A few hours earlier, Simon and Solomon were still at the dock, reading materials to help them understand Katharos as a whole. Eclipse had a culture focused on promoting growth in new knowledge and practices of all kinds. Even small rumors arising from supernatural beliefs or mental illnesses were thoroughly researched and studied—a culture that even people from the countryside respected.
"But why, though? Do you think it's because the founding era was a chaotic warzone?" Simon asked.
"Yeah, and it's probably stricter now since that attack from the new magic user twenty years ago," Solomon had suggested.
"Nonetheless, it isn't our problem."
...
"Yeah, right... like it isn't."
The bitter irony of those words echoed in his mind now. Just a few hours after that carefree conversation, Solomon found himself being held captive inside an unknown room. The walls were made of timber, and the furniture was crafted from solid wood. Although it felt luxurious by Solomon's standards, it still resembled the room of a regular man living in Solaris.
He'd be happy right now if he wasn't stuck inside. Though he wasn't fully certain, he suspected he was inside the Magic Tower—the wizards' base of operations.
Because of his stunt earlier, he had been instantly transported to this room via teleportation magic and subdued. Only after they removed his masquerade mask was he finally released from his bindings.
Thinking back to his conversation with Simon, the wizards did seem to have a high degree of caution when it came to unknown magic.
"Sigh... I hope Simon got some of the gold coins, at least." He stared at the wooden ceiling, still acutely aware of his situation.
How exactly had he cast magic?
The thought kept poking at his mind. He had been about to escape and run from the old man and his guards. Yet there he was, performing trickery like some magic genius, only to be treated as a terrorist soon after.
But... he wasn't completely clueless.
Staring at his right hand, he noticed the black ring he had worn from Astaris all the way to the town square of Katharos was gone. More specifically, after it had suddenly glimmered, it had shattered into pieces and evaporated into nothing.
"So much for my evidence," he whispered, extending his palm away from his face. "Magic..."
Even though he was facing prosecution for using new magic, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought. However, no matter how hard he tried to replicate what he had done, nothing happened.
It was almost as if the sole purpose of his ' magic ' was to get him arrested, then vanish.
With a sigh, Solomon slumped down onto the sofa.
"What even is this scenario, anyway...?"
He didn't know what would happen to him. Was he going to get punished? But at the same time, punished for what? For being the first to invent a new magic? That went completely against what Eclipse believed in. But truthfully, he knew just how terrifying a magic of unknown capabilities truly is.
Regardless, his fate was now in the hands of the wizards. Not his own.
After a few more hours of waiting and loitering, a knock came from the door that had remained untouched since his arrival.
Hearing his first source of stimulation in hours, Solomon jolted up from his seat and immediately pried the door open.
"Hello, the Archmage is calling for you," a woman in a long white and blue robe greeted him.
Clueless about what to say, Solomon stared blankly at the woman, unsure of what to do. Not only was he just fourteen, but outside of what he had read in books, he had absolutely no experience dealing with the higher-ranking officials of Eclipse.
Noticing Solomon's blank expression, the woman bowed her head lightly. "Oh, I apologize. Let me lead the way."
The hallway featured a grand arched ceiling. Two colors divided the upper and lower sections of the walls. The top section, painted blue, contained golden scribblings that ran along a straight line, marking the transition from the flat wall to the arched roof.
Unlike what he had originally thought, the lighting wasn't anything overtly magical, like floating candles. Instead, lanterns supported by wrought iron painted white and gold hung evenly along the walls of the hallway.
Evenly spaced wooden doors painted blue lined the corridor, with golden nameplates inscribed with various names and positions pinned next to each one.
Next to each door were unique designs and decorations that screamed different personalities. One had flower vases surrounding the entrance, with vines growing along the doorframe. Another had the leathery hide of a scaly beast pinned to the wall, with various monster parts framed beside it.
Solomon felt overwhelmed; the tower had multiple floors, yet just this one was already incredibly massive.
After walking for a while, a golden door with minimalist decorations came into view. It was located at the very end of the hallway, making it impossible to miss.
"René Crocus, Tower Master," Solomon read from the nameplate pinned next to the golden door.
The lady who had led him there knocked on the door before announcing her presence. "Tower Master, I've brought the young mage."
The young mage… So that was his title now. Yet, somehow, he couldn't even replicate what he had done. It was as if whatever had happened earlier occurred simply to make his life harder than it already was.
"Come in." An old and weary voice escaped through the cracks of the door.
At his signal, the lady twisted the knob and slowly pried the door open. Creaks escaped from the hinges, somehow making the situation feel even more tense than it already was.
Standing in the middle of the doorway, Solomon found himself face-to-face with the world-renowned mage.
"You must be Solomon." Sitting behind a blue-painted wooden desk, René crossed his hands over his mouth, staring at the nervous boy in contemplation. "Please, take a seat."
Solomon stumbled slightly as he sat down in the chair, his expression filled with unease.
Looking into René's deep blue eyes, Solomon started to feel guilty, even though he knew he hadn't actually done anything wrong. The old man's weary appearance—particularly his long white hair and heavily wrinkled face—made it feel like René already knew everything.
"Uhm, sir... With all due respect, I am an illusionist, not a mage," Solomon stated flatly, his voice remarkably steady. "I rely on sleight of hand and misdirection. I have absolutely no idea how that giant showed up in the sky."
René looked at him with a still face, his expression unwavering.
"Then please inform me. What exactly happened in the town square?" René let out a small smile, his demeanor abruptly shifting from an intimidatingly wise sage to a friendly old man.
Solomon didn't buy the friendly act for a second. His mind raced, calculating his next words carefully. "My performance was purely parlor tricks. I can replicate every single sleight of hand for you right here. But at the end..." He stared down at his hands, intentionally keeping his face entirely neutral.
"Something suddenly gleamed from my hands." He actively chose to lie by omission, hiding the existence of the ring. "And then there it was, the magic in the sky."
No matter how weird everything had turned out to be, he still trusted his late father's keepsake more than a powerful old man he had just met a few minutes ago—especially after that same man had kept him imprisoned for hours.
There was no way he'd let the man harm him. That is, unless the Archmage didn't know about the ring. Considering how much time his father had spent wearing it, Solomon resolved to investigate the matter himself.
No matter how overwhelming the situation was, he still trusted his late father's keepsake more than this powerful old man. Until he understood exactly what that ring was, he wouldn't give the Archmage any leverage.
"Hmmm. I see," René said, falling into deep contemplation. "Then it must be that merchant's fault. Simon, was it?"
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Solomon's composure vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, dangerous hostility. His hands clamped onto the armrests of his chair, his eyes narrowing into cold, protective slits.
"Leave Simon out of this," Solomon warned, his voice low, firm, and completely devoid of fear. "He had absolutely nothing to do with what happened out there. If you have a problem, you take it up with me."
"Hahaha." Breaking the tense atmosphere, René suddenly chuckled. "You seem quite emotional—befitting of a young child, I suppose." He smiled at him.
Solomon didn't relax his glare.
"That young man, Simon, was causing quite a scene, even threatening the mages to let you go. And he's but a mere merchant from Astaris." René rested his hands on his desk. "Though, looking at you, I seem to understand now why he was willing to go to such lengths."
René chuckled, stroking the goatee on his chin. "Anyway, you don't have to worry too much. Let's just say I don't deem you a threat."
Hearing those words, Solomon started to calm down. A profound sense of relief washed over him.
"But of course, it isn't as simple as that," René explained, dragging Solomon right back to reality.
"Anomalous magic is unpredictable." He stood up from his seat and started walking toward Solomon. "Normally, I'd have you stay under this tower's strict supervision—or, in the worst cases, down in the dungeon."
Solomon's eyebrows twitched at René's words.
"But since you're interesting, let's settle on something less... punishing." René stood in front of Solomon, resting a hand heavily on the boy's shoulder. "Coincidentally, you are at the perfect age."
"Therefore, you are going to enroll in Ars. With my special admission letter, of course." René smiled, thoroughly satisfied by the brief, genuine shock that finally broke through Solomon's cold facade. "Don't worry. Aside from the obvious fact that you possess anomalous magic, no one will know any other details about you. I put my name on the line for it."