Chapter 25 Magic Practice Don't always listen to those boys, they all...
Dear Sanova:
It's been a while since I last wrote to you. Of course, writing to you now doesn't mean I've forgiven you! You know I don't like being ignored, so please reply as soon as you see this, okay?
Does the torment inflicted by the Black Witch's followers still have an effect on you? I hope you have fully recovered! If you feel unwell, please let me know, although I don't know how I can help.
However, Ilovenia is not the same as the one in the legend.
The Magic Flute has disappeared, and the Sacred Oak of Ilovania has been infected by dark magic from the Labyrinth of Edoro. We don't know how this happened, or if the two are connected; Queen Melia hasn't yet granted us permission to search for and borrow the Magic Flute. Lucas and I plan to impress her with a combination of art and magic!
Okay, I know you don't really like royalty, but maybe we should all change our views on nobility.
We've been away from Dias for some time now. I wonder if the King and Queen have become suspicious? If so, please come up with some more reasons for us. As far as I know, Nicholas II keeps a close eye on Lucas.
One more thing: Do you have any clues about "the tasteless one who stays in the west and drinks tears"?
We really need some help, especially after I discovered that Lucas might be turned into a cat forever because of my mistake, and Knox somehow knows the riddles and is also looking for these items! Anyway, the forest goddess gave me this warning.
What's even more frightening is that Knox may not be as young as we think.
By the way, if there's anything else you want to say about my background, now is a good time to tell me. The matter of being a child of the forest came so suddenly, and recently, our practice of new forest magic has made me start to re-examine this matter.
I thought this meant I could start my own journey, or that I was the protagonist of some story, but the journey was not as interesting as I had imagined.
Were my parents also forest wizards? Why did they abandon me in the ash forest? Does the blood of the forest god mean I bear some kind of mission? A fairy told me everything is predestined, is that true?
Oh, Sanova, I really don't know what to do. My magic is a complete mess! How am I supposed to memorize those spells? You told me to use feelings, but feelings alone can't achieve anything.
What if I fail to win over Melia and instead anger her?
If we don't get the item before Knox, not only will Lucas lose his humanity, but the Black Witch will also be unleashed, and the Dark Ages will begin! Maybe it's all my fault!
Who knew we'd get caught up in such a huge event?
Wishing you all the best.
P.S.: Please tell Mia I'm traveling and will be back soon. I don't want her to worry. I miss her and her dog.
P.S.: I suddenly remembered that my Space Scissors have run out of magic. Could you tell me how to recharge them? I might need them someday. You know, I'm always forgetful and need the Space Scissors to find things I've left at home.
The one who loves you most,
Ashley
Ashlin read her letter again, staring intently at the blank page, but Sanova didn't reply, just like when he disappeared. He used to reply instantly.
Tonight would be the Starry Night Party. But her magic continued to fly wildly, vines rushing about like wild dogs.
For seven days, Lucas had done his best to guide her, and she could feel it. He was very patient and never said anything about her outbursts, at most making a sarcastic remark about her cat form. He tirelessly showed her how to control the vines and drew her design sketches for the statue, but this only made Ashlin feel more frustrated.
No matter how hard she tried to memorize the design, it seemed to be of no use. She couldn't remember it. And the vines wouldn't obey her commands, either rushing about wildly, stiffly, or weakly.
Her closest attempt was to complete the statue, but at the last moment, she let Sheeta's head fall to the ground. Lucas had to remind her that she wasn't an executioner. And just now, she miscalculated the proportions of the entire statue, resulting in a rather miniature final product.
“There’s been progress.” The black cat’s ears twitched.
It was cool outside, and the sky, though not clear, wasn't too overcast either. Ginkgo leaves drifted down with the autumn wind and landed on the edge of Ashlin's hat. She went to the garden in front of the palace and casually found a bench to sit on.
However, sitting in a chair didn't suit her mood, so she slid forward and sat cross-legged on the floor.
She waved at the plants in the garden, trying to continue practicing controlling their direction.
Several roses that were about to wither simply withered away.
"Plan failed?" A pair of shoes made of green leaves appeared before her eyes.
It was Tara again. Today, the elven knight wasn't wearing armor, only a simple dark green casual outfit, her long hair loosely draped over her shoulders, making her look like an ordinary elven girl.
“Oh, no,” Tara shrugged. “Just hanging out. It’s a day off. This used to be my ‘loser’s seat.’”
She sat on the floor like Ashlin, resting her head against the chair leg.
"You? A loser?" Ashlin asked incredulously.
“I used to like coming to this garden when I was feeling down,” Tara said nostalgically. “For example, when my drawing teacher said my hair looked like wire and all the other students laughed, I would come here and cry my eyes out.”
"A sketching teacher?" Ashlin was a little confused. "But aren't you a knight?"
“I wasn’t born a knight,” Tara said. “Look at me, human. Do you think I look like knight material?”
Yes. The remaining six elves of the Knights of Tarabi were all small and looked much younger. If you ignored the coldness in her eyes, no one would think she was the Knight Commander.
“It doesn’t look very similar,” Ashlind admitted.
“In Ilovenia, elves who can’t draw, sing, or write have basically no future.” Tara smiled. “When I was little, my two best friends were both geniuses. I lived in their shadow throughout my school life. One was named Aidan, who could make birds sing along with just a tune he hummed; the other was named Laurel, who could draw sketches that would make you want to kneel down and look at them with your eyes closed.”
Ashlin's eyes widened upon hearing those two names.
“Yes, we used to be a perfect trio.” Tara noticed her reaction. “Everyone says that a triangular relationship is the most stable, but those two often didn’t include me. I wasn’t in their music, I wasn’t in their paintings, I was left out. I came to this garden to cry for my non-existent talent and lost friendship.”
Tara raised her hand: "I haven't finished yet, human. Can you imagine what I would be like now if I had spent my whole life doing artistic things? A craftsman, I think."
“I did this only for my mother. I used to stay up all night drawing useless sketches and playing out-of-tune tunes, just so I wouldn’t disappoint her. There are only the two of us in our family, and we’re not rich in Elf Valley. She hopes I will become a great artist and bring us a better life.”
Ashlin lowered her head. She had practiced day and night for Lucas's sake, hoping he would see that she wasn't that clumsy girl who couldn't control her magic. But in the end, she still was.
“I’m terrible at stringing, playing the flute, or memorizing lines, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless. I didn’t realize that until I saved Aidan’s life from Cerberus.”
Tara frowned.
"Her Majesty Melia was very grateful and sent me to the Knight Academy. Only then did I begin to learn what was truly suitable for me."
Tara stood up, brushed the grass clippings off her pants, then bent down and picked a yellow rose from the clump of flowers Ashlin had previously "ravaged," handing it to Ashlin. It drooped listlessly, lifeless.
"Think more about yourself. I don't know what Lord Aidan or Prince Lucas said to you, but don't always listen to those boys, they're all equally stupid."
Ashlin grinned: "I agree."
She accepted the rose, imagining the party's great success, her heart filled with joy. The rose shimmered with golden light and slowly bloomed.
Tara spread her hands: "See? You understand now."
"Hey Tara! And Ashlin too!"
Just then, Laurel rushed over carrying a large, rickety stack of drawing papers, with three different types of pencils tucked behind her ear. On top of the stack of papers was Lucas's sketch.
"Help! Aidan says he wants to see my latest work, and I have to move this mountain of shit to his room," Laurel said anxiously. "Can you help me? Damn, it's going to collapse."
It was about to slide. Tara immediately picked up most of the "mountain of shit".
“I think I have to go now,” Ashlin jumped up. “Thank you, Tara! Goodbye, Laurel!”
She turned and ran away, her steps light. Think more about yourself. Think more about your own feelings.
She closed her eyes, and what appeared in her mind was no longer Lucas's sketch, but what Princess Sheeta might look like, and the heartbreak of a mother who had lost her daughter.
She genuinely wanted to do something for that lost little life and wanted to see another side of that girl.
She may not be good at remembering precise designs, but she has imagination.
The magical light swirling around my fingertips grew even warmer.
She was ready.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
