The Falor of Khaleus: Blade of the Empress

Chapter 11

The library of the royal castle was silent, save for the soft rustling of pages and the occasional scratch of a quill. I sat across from Princess Elowen, my frustration growing as I flipped through yet another thick, leather-bound tome. The books were massive and heavy, their covers intricately decorated with swirling patterns and the royal seal of the Pendragon family. But for all their grandeur, they seemed utterly useless.

I sighed, squinting at the faded ink. Nothing. Just old records of trades and treaties. No mention of Empress Arthuretta or her legendary sword. I glanced over at Elowen, who was engrossed in her own book, her brow furrowed in concentration. The flickering light of the candles cast her face in sharp relief, making her look almost ethereal. She looked up briefly and caught my eye, quivering an eyebrow as if to say, "Keep looking."

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. This was useless. There had to be something we were missing. There had to be. I was just about to give up for the night when Khaleus's voice echoed softly in my mind.

"You're looking in the wrong way, boy. Focus your mana into your eyes."

"What? Into my eyes?" I murmured, confused. Glancing over at Elowen, who was engrossed in yet another dusty tome, I shrugged. What did I have to lose? I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I imagined my mana, cold and dark, swirling up from my core and spreading through my veins like icy water. A shiver ran through me as it flowed upward, gathering at the base of my skull.

I gritted my teeth, pushing on as I visualized it moving behind my eyes. For a moment, there was a sharp, uncomfortable pinch, and then—

My eyes snapped open, and I almost gasped.

Everything looked different. Colors seemed sharper, clearer. The shadows in the library no longer blurred together; I could see every detail of the carved woodwork, every stitch in the old tapestries. And then I saw it—several books and scrolls scattered around us glowed faintly, like they were painted with a delicate, shimmering ink only visible to me. I stood up quickly, scanning the shelves around us. There were dozens of items lit up with that eerie glow, all with hidden text I hadn't noticed before.

But something else caught my eye.

Across the room, hanging on the wall, was a large portrait of a regal woman in gleaming gold robes. I'd glanced at it dozens of times before, but I'd never noticed this. Along the hem of her gown, barely visible under layers of oil paint, there was a line of glowing text.

"Whoa..." I whispered, stepping closer, unable to tear my gaze away from the faint script.

"What is it?" Elowen asked, looking up. I pointed at the portrait, and she followed my gaze. "What are you staring at?"

"That woman—who is she?" I asked, still staring at the glowing message on her gown.

She blinked, then smiled softly. "That is Empress Arthuretta Pendragon, the First Empress of Ogygia. The Peasant Made Empress."

But I barely registered her words. "What's with the writing on the painting?" I asked, turning back to her.

Elowen frowned, confusion clouding her face. "Writing? Adrian, there's no writing on that painting."

"There is!" I insisted, pointing again. "Right there, along her dress. Can't you see it?"

Her expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Wait... you're saying you can see writing?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement. "That's... Verasyn! You're using Verasyn!"

I frowned. "Verasyn?"

She nodded, eyes wide. "It's an extremely rare ability few can even manage to learn. While the Veil keeps our world hidden from the Velnir, it can be thickened to even block our vision from things the God's wish they don't want us to see. I myself can only manage to use it in my left eye, and even then, it's barely effective."