The cabinet meeting ended well enough. The next was the Scribe. The Scribe that was an hour late. So was she, now that the meeting ran long. The two would get along splendidly.

The Scribe, an old man, appeared in front of her with a young man in servant's clothes beside him. The old man wasn't quite ugly to look at, but he wasn't pretty either. A patchwork of different colors of skin marred his face, a part of it looking like it had been burned. The effect was…not pleasing.

Perhaps it had been burnt. Althea was sure there were people that had tried to assassinate a Scribe.

"I welcome Viscount Telstey to the Diery county." Althea said, trying to keep her expression neutral.

The Scribe simply walked past her and into the palace. Althea blinked in surprise. What had just happened?

"Master isn't used to conversations in his old age. I hope the Countess does not mind." the young man that came with the Scribe said. So he was his apprentice. Althea reassessed. The assistant of a Scribe was a Scribe himself. That made him the second Scribe of the royal family, the one in training. The third was with the Selorian Duchy.

"Not at all." Althea replied, putting a fake smile on her face. The Scribe was far from the first person who was rude to her. Heck, he was practically polite compared to some people in her last life.

Althea turned around towards the palace, and stopped.

"Do you…know where your master might have gone?" she asked. The apprentice scratched his head.

"I- the servants must have seen him go," he replied.

"Yes, they must have." Althea said, pivoting towards the nearest servant.

"Do you know where Viscount Telstey went?" she asked.

"I-I am new, your grace." the servant's eyes were wide as he replied.

"Old, white hair, walks with a cane?"

"Oh, he went towards the interior, your grace." So towards her bedroom.

"Thank you." Althea said to the servant before turning to the apprentice. "Come on."

The apprentice matched her pace as she power walked into her room. The Scribe was waiting at the gate, Anthony staring at him with his arms crossed.

"Viscount Telstey. " Althea stated. "I see you found my bedroom. Would you like to come in?"

Althea winked at Anthony as they stepped in. The Emperor's guard, but the glare he gave the Scribe told her how he felt about him.

Althea, for her part, had no idea what was up with him. Meandering straight to her bedroom was certainly strange behavior.

The Steward appeared from somewhere, stepping in behind her. The Scribe frowned at him.

"Steward of the Empire." The Scribe stated.

"Scribe of the Empire. Are you going to use your usual tricks? "The Steward replied in his monotone voice.

" I will do as I wish. " The Scribe replied. "The late Countess once requested that I copy a few manuals for her. A few manuals that were not the Diery manual. Now I see that you have found another way to get what you want. "

"I assure you, Viscount, that nothing of the sort is taking place. The manuals are simply to allow my county to face its enemies. "

"Oh, is that so? How many does the Countess want then?" he asked.

"Thirty." she replied.

"The Countess can have them thirty days after you deliver the money. In gold." he replied, getting up.

Althea's lips twitched. The Steward had to know that she could not afford that delay.

"Viscount Telstey, Scribe of the Empire, I am in need of your aid. I know you know that. Tell me your price" Althea said, deciding to get to the point. The Scribe had too much of an advantage in noble speech.

The Scribe paused. "The Diery manual. The old one. I want to take a look at it."

"No." Althea replied, even without thinking. The manual was too precious. A Scribe could make copies. And she could not risk that.

"Then we are done. The Countess can have the gold and manual delivered." The Scribe began walking again.

"Master, this-" the apprentice began, but his master had made up his mind.

"Keep quiet, Fer." the Scribe ordered, walking out.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Scribe of the Empire?" Althea asked.

"Back to threats I see. Truly your mother's daughter." the Scribe said. "But unless you can find me another manual for land mana, you will have to make do, Countess Guarding Diery. I am not one of those fools blinded by your titles or your mother's fame. Do not presume to threaten me."

The Scribe nearly walked out by the time Althea reacted.

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"I can do that." she replied. The Scribe stopped.

"I do not appreciate lies, Countess. Are you telling me that you have a manual for land mana that you are willing to give to me?" the Scribe asked.

"Give? No. But I can allow you to use it." Althea said. "In fact, it was the one I wanted you to copy."

The Scribe's eyes narrowed. "The Countess could not use land mana. I would have known if she could."

Althea rolled her eyes and called on land mana, letting it revolve around her. And then she called on sun mana. And then she combined them, spinning them as she started absorbing them into her core.

The mana coiled around her as she asked the Scribe. "Can you tell now?"

The Scribe, for his part, was frowning. "Yes. Yes, I can." And then, taking a deep breath as if it pained him, "I will have the copies ready in ten days. I cannot do more than three a day."

Althea let the mana boom into a bigger spiral, and then swallowed it at once. The core let out a blast of light as it absorbed it, power rushing through her as she felt herself breakthrough to Apprentice 2. How appropriate.

The Scribe was escorted to the hall, where he began to copy the manual into an empty book. Althea watched the process with wide eyes. The element was unknown to her, but Pulsie would want to know.

"Is that a mana replication matrix?" she asked as she watched the Scribe draw lines in the air.

The Scribe tsked in reply, continuing without replying. A dance of swirling mana followed, a delicate dance that seemed to replicate every little position of mana on the manual onto the new one.

A pool of mana formed around the Scribe, but he continued without paying any attention to it. Althea tried to keep track, but the movements were too fast for her. Just barely in her range of detection. So she just closed her eyes and let her mind feel at the matrix. The spell was very, very complex.

In theory, she could do it too, but it would take several years of study to even copy simple spells. To copy entire manuals… Perhaps there was a reason for the Scribe's arrogance.

"I think I will be able to copy more today." the Scribe said, doing the spell again. Althea just watched as he performed the spell, not once but seven times in a row.

The Scribe looked pale and exhausted by the end, barely able to stand even with his cane.

"Perhaps you could stay here." Althea suggested. The Scribe grunted something in reply.

"Viscount Telstey would be glad to accept the Countess' offer." his apprentice said. The Scribe mumbled something, something that probably wasn't very polite. Althea just rolled her eyes. There was a story there, she was sure. The Scribe had said that her mother had threatened him.

What a strange thing for the late Countess to do. That was not the impression she had of her, but then again. The old Althea did not exactly spend a lot of time with her.

----------------------------------------

The Scribe got to work at dawn the next day. Althea barely made it in time to see him do two more manuals. The experience was…humbling. And she had ideas about mana that she wanted to try now.

"I thank the Viscount Telstey for his aid." Althea said to the Scribe as he left, gold in hand. The Scribe just looked at her. And then handed her an envelope.

"The Empress did not want you to have this." the Scribe said, looking a bit hesitant. "I disagree."

And then the cranky old man was gone, leaving her standing with an envelope in her hand.

An envelope that said The Last Word of Mia Diery, Countess of Diery. The Last Word. A message nobles left for their heirs in case they died in battle. Althea had been told that the Countess hadn't had time to write one. Not even a simple 'I love you'.

But here it was. A letter. The goodbye that the old Althea had wanted.

Althea returned to her room and opened the envelope.

> Dear Daughter,

>

> I hope you do not think me cruel to write this, but I must. The day you were born was the day of the Silverbrich festival. The day mana is at its peak. I believe that the day we are born has a direct impact on our personality. I have seen that come true in you, in Nerusia and even myself.

Ok. So far so good. This was not the goodbye Althea had hoped, but it was something.

> So I hope you will understand when I ask you to give up your position to your brother. Even now, in labor I can see the sky. A once in a millennia storm, an enemy at our gates and a time of great war. This is when your brother will be born. This is what the Diery family needs.

>

> A warrior with the power of the storms, not…you. I do not wish to use these words for my own daughter, but I must. I have observed you since before you even walked, and even then you were weak. The stairs scared you. The darkness was your nightmare.

>

> I am sorry, daughter, I cannot leave the family with you. The Diery family will fall in your hands. Please, listen to me for the final time. There is a way for you to-

>

>  

The rest of the letter was lost as fire burnt it, mana responding to her emotions. The wind blew softly. The earth vibrated in tandem. The fire seemed to be looking at her with worry. The water was rippling. And tears streamed down her face.

If she had any doubt the old Althea was inside her, she didn't anymore. The reaction told her what she did not want to know.

Now she knew why the Empress didn't want her to read the letter. The old Althea would have been crushed by it. The new one wasn't doing too well either. There was too much of the old one in her. There were feelings within her that she didn’t even know. The feelings were back with a vengeance, coming unbidden from a forgotten corner of her mind.

An old hope, long deemed futile by her old self gave a dying, painful cry as something in her broke.

The water evaporated off her as she felt the air catch on fire. A strange power was revolving around her, fueling her as mana answered her call.

Althea turned to the garden, Pulsie was already watching her with concern. But no, that place was too delicate. No, she needed to get away. Go to another place. A place where she could let go. The training hall. There was one. An old, unused one. But it was there.

Althea stormed out of her room, the mana following her. The more she walked, the heavier each footstep grew, the more her power grew. The more her eyes glowed. Althea was sure of it. The maids were staring at her, walking away as if scared she would blow her anger at them.

Even the Steward seemed hesitant to approach her.

"The Empress wishes to-" he began.

"Tell her that I read the late Countess' Last Word." she said, not stopping at all.

Nathan stopped her on the second floor, two pots of soil in his hand.

"Not now." she told him, turning her face toward him. Nathan jolted back and let her pass.

The wind slammed the training hall's doors open, fire welcoming her. A step after another, her power consumed the hall, fire, wind, water, earth, and emotion emerging around her. Yes, that was it. Emotion. That was the power that fueled her now.

The walk had cooled her emotions to some extent. But the memories brought it right back. A wordless yell emerged from her as the fires grew high, consuming wind and water as they scorched the floor. The wordless yell turned into a scream as she expelled mana, the fires growing hotter as she expelled her anger right into them.

And then she cried. Cried for the little girl who had never experienced her parent's love. For the little girl that had already died once. For the little girl that may never be understood.

The fires ran out eventually. The mana eventually returned to her. Even core glowed right into Apprentice 3, but Althea was too far gone to notice.