I was on the ground looking up at that man, trying to remember how I ended up here.

The book I had just borrowed, laying on the ground.

Falling in the only mud puddle in a 20-yard radius.

"Really now…" I sighed. Brunz wouldn’t let me borrow books again.

“Hey!” Red-eye said as he glared at me. “Look at me!”

Without thinking — still out of it — I followed his order.

BAM, he kicked again, sending my body twirl in the air.

This was the first time I had ever been happy about wearing that damned helmet.

“You could have gone on your merry way,” He spat.

“You could have kept your head down and moved along,”

“But — “he propped me before hitting me in the stomach with his chained fist.

This single hit made me wonder if he had been playing before.

Right there, I puked.

The next hit came for the head, caving the helmet in and nicking my lower left eye.

Hahaha. I chuckled.

Am I about to die?

Really?

I broke down in a fit of laughter.

The air didn’t reach my brain anymore.

N-n-no way. I can’t die like this.

No, no way.

I couldn’t breathe, but as if my body itself couldn’t accept death, I avoided the next hit and somehow shook myself off his grasp.

Putting my head down while closing my eyes; catching my breath.

I had to stop myself from vomiting again, and the man with red eyes stayed away as if disgusted.

I stared at him. All manners of curses flying in my mind, but no way to express them.

I walked towards the puddle. I had not yet learned any proper spell, but I knew just how to screw a spell enough to create a backfire without killing myself; my eyes making that a cinch.

I’ll mess you up.

I trudged towards the mud puddle, fire in my eyes.

I had enough of being thrown around; I had enough of being life’s punching ball.

I’ll mess you up.

This is gonna hurt, but I’ll mess you up.

I said as I picked the besmirched book.

Despite my anger, however, I calmed down. At least, as much as it was possible to calm down after what had happened.

Around us, civilians that had gathered were now dispersing.

You wastes, peel your eyes!

Life here was so uneventful that when one wasn’t working, they would look for entertainment outside. Thus, it seems these kinds of shows represented a kind of novelty to the civilians.

With the mud that was there, I started drawing symbols in both hands. As much as possible. It didn’t need to be complicated.

The simpler the better.

Watching me getting pummeled makes you laugh?

Hahaha, I’ll show you something a thousand times more entertaining.

Once that was done, I walked toward the wall and rested the muddied book.

“Hey, Red-eye!” I said, loud enough to rupture my lungs.

“Uh?” The man who had already begun to leave, turned back at me.

Anyone that was watching must have thought I had a death wish, and to be fair, there might have been some truth to that. But now, I just wanted revenge.

“You waste, you think you can get away with disfiguring a Balmung like that?”

“Hahaha, the crows? You? This midget is actually delusional.”

“Yea, keep laughing. You don’t amount to the mud under my feet,”

“....”

“I wonder what’ll happen to you? Don’t expect to live to tell the tale.”

“Uh yeah… I don’t want to hear it.” He said as he turned back.

Despite him turning his back, I continued, my voice growing louder as he grew farther.

“Oh yeah? How about that?”

“Yeah yes, you’ll get attached to the dungeon while the executioner slowly but surely rips your nails out and peels your skin ever so subtly...”

The places I went surprised even myself.

“Then once done, they’ll leave you in a humid room without food for your injuries to fester, and to give you plenty of time to regret sullying that name.”

“Then.. then... how about that?” I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence, that I was in the air.

“Hey brat, there are limits to stupidity, you know?”

With my empty hand, I gave him the most glorious finger and watched his mana rouse inside.

His eyes turned red again.

Bingo.

That ticked off. There was no way he’d notice my shenanigans.

With that done, I tried to extirpate myself from his grip.. or at least so it looked. I pressed my hand against his wrist.

Once.

Bang

Twice.

Bang

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Thrice.

Bang

A fourth time.

Bang

My head was rattled back with every hit, and my vision dimmed, but I kept pressing.

After having placed the last glyph, the last needed to create the mana backflow flashed in my mind.

There.

My right hand was unsteady, and I could barely see — but what I saw was enough.

I don’t know how long it took, and I don’t know how many hits I had taken, but I was there.

Th-

Th...

Ther-

“STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”

A resounding voice yelled.

Uh?

Someone hurried toward us.

“Sorry, I do not know what that child has done, but p-p-please spare him.”

Wait Gregoire? N-n-no, leave me alone, I am abou--

I didn’t have time to finish my thought that the man threw me away.

And I landed face first against the ground.

Realizing Gregoire had ruined my plan, I cursed him inside and waited for my executioner.

I had lost again.

To my surprise again, the seconds piled on but nothing happened.

I couldn’t see him, but it seemed that whatever Gregoire had done was enough to disgust the man for good.

The last thing I saw before fainting was Gregoire’s worried face and a suspicious trace of dirt on his forehead.

Hah.

You ruined it.

#

It took me 2 weeks to recover enough to read, and 6 months for me to do a complete recovery — Gregoire’s master holding true to his word.

I had somehow cheated death, and escape with a scar underneath my left eye — that and a new helmet.

It went without saying that I was confined to the maid house from there on.

Gregoire unwilling to take the risk of this happening ever again. It didn’t help that I had invoked the name of the Balmungs out there, and thus that if I was seen walking around, it’d send a troublesome message. The bright side was that I didn’t have to explain what had happened to Brunz. But it also meant I didn’t see Brunz again.

3 years passed after that event.

I was now eleven.

Reading and journaling were my only pastimes

Paper and ink, my only friends.

I had finished the first three books on the series of Cores and learned a few more spells.

After a while, when I concluded I had probably got all the urgent knowledge that this series could provide me, I cast the net wider and started reading about general topics, the history of weapons, the mechanics behind their functioning; the art of poisoning, how to identify comestible vs noncomestible foods, the most thorough bestiary I could get my hands on, etc, etc.

It was through it that I discovered the intricate differences between different mana creatures.

While mana creatures were all connected to mana in some way, they were ranked at different levels, depending on their proficiency with it — which correlated with intelligence.

At the lowest rung of the ladder, you had “mana critters”. They were mostly any animal who didn’t use mana in any discernible way. They could be dangerous when in a pack or if the individual of the species were remarkably big, but typically, they were not a threat. Their body was tough however, and hunting them without at least coating one's self in mana was difficult. Still, these were typically the beasts that would end up in farms.

Then right above, we had “Mana Beasts”. These were creatures whose usage of mana could be observed. Their level of intelligence was noticeably higher and could actually be a threat. In the current relatively peaceful era, when soldiers weren’t on the front for an unproductive kerfuffle, they were doing population control on these. Despite being called beasts, the more intelligent among them were actually comparable to a human child.

Finally, above them, there were Pseudo-Beasts. They were any creatures whose appearance would categorize them as beasts, but whose intelligence was such that they could be compared to adult humans, often even smarter.

These, however, were really rare and were not to be messed with. One such species was the Emperor Crow; a telltale sign of Pseudo-beasts was the title of emperor appended to their names.

Despite how much I hated Gregoire, him borrowing these books in my stead made these 3 years more bearable.

To my surprise, Brunz, instead of being angry at me, had delivered through Gregoire, a Glass Dip Pen, and a treasure: a book about Magic Artefacts.

A form of applied scriptural magic.

I had read it, read it and read it again. The subject was thoroughly interesting and had a lot of potential. Even though it was surface level, the ideas were exciting.

As for the pen? It had become my favorite writing instrument.

I wasn’t exactly writing masterpieces, but knowing that he cared enough about me to send me these things made my heart a little lighter.

In this place, there were exactly 2 people I’d miss if I were to leave.

Mom and Brunz.

These thoughts had been lurking in my mind for a while now, but they were growing stronger and stronger.

I wanted to escape this bird cage.

No way in hell I’d live the rest of my days here.

I wrote two letters.

One to Brunz; a simple letter of apology and a thank you.

And one to mom; a censored recount of my adventures at the maid house, my discoveries, my successes, nothing but the positives.

I even exaggerated a bit, all so that she wouldn’t worry, all so that she’d feel proud.

Don’t worry, mom, I am holding strong!

A part of me couldn’t help but think that maybe she too wouldn’t care about me anymore.

But I didn’t brood on the thought deeper, lest I truly lose all hope.

Once that was done, I put the letter in an envelope. A homemade one, made with the paper lying around and decorated as best as I could with the ink I had.

Once the last drop was put on paper.

I had decided.

I’m getting out of here.

##

I had been planning this for a few months now.

And had already figured out how to remove the helmet.

However, I had kept it on for two reasons: the first, was that I was still at the manor; the second, was because I had grown accustomed to it — I was afraid of removing it now.

Having my face hidden from the world like that was soothing.

Clearly, I wouldn’t be able to keep wearing this helmet for long. It was getting stuffy in there.

I sighed.

I’d think about that matter another time.

Back to the plan.

It wasn’t a super complicated plan

I knew that tomorrow would be the delivery date for goods ordered by Gregoire the week before.

I had stashed a few essentials into a bag procured by Gregoire. Not a backpack as it would have made my endeavor too obvious, but a simple leather bag — so that I could store my notes.

It wasn’t convenient to carry around, but it was big enough to hold everything I needed.

Mostly paper and leather, along with the schemes and insights I wrote during these past 5 years. I didn’t know how or when they’d pay off, but I refused to believe that all these 5 years of effort had been for naught.

No, they had already yielded some measure of result, but there had to be a more satisfying solution.

If not now, one day. It’d pay off one day.

Tomorrow, I’d escape.

[…]

The next day arrived: the day of deliveries.

And Gregoire left the room locked as usual.

I couldn’t quite ask him to go with him. After all, no matter how docile I had been, if he had a brain he’d realize why I’d want to follow him today of all days. Arguably, I could have just asked another day and played the long game to not arouse his suspicions — but I didn’t want to see their faces.

Maybe I was overthinking it, but I didn’t want to risk it.

As he left the room, I started counting.

When it had been 10 minutes.

I approached the window.

Obviously, the lock on it made opening it complicated.

But so what?

I’d break it.

I took my glass pen and stored it in my leather bag, carefully. Beforehand, taking the time to wrap it in ample layers of paper.

Then I pulled out Gregoire’s feather. And started sketching on the window.

The ink didn’t adhere well, but once the character was drawn, the mana in the air held it in place quite well.

It wasn’t quite a spell; it was more exact to call it the symptom of a misspell.

Mana backflow.

The same thing I tried using in my confrontation with the red eye. The issue with the mana contingencies was troublesome, but using my eyes, I could see where mana accumulation was the weakest and put a random symbol there. 9 times out of 10, this was enough to imbalance the circle and create a mana backflow (usually also destroying the pen).

I wrote in the bottom left corner, and then the top right, and then the center, and then the bottom right, etc, etc.

This intricate process took me a solid 5 minutes, avoiding contingencies so that I could write. Any basic spell form could be used for that process, so I used the first light spell I learned.

Once everything that could be written without encountering contingencies was drawn, I scanned the window for the weakest mana conflations.

I hummed to myself.

'“hmmmmmmmmmmm”

Until…

“Bingo.”

A zone with almost no resistance.

I wrote a symbol there.

With 764 to choose from, any would do the job, I thought.

“Here we go!” I drew the symbol and stepped back as quickly as possible; hiding under the bed.

The mana circle vibrated, as it so often did during mana backflows before halting.

“Uh?”

“Well..”

"Anticlimactic," I thought as I walked towards the window again.

I scanned the window for another point and repeated the procedure. It was harder this time.

It vibrated

It vibrated

IT VIBRATED.

Crck

CRA

CRACK

A crisp noise of broken glass followed by a succession of crystalline shrieks.

When there were no noises anymore, I emerged from under the bed and looked at the window. I couldn’t help myself. I jumped in joy.

YES!

IT WORKED!

I took the covers from my bed and made again an artisanal rope — taking extra care not to cut myself on the glass shards.

The ground seemed much closer than last time, so there was absolutely no fear in my heart as I abseiled down to the ground.

“Here we go!” I said with my voice loud, fairly confident that no one would see me here.

Then, after making sure I had everything, I walked toward the parked cars.

There were many.

Many to choose from.

But one caught my attention. A cart drawn by Herdrics, a species of carnivorous quadrupedal organisms with long necks and 2 pairs of crooked horns.

The choice was obvious. A plethora of boring old horses or a cart pulled by Herdrics!

I tiptoed, eyes darting side to side as I made sure not to be seen by any prying eyes.

Then I turned around the cart. I was wondering where I would hide, but when I arrived instead, there stood someone.

A man with a devilish half mask, and long gray hair.

When I arrived, he was looking in my direction.

And the words he said then made ants crawl up my scalp.

“I’ve been expecting you.”