Nikolai's day

In the heart of the magic tower, nestled within an isolated chamber veiled in the mystique of ancient incantations, a young man of striking allure sits amidst a sea of arcane knowledge. His lustrous mane of purple hair, fashioned into a loose man bun, cascades down his back, while his eyes, the color of violet amethysts behind glasses, shimmer with intense concentration. With nimble fingers, he meticulously transcribes complex formulas into a weathered notebook, each stroke a testament to his mastery of the mystical arts.

Before him, intricate sigils and magical circles dance and writhe in a mesmerizing display of ethereal luminescence, casting an otherworldly glow upon the room. The air crackles with latent energy, imbued with the potent essence of arcane forces.

However, the young mage's reverie is abruptly shattered as the tranquility of his sanctum is disrupted by the sudden appearance of an elderly figure. With a jolt, he turns his gaze towards the unexpected visitor, his violet eyes alight with a mixture of resignation and exhaustion.

The old man, cloaked in an aura of wisdom and mystery, regards the young mage with a knowing smile, his presence imbued with an air of ancient knowledge and timeless wisdom. In the hushed confines of the chamber, a sense of anticipation hangs palpably in the air, as the destinies of both young and old converge amidst the swirling currents of magic and mysticism.

*

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite prodigy," a familiar voice chimes in. I release a resigned sigh, recognizing the interruption all too well.

"Tower master, I am busy," I reply without turning away from the intricate magical circles before me, my focus unwavering.

"Don't be so mean. Why are you working so diligently? You're already a 4-star mage, on the cusp of breaking into 5-star. At this rate, you'll reach 6-star without breaking a sweat," the tower master remarks, his tone laced with amusement.

"I prefer not to slack off," I retort, my tone firm as I continue to pour over the mystical symbols etched before me.

"Come with me," the tower master insists, his demeanor brooking no argument.

"I have an appointment with MY master soon," I counter, finally turning to face the old man, my expression a mixture of annoyance and resignation.

"Fear not, I'll inform that stiff coot Corvus," the tower master assures, seizing my arm and guiding me out of the room.

As we step into the hallway, we are met with an unexpected encounter—my master, Corvus. His presence is like a chilling gust of wind, and I brace myself for the impending confrontation.

"It's not seemly to see you stealing my disciple, Tower Master," Corvus remarks, his gaze ice-cold as it settles on the tower master.

"Oh, come now, I simply want to spend some quality time with OUR disciple, Corvus," the tower master rebuts, his tone casual despite the tension crackling in the air.

"You know very well that as the Tower Master, your authority extends over my own. Hence, your disciple is my disciple," the tower master asserts, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches Corvus's stoic facade falter ever so slightly.

I stifle a chuckle at the sight, knowing full well that only the tower master possesses the uncanny ability to ruffle the feathers of my normally composed and impassive master.

Reluctantly, my master acquiesces, and I am escorted by the Tower Master to a vast chamber adorned with an array of intricate magic circles. Each circle pulsates with a mesmerizing energy, their interwoven patterns forming a kaleidoscope of magical hues that dance across the room.

This chamber never fails to captivate me. It is a testament to the ingenuity and skill of generations of Tower Masters who have dedicated themselves to the study and practice of the arcane arts. As I step into the room, I am immediately enveloped by a sense of wonder and awe.

The magic circles seem to come alive, their ethereal glow casting shifting shadows against the walls. It is as if the very air is charged with the potent essence of magic, permeating every corner of the chamber.

I find myself drawn to the nearest circle, my fingers tracing its intricate lines and symbols with reverence. Each symbol holds a story, a fragment of knowledge passed down through the ages, waiting to be unlocked by those who possess the wisdom and insight to decipher its secrets.

As I gaze upon the labyrinthine patterns before me, I am filled with a sense of humility and reverence.

"Amazing, isn't it?" His voice breaks through my reverie, drawing my attention away from the mesmerizing magic circles. He's right; the sight before us is truly awe-inspiring. While most mages only have the privilege of setting foot in this chamber once a month, I am fortunate enough to visit every other day.

I trail behind my master as he leads me to a table laden with stacks of documents, far removed from the enchanting allure of the magical circles. With practiced ease, I begin to peruse through the ancient tomes and scrolls, each one containing a wealth of knowledge waiting to be unlocked.

"Are you sure you don't want to be my heir?" The Tower Master's question is a familiar refrain, one that he poses to me time and time again.

"Once more, Tower Master, my heart lies elsewhere. There are other pursuits that hold my passion apart from magic," I reply, my tone resolute.

He sighs in resignation. "I know, I know. Your devotion to your beloved princess baffles me," he mutters begrudgingly.

"It's not something a hundred-year-old virgin such as yourself would understand," I retort, unable to resist the urge to tease him. His reaction is instantaneous—a bolt of lightning shoots towards me, but I effortlessly dodge it, stifling a laugh at his expense. It's a familiar dance between us, one that never fails to amuse me.

I delve into the documents, immersing myself in the ancient texts and intricate diagrams. As the Tower Master's unpaid assistant, my duty is to assist him in his research endeavors. Yet, despite the lack of monetary compensation, I find solace in the wealth of knowledge that I gain with each passing day. It's a trade-off that I willingly accept—the opportunity to expand my understanding of magic in exchange for my labor.

Despite the fascinating subject matter before me, my thoughts inevitably drift to her highness. I miss her presence, her laugh, her beautiful grey eyes twinkling with mischief. A sigh escapes my lips as I anticipate the end of the day, longing for the moment when I can once again be in her company.