Chapter 121: Glimpse

After they went out. Lord Sven called Twali, and whispered as the servant leaned closer to him, a whisper even Ned could hear: "Starting from now, I do not want any audiences."

Twali nodded and throw a confused look at Ned before shutting the door.

Ned leaned forward in anticipation. Anticipation he did not expect. The air went thick and heavy. But it didn't swirl around the room, instead, the ominous air was trying to get inside Ned. He could feel the presence of something unknown. Something was trying to bore their fangs at the very inside of Ned.

But Ned didn't bulge on his seat. He took a closer lean and said with his eyes looking at the city lord: "Whatever you are doing, it has no effect."

"Impossible," muttered Lord Sven. "Who are you, kid?"

"Nothing," Ned said. "And it seemed that you knew something about this." Ned tapped the almost vanishing resemblance of the Mark.

First, the air went whistling, a whistle just enough for Ned to distinguish a soft change, then it became lighter and cooler. The heavy air—gone.

"You know what I did just now?" Lord Sven informed Ned. "I tried to assess your spirit. But, it seems that... "

"Seemed, what?" Ned said, his voice was still that of fourteen years old, but it became direct and nearly commanding. He stopped pretending. He leaned both of his elbows on his laps while his hands were clasped underneath his chin. "And a spirit? Does that even exists?"

"No wonder," Lord Sven shaking his head. "It doesn't exist if you don't believe it? Is that what your thinking kid? All living have spirit. But inside you, I don't sense any. It was indeed a surprise, kid. Either you have an item that stopped me from reading you, or someone or something is blocking my spell."

"Why read me?"

"The Mark," Lord Sven said eventually. Wiping the remaining, strange, lines Ned had drawn, with the flat of his hand. It was as if he needed to make sure that no one must peek an eye at it. He looked up at Ned after he wiped his wet hand with the cloth he pulled from the side of his pockets and put it back. "People call it Engrave. Some called it a Curse, but the  one who really knew about it they called it the Mark."

Ned listened, he was all ears as Lord Sven continued.

"My ancestors," Lord Sven said, throwing his back against the chair. "The one before the Great old and forgotten King. Told my father, and his father's father that the one who has the Mark are the people chosen by the Maker. My family had the Mark. That's how I knew about it.  After the Forgotten King died, our House. House Tarragon suffered. He was supposed to pass the Mark to his son,  but his son died before it could happen. Burdened by what had happened to his son. The forgotten King; King Ulfgar Stormcrag Tarragon died together with the Mark."

This isn't enough; I need more. Ned thought and said: "You're also a Stormcrag, Lord Sven."

"Indeed I am," he said, smiling and rubbing his temple. "And I am not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. My father's father was a distant relative of the Forgotten King. That's the reason—I can't believe I'm saying this," he whispered. "I was burdened by my name, kid. A burden passed to every blood of whoever had the name Stormcrag. We... I... I will make sure that our name is known again on the continent. But we lack people with talent, that's why... I turned castle Burmstone into a place for the game."

"That is why you wanted to recruit me under your House," Ned said. "Why are you telling me these? And what's that it got to do with the Mark?"

Lord Sven shook his head. "Who gave you the Mark?" He said. Pointing his finger at Ned.

"My... " Ned said and stopped, holding his breath. Slides of different scenes with him and his master tampered his thoughts. "None of your concern, Lord Sven."

"Do you know who are you talking to, kid?!" Lord Sven cried. After which, a knock echoed behind the door.

"My Lord," Twali said. His voice was squished passing the wooden door.

"We're fine, Twali," responded Lord Sven. His eyes locked at Ned. "Keep the door guarded. Now, kid. Do you know what do you have within you?"

Ned shook his head.

"Of course, you're from an island far enough that the Kingdom of Griffith didn't bother to check upon its inhabitants. Which is why—" he paused. "Which is why whoever had the Mark before you, hid inside O'rriadt. And you? Depending on how you use the Mark, you might be a lucky one or the cursed one."

Aside from it preventing me from dying, and ignore some damages; there's nothing more about the Mark. Sure, in a world where dying; and magic exist, was a one time ticket to the underworld—if it exists—was kind of a luxury ticket. But, it won't even let me use it without the ten-thousand mana requirement. I even wondered if Master Will did use it. For one to have a ten-thousand mana capacity, that's like a walking bomb, with a tic-tac timer on their heads. Who could even control that kind of overwhelming mana? Unless—

"So what are you?" Lord Sven insisted, breaking the chain of thoughts of Ned.

"I want to know: where? Whom have you heard about the Mark? And do you have one?" Ned asked by leaning back to the chair, and added some things to ponder in his thoughts: In the end, I'm going to take it off my body, but I needed to know. Now that I have a core, if it is attached to my core or the very life of me. Master, how did you managed to do it? If ever the Mark is attached to your core, then taking it out means shortening your life span.

Lord Sven smiled like a ruler executing the people he loathed. "Don't test me, Ned Sskat," he said ably. "What. Are. You?"

Ned sighed off the strong intent in the air. "Neither," he remarked, both himself and the Lord sitting in front of him. "The reason why I'm here is to take the Mark out of my body. That's why I'm looking for a man named Roy, who might, or might not have any clue."

"Laughing would be the appropriate answer to that idiotic reason of yours, Ned," he said, almost smiling. "But, crying would be better. Marks are legends, kid. In the continent alone, only a handful of people—aside from me—might know the real value of what is inside you. And here you are, trying to take it 'out' of you.

If the legends were true, Marks or Engraves is the salvation of us all. The reason why the Royal House of Tarragon lost and declined through the passing of time was because... Forgotten King Ulfgar didn't pass on his Mark. Now. At first, even I wasn't sure if Marks did exist. The only valuable proof of its existence was passed on through words. My father's father, my uncles, great grandfathers passed it through words. No records are written about it, nor people that lived to tell the tale."

"Then, how did you recognized this?" Ned said pointing at the table, the drawing was gone. But they both knew what it was.

"Aside from one—no two," he said. His lips curled up high, almost reaching his ears. "The second was you. The first was an engraved stone buried inside the very foundation of castle Burmstone. The image you drew, an inverted triangle, with extended edges, is the same as the one we have here. Except, ours, the inside, it was like rain, breaking rains or some sort. If you want me to tell you more about it, sorry, kid. That is all there is.  For me, it was merely a legend. What important now is that my House has its own purpose. If you want to know how to take it out of your body. Roy of Moorkeg—Maker only knows who Roy is—might be of help."

Ned took another breath and let it out with a disappointed look. In the end, I got no clue on how to extract the Mark. Ned thought and raised another doubt.

ICE. He commanded it was loud inside his thoughts. Tell me, how sure are you that the Mark recorded in your system, and the Mark I have are the same.

[A hundred percent sure, Ned.]

ICE, responded after the chime.

[But. I do not have any record as to why it was here on this planet. Or. How did it appear here? Even for me. It was confusing. Surely, the Emperor of Sskat did not conquer this planet before. If he did so. The technology of this world would leap by a thousand years.]

You are right, and I'm lost. Ned thought pondering things.  For now, let's focus on the task at hand.

Ned stood, clipped his balling hand into his chest, and leaned forward. This time, it was sincere. "Thank you, Lord Sven," he said. "I will get my silver, and leave."

"Ah!" Lord Sven said with relief. "I don't know what I did to Finn and he acted the very opposite of you. But, he's my son, can't lament about it since I'm leaving my prime." He stood shaking his head. "It was nice knowing you, kid. If you decided to stay here, I can give you the best accommodation my House could have. But, since you're leaving for Capital, can't help you there. We're not in good terms with the Soak. At least, I knew that my ancestors weren't fictitious about the Mark. Wait outside Burmstone. And I will let Twali handle the rest for you."

Ned bowed, and took a seat, trying to ponder things, eventually thinking about grabbing food before leaving.

But before Lord Sven could leave the now quiet room. Ned remembered something that Lord Sven has said: "Lord Sven."

Moror Sven Stormcrag Tarragon took a slight pause and span around. He smiled at Ned waiting.

" 'Marks are Salvation of us all' you said," Ned said. "Salvation from what?"

Lord Sven blinked slowly, he then knocked, ordering Twali and said: "From the Gates."