Chapter 133
"Woof! Woof, arf, arf!" Suddenly, the library door opened, and Titus, round and chubby, dangled on the doorknob, it seemed like he had opened the door himself, calling for the two disciples who hadn't appeared during mealtime.
Sylas stood up straight, feeling embarrassed, and lowered her head, saying, "Sorry, teacher, I couldn't keep my balance."
Xerath couldn't decide whether she was glad or disappointed. She shook her head and walked past Sylas, saying to Titus, "What's wrong? Are you in a hurry?"
"Woof woof woof woof..." The dog's barks were accompanied by sobbing. It was obviously crying because it was hungry. Sylas picked up Titus from behind and held it upside down in her arms. After a few whimpers, Titus closed its mouth.
At that moment, Xerath asked softly, "Are you hungry too? Sorry for keeping you waiting for so long."
Sylas pursed her lips and smiled mischievously. Her playful eyes deliberately skipped over her nose and lips. "I'm just worried that you might be hungry. Lately... I feel like your mind is somewhere else. Is there something you can't tell me?"
Xerath smiled without confirming or denying. The Fire Lord Chef approached, emitting hot steam, but Hyectra stopped him. The Water Lord came forward with a cool water ball and smiled, blocking the Fire Lord's gaze.
However, Elvis's flaming skull pierced through his transparent body. Sylas smiled at it and greeted it with a nod, while the chef returned to the fiercely burning fireplace.
Sylas clenched her utensils and shifted her attention back from the two high-ranking servants. She whispered to Xerath, "But... I want to know about you. I know that your worry is not about your work, I can sense it."
Xerath couldn't help but laugh. She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. "I really like your perceptiveness, as I have always said. But I am not troubled by anything, and I don't need anyone to share my burden. Don't worry about me, and don't ask me to do the same, alright? You have things you keep hidden, things you don't want to tell me, and there will be more in the future, so don't expect it from me, okay?"
Sitting directly across from Xerath, Sylas could feel a certain pressure. Xerath's face still held warmth and her tone remained gentle, but the words she spoke made Sylas feel first embarrassed and then hurt.
- Xerath didn't want to share her thoughts with her, nor did she want to know too much about her. The archmage had no desire to know anything; she only wanted the Holy Light to belong to the Holy Light and Seth to belong to Seth.
Sylas realized she was asking for too much. If she continued this way, it would surely displease Xerath... Sylas remembered Leunen's words and had no choice but to say honestly, "I'm sorry... I won't ask anymore."
Sylas yielded surprisingly quickly, and Xerath felt a slight regret. Her intention was only to make Sylas stop asking this question that pertained to herself. But if Sylas didn't ask anything, even the archmage, who was used to solitude, would feel lonely.
Besides, she had grown accustomed to Sylas by now.
"Um..." In the end, she gave up defending herself and said lightly, "I'm not angry with you, I'm just setting my boundaries. Don't... don't make that face."
Sylas sulkily stuffed something into her mouth, perhaps not appreciating what Elvis had carefully prepared. The Fire Lord hid behind the fireplace, revealing half a skull as he looked over, nervously biting onto the semi-solidified magma in his hand.
The second half of the meal was silent. Sylas felt like she had messed up something, and even the wind around them seemed to silently blame the Elemental King for being too strict with her. Xerath couldn't help but cry and laugh at the same time, thinking that if she didn't do something to comfort Sylas soon, these winds would start a rebellion against the king's only prince.
However, communicating with humans was not her forte. While sitting on the couch, she struggled for a long time before finally reaching out to hold Sylas's hand, which was resting on the couch armrest. She said, "Earlier... I only wanted you to understand the etiquette between adults. First of all, of course, children are not the belongings of adults, they... um... it's just that they cannot fully take responsibility for themselves, so they have to transfer some rights to their guardians. But you... you are growing up, and next year, you'll become an adult, so..."
She looked at Sylas eagerly, hoping she would understand the hidden meaning in her words, it was time to test their understanding.
Sylas pouted and said, "I understand, I understand, I get it, I have to act like a grown-up..."
However, Xerath stared at her, seeming to want to say something else.
Sylas waited for her as well.
But in the end, Xerath just sighed, "Yes, that's right, I won't... I won't dislike you, you're my 'treasure.'"
Sylas didn't understand this word, it wasn't any language she was familiar with. She frowned, waiting for Xerath to explain, but Xerath seemed unwilling to explain.
"Let's read," she retreated to her seat, comfortably sinking into the soft fabric sofa, her whole body nestled in plush cushions, legs resting on Titus's lazily comfortable cotton mat, leaning her head back. A book floated in the air, blocking her face from Sylas's view.
However, Sylas could see Xerath's body, long limbs, fair hands, neatly trimmed nails that made her fingertips look shiny and delicate.
With hands resting on either side of her body, her thin frame floated on the soft cushion, making her look even more slender. The graceful curves of her slender waist and the slight swell of her chest formed artistic lines that adhered to the principles of aesthetics. If she were a statue, Sylas thought to herself, she would hug it every night.
It has a magical power that makes people want to touch it.
However, she looked down at herself and felt ashamed. She didn't know how many times she had envied Xerath, and how many times she had secretly vowed to become someone who could be compared to Xerath.
Study hard, this is a small but essential step in a great project. The little elemental envoy reluctantly looked away from the teacher.
They secretly watched each other all the time. When Sylas was quietly reading, she didn't notice that Xerath was peeking at her. Gu Gaoboren's handwritten manuscript floated inside another heavy book, and the straightforwardly romantic poetry of the female poet stirred wings silently.
More and more words describing women easily stuck in her mind. When Sylas spoke to her in a charming manner, these "fragrant with myrrh" words would spin in her mind, triggering her imagination and simulating an atmosphere of laurel, vanilla, and frankincense.
Birds couldn't help but sing delightful songs when she spoke. Were there singing birds in the tower? No, so Xerath imagined the chirping birds, and therefore couldn't hear Sylas's voice.
She frowned and asked, "What did you just say?"
"Um... I said if fire would be stimulated by the energy of the earth's veins. When crystallized crystal encounters lava, would it melt or crystalize the lava?"
The sorceress regained her composure, "Oh, there is a hypothesis about volcanoes and the energy of the earth's veins in the 'Yearbook,' but there are still no actual observations... recorded."
She looked down, avoiding eye contact with Sylas so as not to distract her thoughts, "Do you want to ask, what connection is there between crystal and lava, both of which are feared by earth elemental creatures?"
"Yes! I couldn't find a book like that..."
"D27, I think it's worth a look." Xerath couldn't help but stand up and walk over to the librarian, writing a small note. D27 flew towards them, the book falling into Xerath's arms, and the archmage handed it over to the apprentice who was bothering her.
They each returned to their respective desks. Xerath turned a page, flipping the Unicorn Observation Diary underneath her desk to hide the previous page filled with messy and scattered poems.
Most of them described sunlight and dew.
There was no need for anyone to point it out, she knew it herself. She was paying too much attention to Sylas.
Whether it was using beautiful vocabulary to describe Sylas or feeling exposed by lines of poetry that spoke to her emotions.
These past few days, she had been enthusiastic about reading ancient poetry collections. Compared to her previous love for landscape poems, romantic poems now captured her heart. The lively rhythm made her joyful mood even more joyful, and her indescribable emotions were being clearly articulated by others.
That's probably the greatness of poets... They use the most exquisite words to express the most hidden emotions.
She closed the book and sighed. In the past, she would sometimes panic because she lacked some ordinary emotions that most people have. But now these poems proved that her emotions were just not easily triggered.
Throughout history, so many people, so many people have had the same feelings. How many people would tremble slightly when seeing these lines of poetry?
But as many analytical articles have pointed out, the exaggerated romantic words and phrases of poets mostly originated from the infatuation period of love. They were full of emotions, to the extent that any little stimulus would make their emotions overflow, forming song-like poetry in their crowned minds.
Infatuation, an active emotion triggered by objective beauty, is an ideal tendency in the human brain, rather than something objective itself. Although she had never experienced it before, the archmage with a solid aesthetic theoretical foundation could still judge the state she was in.
People trapped in infatuation are simply blinded by their impulsive imagination, and will naturally recover if left undisturbed for a period of time. Based on this theory, she was extremely grateful that she had already found a good school for Sylas in advance.
No, it's even worse. It has shattered the last layer of haze on her uncertain concerns, forcing her to admit that she is in the midst of infatuation and to deal with this abnormal situation based on that, which means admitting that she is truly, truly infatuated with such a young and innocent child unilaterally.
Why would a mature, rational middle-aged woman have feelings of love for such a pure, young, and fragile child? It is simply absurd, strange, and unfathomable.
