When Magic is All We Have

Chapter VIII

Desperate times called for desperate measures. At least, that's what Lukas told himself as he carefully made his way through the streets of Britannia. He was doing this for Arthur's sake, and for Arthur's sake only.

Since the proclamation of requests for sorcerers in the king's court, many magic users had gathered to Britannia, drawn out of hiding by the rewards promised. This was Lukas' best chance to find a cure for Arthur's condition.

Arthur had only worsened since yesterday. Lukas had applied all the healing magics he knew of. Nothing helped. Arthur's body, strangely enough, seemed to reject Lukas' power. Arthur seemed to be battling some kind of infection within his body, an infection that Lukas was powerless to combat. 

Lukas warily approached the castle. In one of the outer courts, there was a group of people standing in a circle around another man. This man was rather tall, and had strawberry blond hair and gleaming crimson eyes. He was showing off his magic, summoning flowers from nowhere for young girls and creating illusions of dragons and faeries. 

Something in Lukas' mind screamed at him to run away, to get away from this man. But he had no choice. He had to ask someone for help. 

"Sir!" he shouted, waving his hand at the man. "Sir, I need your help!"

The man cast a dismissive glance in his direction. "What do you need, young man?"

"My friend is sick, very sick." Lukas didn't dare name Arthur or reveal his magic in the eye of the public. "Please, I've done everything I can, and he's only gotten worse. Please, can you help him?"

"I don't deal with the sick," the man scoffed. "Go ask someone else."

He's one of us, Lukas aimed his thoughts directly at the man. His magic is working against him, and he is very sick.

Something in the man's face changed -- only for a second, though. Lukas knew without a doubt that his thoughts had pierced the man's mind. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the man scowled. "Run along!"

Find me in the Rising Moon tavern in one hour.

Lukas nodded his thanks, making it look like a pitiful and submissive gesture. His pace quickened as he left the courtyard. What would he do for that one hour? 

"You there, boy," one of the royal guards pointed a spear at Lukas. "What are you doing in the castle courtyard?"

Lukas hid his panic and lied, "I wanted to see if the rumors were true, if the king really was recruiting sorcerers."

"What's it to you?" the guard sneered. 

"Just curious," Lukas shrugged. 

"You get what you were looking for?"

Lukas nodded.

"Move on, then."

Lukas didn't need to be told twice. He fled from the castle gates and into the surrounding bustle of Britannia. He asked around and soon found his way to the tavern that the man had described. Lukas called for a drink, and then he waited.