Sustaining The King's Life 63 Something Wrong

It took two days of the voyage at sea before reaching the capital of Zuerst. It was early in the morning when Faustina, Lucas, Orwell, and Maddie reached the front port that resides in the outskirts of the capital. Faustina clapped her hand and exhaled through her palms.
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"Nervous, m'lady?" Maddie asks.

"K-kind of," Faustina answers.

"Don't worry, m'lady; even if you haven't gone out in social gatherings and such, your appearance is definitely that of a Feuerlon." Says Maddie. "So brighten up. We are here for you."

Faustina tried to smile, but cannot. She found it odd, almost amazing even, how such mere incantations managed to slip through memories that looked like dreams she never had; moments that never occurred yet known, unfamiliar familiar places and people—it's as if she was living two different lives.

But she knew what was real.

She found herself staring longer at Maddie longer than she intended, given that her maid tilted her head sidewards as if baffled. Faustina was lost in thought once again, caught between the period of reminiscing and inquiry. "M'lady, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Maddie," Faustina says as strands of her grey hair fall into the side of her face. "Don't worry about me. I'm just a bit... nervous."

Maddie smiled. "Do you need a time alone, M'lady?"

"If it's okay?"

"I'll just pack up our things and meet with the others outside," says Maddie. "We'll be going after a while, miss."

**

The king sent the letter to Abe right after the day he sent another from Orwell. The letters were fairly informative, and they only served as simple guides—like a history book that displays a variety of places, cultures, and practices. The king did not give a message pertaining directly to her, but he wrote her pieces of information that might serve to be useful in her times of need. He also sent her a small leather journal that he said he had years ago when he was just ascending to the throne. The handbook was a compilation of the combination of useful spells, random doodles, and footnotes Faustina cannot understand.

'This journal is a small memento that I had when I was bedridden,' the king says in the letter, 'and when I ventured outside, I had the privilege to fill it with things that I think would be useful to me, and now I pray they will help you as well.'

"But I don't understand more than half of these," Faustina mumbles to herself.

She packed her things to her trunk, and sat by the mattress. Below the bed, she picked up a wooden staff—her medium of magic. Unlike before, it did not radiate a cyan glow; the gem fragment was in a dull color of turquoise now, the marks on the staff unlit. Faustina stared intently through her chocolate-brown eyes—indeed she DOES contain a magical potential—

But why does none of this feel real to her? Why does she feel as if there's something wrong—no, there is a 'thing' inside of her she cannot discern quite fully. She held the staff with a tight grip, and then tried to remember a spell.

"Meridiem," she chants.

There was no response.

She frowned, "meridiem." no glowing. "meridiem, meridiem, meridiem."

The spell was supposed to be a minor spell that just gives light to the patters of the staff and the gem; the incantation was just a spell that could be done by anyone that possess a magical ability. It consumes a bit of mana from the body and it concentrates the mana to light.

Why can't she cast a simple spell?

Faustina sighed, and took a deep breath.

What is wrong with her?