The next day passed too quickly. Jonathan had been practicing with Arthur for a while. He had been refusing to talk about the incident that occurred yesterday, not knowing exactly what Arthur had seen inside his mind. Arthur seemed fine with the arrangement as well, not wanting to talk about the horrifying images he had no doubt been subjected to.

For the whole day, Arthur tried to find a way around the mental block put into Jonathan's head. They tried thinking about it differently, even Jonathan attempted to get rid of it himself the night after. Fortunately, it seemed to be a poorly made barrier, but it was protected by a casing of traumatic memories, making it near impossible to break without severely hurting Jonathan. So, they worked around it. It was difficult, but Jonathan managed to change an ant into a small beetle, and a spider into an ant. It seemed that any magic that was practiced on life was blocked from his abilities. Jonathan also couldn't do any Mentalism magic or Living Enchantment. Transformation was fine, because it involved non-living objects, but Transfiguration on larger, more sentient animals seemed near impossible.

"Jonathan?"

"What?" he shot up from his bed, having nearly fallen asleep.

"I think we should take a break. I can come back on Sunday," offered Arthur.

"Right, crud." Jonathan smacked his hand across his face. "Sorry, I didn't remember. I'm supposed to be helping you, aren't I."

Arthur shook his head. "No, no. It's fine." He smiled gently. "It's nice to be the better magician for once in my life."

Jonathan groaned. "I didn't even know you could use magic on living things until now. How am I supposed to be the court magician if I can't even do that?"

Arthur nodded absently. "You can do the super advanced stuff, right?"

"Like Cosmology? Yeah. I can do the light one very well, my friend chose that as her discipline. I've been a little scared to try out time, space, and gravity, but they don't seem that bad. Easier than transfiguration. And Necromancy—I haven't tried the life or death subs, but I have tried the spiritual one."

"Really? You can do that?" asked Arthur, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, when my grandma died, someone told me I could still talk to her using magic. It wasn't that hard," commented Jonathan.

"What spell did you use?" asked Arthur. "I didn't know Necromancy spells were available to people in the outskirts of the country."

"What spell?" pondered Jonathan. "I don't really remember it exactly, but I think it went something like, 'mea avia dicent mihi', but I can't remember too clearly."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "I may not be very good at executing magic, but I'm very talented at remembering and memorizing spells, and I've never heard of that one." He looked to Jonathan, his eyes asking for an explanation.

Jonathan tilted his head in confusion. "Well, of course not, why would you?"

"What?" asked Arthur, confused.

"I made it up Arthur, why would you know it? Why were you memorizing spells in the first place?" questioned Jonathan.

Arthur gaped. "You made it up?" He stared as Jonathan from across the room. "You just, made it up?"

Jonathan looked un-concerned. "Of course, what do you do?"

Arthur sighed, sitting next to Jonathan on the bed. He turned his body to face him. "Jonathan, you're from the north, so let me explain it to you. To do certain magic, you have certain spells that pertain to certain words. To move an object, you say, 'objecti movent.' to move it in different ways, you change the tone, and volume, anything else. That's because those words are enchanted. They're made to do a certain thing, no matter what level of wizard says them. You can't just make up spells, because they won't have the same kind of power behind them," he finished, finally taking a breath.

Jonathan shook his head. "That's dumb. I hate spell tone. Why can't you just change the spell?"

Arthur sighed. "It'll be a lot harder to use the spell," he explained.

Jonathan shook his head again. "No, it isn't. He grabbed his wand out of his pocket. "Look."

He focused on a charcoal stick on his desk. "Objecti movent" he said, moving his tone up. The writing utensil floated up on the desk, and then fell back down. He pointed his wand again. "Objecti fugient sursum," he said flatly, and the stick rose again in the exact same manner, but perhaps a little higher.

Arthur just stared at him, not saying anything. Jonathan looked back at him, a little prideful.

"Have you considered Spell Creation and Alteration as your discipline?" inquired Arthur, out of the blue.

"No," stated Jonathan. "It sounds boring."

Arthur gaped. "You want to be the court magician, right?" he inquired.

"Yes," replied Jonathan, "I really want to."

Arthur smiled. "Show them that, they'll like it."

Jonathan nodded, excited. He wanted this so badly.

"Why do you want to be the court magician anyways?" asked Arthur.

The other boy looked up towards the ceiling. "I don't really know; it just seems to draw me in for some reason. It seems important, and exciting. I just want it."

Arthur smiled again. "I think I want you as my court magician too," he muttered.

Jonathan quickly turned his head to the fair-haired boy, looking surprised.

Arthur's cheeks grew into a bright red. "I don't mean—um... It's because of my magic, you know?" he stammered. "I'm not that good, and you're really, really talented, and you're the only one other than my parents and advisors I've told about this, s-so you could probably help me hide it, since you're really good." His cheeks could've been mistaken for two plump tomatoes if they were alone.

Jonathan grinned. "You think I'm good? Really?" His face seemed to light up. "I came here, and everyone was using wands, and it's still really hard for me, so I wasn't sure if I was actually good or not, I don't really have an accurate idea about my talent level because I was raised in the north, so that's really good to hear! I'm excited! Thanks!" he beamed, seemingly a ray of sunshine, appearing to lighten the dark room.

Arthur's blush creeped into the rest of his face, a guilty look accompanying it. "Y-yeah... You're welcome." He stood up quickly, turning away. "I should go." He pointed the window. "It's late, but I'll come back tomorrow, okay?" he swiftly turned around and waved, and before Jonathan could utter a word, rapidly left the room.

▅ ▆ ▇ █ ▇ ▆ ▅

Jonathan woke up at the crack of dawn, as usual. He was used to it because of the constant crowing of roosters in the village. Unfortunately, that made today a little boring. Arthur took hours to get to the dorm, mostly because he was required to eat breakfast with his family, and didn't get up until at least two hours after dawn. Jonathan found himself anxious for the prince's arrival. He tried to tame his hair, but because he had washed it yesterday, it'd dried in a crazy state, making it near impossible to fix it without wetting it down. The well was all the way downstairs, and he'd have to walk up here anyways, so it didn't seem worth the effort, even for the crown prince of the kingdom.

Eventually, it was three hours after sunrise that Arthur arrived. He was carrying a large black pack on his back. Jonathan was practicing simple spells without his wand to pass the time, and when the door opened, he forgot all about the pieces of clothing he was moving around like a person

Arthur yelped and jumped when he saw the headless 'person' walking around the room. However, Jonathan's laughing face reassured him that it was of no concern. Begrudgingly, he sat down next to Jonathan.

"Gods, Jonathan, please warn be about these things," he pleaded.

"Next time you can knock," countered Jonathan.

Arthur groaned, only letting his mind linger on the fact that there might be a next time. "Um... I was wondering. Can we work on Mysticism today? It doesn't involve anything do to with living creatures so it should be okay to work on with you, right?" he asked timidly.

Jonathan nodded, letting the clothing fall to the floor as he went to grab his wand out of his pocket. "Sure, but I've never tried anything other than clairvoyance before."

Arthur shook his head. "That's fine, I don't need to know any of that." He paused, looking at Jonathan. "But you do, and you haven't practiced it at all? The interviews and hiring process start next week, shouldn't you at least try it before then?"

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't really want to know the future, and the past didn't interest him much. "I suppose so," he pondered. "But what would I even see?"

Arthur thought about it for a second. "I don't know. I guess looking into the future is scary, but looking into the past... for you—at least, it could be worse, I guess—I don't know—"

"Arthur, it's fine. Not everything in my past is traumatizing," Jonathan chided.

Arthur's cheeks lit up, red again. Jonathan wondered why the prince was so easily embarrassed. "Anyways, what's the spell I should use?" he asked.

"Ego video," stated the fair-haired boy, the falling tone of the spell enunciated so that Jonathan could hear it.

"Really?" Jonathan scoffed. "Ego video? That's it?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Do it however you want then, see if I care if you fail."

Jonathan groaned. "Fine. I'll do it your way, but if it doesn't work, I'm trying it my way."

"What do you mean, 'your way'?" asked Arthur.

"I hate using spell tone. It's so much easier so say something like 'Ego video in praeteritum.' It's much clearer, and it's easier to remember." 

 "Jonathan," started Arthur. "You can't do that; I know for a fact there's no enchantment on that spell. I really don't think it'll work." 

 "It's fine, Arthur. I'll just do it your way. I'm sure it'll work," Jonathan conceded, only a hint of sarcasm lingering. 

 Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything more to egg on Jonathan. The dark-haired boy took a deep breath, preparing to try the spell. Holding onto his wand, not specifically pointing at anything, he uttered the spell. "Ego video." 

Nothing happened. 

 "You have to make your tone go down, like you're singing a tune," pointed out Arthur. 

 "Why are you helping me? Weren't we supposed to be working on you anyways?" spat Jonathan. 

 "In order for you to help me properly, you should know how to do the spells. Besides, I don't need help with spells, I need help with actually doing the magic. I can learn from watching you," explained the prince. 

Jonathan sighed. "Ego video," he said.  

Everything went black. 

 "Arthur? Arthur? I can't see, Arthur, there's nothing there," panicked Jonathan. He tried moving, but couldn't feel his body. 

 "Jonathan, it's okay, just focus on the time you want to go back to," came a distorted voice in the sky. 

 If Jonathan could've felt his body, he would've been shaking in fear. It wasn't just that he couldn't see, it was like all his senses were gone. He couldn't feel, see, taste, smell, and he could barely hear. It's strange, he never noticed the smell of his woolen blankets until it was gone, and he never realized the constant pressure of his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. He couldn't hear any ambient noise, see his nose in front of him, or see his dark locks of hair falling in front of his face. He couldn't feel the tears that were most likely dripping down his face either. 

"Jon, Jonathan!" yelled the voice. It was probably the prince. "Jon, just focus on a time in the past, it's alright, don't freak out." 

 Jonathan tried hard to focus, he really did. He couldn't feel his breathing, but he was sure it must've been irregular and erratic. He wondered what time he should go back to. Sometime that didn't harbor any negative feelings. Actually, somewhere that didn't involve him. He already knew about himself, so why relive it? He needed a subject. He picked Arthur, that way he would be able to verify what he saw. Feeling himself calm, he focused on Arthur's 6th birthday. Sights and senses overwhelmed him, feeling returning suddenly and rapidly. 

A small blonde boy runs around, dressed in a frilly red suit. Floating candles are littered around the room, along with giant red balls, floating on air. The child is in wonder. Around him are several other children, all scampering about, dressed in all different kinds of suits. There were some girls to the side as well, longing to join in but confined by their frilly dresses, some showing disdain at the dirty actions of the males. 

 Jonathan smiled. Arthur was a cute prince when he was younger, but he wanted something more substantial. Guessing dates wouldn't get him anywhere, so he pushed his thought process into the future, or closer to the present. Arthur's face grew before his eyes. Suddenly, Jonathan felt a pull. Something important was happening in Arthur's life. He immediately stopped moving. 

The same blonde boy, slightly older, is standing in a blue suit in front of a maid. He's giggling, and she's trying to take off his shoes. 

Finally, she asks. "Pardon me, your majesty, but what is so hilarious?" 

 "I was just thinking about Keenan. He's so pretty!" giggles the boy, holding his hands up to his mouth to try and stop himself. 

The maid tries to suppress a smile. "Do you have a crush on him?" she asks him timidly. 

Arthur nods his head, too giddy to talk properly. 

 She grins, and finally gets a shoe off. "You're going to disappoint the princesses, you know."

Arthur pouts a little. "That's fine with me, girls are annoying anyways. They're always complaining." 

The maid frowns. "Not all women are like that, your highness. Some women are very kind and intelligent." 

"Not the ones I know," refutes the arrogant boy. 

She sighs as she pulls off the other shoe. "Well, you're free to go," she says, waving him off. 

Arthur runs off without a care in the world. 

Jonathan thought that was interesting. Very interesting. He looked at the maid's face again, and felt the alluring power of an important event again. He decided to follow her. 

The maid walks down several corridors, following them easily, while others might find them a maze. Eventually she ends up in a much bigger hallway, filled with tapestries and decorations. She knocks submissively at a doorway, waiting for a confirmation before she can enter. 

"Come in," bellows a strong male voice. 

She enters, and bows immediately, not getting up until the man commands she raise her head.

"Your majesty, your son has just informed me he romantically takes to males," she says calmly.

"That's wonderful to know, we must let the court know immediately," he responds cheerfully. "Suitors must be prepared at once. I would prefer it if you would keep this a secret until I've publicly announced it though," he states firmly. 

The maid nods her head and takes her leave of the room, the alluringness of importance dripping off her and onto the king. He gets up and quickly walks down another set of hallways. Eventually reaching what looks like a large dorm, he enters quickly, rapping on the door only briefly. Inside stands a tall man, though not as tall as the king. His hair is a pure white color, and his skin nears the same brilliance. With long, straight hair that reached his shoulders, the man gives off an aura of confidence, only second to that of the king. 

"Bartholomew, I knew you would be up here! I have exciting news!" roars the king. 

The man, wearing robes full of the royal church's symbol, a circle with a line vertically running through it, walks over to the king. "Do tell," he exclaims. 

"My son has revealed his romantic interests. He seems to be taken by the men, like his uncle," the king states proudly. 

The old man's eyes widen. "No, that can't be!" he yells, grabbing his head. The king immediately looks concerned. 

"What is it, what's wrong?" he asks. 

"Amos, the god of love, spoke to me not a day ago." He pauses. "He discouraged all relationships of the same gender, going so far to say that any found guilty of the view should be imprisoned and punished!" 

The king nearly gasps. "This is awful news, are you sure you heard it correctly? My son can't be imprisoned!" 

 The old man nods. "I am the high priest of this church. I have worked my way up through the ranks, I have proven myself to countless others. There is no way I heard this incorrectly. I'm sorry your majesty, but the gods have decreed it," he claims solemnly. 

The king's face turns grave. "No one is to know about my son. We release this news, carry out the divine orders, but my son stays safe. He is the crown prince and my only son, he can't be compromised." 

The high priest nods, a somber look on his face. They part ways immediately, and the importance of the situation fades. 

Jonathan began to lose focus, and the shapes began to vanish. He was gasping for air when he realized he was lying back on his bed, sweating and cold at the same time. 

 "Jon! I'm so gla... um. You're back!" yelled Arthur. "I've never seen someone actually do it before, I should've told you more, I'm sorry—I don't know if my voice got through to you, I'm just glad it was so short—"

"How long was it?" inquired Jonathan. 

"Only about three minutes," replied Arthur. 

"Really? It felt like longer." 

 "Well I'm glad it wasn't, I was so w—bored. I was so bored waiting for you," claimed Arthur, a small tinge of red climbing up his cheeks. "Anyways, what did you see?" he asked excitedly in a lower voice. 

 Jonathan hesitated. "It was black at first, but I heard you talking, and I focused on a time and person."

"When and who?"

"You and your sixth year..."

"What?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to focus on myself... you know why."

"Why six?" questioned the prince, his hand twitching slightly. 

"It's a nice number," Jonathan answered abstractly. 

 "What did you see?" asked Arthur seriously, more of a command than a request. It was obvious he was worried. Jonathan probably knew the reason why. He didn't want Jonathan to know that he liked men. He still didn't get why it was a big deal. It obviously had happened recently, so why there was such a big following was beyond his reasoning. Perhaps it was because of the church. 

 Jonathan couldn't lie. "I saw you, at a party. Then... I moved forward in time. I felt something drawing me in, like there was something important happening. You were with your maid—"

 Arthur stood up. "Stop right there. I know what you saw, and I think you know the trouble you're in now too," he stated, rage climbing into his voice, along with a tint of fear. 

 The shorter boy stood up as well. "Wait—I don't care about that; you know I'm from the north—" 

 "That doesn't change anything! It's the fact that you know, you could be killed for that alone!" he exclaimed, pacing the floor. 

"Arthur, please calm down, I won't tell anyone, I am t—" 

 Suddenly Arthur stopped. "Jon, I don't know why, but I trust you." He paused, taking a breath. "It's not like that, I swear. I have it under control. But you—you're so honest, I can't help it. You're so naïve, even with all the... awful things that happened to you. I even told you about my magic problem, and that alone is another incriminating piece of knowledge," he stated sternly. 

Jonathan looked up at the prince, his eyes wide. The prince's eyes were open wide too, though they didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular. They were a beautiful color, a rich blue. He was worried, his eyebrows furrowed and his face turning red. 

"Jonathan, I need your help."

"Anything," he replied, a little too quickly. 

"I want you to be my court magician."

"Why?" he asked out of pure curiosity. 

 "I need someone to help me. I don't want to hurt you, but you can't just go free now that you know. Besides, the court magician already knows all of this, so you would need to know anyways. Also, the crown prince and soon-to-be king can't be an impotent mage. So, here's my proposition." He took a deep breath. "Become the court magician for me, and help me hide my magic and my... interests, and I'll keep you safe. Do we have a deal?" he asked nervously. 

Jonathan nodded, smiling. "I knew there was a reason I was destined for this job," he commented.

 Arthur was a little confused, but accepted it. "Well," he started, "Let's focus on me now, shall we?"