright, Lucas' number one fan. We get it."

Jacob didn't even try to deny the title. He wore it like armor.

Lucas was everything he wasn't. Confident, talented, beloved. He was the kind of person who could walk into a room and make everyone feel welcome, who always had the right words and the right smile, who made friends effortlessly. And Jacob? Jacob was quiet by nature, the kind of boy who preferred silence, who liked being alone or with just one or two close friends. But one day, he'd asked himself, if he acted like Lucas, could he become like him?

He'd begun to smile more, wave at people, make jokes he didn't really feel. And slowly, things changed. People started to like him. They talked to him. Some even gave him gifts. It was exhausting at times, but the attention… the love… it felt good.

The three of them sat and joked and laughed until the sun dipped low, casting golden light across the garden. Elly glanced up at the sky and sighed.

"It's getting late. Jacob and I should head back."

Jacob looked up and nodded. Castor rose with them, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "I'll walk you two out," he said with a grin, nudging Jacob. "Since someone still gets lost in the palace."

Jacob rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.

Together, they walked back through the winding palace corridors until they reached the massive front gates. Jacob turned back as he stepped onto the path, waving. "Goodbye!"

"See you soon," Castor called back, his voice echoing faintly.

Belemir was waiting by the carriage, and he opened the door with a quiet nod. Jacob climbed in and sat down, still clutching the book. As the wheels began to turn and the palace faded from view, Belemir asked, "How was your visit?"

"It was… really, really fun," Jacob replied, unable to hide the joy in his voice.

Belemir gave a soft smile, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep. Jacob waited a moment, then opened the book and began to read.

Five minutes later, he shut it with a frown.

It wasn't what he expected.

The book wasn't a story or a memoir, it was a dense, sprawling compilation of theories, diagrams, fragments of research notes, and speculative essays. All of it centered around one goal: immortality. It spoke of biological manipulation, soul preservation, resurrection through rune sequences, and invincibility via body modification. The words were complicated, interwoven with unfamiliar jargon and references Jacob didn't recognize.

Still, he kept reading.

In this world, high-level knights and sorcerers could live for hundreds of years. Some reached eight hundred, even a thousand. Lazarus, the oldest living scholar, was said to be nearing nine centuries. But that wasn't enough for Akashic.

He wanted to live forever.

He envisioned a body that wouldn't age, wouldn't decay, wouldn't succumb to disease or blades or curses. An unkillable vessel for his consciousness, a perfect form.

Jacob didn't understand most of it, but he understood the intent. Akashic had spent centuries on this research, and by the final pages… he had failed. His last notes, written as he approached his thousandth year, were filled with frustration and despair. His handwriting shook. His sentences were bitter, desperate. He had run out of time.

And Jacob, foolish and hopeful, had a thought.

"What if… I could do it?"

It was absurd, of course. A boy like him, thinking he could succeed where Akashic had failed. But maybe, just maybe, if Lucas helped him, if they built on what Akashic left behind they wouldn't be starting from zero.

And if they succeeded, maybe then… maybe then his father would let him become a scholar. Maybe then, his worth wouldn't be tied to a sword.

The more Jacob thought about it, the more determined he became.

He would find a way to finish what Akashic started.

By the time they arrived at the estate, Jacob was practically vibrating with excitement. He leapt from the carriage and ran straight to his room without greeting anyone, slamming the door shut behind him. He dove into bed, pulled the covers over himself, and turned on his rune lamp.

The book was hard, impossibly hard but he couldn't stop reading. It didn't matter that he only understood fragments. The knowledge was there, waiting for someone to uncover it.

And he wanted to be that person.

So when Lucas creaked open the door, poking his head into the room with a sly expression, Jacob didn't even notice.

Lucas tiptoed closer, a wicked grin forming on his face. He leaned down beside the bed and suddenly shouted in the deepest voice he could muster, "JAAAACOOOOB!"

Jacob screamed and fell off the bed, his heart hammering against his ribs as he scrambled to his feet. And there was Lucas, grinning like a lunatic.

"And you say you don't want to be a scholar," he teased, holding up the book. "Then what's this?"

Jacob gave a sheepish smile. "It's… a gift. From Prince Samuel. For you."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "If it's for me, why don't I have it yet?"

Jacob shrugged. "I wanted to read it first."

"Bastard," Lucas muttered with a laugh, then tackled him onto the bed and unleashed a tickling assault Jacob would never forget.