The World Greatest Magician Is A Fraud

Sir Carrick remained on the floor, his plea echoing in Luke's mind. Slowly, he began to move up from his prostrate position, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a mixture of desperation and hope. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

Luke felt a knot tighten in his stomach. This decision wasn't just about Sir Carrick's request—it was about his future, his own life. The choice he made would have lasting consequences, and there would be no turning back. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

"I can't give you a definite answer right now," Luke finally said, his voice steady but filled with uncertainty. "I need time to think."

"I understand. Take the time you need," Sir Carrick nodded, a resigned but understanding look in his eyes.

With that, Luke walked over to the door, unlocking it and stepping out into the cool evening air. The barracks, once a place of camaraderie and training, now felt suffocating. He needed space to clear his head, to weigh his options.

Gareth took a step forward as if to follow Luke, but Sir Carrick held up a hand, stopping him.

"Let him go, Gareth. He needs time."

"I'll do what I can, Sir Carrick, but I can't guarantee anything. I promised Luke I would respect his final decision." Gareth looked torn, but he nodded.

"I know you will, Gareth. Just… do your best," Sir Carrick sighed, his shoulders slumping.

Luke walked through the quiet streets of the city, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The injured knights had been brought back, hidden away in carriages to prevent the public from seeing the extent of their injuries. The doctors, few as they were, had been pulled away from their usual duties to tend to the wounded. Suspicion and unease were growing among the people. The Knights of Purewood had done their best to keep the city's dire situation under wraps, but the cracks were beginning to show.

As Luke wandered, he couldn't shake the images of the children at the cathedral from his mind. They had looked up to him and believed in him. Could he abandon them now, when they needed him the most?

The city around him was a blend of familiar and alien. He had been thrust into this world by forces beyond his control, and now he was being asked to take on a role he never wanted. But could he turn his back on these people, knowing what he knew? The weight of responsibility pressed down on him, and he felt the gravity of his choice more keenly than ever.

He needed to make a decision, but for now, he walked on, letting the night air clear his mind. The city was quiet, but the turmoil within him was anything but.

Luke wandered through the quiet streets, eventually arriving at the familiar sight of the cathedral. As he approached, Sister Maria and Father Wingate stood at the entrance, their faces lighting up with recognition, though they quickly shifted to concern when they saw the troubled look on Luke's face and the light armour he wore.

"Luke, what's troubling you?" Sister Maria asked gently.

Luke hesitated, unsure how to explain the weight of his thoughts.

"It's… complicated," he said, trying to avoid the conversation.

Father Wingate stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Come with me, my son."

Together, they made their way to the main hall of the cathedral, where prayers took place. The hall was serene, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Sister Maria followed closely behind them. They sat down on one of the pews, the silence enveloping them.

"It's alright if you don't want to share what's troubling you. But if this burden is too heavy to bear alone, then pray. Let your heart speak," Father Wingate spoke softly.

Both Father Wingate and Sister Maria clasped their hands together in a gesture of prayer. Luke looked at them, feeling a mix of confusion and gratitude. Back in his world, Luke had never been a believer, never prayed or followed any religion. He didn't know the proper way to pray, but he mimicked their gestures, closing his eyes and clasping his hands.

In the silence of the hall, Luke let his thoughts flow freely, silently voicing his internal struggle. What should I do? The question echoed in his mind, though he didn't expect an answer. There was no divine revelation, no sudden clarity. Yet, a sense of calm began to settle over him.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes to find Father Wingate and Sister Maria looking at him with caring eyes. Sister Maria asked.

"Have you finished your prayers?"

"Yes," Luke replied, though he wasn't sure if he had done it right.

Father Wingate moved closer, pressing a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Sister Maria and I have also prayed that your questions be answered. Trust that guidance will come, in its own time."

They stood up and began to walk back towards the orphanage side of the cathedral. As they walked, Luke asked them.

"Could you… refuse anyone who comes looking for me for the time being? I just need some peace."

"Of course, Luke. If you need solitude, you may stay in my room instead of the boys' bedroom. Take the time you need," Father Wingate nodded.

"Thank you, Father," Luke said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

He made his way to Father Wingate's room, which was further down the hallway. Once inside, he barely noticed the room's furnishings, his mind too occupied with the events of the day. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he contemplated Sir Carrick's plea, the children's faith, and his uncertain future. The choices before him were daunting, and the path forward was unclear.

Luke sighed his thoughts a tangled web. He knew he couldn't avoid a decision forever, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, hoping that clarity would come with the dawn.

For the next few days, Luke remained isolated in Father Wingate's room, a sanctuary from the overwhelming decisions he had to face. Sister Maria brought food and drink to his door, gently knocking before leaving the tray. Luke would wait until she was gone before retrieving it, not wanting to face anyone just yet.

The children of the cathedral, naturally curious, began to ask about Luke's absence. They adored him, and his sudden withdrawal worried them. Sister Maria and Father Wingate did their best to provide a comforting explanation, though they knew it was difficult to satisfy the children's boundless curiosity.

"Luke is going through a hard time," Sister Maria would say, her tone gentle but firm. "He needs some space to think and rest. Please, give him some time."

"He will be back with us soon, stronger and ready to help us all again. Trust in his return," Father Wingate would add.

Despite their reassurances, the children's concern persisted. They would occasionally sneak down the hallway, hoping for a glimpse of Luke, but they respected the elders' wishes and kept their distance.

Inside the room, Luke grappled with his thoughts. He replayed Sir Carrick's plea in his mind over and over, the knight's desperate request for help, his prostration at Luke's feet. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on him. He felt torn between his desire to help and his fear of the responsibilities that came with it.

Outside the cathedral, the City of Purewood was in turmoil. The previously hidden threat had begun to surface, and the rumours spread like wildfire. The sight of injured knights being transported discreetly through the streets sparked fear and suspicion among the townspeople. Speculations and deductions were rampant, and the once secure and peaceful city now buzzed with anxiety.

People began to realize that dangers were lurking beyond the city's borders. The injured knights served as living proof of the battles being fought out of sight. The unease grew, and whispers of monsters and dark forces filled the air. The citizens looked to their leaders for reassurance, but Mayor Kingsley's absence only heightened their distress. The Knights of Purewood had yet to issue any official statement, leaving the populace in a state of uncertainty and fear.

As the days passed, the atmosphere in Purewood became more volatile. The townsfolk's trust in their protectors wavered, and the absence of clear communication bred unrest. Murmurs of dissatisfaction and fear spread, and small groups began to gather, demanding answers.

Luke, from his isolated haven, could sense the growing tension. He felt the weight of the city's collective fear pressing upon him, amplifying his internal conflict. He knew that his decision would not only affect his future but also the fate of those around him.

On the fourth night, as Luke lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, he heard a soft knock at the door. He rose to answer it, finding Sister Maria standing there with a concerned expression.

"Luke, the city is on edge," she said quietly. "People are scared, and they need someone to guide them, to give them hope."

"I know," Luke replied, his voice heavy with the burden of responsibility.

"Sound like the same situation you having here," Sister Maria continued. "But know that no matter how long it takes, we still support you."

Luke nodded, feeling a flicker of resolve amidst his uncertainty. As he closed the door and returned to the bed, he knew that the time for isolation was coming to an end. The world outside needed him, and though he still didn't have all the answers, he realized that he couldn't hide forever.