Camelot moved closer to the unfinished canvas.
And at the same moment, the transparent brush in his hand flashed.
His fingers curled around the hilt of his own accord.
«The paintbrush won’t listen to me again.»
He took an involuntary step forward.
A strange feeling appeared inside Camelot.
He knew what he had to do.
Although he had never seen this painting before.
Camelot slowly raised his brush to the canvas.
«Camelot!» said Arthur sharply.
He stopped.
«What?»
«Don’t touch it.»
Camelot looked at the brush.
The golden light grew brighter.
«I do not know why…»
He looked at the painting again.
The white part of the canvas seemed to attract his gaze.
«But I know what should be here.»
The Counselor came closer.
«Are you sure?»
Camelot shook his head.
«No.»
He took another step.
«But the brush is sure.»
A thin golden dot appeared on the surface of the canvas.
Camelot touched her.
And at that moment, the world around him disappeared.
He saw an endless field, the city, a people running through the streets, the black sun in the sky, the artist.
An old man in the clothes of the Canham family.
He was standing in front of this very painting and crying.
“I didn’t have time…”
The vision was gone.
Camelot inhaled sharply.
His hand was still on the canvas.
The first golden line appeared on the white area.
Gradually, even more golden lines began to fall on the canvas.
The brush moved by itself.
But this time, Camelot didn’t resist.
And with each movement, it became clearer: He didn’t create this picture.
He was finishing it.
The grimoire opened behind him.
The pages began to flip by themselves.
[The work of an unknown master has been discovered.
]
[ Status: Not completed.
]
[ Connection to the Canham family: absolute.
]
[ Continued is required.
]
The last line appeared slower than the others.
[A new skill is awakening.
]
[ Magic Art: Classified.]
The golden paint lay on the surface so easily, as if it was waiting for this very movement.
He no longer thought about where the hand was going.
I didn’t try to understand the technique.
He did not remember what he had been taught.
He was just painting.
Each line appeared where it should have appeared.
Each new stroke was combined with the previous one, turning the individual fragments into a single image.
And gradually Camelot realized what exactly he was painting.
It was the Canham family tree.
In the center was the first ancestor.
Branches spread out from it.
One by one, the figures of men and women appeared, generations followed generations.
Some of the faces were clear.
Others have almost been erased by time.
But thin golden symbols appeared above each generation.
Magical arts.
Discoveries. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
Stories.
Secrets.
Even the Canhams, whom the current family had long forgotten, were gradually returning to the picture.
Arthur stood motionless.
He stared at the tree, and his expression grew heavier and heavier.
«This name is not in the family books…»
Camelot did not respond.
He continued to draw.
The last branch was supposed to connect with the current generation.
With Camelot, the brush stopped.
For a moment, the whole world froze.
And then the golden line made the connection itself.
FLASH.
The workshop was flooded with blinding light that made Camelot recoil.
The picture disappeared before his eyes, but instead a memory appeared.
In the past, the world was different, where the sky was the color of crimson ashes.
Huge clouds covered the sun.
Cities were burning.
The towers were collapsing.
People were running through the streets, and a giant black shadow stretched over them.
There was a Black Sun in the center of the sky.
It didn’t shine.
It absorbed the light.
Rings of unknown magic revolved around him, and the space next to him seemed to lose its shape.
Camelot stared at the scene, unable to move.
He saw a man.
A young man in long artist’s clothes.
There was a brush in his hand.
But it wasn’t an ordinary brush.
It was made of something that looked like silver light.
There was a woman standing in front of him, it was his beloved.
There were other people around her.
They were screaming.
The man was trying to get to them.
But a black wall had already appeared between them.
No!
He rushed forward, but it was too late.
Black energy covered the square.
The woman disappeared first.
Then, one by one, the others disappeared.
The man fell to his knees.
The brush fell out of his hand.
No…
He didn’t cry like a great magician that day.
Not like a legendary artist.
Just like a man who has just lost everything he holds most dear.
I did not make it in time…
Camelot felt his heart tighten.
The Divine Master.
He knew immediately who it was.
The same man whose name had survived the centuries, whose paintings were considered legendary, whose works the current Canhams considered only ancient artifacts.
But before Camelot, there was no great master.
There was a man who lost.
He raised his head to the sky.
The Black Sun has almost completely engulfed the world.
And then the Divine Master stopped crying.
He got up slowly, with difficulty.
He raised his brush.
I couldn’t save you…
His voice was trembling.
But I won’t let him take the others.
He created a huge canvas out of magic.
Right in the middle of a ruined city.
And he began to draw.
The brush was moving at such a speed that the human eye could no longer follow it.
He wasn’t painting a picture, it was a print.
Each line became part of a huge magic circle.
The ground shook.
The sky split.
The Black Sun changed its direction for the first time and turned towards the Divine Master.
You…
The voice came from all directions simultaneously.
The Divine Master clenched his hand.
You have nothing else to do here.
The black energy surged towards him.
He finished the finishing touch.
BOOM.
The world exploded with golden light.
A huge seal rose from the ground and closed around the Black Sun.
The darkness resisted.
Destroyed mountains.
Tearing up space.
But the seal was getting stronger.
I will not destroy you…
The Divine Master was breathing heavily.
I’ll just send you to a place where no one can hear your voice.
The Black Sun began to fade.
Before it was swallowed by the seal, it said:
I’ll be back…
The Divine Master watched the darkness disappear into the distance.
I know.
He lowered his brush.
Therefore, I will leave behind those who can finish what I started.
His gaze fell on the family tree he had drawn.
Generations appeared on it.
One by one, the Canhams, the artists, the story seekers.
People who were supposed to see things that the average person didn’t notice.
But then the image wavered.
The Divine Master found himself alone again.
There were empty spaces in front of him where his family used to be.
He touched the image of his beloved with his hand and began to cry again.
Forgive me…
The memory began to fade.
Camelot abruptly opened his eyes in front of the painting.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
He didn’t even notice when he started crying.
There was absolute silence in the workshop.
Arthur was looking at the family tree.
Eleanor covered her mouth with her hand.
Even the Council members didn’t say a word.
Camelot looked at the last section of the painting.
There was one empty branch, right next to his name.
And suddenly, an inscription appeared on the canvas.
“The Black Sun is sealed.
But not destroyed.”
Followed by the second line.
“When the seal loosens, history will repeat itself.”
Camelot slowly squeezed the transparent brush, it no longer glowed.
And then the silver grimoire opened.
[The main task has been updated.
]
[ “The Shadow That Belongs To The Artist Chanhams Family” ]
[The hidden story has been discovered.
]
[ The Canham family’s past has been restored.
]
[ Divine Master: detected.
]
[ Black Sun: the condition is sealed.
]
[ Location of the seal: classified.
]
Camelot looked at the painting.
Now he understood why Black Sun was afraid of the return of the Canham gift.
And why Tatiana said that their ancestors weakened some kind of unbridled force.
The Canhams didn’t just paint magical paintings.
They were looking for stories.
They found things that should have remained hidden.
And once their ancestor had already stopped the end of the world.
But he paid for it to everyone he loved.
Camelot looked at his name on the family tree.
And for the first time, he realized that being the Canham heir meant something completely different from what he had been told.