"Old man?" Peony sat by his bedside calmly, hearing his usual headstrong demeanor in his voice, even though she couldn't see him clearly.
"Here I am, sitting in what could've been my deathbed, writing my succession letter. No doubt it will be considered the most scandalous succession letter to date, but… I do not feel the hesitation I once had. As I write this letter now, I can't help but remember the past. The bitter yet sweet taste of childhood. The warmth and love I received from my beautiful late spouse and my newborn child. The rough and tumble we encountered as I juggled my tasks as the headmage of Nobel College and a father. Spending my life traveling, studying the subjects I love, meeting my students, and teaching them with my heart and soul. Yet, as I write the succession letter of a guilty judge, I feel more at peace than I ever have before. This… this is what I've been waiting for all my life. For this single moment."
As he said this, he smiled. "To be human is to live a life experiencing all sorts of emotions, make mistakes, experience regrets, and embrace it all. All my life experiences shall be concentrated into this single letter now."
He took in a deep breath and exhaled as he signed the letter before reaching for the lighter. However, as he struggled, Peony readily reached over to carefully place the wax seal warmer set beside him and opened the beautiful box of wax blocks before him. He nodded with a smile before filling the wax warmer set with the right amount of blocks. Peony carefully lit the fire of the warmer set with a matchstick nestled within the large box it came with. As the wax melted, he picked up one of the beautifully woven dark blue ribbons and carefully pinned it onto the paper. As he picked up the holder full of melted wax, he poured it over the ribbon as he continued, "Peony, my youngest child of the three, I have imparted the knowledge you sought all those years ago. You've grown to become a wise leader and judge with a beautiful heart. As I walk down this path, I continue to pray for the brighter futures of my children, no matter how dark their paths shall become."
He quietly tied a long piece of blue ribbon around the rolled-up scroll as he smiled. "Finally, my time as the headmage shall come to a close. I have so many regrets, but I still have some time left. It is about time I finally come face to face with them, not as the headmage, but as Tropin Trill."
He finally fastened a beautiful purple and red emblem onto the ribbon before gently securing the scroll in his hands and passed it to Peony with a very familiar warm smile. "I leave Fleur City in your hands, my beloved students."
Peony nodded and politely took the scroll ceremoniously. "On behalf of the other two students, this one accepts your decision."
He let out a small sigh and smiled. "Finally, it has been done."
"Looks like the old man hasn't changed one bit. You're still as reckless as ever." Peony sighed in dismay as she quietly began performing acupuncture on his head. "Do you even remember how deadly it is to use so much mana in your condition?! I don't want to send a will any more than I want to send this dumb letter."
"Hahaha. Still as blunt and bold as ever." The old man laughed as others were surprised by Peony's words. "But you would do it."
"Don't spout ominous things." She gave him a look of disgust.
"Alas, this line of work doesn't suit you." The old man sighed wearily.
Peony raised a brow. She had always known her teacher to be an honest and upright man, even admitting his own mistakes and dishing out his own punishments for minor offenses that could easily be overlooked. However, to see him so settled with what he had to do, a relieved smile that would usually appear after he completed a punishment, was unusual. Even the tone of his voice now sounded as though he was either delirious from having to write such an important letter with his mana or was truly on his deathbed!
She opened her mouth with a sigh. "When someone has a long lifespan, they could either live with others who share a similar condition, live like a hermit, or be prepared to attend a lot of funerals and take on the responsibility of passing down important decisions. It's not my first time doing this."
Hearing this, the gargoyle felt a little pity for her. It was true that gargoyles had long lives. They could hardly remember when they were created. All they knew was sitting on top of the tower with the bell for ages, observing their human friends live and die—getting married, having children, attending their children's weddings, and eventually their own funerals, all from afar. At first, it didn't pain them. But as days, weeks, months, and years passed, the ache started to get to them. Some were affected more than others. So when they heard her say those words, they couldn't help but feel both sadness and surprise. For the first time, they heard someone with a similar burden express the same feelings despite having different duties.
"However, it's also not very healthy," her teacher responded.
The calmer one spoke up. "Tropin is right. This really isn't a very healthy line of work."
Peony tilted her head and continued, "I've noticed this amongst humans, but those who live past the life expectancy of their loved ones often shoulder the weight of passing on dying messages and wills. Trust and belief—these are what spur this action. What began as a way to ensure the safety of loved ones or the stability of their lives after death eventually became a custom adopted across races. Perhaps it was the fight over inheritance that sparked the creation of wills, or perhaps it was the other way around. Regardless, this practice continued for years, evolving into a ritual for passing down other major decisions. Mortals may not do this often, but for those with long life expectancies, it's a common occurrence if they're tied to others with shorter lifespans. In my world, it's a normal part of life. It's one of the reasons it's difficult for cultivators and mortals to coexist. As for this situation... it's hard to say if it was luck that kept the school and this tower out of the hands of those people, or if it's part of their plan. Either way, things look bleak right now."
"Hm... Looks like you're overthinking things again," her teacher chuckled. "It's good to be logical. But if you become too logical in these matters, where is the space for the heart to grow?"
Peony wanted to groan at this, but her teacher knew her well. She was reluctant to step back from diving into deep waters for the sake of those she cared about. Once she set her mind on something, it became an unchangeable fact in her eyes. He had thought about this for a while, hoping she'd grown, but as expected, those with long lifespans had a lot of time to mature. Perhaps he was being shortsighted, but he believed it was his duty to protect the few loved ones left to him. He sighed deeply before responding, "That's right. Speaking of decisions, there's one favor I need to ask of you."
"It's about that Rollo kid, isn't it?" Peony huffed in disdain.
"Oh? So you know about it already?" Tropin's dry smile never left his face.
"My work involves behind-the-scenes investigations. Naturally, I came across records of it." Peony scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "He's another one of your students, the one from the incident ten years ago."
Ten years ago…
A fire had suddenly broken out in the district. When authorities arrived, they found two victims. One was a young boy, around his early teens, traumatized. The other…
Was his younger brother, just a couple of years younger than him, lying dead and charred on the ground.
"That case is more complicated than it seems," Peony sighed wearily. "It was also around the time you disappeared."
Tropin nodded solemnly. "That day, I rushed back as soon as I heard about the boys. But I lost consciousness after my son picked me up. I didn't even get to tell him where to go before it happened."
"So when you woke up, you found yourself several years too late, and the first person you found was Rollo, tending to the tower outside your room. Then you secretly took his phone to call for help from the royal family… from me." Peony concluded.
"Right again." Tropin's dry smile returned before he continued, "That child has been through a lot and never sought proper treatment or solace. I had my friends gather information from that time and discovered everything. Flamme was always quiet, but gentle, even stepping up for me when others spoke harshly. He was brave, yet inflexible. I feared that this inflexible nature would become his weakness."
"Perhaps," Peony sighed. "When I saw him, he had become good at hiding his emotions. But if you want to understand a person's true feelings, all you really need is the ability to read their eyes. More than seventy percent of what they're feeling is there."
"He hates magic and magicians," Tropin sighed. "It's as if he's denying himself. His belief comes from—"
"Self-blame." Peony nodded.
"Self-blame?" the simple-minded gargoyle asked, confused.
"I see." The other gargoyle sighed in disappointment. "He must've been sought by his younger brother during the accident. If he was too horrified to move, his inflexible nature likely led him to blame himself."
Peony nodded. "A child is still naive, and mental growth comes with age. The concept of death at such a young age can traumatize or twist a person's personality. Some don't show those traits until they're adults. His childlike mind probably couldn't cope with the guilt of being a bystander during the accident, so he unconsciously shifted the blame onto the adults who only stood by and watched. Then, with the fire magic mishap leading to his brother's death, it's no wonder he hates magic—and magicians, including himself. The adults who could've helped were either not in the vicinity or simply froze in horror. His guardians and loved ones were struggling as it all happened. Hmph! It's as if the world wants to create another righteous judge…"