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

Lukas stood beside Jesse within the hallowed grounds of the Magic Tower, its doors remained open to all. For the first time in the Tower's history, all were granted the privilege of laying eyes of what was within the giant structure regardless of their magic potential.

The morning air was cool, carrying the scent of old parchment and blooming spring flowers from nearby gardens.

Today, the Tower was no longer a fortress of isolation but a place of remembrance; its mysteries laid bare for the Kingdom of Easthaven to step into. Anyone who had known Varian—or even simply heard of him—could walk freely through those doors and say their goodbyes to the late Archmage. To come to pay their respects the people of Easthaven did.

The courtyard was never still. People came in waves: men, women, children, old scholars, street vendors, and nobles alike. Most of them had never known Varian personally. But still they bowed their heads as they passed his tomb, adorned in white lilies which had apparently been his favourite flower.

They lit candles. They knelt in silence. They whispered prayers to Oceanus.

Yet amidst the reverence of strangers, there were others—the ones whose grief could not be masked by the solemn calm of ceremony. Lukas saw many of them. He even spoke to some.

These were students who had once trained under Varian and now stood in silence with shaking hands. They told Lukas how Varian always gave them the time of day no matter what, answering any questions that they might have when it came to crafting potions.

They were parents who spoke to Lukas with tears in their eyes, telling him how Varian had once saved their dying son with a special concoction, how he had spent hours crafting a cure for their fever-ridden daughter when no other mage would even take their call.

Lukas did not know what to say to them. So he listened. He bowed his head and he listened, because for today, that was enough.

Lukas stood there for hours. Jesse, by his side, was quietly lending them his ears as well.

The two of them had already talked to the Head Mage. They had presented the King with their plans—Jesse's vision for the Shard of Obedience and their dream of undoing centuries of fear and exploitation.

Lukas remembered the way Magnus had leaned back, fingers steepled once they had pleaded their case. Again, Lukas had come to Magnus Elarion with a great ask. But this time Magnus had not turned them down, neither had he agreed to it.

The old man had told them that he needed time to consider what Lukas was asking of him. But he had not said no. Lukas held onto that, like a single breath beneath the sea, waiting for the right moment to rise again.

Now he watched the people pass, watched the skies shift from noon to amber dusk.

Rosalia was off training her swordplay with Celina, reconnecting with the Divine Knight after being away for so long. Lukas did not need to worry about Rosalia's safety as fervently as he did while they were in Nozar anyways.

Suddenly, amidst the slow procession of mourners, Lukas caught sight of someone he hadn't expected: Ellion Haever.

The young apprentice walked through the Tower doors alone, a simple bouquet of white lilies in hand—like so many others before him. But Lukas could tell, immediately, that something about the boy had changed.

Gone was the shattered look in his eyes, the quiet trembling he had worn like a second skin after his master's passing. Now, his shoulders were set straight. His gaze was steady. His steps, deliberate.

Ellion did not notice Lukas or Jesse at first, his eyes locked forward as he moved toward the crystal tomb. When he reached it, Ellion knelt; his head bowed as he placed the flowers gently upon the base. The apprentice mage remained there kneeling, for a long moment, lips moving in a whisper Lukas couldn't hear.

A private goodbye. A final farewell. A prayer, perhaps, to a master who could no longer hear his words.

When Ellion finally rose, his eyes swept the room and then they found Lukas. He walked toward him with no hesitation, each step ringing faintly against the polished marble floor.

Lukas straightened, acknowledging him with a small greeting.

"We need to talk," Ellion told him briskly, his voice low but clear.

Lukas nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Ellion wasted no time at all. "You told me to go through Varian's quarters when I was ready. And I did."

Lukas raised an eyebrow, surprised. He did not think the boy would have mustered the courage to look through Varian's quarters aboard the Merchant Guild's ship so soon. Not for a while at least, not until he had somewhat handled the loss of his master.

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"I didn't think I was ready either if I'm being honest," Ellion admitted. His eyes, still red from grief, now held a new edge—steel where there had once been only sorrow. "But I knew it had to be done. Figured that I might as well. I've cried my fair share of tears already."

Ellion paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "At first, it was just what I expected. Letters. Journals. His travel notes, old drafts for recipes I'd already seen him use. Nothing unusual."

Ellion's voice dropped lower, till Lukas had to lean in to hear him clearly. "But then I looked at his work station. It's this portable lab he carried with him everywhere he went. He brought it with him to Nozar."

Lukas nodded slowly. He had seen the lab before when Varian had brought it with him to the lowest level of the ship—a curious blend of chaos and brilliance, every tool in its exact place, every flask and crystal measured to the dot.

Varian's work travelled with him in a case no bigger than a trunk, yet inside it was a world of the Archmage's own creation.

"It looked like he was working on a potion," Ellion explained. "It was something new, I suppose. I didn't recognize the ingredients and there was no trace of a recipe for it. Based on what was left and the measurements I could find from it, Varian drank it. He drank it right before he went to bed."

Lukas felt a chill coil at the base of his spine.

The conclusion hovered between them like smoke.

But Ellion spoke it anyway, his voice steady and his eyes as hard as the steel in his voice. "I believe whatever was in that potion...is what killed him, Klein. It looks like Varian took his own life."

Lukas didn't know what to say.

Because Ellion might be right. Lukas had barely known Varian, let alone the thoughts that might have lingered behind his sharp eyes or the weight he carried when he was alone. For all the hours they'd spent together, Lukas had only caught glimpses of who the Archmage really was.

And now the thought—the horrifying, silent thought—that Varian had chosen to end his own life settled in his gut like lead.

The realization should have broken Ellion. But it hadn't.

The apprentice mage stood taller than ever, head high, his gaze unwavering.

"I knew him," Ellion went on, more quietly now. "I knew my master better than anyone, Klein. He was like a father to me. And I know that he would never have taken his life. There is more here than meets the eye."

The apprentice did not say what he truly meant—not here, not in a place filled with watchful eyes and too many ears.

But Lukas understood.

Ellion believed what Lukas had been suspecting all along. Ellion believed that someone was behind his master's death. Ellion believed that Varian had been murdered.

Lukas stepped forward and grabbed Ellion by the shoulders, firm but not forceful. The apprentice mage flinched but did not move away.

Lukas' voice dropped further, a warning now, sharp as broken glass. "Ellion. You have to understand that if you go down this path…your safety is not guaranteed. If you start digging deeper into this, if you start asking the wrong questions..."

Ellion didn't blink and Lukas could see the fear in his eyes. But in spite of that fear, Ellion did not fold for a second. "Everything I have right now, this life that I live—every opportunity, every moment—it's all because of him. I have nothing to lose, Klein. I would have died years ago if not for him."

The words were quiet, but they cut through Lukas like a blade.

"I'm not strong," Ellion went on. "I have no real power. I am not going to pretend otherwise. But if I find something—if I find out who's behind this—I need to know…"

He hesitated, then met Lukas's eyes with a look far older than his years.

"Will you bring whoever is responsible for this to justice?"

Lukas stared at him. And then he nodded. "I will."

A silence passed between them. Those were the only two words that Ellion needed to hear. The apprentice mage turned as if to leave, but then paused and reached into his satchel.

"I found this too while looking through his belongings," Ellion added, pulling out a folded letter sealed in wax. "It was hidden in the folds of his coat. And it's addressed to you."

Lukas took it slowly, his fingers brushing the seal—the Archmage's seal, etched in soft gold. His throat tightened.

Did he know? Did Varian realize that death was approaching? Did Varian write this in place of a conversation he knew he would never have? Would the contents of this letter possibly answer the questions that Lukas had for him?

It felt impossibly heavy in his hands. But Lukas didn't have time to read it, not quite yet.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder and Lukas turned to see Jesse, his expression grim as he gestured at the man standing just a few feet away. Magnus Elarion was standing right behind them, the Head Mage and King of Easthaven wrapped in deep green robes, his face unreadable.

Ellion bowed to the King without a word, and with that, turned and took his leave.

Lukas watched Ellion go for a moment. Then he slipped the letter into the fold of his coat and turned towards the old man.

Magnus then beckoned at Lukas and Jesse, wordlessly telling them to follow him.

It was clear now more than ever that Magnus Elarion had made his decision.

Now it was time to stand before him, to hear the judgement of a man who carried both the weight of crowns and the burden of arcane truth.