NOVEL NEXT Chapter 83: Fourth In Line To The Throne
All eyes turned toward the approaching royal. This was it. I knew they'd discussed enough, and he was here to take Astraya and begin mentoring her. But seeing him approach was intimidating.
Lord Zedd Vintergard finally reached us, his attire gleaming under the evening sun. He stopped just a few feet from Astraya, his boots stirring faint currents of air with every step. Father, Ghost, and Rose stood right beside him.
Father stood next to us, holding Astraya. "My little girl, you look good as new," he chuckled. (Didn't Dad know that was a reference used for materials rather than daughters? Sigh.)
"Kids, this is Lord Zedd Vintergard of Aetherhall fourth in line to the throne of the Aetherhall Kingdom," Father announced. "This is my son, Astraga Fula."
I nodded in courtesy.
"And this is my daughter, Astraya Fula, the one you've obviously tested today and heard much about from Ghost."
Ghost smiled, waving, being the more free-spirited individual he always was.
(Wow, really? No wonder he looked so snobbish but elegant. Fourth, huh? I wonder what the third and rest looked or acted like. Would that mean they were more powerful than him?) My inner mumbling was cut short as he was ready to speak.
When he spoke, his tone was even almost gentle but there was absolutely no warmth in it.
"You must be very tired, young lady," he said, looking down at Astraya.
"No worries, Lord Zedd. Thanks to your healers, I was able to recover," Astraya replied, showing extreme courtesy.
Wow, was this still the same Astraya? I was shocked.
"Oh, those three? They aren't even the best Aetherhall has to offer, but they'll do," Lord Zedd muttered.
Man, this man really had a way of talking down to people that just grated on my nerves. Maybe he was being honest, or maybe it was true, but it still just pissed me off.
Lord Zedd looked toward my hands and simply said, "A fish."
"Yeah, I know. Seems fishy," Ghost smirked. "That's his pet."
"I know that," Lord Zedd replied, turning back to Astraya and Father. "Your father told me you've shown great knowledge in mana, especially White Mana. Is this true?"
(What did he mean, 'is this true?' Was he blind, or something? Lord Dumbass, she is good! You saw for yourself, even though she got smoked. She's four, what did he expect?)
Astraya replied, "My mother taught me the best she knew. I only just improved from what I have learned," she said, courteous as ever.
"I see," Lord Zedd said. "But... if I'm being honest, I don't see a prodigy in front of me."
Astraya could only look on, and I could tell his words hurt her. Father placed his hands on her shoulders to comfort her. If Father wasn't going to talk back, I was.
"What do you know about—" I started, but my voice simply wouldn't come out. Ghost shook his head, his eyes glowing white, his finger pressed to his lips—a clear sign to silence me.
Lord Zedd smirked. "I presume what you wanted to say was: What do I know about prodigies? The fourth in line to be King of Aetherhall?"
(Yeah, what did you know? My sister actually is a prodigy!) All these thoughts raged in my mind, but my mouth was truly unable to talk.
Lord Zedd didn't pause for Astraya's reaction. He looked past her, addressing the men around him as if to prove his prestige.
"The current King of Aetherhall was able to master flight by the age of three—that's prodigy."
"Coravin Damsgaard of our kingdom—"
The men around him immediately echoed the name with reverence: "Coravin!"
Feeling every bit the superior warrior.
Lord Zedd continued,
"was able to lift the entire kingdom of Aetherhall into the sky, crowning us the Sky Kingdom, at the age of twelve. That is prodigy."
A whole kingdom carried by one person?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible. My brain refused it.
He caught the disbelief in my eyes, glanced at Ghost, then returned his gaze to us.
"And Ghost here," he went on, voice casual as though discussing the weather,
"converted his entire physical being into pure air without destroying his organs — and did so by fifteen. That is prodigy."
He looked back at Astraya. Cold. Measured. Cutting without effort.
"This?" he gestured toward her, "Your daughter. Your sister," he corrected, glancing toward me,
"she is not a prodigy."
Astraya's breath hitched. My jaw clenched.
"You're simply a fast learner a very fast learner," he continued, tone softening, though the softness somehow made it feel heavier. "Just like I was. Aren't you, Astraya?"
Was… was he trying to encourage her?
My voice came back for a second just to abandon me again out of sheer disbelief.
"You're not on that level," he said matter-of-factly, softer again, almost… sympathetic? "And that's fine. Do not crumble under expectations placed by others. I faced the same pressure."
Then, like someone whose mouth didn't come with instructions, he ruined it:
"Do not let my words determine your future either; they are merely honest evaluation. That is all."
Honest evaluation? This man's honesty came with no brakes installed.
There was honesty… and then there was emotional demolition without anesthesia.
"I have seen true prodigies. Competed with them," he added. "I know one when I see one. And the fact that my niece gave you such trouble no offense," he turned to Rose, "she is not even the strongest of my mages here. She is not a fast learner, unfortunately. Correct, Rose?"
"Yes, sir," Rose replied, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
I was not becoming a fan of Lord Zedd. His words had edges sharper than steel. And he swung them around casually, like someone swatting flies.
Then, unexpectedly, his attention shifted to me.
"And you," he said, eyes settling on me with an unreadable calm,
"the mana-less older brother."
A quiet, clinical pity settled in his gaze like he was observing a rare crippled bird and genuinely hoping it would still fly somehow.
"Life is unfair to all of us. But do not let that break you, little one," he said simply. "Forge a path for yourself, as your father did."