The Lord of the Seas - An Isekai Progression Fantasy [ Currently on Volume 2 ]

Lukas knocked gently on Ellion's door.

It was now the morning after the Celebration and the morning after the news had broken; the news that the Archmage Varian had died.

Lukas had come to learn that Varian had passed in his sleep.

Word of Varian's death spread quickly through the Inner Cities.

Most had not even known the old Archmage had come to Nozar to represent the Magic Tower. Now, they sent their condolences—scrolls with empty words, fruit baskets with no sincerity, letters sealed with gold and filled with nothing but pleasantries to show face.

None of them had known him. Not really.

But Ellion had. And Ellion had not taken it well. He had crumbled the moment he discovered Varian's lifeless body. He had dissolved into a sobbing mess by the time Lukas had returned to the Merchant Guild's ship after the boy had passed on the message. They had all stayed with him until the apprentice mage could stand again, then left him alone to grieve; knowing that no words would suffice.

The world may have returned to business as usual by the time the sun rose, but for Ellion, someone irreplaceable was gone forever. A guiding light extinguished, never to be lit again.

Now, as the door creaked open, Lukas saw the damage grief had wrought.

Ellion's eyes were red and swollen, his hair unkempt. But he stood on his own this time. His hands didn't tremble. He looked hollow, but present.

Lukas didn't say anything. He just held out a cloth-wrapped bowl and a canteen. Warm food and fresh water.

Ellion accepted them without a word. His hands gripped the items with quiet gratitude, and he stepped aside to let Lukas in. The room was cluttered with parchment and vials. Notes scrawled in haste. Half-finished potions. Ellion cleared a small space on the table, brushing aside a glass stirrer and a crushed sprig of wintermint.

They sat there, silence stretching between them. Lukas didn't break it. He didn't come to offer apologies, or say how sorry he was. Ellion had heard enough of that already—from mages, from nobles, from people who barely knew Varian. Instead, Lukas stayed. Solid and present.

Ellion began to eat the food that Lukas had brought him. Spoon by spoon, the apprentice's energy rose. The food wasn't anything special. It didn't have to be. Lukas watched, arms folded, as the boy swallowed both the stew and the ache. There were no tears now. Only the tired quiet of someone who had cried enough.

The Celebration had ended in cheers and bright lights. But for Ellion, the night had ended in misery.

The reality of the Archmage's passing had honestly not fully settled in for Lukas yet. Varian was gone. But he had seen the man just yesterday. Seen the spark in his eyes, the quiet strength behind every word. Now, Lukas never see the man again. The Archmage was nothing more than a soul drifting in the Underworld.

For now, Lukas sat with Ellion. And that, more than anything else, was what he needed.

After a long moment, Lukas finally spoke. "How long…were you Varian's apprentice?"

Ellion's spoon paused midway to his mouth. For the first time since the Archmage's death, a faint smile touched his lips—fragile, but real. His eyes turned glassy again, but this time from warmth, not grief.

"I have been his apprentice since I was eight," he answered softly, voice lighter now, carried by memory. "My parents…sold me. Into slavery. I don't even remember their faces anymore."

Lukas said nothing, his hands folding a little tighter over his arms.

"Varian found me where I was being presented at an auction. Said he needed an assistant." Ellion let out a breath of a chuckle, eyes distant. "He brought me to Easthaven. Put me in a bed. Gave me books, food. Taught me how to make potions."

The apprentice mage blinked a few times, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"He didn't have to do any of that. But he did. Treated me like his own. Varian never called me a slave. He was like a father to me. He was my father."

Lukas watched him with quiet focus. "Did Varian have children of his own? Any family?"

"Some," Ellion nodded. "I've sent word to them. Mostly distant—siblings, a few nephews, a niece or two. But no…no children of his own. He never married either. I think…he poured everything he had into his work. Into me."

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Another beat of silence.

"Did he ever tell you where he wanted to be laid to rest?" Lukas asked.

Ellion laughed, a short, fond sound. "He said he wanted to be buried in the only place that made sense. He said he wanted to be buried within the Tower."

Lukas smiled faintly. "Then we'll take him home. To Easthaven. He'll be buried on the Tower's grounds. That much I can promise."

Ellion nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you."

As he finished the last bite of food, Lukas leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting. "Ellion...I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me."

The apprentice looked up, curious but composed.

"Was Varian's health in order?" Lukas spoke with a hint of caution, unsure of how Ellion would react to his question. "Did his death come as a surprise to you?"

There was no accusation in his voice but Lukas just could not wrap his head around the fact that Varian had simply died in his sleep. There was a quiet whisper in his bones that something wasn't quite right.

Ellion exhaled. "I know what you're thinking. And I understand. Especially with how much he drank. But the truth is…yes. My master was healthier than most men half his age."

Lukas narrowed his eyes slightly but waited for him to explain.

"Sure, he drank to his heart's content," Ellion admitted. "But he also made recipes for some of the most potent restoration potions in the kingdom. The man would down a bottle of liquor one night and a flask of revitalization the next morning. His mind was still sharp. So yes. His death was a surprise to me. He was healthier than most men his age aspire to be."

Ellion looked down at his empty bowl, swirling it gently.

"I checked in on him the night of the Celebration, y'know? He had told me just hours ago he would be heading in early for the night. He was tired, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. When I did check up on him...he never woke up."

Lukas leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed.

Ellion's eyes welled with fresh tears, his lower lip trembling as he clutched the empty bowl in both hands. Lukas saw it all in his expression—the devastation, the confusion, the quiet scream building behind his silence.

The death had not been expected. And that was all Lukas needed to know.

Lukas gave a slight nod and stood. He had what he came for. Pushing Ellion further would do no good. The boy needed space to grieve, not more weight to carry.

"Thank you," Lukas whispered softly.

Ellion only gave a quiet nod in return, eyes downcast.

Lukas stepped out, closing the door gently behind him.

The moment he left the room, Lukas' expression shifted. His body was still calm, but his mind raced. The wheels had begun to turn. Varian's health had been in order. His death had come as a shock to everyone, including his own apprentice.

Sure the cause of Varian's passing could have been natural. It could have been his old age. It could have just been time catching up to a weary soul.

It also could have been something else.

Something...intentional.

Lukas climbed the steps to the upper deck, boots thudding softly against the wooden planks. The air outside was heavy with mist, the morning sky a dull gray that matched his mood. Jesse stood by the railing, speaking quietly with Velena, while Rosalia leaned over the edge of the ship, watching the harbor of Nozar slowly awaken.

Lukas joined them in silence. He caught Jesse's glance, then Velena's curious expression. Rosalia turned to him, sensing the shift in his presence. The edge in his movements. The storm building behind his eyes. He placed a hand gently on Rosalia's shoulder and looked directly at Velena.

"We're leaving," Lukas told them all with finality.

Jesse furrowed his brow. "What's going on?"

"I don't think Varian died in his sleep. I don't think his death was natural."

That single truth lodged itself like a blade in his chest. His gut twisted. That same primal instinct that had saved him time and time again—it was screaming at him now.

Those unwanted eyes and ears that Varian had been talking about? They must have heard the conversations that Lukas had had with the Archmage. The questions that Lukas wanted answers to. The truth he was trying to uncover. And now, that someone had ensured that Varian took those answers to the grave with him.

Poison? Assassination?

It didn't matter how. Not when the why was clear.

Lukas was next. Because of Styx's blessing and because of the Mantle, Lukas would not know even if they had already tried to silence him. He was grateful for the immunity the Mantle provided him but it meant that they could have already tried eliminating him like they did to Varian; and Lukas would be none the wiser.

Maybe they would try again.

He didn't know if it was the Church. Or Daerion. But did it really matter who was behind Varian's death? Because if they were willing to kill the Archmage, then what of Jesse? Of Velena? Of Rosalia?

They would strike at his heart next, knowing that poisons and toxins did not work on him. And Lukas would not give them the chance to do so.

His grip on Rosalia's shoulder tightened just slightly—not from fear, but from resolve. The Kingdom of Nozar was no longer safe for them.

Lukas turned back to Jesse. "We set sail within the hour. No more appearances. No more delays. Get the crew ready. Settle what business you must but there is no time to waste."

Velena's face darkened. She didn't ask questions, the Countess simply nodded.

Rosalia looked up at Lukas. Her eyes were wide but she understood what Lukas was saying here.

Danger was coming. And they needed to be gone before it caught up to them, just like how it had caught up to Varian.