The Cycle of Fate

Chapter Two: Dreams

Lumián sat on the rooftop, not immediately going down.

His face was completely expressionless now, and his serious and composed demeanor was a stark contrast to the cheerful and mischievous youth in the tavern.

Ever since he had discovered that Auror possessed those magical abilities, he had been longing to acquire them himself. However, Auror always told him that it was not something to envy or pursue; on the contrary, it was extremely dangerous and filled with suffering. Therefore, she would never allow her brother to tread this path, even though she did possess a method to enable ordinary people to wield extraordinary power, she would never share it with Lumián.

In response, Lumián could only continuously seek opportunities to persuade and plead, but he could not force her.

After about ten seconds, Lumián stood up and skillfully climbed back to the second floor using the wooden ladder. He strolled to Auror's room and, seeing the brown wooden door slightly ajar, peered inside.

At this moment, Auror, dressed in a light blue dress, was seated at her desk by the window, engrossed in writing something under the bright desk lamp.

"What are you writing so late at night? Something related to witchcraft?" Lumián joked as he placed his hand on the door and pushed it open.

"Who writes a diary?" Auror replied without turning around, continuing to write with her delicate champagne-gold pen.

Lumián protested, "But didn't Emperor Rosser have many diaries that survived?"

Rosser was the last emperor in the history of their current residence, the Republic of Intis. He ended the rule of the Solon royal family and was crowned "Caesar" by the magistrate, calling himself the Great Emperor. He had several important inventions, including the steam engine, discovered the route to the southern continent, and ignited the colonial wave, symbolizing that era over a century ago. Unfortunately, he was betrayed and assassinated in the White Maple Palace of Trier in his later years. After his death, several volumes of his diaries circulated, but they were written in a script that seemed completely foreign and non-existent in this world.

"So Rosser was not a serious person," Auror scoffed with her back to Lumián.

"So what are you writing?" Lumián asked, genuinely curious.

Auror casually replied, "A letter."

"To whom?" Lumián furrowed his brow.

Auror stopped her elegantly carved champagne-gold pen and reviewed her words and sentences, "A pen pal."

"A pen pal?" Lumián was a bit puzzled. What was that?

Auror laughed as she brushed her golden hair back behind her ear and educated her brother, "That's why I tell you to read more newspapers and books and not to spend all your time playing around and drinking! Look at you now; you're like an illiterate!

"A pen pal is a friend you know through newspaper columns, journals, and magazines, with whom you exchange letters without ever meeting in person."

"What's the point of such a friend?" Lumián asked, quite interested in this matter. He couldn't help but be concerned that someone he hadn't even met might deceive his sister.

"Point?" Auror thought for a moment, "Firstly, it provides emotional value. Alright, I know you don't understand what emotional value is. Humans are social animals; they need communication. Some things, some emotions, I definitely wouldn't discuss with the villagers, nor could I tell you. I need a more private outlet, and a pen pal who never meets in person is perfect for that. Secondly, don't underestimate my pen pals. Some of them are very powerful and knowledgeable. For instance, this lamp powered by batteries was a gift from one of my pen pals. Oil lamps and candles are too straining on the eyes and not suitable for writing at night..."