This tale speaks of Jai, a youth of extraordinary fate, after the great tribulation had passed and he woke up from the sleep after three days, still lying upon his sickbed. The light of the rising sun, a soft silver sheen, fell upon the high windows of the healing sanctuary.
The doors parted with a quiet sigh, and two figures entered: Morisa, whose beauty was like the first bloom of spring, and little Arthur, whose innocence was a precious gem. At the same moment, James, whose hidden power was deep as an ancient well, emerged from the physician's chamber, his injuries completely mended. He appeared renewed, his spirit burnished clean like a freshly forged divine weapon.
It is a curious and fearful truth of the Mable Disguise Artifact that while it conjures a mere illusion of form, the wearer's heart and spirit suffer a shared fate with the disguise. When Jai took the guise of Arthur, and James that of Clement, the pain and wounds inflicted upon their illusory bodies were felt as acutely as if they were carved upon their true flesh. This was the profound mystery and terror of that ancient treasure.
The three gathered at Jai's bedside, a tableau of reunion. Morisa, ever the one to break the solemn silence, spoke first, her voice a gentle balm: "Big Brother Arthur," she used his disguised name, a habit of affection, "did you endure great suffering? Are all your wounds now truly bound and healed?"
Jai, with a weary but reassuring smile, replied, "Indeed, I am well, little sister. But what of the Queen and King Borin? Have they too found complete recovery?"
Morisa's brow furrowed slightly, a shadow of concern touching her exquisite features. "Worry not for them, my brother. Our Father and Mother are safeguarded by a powerful healing artifact, an item of supreme quality. It grants them a self-healing capability beyond compare. Alas, such supreme power is often a double-edged sword; on those of lesser cultivation, it serves only to hinder, making the natural healing of the body a harder path. Be at ease regarding them."
Little Arthur, his eyes shimmering with the tears of relief, a pure joy after three days of relentless worry while Jai remained unconscious, crept close. He took Jai's right hand in his own small, white grasp, holding on as if to an anchor in a storm.
Just then, the physician arrived. He examined Jai with a knowing eye and spoke words that were music to all ears: "Your meridians are stable, your essence is restored. The injuries are fully mended. You may take your leave of this sanctuary whenever your heart desires."
James, the cautious shadow, advised, "Do not rush, my sworn brother. Rest for a few more days, gather your vitality until your spirit is completely whole."
But Jai, his eyes alight with a fierce, restless energy, shook his head. "No, I cannot abide a moment longer. I must leave this place, return to the Palace, and seek out Zayn with all haste. The mysteries that shroud us will not unravel themselves while I recline in comfort."
James and the others bowed to his will, understanding the urgency of his heart. Yet, little Arthur refused to relinquish his hand. Jai, a profound tenderness in his gaze, gently lifted the boy. He held the little one close and asked, "Were you so afraid, my little one? Did you truly fear that your Big Brother had perished in the heat of battle?" Arthur nodded, burying his face into Jai's shoulder to wipe away the tears of sheer relief.
Soon, the well-wishers departed, leaving Jai and James as the sole occupants of the chamber. They moved with quiet purpose, stepping out into the cool, tranquil air of the hospital's garden. Jai sought out the very black wooden chair—plain, yet holding a terrible secret—where he had spoken with the enigmatic man in blue garments that fateful night.
Under the silent, watchful sky, Jai recounted the entire, terrifying encounter. James, listening to the tale of the man who had called Jai by his true name—a name veiled from the world—was utterly shaken. His shock was palpable, a tremor in his very essence.
"He... he truly uttered your true, hidden name?" James whispered, his voice barely a breath, fearing the very wind might carry such a profound secret. "And that man, was he a true existence, not merely a phantom of illusion?"
Jai's gaze turned sharp, tinged with a righteous anger, a fire that could burn away all doubt. "Do you believe I have lost my mind's clarity, that my spirit has fractured from the tribulations?" His retort was a shield of steel.
Seeing the truth reflected in Jai's unwavering eyes, James's spirit settled. Both men, now united in purpose and fear, realized the dire necessity of immediate action. They must journey to the Palace, present this ominous truth to Zayn, and initiate a thorough investigation into the deep currents of deceit and danger that were now flooding their world.
They left the quiet sanctuary of the hospital behind and made their way toward the towering, majestic form of the Royal Palace. Once within the palace walls, they retreated to their private quarters, shedding the grime of battle and the pallor of the sickbed. After a brief period of refreshment, Jai's mind wandered to the innocent little Arthur. Seeking the solace of his presence, he made his way to the Dining Hall.
His heart swelled with warmth—a rare and precious feeling—as he saw Arthur, safe and sound, seated beside Morisa. As Jai entered, a spontaneous eruption of clapping broke out, welcoming him back to the world of the living, a joyful noise filling the great hall.
Jai descended from the raised dais and took his appointed seat. A solemn silence fell as King Borin, a man weighed down by his crown, spoke, his voice heavy with contrition. "At this moment, I see before me many who have faced injury, whose blood has been spilled within these very walls. I feel profound shame and sorrow for the suffering inflicted upon you all, and especially those who were wounded." He then did the unthinkable: King Borin, a sovereign of his realm, bowed low before the assembly.
Zayn and Morisa watched their father, the King, perform this unprecedented act of humility—a gesture of such weight that it sent ripples of shock through the hall. Yet, Jai, the youth whose body had endured the fiercest assault, felt no pity, no commiseration for the King. In Jai's heart, a cold, hard truth resided: the King's own lineage, his own failure to govern the treacherous currents within the palace, was the root cause of the great damage and destruction that had befallen them all.
"Father, please rise!" Zayn and Morisa urged in a chorus of earnest respect.
The King slowly righted himself, settling back onto his throne. He turned his attention to Jai, a different light in his eyes. "Your Minister Position Ceremony shall take place in two days' time. When that day comes, I shall also pledge to oversee the complete and thorough repair of all damage inflicted upon this sacred Palace."
Jai merely nodded, a gesture of quiet acceptance, his expression revealing little. The King, a man not without political acumen, understood the silence. Jai was not in a disposition for pleasantries; his own body was a tapestry of recovering injuries, and both his true brother and the child he protected had also suffered. Therefore, the King wisely refrained from further words. They broke their fast in a heavy silence, the unspoken truths and lingering shadows of the recent conflict hanging over the hall.
Then, in a move that shocked the court, the King made a sudden, baffling announcement: he was to embark on a journey to the Human Kingdom for a period of time. Already, the Palace lay scarred, its defenses compromised, yet the sovereign chose to depart. Most were aghast. However, Jai and James remained unmoved, their expressions calm as still water. Their lack of concern stemmed from a hidden, potent truth: they possessed the trump cards, the pair of Necklaces of Protection bestowed upon them by the Human Kingdom sole ruler "Beatrice".
Immediately after the meal, the two young men sought out Zayn. They found him in his chamber, a figure of thoughtful grace, seated and engrossed in the study of a rare tome. They announced their presence, and Zayn, seeing the gravity etched upon their faces, waved them to a seat.
Zayn, a man of acute perception, understood at once the purpose of their visit. They sought answers to the chilling riddles of the past few days. With a sigh of resignation, he set his book aside. "Ask what you will," Zayn stated, his voice firm, "If the answer is within my knowledge, I shall hold nothing back."
Jai, wasting no time on pleasantries, cut to the heart of the matter. "Tell me the truth of the Principal of the Academy. Why did you elevate him above all others?"
A shadow crossed Zayn's face. "Yes, I know his true identity. His name is Vystan. I only that he works as a principal other than that i didn't know anything and also i ask my soldiers to investigate about him. But, they didn't find anything new. I also have a suspicious on him".
At the utterance of that name, a name that echoed with treachery and past malice, both Jai and James were struck dumb with profound shock. Jai reacted with a speed born of furious realization, leaping from his chair. His hand shot out, grasping Zayn's collar in a sudden, fierce display of anger.
"He is the same villain who kidnapped Morisa!" Jai's voice was a low, dangerous rumble.
Zayn's face immediately paled, shame and self-recrimination flooding his features. He felt the sting of his own terrible misjudgment. "Why did you not reveal this truth sooner?" he demanded, his own fury rising.
Jai released his grip, his expression shifting to one of grim necessity. "At that time, the plight of the hostages overshadowed all. We were bound by the need to secure their release, to prevent further tragedy."
The truth of this argument was undeniable. Zayn's inner turmoil subsided, replaced by a quiet, steely resolve. "Indeed. I harbored deep suspicion regarding his character. That is precisely why I made him the Principal. I reasoned that if he attempted any nefarious deed, the collective teachers would serve as a check, voicing their complaints and bringing his misconduct to light."
Jai, his mind clearing, finally grasped the true depth of Zayn's political maneuvering. He then recounted the chilling encounter with the man in the blue dress, the one who possessed the forbidden knowledge of Jai's real name.
A palpable tension settled over the three. All gaiety and youthful arrogance evaporated, replaced by a profound and sobering realization: they resided in a world where forces far more powerful and cunning than themselves were at play. The recent conflict was merely a ripple; a great storm was brewing, and trouble could surge forth from any direction, at any time.
The three young men, the weight of a dawning, terrible truth upon their shoulders, exchanged a solemn, silent vow. They would be ready. The long road of vigilance and preparation stretched out before them, a path they knew they must walk together.