Magic Acquired

"What are you scheming, Denzelle?" Argider narrowed her gaze, trying to read his intentions.

"Me? Scheming?" Denzelle placed a hand on his chest, as if wounded by the accusation, though the sly smile beneath his lashes gave him away. "I simply promised I'd see you through this mission. Even told the council to make sure of it."

He took a step closer, tilting his head in a bow. "So, by your leave, my emperor, let me be your loyal right hand in this endeavor."

Argider snorted, crossing her arms with imperial defiance. "Oh, please. Uzak is already my right hand." Her tone turned icy, her voice carrying the edge of command. "That is my order as emperor."

Denzelle blinked, momentarily thrown by her tone. His Argider, normally as whimsical as a breeze in spring, now had the air of a winter storm about her—stern, unyielding, and more dignified than he'd ever seen.

The surprise flickered over his face for only a heartbeat before he recovered, offering a demure smile in response.

"Ah, I see. It seems I have no choice but to abide by the council's orders," he sighed, letting a tinge of feigned disappointment slip through. "But join you, I shall—if only to fulfill my duty."

Argider scowled, then turned on her heel and stalked off, her wooden practice sword clattering to the ground behind her. She made her way back to the palace, a knot of self-doubt tightening in her chest.

She'd listened to Uzak's words, taken in his warnings, and couldn't shake the nagging thought that perhaps she wasn't cut out for this, that the weight of her title was too great.

Emperor, she thought with a bitter twist of irony, glancing at the tapestries of her ancestors who seemed to peer down on her with stoic disdain.

As she paced, her gaze landed on a portrait of her forebears—all painted with grandeur, each gaze steady and unrelenting, as if daring the viewer to challenge their rule.

Compared to them, she felt like an imposter in imperial garb, draped in titles she wasn't sure she could ever embody. Was she truly meant to follow in their footsteps?

"Alvator," she called, and a slender, silver-furred cat appeared from a shadowed corner, slinking toward her.

Alvator blinked, his luminous eyes catching the light, showing a glint of curiosity; it was rare for Argider to summon him so formally.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Alvator purred, arching his back and stretching.

Argider bit her lip, then asked, "Do you think… do you think you're a good person?"

Alvator cocked his head, letting the silence linger for a moment before he responded. "Neither," he replied. "I was a good ruler in the eyes of some, yet to others… a tyrant, even a monster."

Argider's brows shot up, confusion flickering in her eyes. "But… why?"

Alvator sighed, his tail curling thoughtfully around her paws. "For all the lives I touched as emperor, I also left trails of sorrow. We don't judge an emperor by kindness, Argider, but by resolve. It doesn't mean we're heroes or villains. It means we've done what is necessary. And sometimes…" His voice trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Argider nodded slowly, the weight of Alvator's words settling over her like a shroud. Her heart felt heavier, but strangely steadier, as if, at last, she understood the bittersweet gravity of her role.

Then, they gave a knowing chuckle, his eyes gleaming. "Oh, someday you might understand. But for now, indulge me, dear emperor. I've something to show you."

Argider followed, his curiosity outweighing her fatigue as they ventured down the winding, spiraling stairs—so many that she soon lost count, feeling as if they'd descended a thousand steps.

Down, down they went, through shadowed hallways that twisted and turned, deeper into the palace's very bones.

The air grew thick with mystery as they reached a hidden alcove, tucked away like a secret, shielded from any stray eyes. Here, Alvator stopped and turned, his face now solemn. "What I'm about to reveal, young emperor, is a privilege given to few."

Before Argider could utter a word, Alvator's eyes gleamed with an unearthly light. And then, as if the palace itself were obeying him, stones slid and ground against one another, parting to reveal an entrance that hadn't been there before.

With an elegant flick of her tail, Alvator gestured forward, leading Argider through a concealed stairway.

The descent grew even darker, their footsteps echoing like whispers in the silence. But soon, they reached the bottom—and suddenly, Argider found herself in a chamber blazing with light.

Her eyes adjusted, and what she saw made her heart skip: towering spears, gleaming longswords, ancient bows, all forged and wielded by emperors past. The room was like a gallery of legends, each weapon whispering of battles long fought.

"Alvator…" she breathed, her fingers trailing over a mighty axe. "What… what is this?"

Alvator gave a soft chuckle. "Ah, I have guiding the emperor's here before you. A keeper, if you will. I gave you space to grow, to see what you'd do on your own. I always meant to show you this place… eventually." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Though, let it be known, I'm not especially fond of you—but orders are orders, and here we are."

Argider arched a brow. "Oh, good to know you're doing this from the kindness of your heart."

The glint in Alvator's eyes could've almost passed for a wink. "Touch the stone the statue holds," he instructed, nodding toward the massive statue in the center of the room. "The Scepter's Stone. It'll grant you power—but beware, power is a demanding ally."

Drawn by a sense of daring, Argider approached, mesmerized by the stone's crystalline brilliance, its colors swirling like trapped lightning.

It seemed almost alive, a vessel of the magic that had shaped emperors for centuries. She reached out, feeling the anticipation simmering in her chest.

As her fingertips brushed the stone, a spark leapt through her hand, sending a shiver of energy down her spine.

Light filled the room, bathing her in a glow so brilliant she had to close her eyes. She felt something powerful settle into her bones, a promise of strength and something… more.

It was unlike anything she'd ever felt, as if the echoes of past rulers were now part of her, a gift and a burden all at once.

Opening her eyes, she found Alvator watching her.

"Magic," Alvator murmured, "has never been easy. Nor has power. The two don't just grant strength—they demand wisdom."

"Well," Argider grinned, feeling a thrill of her newfound potential. "Wisdom might take a while. But power? That, I can get used to."

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

— [SYSTEM ALERT!]

— [There's an overflow of mana within the user!]

Loading....

Installing....

— [Inserting 'Mana' Cultivation Medium]

— [CONGRATULATIONS! You have unlocked the Magic Interface in the System]

— [Magic Attribute: Magic Bestowal]

— [Description: The user can give magical abilities to the individual once they've connected emotionally and physically]

— [Cooldown: 24 hours]

— [Rank: Arcane Novice]

Her eye twitched as she took it all in. "Wait, wait, wait—so let me get this straight," she huffed, hands on her hips. "I can use magic now, but not for myself? I'm supposed to go around giving powers for everyone else's benefit?" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "What is this nonsense?"

Alvator gave a smug little shrug, clearly enjoying her indignation. "Magic demands sacrifice, young emperor. And sometimes, that sacrifice… is you."

"Oh, wonderful," Argider muttered, crossing her arms with a scowl. "Just what I've always wanted—being everyone else's personal spell caster."