The Tyrant’s Beloved Doll - Chapter 28

“No, seriously, how do you expect to see anything when you turn around like that?” said the voice again.

When she turned back to the window, there was Eaton, wearing an incredulous expression. Without thinking, Setz reached out and grabbed Eaton by the collar, yanking him inside.

Eaton tumbled unceremoniously into the room, looking up at her with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Do you even know how high up this floor is? If you fell, you could easily break an arm or a leg!” Setz scolded, her voice a mix of panic and relief.

“Hmm…”

“I mean, of course I thought someone was coming in through the door…” Setz’s voice trailed off as she stared at Eaton, baffled by how he managed to be at that height in the first place.

“For a little girl, you’ve got quite the grip. With the right training, you could make an excellent fighter,” Eaton said with a smirk.

“That’s not exactly something I want to be,” Setz replied, a little flustered.

“Well, anyway,” Eaton continued, chuckling slightly before his expression shifted to a frown. His gaze had fallen on the corner of the room, where a book lay on the bed—the one Raytan had lent to Setz, titled The Sorcerers of the Denhelder Empire.

Feeling guilty, Setz shifted nervously under his scrutiny. “I-I was just curious about it… and, well, I thought I’d take a look…”

Eaton picked up the book and flipped through the pages with a distant, almost hollow chuckle.

“You know, Setz, there are no sorcerers left in Denhelder,” he said, looking at her with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“But there are still temples, priests, and even the Grand Magician,” Setz said, a bit puzzled.

“True magic is the power to control nature itself,” Eaton explained. “Like how I can manipulate fire. But those people, they only possess a trace more magic than the average human, just a faint glimmer of it. That’s all it is. It’s nothing more than a shackle now—a mere illusion of power that keeps them bound to the temple.”

“A shackle…?”

“Originally, the leader of the temple was called the High Priest, not the Grand Magician. That title is just a façade, a pretty label. The difference is significant—the High Priest was expected to actually wield power, while the Grand Magician is just a name.”

Setz tilted her head in confusion. If they were so lacking in ability, then why even bother with them?

“Then what’s the point of the temple’s existence?” she asked.

“……”

“I mean, they could just get ordinary people to perform the rituals during ceremonies, right? Why specifically choose people with magic to serve in the temple if their powers are so insignificant…?”

Eaton smirked. “Why do you think that is?”

“What?” Setz asked, taken aback.

“The answer is simple. They were meant to be bound to the temple from the very beginning. The temple of Denhelder was always…,” Eaton started to say, but then abruptly stopped.

“Anyway, this book is filled with nothing but useless information,” he said, brushing off the topic. “Just a list of empty names, nothing more.”

“Empty… shells?” Setz repeated.

“Like I said, true sorcerers have long disappeared. This book was only created to keep track of the bloodlines that might still carry magic, out of fear that even a hint of that power might reappear.”

Setz looked at Eaton with a confused expression. But Eaton himself could use magic, couldn’t he? She hesitated before asking, “Then… are you an empty shell too?”

“What?” Eaton said, caught off guard.

“You just said that there aren’t any real sorcerers left,” Setz replied, looking him straight in the eye.

“You really do have a knack for saying outrageous things with such a straight face,” Eaton said, letting out a sigh of exasperation.

“Well, maybe you’re not entirely wrong…” he said, with a bitter smile.

“But the book also mentions the first High Priest,” Setz added. “Even if the magic didn’t get passed down through generations, there must still be some kind of legacy, right?”

“…The first High Priest?” Eaton’s expression grew serious.

“Yes, it’s mentioned in the closing passage on the last page,” Setz said as Eaton turned to the last page of the book. She watched him closely, puzzled by his reaction. He seemed to disdain the other sorcerers, even though he himself was one of them. All the people mentioned in that book were long dead, but Eaton seemed to treat them with scorn. So wasn’t he also connected to their bloodline in some way? His name might not be in the book, but perhaps he had been overlooked or omitted…

Setz craned her neck to peek at the page Eaton was looking at.

“I think this is the name of that High Priest,” she said, pointing to a word written in ancient script.

“I was curious, but it was in such an old dialect that I couldn’t read it,” she added.

“……”

“But then Brother Raytan started acting like he knew what it said! Even though I’m sure he couldn’t actually read it. I think he was just feeling threatened because I’m getting too good at Kazakh and—”

“What did you say?” Eaton interrupted suddenly, his voice sharp.

“Uh, what?” Setz stammered.

“What did Raytan say? How did he read this ancient text?” Eaton asked, his eyes narrowing in intense focus.

“Uh… he said it was Sharwhina,” Setz replied hesitantly.

“…What?” Eaton’s face turned as cold as ice.

“Sharwhina. He said the name was Sharwhina.”

Eaton’s red eyes, so similar to Raytan’s, wavered violently. Setz tilted her head in confusion. It seemed like Raytan had just made up the name on the spot, so why was Eaton reacting this way?

Eaton suddenly asked a question that seemed completely out of the blue. “Does your brother… can he control fire? Like I can?”

“What? No way! That’s impossible,” Setz scoffed.

“……”

“Sure, his eyes might look a bit like yours, but that’s where the similarities end. His hair color is different, too,” she added.

“Hair color,” Eaton repeated with a hollow laugh.

“Yeah, your hair is dark navy, not black,” Setz pointed out.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Eaton said quietly.

“What?” Setz blinked in surprise. “People can’t just change their hair color at will.”

Eaton didn’t respond, leaving Setz puzzled. Could it be that sorcerers could do something like that? She squinted her eyes suspiciously at Eaton, trying to figure him out.

“Anyway… so you’re just a fraud after all!” Setz declared, pointing at him. “Tricking people into thinking you can teach them magic when you actually can’t!”

“……”

“I knew it,” Setz continued to chatter, but Eaton remained silent, his gaze locked onto the page with Sharwhina’s name on it.

Coincidence, coincidence, coincidence. Black hair that looked exactly like mine once did, red eyes, the name, and the knowledge of the ancient language that everyone else has forgotten.

No.

It can’t be a coincidence.

Eaton bit his lip so hard it almost drew blood.

“Anyway, you were lying to me, weren’t you?” Setz said, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t expecting much, to be honest. Magic? Yeah, right.”

“Ah, right,” Eaton suddenly said, as if remembering something.

“Huh?” Setz looked at him, confused.

“I was supposed to teach you magic,” he said.

Setz gave him an incredulous look. If he was just going to forget, then why had he even brought it up in the first place?

“Forget it. I never even dreamed you could actually—”

“Hold this,” Eaton interrupted, extending his hand toward her. In his palm was a small, black stone, split perfectly in half.

“What is this?” Setz asked, looking skeptical.

“Just hold it,” he said.

Well, it probably won’t kill me, Setz thought as she cautiously reached out and took the stone. The moment she grasped it, she felt a sudden surge of heat, as if flames had burst to life in her hand.

“Ahh!” Setz yelped, immediately dropping the stone and frantically patting her head in panic.

“Why are you checking your head when you touched it with your hand?” Eaton said, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Eaton picked up the stone that Setz had dropped and said, “Ah, I see… You were worried your hair might catch fire like Lilien’s, huh?”

“Of course not,” he replied, letting out a dry laugh.

“I’m not lying when I say you can use magic. You saw it for yourself, didn’t you?” Eaton continued as he reached into his pocket. He then pulled out the remaining half of the stone he had previously handed to Setz.

“What is that?” Setz asked, still looking confused.

“This is a magic stone,” Eaton explained. “To be precise, it’s a stone that was used to seal magic within it.”

“But it looks like it’s cracked,” Setz said, pointing to the split surface of the stone.

“It has to be cracked for the magic to be absorbed again,” Eaton said with a shrug.

“If someone without any magical ability were to touch this, their whole body would be set ablaze. But you… you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Setz’s lips pouted in a mix of frustration and shock. So if I didn’t have magic, I could have actually died just now!

“You didn’t even get burned,” Eaton said, flipping Setz’s hand back and forth, examining it closely.

“But it doesn’t seem like your magic is related to fire,” he continued thoughtfully.

“Are you saying I can really use magic?” Setz asked, disbelief still evident in her voice.

“How many times do I have to say it? Yes, you can,” Eaton replied, sounding a bit exasperated. “It’s not fire magic, but it’s something that can be just as powerful. Depending on how you use it, it could save lives or take them.”

Setz almost blurted out that any kind of magic could do that, but the seriousness in Eaton’s expression made her hold her tongue.

“Wind,” Eaton finally said.

“Wind?” Setz echoed.

“Yes. Probably… no, I’m certain of it,” Eaton confirmed.

“Well… that’ll be nice during the summer, I guess,” Setz said with a hint of sarcasm, still not entirely convinced.

“‘Nice during the summer’? You have no idea how powerful wind magic can be, do you?” Eaton replied, shaking his head slightly. “You really don’t understand anything.”

“Ah, yes… I guess not,” Setz muttered, a bit embarrassed.

“But I know one thing,” Eaton said suddenly.

“What’s that?” Setz asked.

“There was once a woman who could control the wind perfectly,” he said, his voice trailing off. His mind filled with the image of Sharwhina—so beautiful, yet so deceitful. As he looked at Setz, the reflection of his crimson eyes was clear in her ocean-blue ones, shining intensely, just like that woman’s eyes had so long ago.

“Wait, so if I find her, maybe she could help me—”

“That’s not possible,” Eaton cut her off.

“What? Why not?”

“Because she’s already dead. She died a long time ago,” Eaton said, his face turning somber.

He thought of an empty grave—a place where even the bones had vanished, leaving nothing behind. A barren hillside where not a single blade of grass grew, where only dry sand was blown by the wind. His expression became hollow, haunted by memories of that desolate scene.

“Well… that’s really sad news,” Setz said awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

Setz hesitated, glancing at Eaton nervously. “By the time you come back, if I’ve mastered how to control the wind, you’ll give me a reward?” she asked, unsure.

Eaton’s expression softened into a smile, erasing the coldness from his face. “That’s right,” he said. “A reward, once I return.”

“Return? Where are you going?” Setz asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I have something I need to look into,” Eaton replied.

“What do you mean…?” Setz pressed.

“And there’s something I need to retrieve,” he added.

“What is it? Is it important?” Setz asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“Yes, it’s very important,” Eaton said, his voice calm but serious.

Setz’s face fell slightly, disappointment creeping in. Even though she hadn’t known Eaton for very long, the thought of him suddenly leaving made her feel a bit sad.

“Is there any way I can help? I mean, I might not be able to do much, but I could at least try. I could even give you some of my jewels if that would help—” Setz offered earnestly.

“No,” Eaton cut her off gently. “I have to go and get it myself. It’s something that can’t be bought or sold.”