Tuesday, February 17, N.E. 807, 22:25
Olivia’s Bedroom, 3rd Circle, Royal Capital Arvas, Fredirin Kingdom.
Olivia Pine Fredirin.
Like my room back at the Citadel of the Pines, my room here, while being filled with the highest quality furniture and furnishings, was somewhat bland. With the exception of the stuffed animals. Actually, being a room I not only previously spent the greatest amount of time in, but also the room was located in an area that piled stress upon me, this room had far more stuffed animals.
I never really considered myself sentimental, but the lack of my amulet that I had worn for so long was… irritating.
The stuffed animals, while not exactly a perfect replacement, were fulfilling the same role. To an extent.
Frankly, I found the previous version of myself, with her reliance and near obsession with these stuffed animals, to be rather irritating.
All of that being said, my annoyance at my previous self did not prevent me from grabbing one of the numerous stuffed animals as I left the room.
In my arms, was Mr. Zlizvnikchlex, a name human mouths can never pronounce. Mr. Zliz as I shorted his name, had the body of a moth, or I guess a butterfly, the body was a dark green, and his wings were orange with pink dots. He would have been a normal butterfly by most standards, if not for the thick, foot-long tentacles that came out of his wings and body. There were ten in all.
A bit more than half of my stuffed animals were custom works. Someone ordered them and gave directions on generally what the animal should be. Gimmy was one for instance. Mr. Zliz was not.
Stuffed animals are similar to ragdolls, which are similar to dolls. Low-end dolls are made of wood, clay, bone, or other easily acquired materials, and they are crudely made. Higher quality ones are made out of ceramic, or at least finely carved materials. Dolls are basically toys at the low to mid-end, the high-end ones are generally considered works of art, and are not given to children to play with.
From the same basic origins, ragdolls are simply made figures, that instead of being made as durable toys out of hard materials, are made of cloth, usually rags, and while still toys, they are soft and can be cuddled with. They are essentially the same as normal dolls, but they’re softer.
While something like dolls and rag dolls has probably existed since the first toys were given to children, stuffed animals are a relatively new thing. Unlike the first two, which can be made in an hour or so from any random person, stuffed animals require a skilled craftsman to produce.
I can’t speak of the lower quality stuffed animals that the children of merchants and lower ranked nobles might get, but each of mine cost enough money to allow a family of five to live comfortable for at least half a year. From the outer coating to the inner one that holds the stuffing, to the stuffing itself, the whole process not only requires a skilled craftsman and very specific knowledge, but magic is also used to reinforce or make certain parts.
Mr. Zliz here, had a body made of silk, his insides were mostly cotton and wool, but his tentacles were made out of a magically generated material that was smooth and soft, but very light. All ten of his tentacles, while making up more than half of his body by volume, had less weight than a simple handkerchief.
Clearly, a large amount of work and effort went into making this thing, but the fact that it wasn’t a custom product, made me somewhat concerned about Mr. Zliz’s creator’s mind. Why did the creator think this… would be something someone would buy?
A better question? Why did the prior me buy it?
Well, despite the appearance, the tentacles were actually rather pleasant to squeeze.
As I mused about Mr. Zliz, I arrived at my destination, my brother, Timothy’s room.
Standing here, in front of the door to my new brother’s room, the most unpleasant mood suddenly overwhelmed me.
Here I was, a child, with a weak and frail human body, hugging a stuffed animal, nervous about sharing my ideas with a family member. How pathetic had I become?
“Olivia? Is that you?” My brother called out from within his room.
Of course, my brother was a knight in training, and I had made no effort to conceal my steps, so he obviously heard me.
Before I could muster a response, the heavy door, where my head only reached to around the area of the doorknob, swung open and revealed my brother in his pajamas.
“It’s pretty late Olivia, you should probably be asleep. Well come in,” he said as waved me into the room.
“No, that is fine for now Brother. I actually wanted to speak to you and Sister together, would that be okay?” I asked.
“Um, yes, that is fine. Now?” He seemed surprised at my request.
“Yes please, could you find Sister and meet me in the… third library?”
“Okay, then I will get dressed and go find Pamela, she should be either in her room or her studio, I figure I will be there in ten or so minutes.”
“Thank you, Brother, I will see you then,” I said and turned to leave.
“Hey! Wait for a second,” his yell stopped me. “Hold on”
Timothy turned back into his room but came back to the door within a few seconds.
“That stuffed animal is… unique, but I bet it doesn’t keep you warm. Here, take this,” He wrapped a heavy overcoat around my shoulders. “It is pretty cold in the villa at night.”
“...Thank you.”
“No worries Little Sister. Now get going, I need to get changed.”
“Hmm,” I said as I snuggled into the coat.
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Tuesday, February 17th, N.E. 807, 22:32
Pine Family 3rd Library, 3rd Circle, Royal Capital Arvas, Fredirin Kingdom.
Olivia Pine Fredirin.
The Pine Villa was a sprawling compound, the highest sections, excluding the guard towers, were only three stories high, and most of those were basically balconies and observatories. The design was simple and elegant, gray marble merged seamlessly with the trees and other greenery from the gardens.
Because the villa was so spread out, making my way straight from my brother’s room to the third library in the back of the compound, took me nearly ten minutes.
It was a scenic journey, however, and it gave me time to sort some of my thoughts.
Since there would still be ten to fifteen more minutes until my siblings arrived, I had a servant start a fire and set up a table for us. Tea was prepared, Tesk for me, and something non-toxic for my family.
As the heat from the hearth slowly infused the room, I sat curled up in my brother's coat on one of the sofas.
My old form would find the chill of winter here to be below my notice. Unless it was cold enough to instantly freeze large masses of water, it was literally under my normal detection range. I didn’t particularly enjoy the cold, but it wasn’t until the temperature hit around 100 below zero that I would start feeling uncomfortable. I once even encountered a situation where the air around me began to condense into a liquid. Not only did I need to use mana to prevent myself from freezing, but I couldn’t breathe either, it was a very unpleasant encounter.
So, the chilliness of the villa in late winter, a mild fifty degrees, was quaint in comparison.
“Hey Olivia, we are here.” My brother called out as he opened the door.
Having confirmed I was here by sticking his head in, he held the door open for my sister. Pamela was wearing a pair of brown, baggy pants, a long-sleeved white shirt, and a gray cloak was wrapped around her shoulders. She had splotches of paint smeared on her shirt and pants, and also her face and hands. She was also wearing an eye patch.
Timothy came in after her and shut the door, he was wearing his school uniform, black pants that were similar to the military uniform used for officers in the Kingdom’s army. He had on a plain white undershirt that was visible through the school jacket he had left open. The uniform’s cloak for inclement weather was also wrapped around his shoulders.
The two of them each took seats, Timothy sat in a lounge chair, and Pamela was going to sit on the adjacent sofa, but she quickly looked over her attire, and realizing the paint was still wet in places, chose to sit down on one of the plain wooden chairs.
The servant handed each of them a cup of tea, and then placed the pot down upon one of the end tables, and then withdrew with a bow.
“Well Olivia, what did you want to talk about?” Timothy asked after he put down his cup of tea.
“Yes, I was surprised when Elder Brother found me so late at night.” My sister added.
“I’m sorry for bothering you when you were involved with your work.” I apologize earnestly to my sister.
“Oh, eh, well, it wasn’t going well, to be honest. I've cleaned that canvas more times than I care to admit. I just can’t get it right. Well, no matter, it is simply a mental block of some sort, it will clear itself up with time.” She responded.
“I see, I wish you luck then.”
My sister just nodded and then looked over to Timothy.
“Well, little sister, I know I asked during dinner, but are you truly well now? No lasting harm?” My brother asked.
“That is what I wanted to talk about. Or at least, part of it. I am fine though, so don’t worry.”
As I reassured them of my good health, both seemed to brighten up, a look of relief washing over them.
“That is good, I was so worried when I heard what happened.”
“Right, I was too. If I ever figure out… No, that doesn’t matter now. What is important is that you are well.” Timothy had a flash of dark emotion flash across his face, but it was soon gone.
“Exactly as brother says, all that matters is that you are okay now Olivia. We’ll figure out something to make sure this won't happen again.”
“Ah, yeah, thank you,” I mumbled out.
This level, of pure, open, concern was unknown to me. It was hard for me to comprehend it.
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“Good.” My brother said with a smile. “Now, it is somewhat late, so what did you want to talk about?”
“Well.. the first thing is, my ordeal allowed me to break the lock on my magic core.”
“Gah-gah.”
“What!? Is that true!?”
My brother suddenly stood up from his chair and rushed over to me, and my sister sputtered out the tea she had just drunk.
“Mmm, Yes,” I responded.
Their shock wasn’t unfounded. The exact mechanism in which magic forms in people isn’t known, but large portions of it are hereditary. A powerful mage for a father and mother normally produces a powerful mage for a child. A child from two wind mages will also, usually be a wind mage themselves.
But not always. Sometimes two fire mages produce a water mage, sometimes two great mages produce an average one, sometimes two people who can’t use even the simplest spells, produce a once a decade genius.
For the wealthy, soon after birth, any children will be tested to check the strength of their magic core, while the ability to use magic requires great skill, it also requires the basic traits of a strong and robust magic core. A strong core doesn’t guarantee a powerful mage, but it goes a long way towards it.
The problem is, magical outbursts can be caused when a person’s emotions run wild. Mages, learn to temper this until it's basically unheard of. But for a child, an infant, it's nearly impossible to prevent outbursts. It’s not uncommon for children to exhaust themselves, sometimes even to the point where their lives are in danger. Worse, instead of just leaking mana all over the place, sometimes the mana can form an actual spell, and while rare, sometimes children sometimes kill themselves or their parents in this way. A small ball of flames might not normally be a real threat, but when it happens in a baby’s crib, it can be a disaster.
To prevent this, wealthy children get checked, and if they have almost any potential to be a mage, their magic core will receive a seal, that constrains their mana so it can’t leak out.
Generally speaking, the seals don’t completely block the mana, they just limit the amount that can come out to a fraction of the max, this allows the child to practice using magic as they grow. Eventually, as they get older, and their mastery of their mana grows, they will force a great amount of mana through the seal, which if done right, breaks the seal. This is normally a cause for a celebration, and it indicates the child is an adult.
Legally, one is considered a child until they reach the age of twelve, but for nobility, a person is still considered a child until they unlock their seal. Most people do this on their birthday during a party or ceremony, but a few do it a bit earlier or a bit later.
That being said, a bit earlier means eleven, rarely ten, and never seven. To unlock a sealed mana core at the age of seven, is simply unheard of, bordering on impossible.
“Olivia, did you really?” My brother asked breathlessly as he grabbed my hand and slowly circulated his own mana around it.
Timothy Pine Fredirin, was a rare genius, at the age of twelve, he had already unlocked his mana core a year ago. Now, doing that at the age of eleven, wasn’t uncommon, especially for the upper nobility, in fact, eleven could be considered average for people like us. What made my brother a genius, was that he could have unlocked his core when he was just turning ten, he just chose not too. Well, it was mostly our parents who advised him against it, after all, unlocking your core at that age would draw an enormous amount of attention towards you. And it was best to not paint a target like that.
“B-brother, is it true?” Pamela asked while wiping her mouth with a paint covered piece of cloth that she had produced from her pocket. The tea on her lips was gone, but in its place, she had smeared some yellow paint.
“It… It is true. She really has…” My brother muttered out as he stared at me in shock, the mana from his hand still flowed around my hand, mixing with my own mana, the two flows merging against each other.
But as the two flows came in contact, my brother’s shocked face slowly became a frown.
“How… how can it be so dense?” He asked no one in particular.
No two people have the same flavor of mana because mana directly makes up the person’s soul. All living things have souls, and all living things also have mana. Even if they can’t use magic, they have mana. Not only humans, but the other races, even animals, and plants, have mana and have souls. And no two souls are the same.
A stronger soul means stronger mana, and the inverse is true, increasing your mana makes your soul stronger. A person with a strong soul will inherently have powerful mana.
My brother Timothy is an earth mage, he can use the other elements to some degree, but he is particularly skilled in earth magic, and his mana shows that. It’s smooth and durable, a steady flow with few waves or fluctuations, it appears like a gentle hill slope, even the color of his mana, currently only visible to the two of us, is a light brown color, invoking the image of loose dirt.
“Olivia, your magic… it isn’t elemental?” He asked, me, this time.
“No, it isn’t,” I answered.
There are five, broad categories of magic that exist.
The most common amongst humans is Elemental Magic. There are six elements, Light, Dark, Fire, Earth, Water, and Wind. Nearly all humans have an aptitude for at least one and find themselves particularly skilled in that element. My brother has a strong aptitude for Earth, and a weak aptitude for Water and Wind. He’ isn't skilled with Fire, but average with Dark and Light.
The world is flowing with Mana, and nearly all naturally occurring mana is elemental, people absorb the mana from the environment, store it within their cores, and then cast magic using that stored mana. My brother can technically cast a Fire spell just as well as anyone else, but because his core naturally only absorbs a small amount of Fire mana, he lacks the fuel to power the stronger spells.
Elemental Magic is strong but simple, and while the heights of it require great skill and effort to reach, a small amount of effort will allow one to reach a decent level with it.
The next most common type is Arcane Magic. Practitioners of Arcane Magic learn to purify the elemental mana of the world, returning it to its base form. From here, the magic can then be converted into whatever element a person needs, or, it can be used to create much more powerful and esoteric spells.
Arcane Magic requires vastly more effort to learn, and its initial effects are inferior to Elemental Magic, but it can perform feats that Elemental Magic can’t even come close to.
Despite its difficulty, many low-level Arcane Spells are still very useful, if not powerful, and Arcane Magic is a necessary component in the manufacture of magic tools. The people who made Mr. Zliz, were practitioners of Arcane Magic.
The next most common type of magic is Divine Magic, this is magic that doesn’t use a person’s individual mana to power spells. A user of Divine Magic uses their mana to call upon a higher power, which then provides the needed mana for the spell. Here, the user’s mana isn’t important, instead, it’s their faith.
Elemental magic is used by almost half of the population, of the remaining half, about 35-40% use Arcane and Divine, with Arcane edging out Divine by a small margin, although that varies heavily by area. Here, in the Fredirin Kingdom, Arcane wins out, but to the south is the Holy Uvalin Theocracy, where the opposite is true.
Of the remaining 10%, about 7-8% is Spirit Magic. This magic allows the user to form a bond with various spirits, elemental, or fey beings, that jointly cast spells with the user. For some, this means they have a spiritual familiar that is physically there with them, but other times, it’s a bond with a greater spirit that doesn’t need to be physically there.
And the final 2-3%, is the broad Other Magic. Other Magic is a catch-all term for anything that doesn’t fit into the other categories. Shamanism, Necromancy, Diabolism, Witchcraft, Hex Magic, Alchemy, Mind Magic, and anything else fill in under Other Magic.
For the most part, Other Magic tends to not be popular, either because training in it is hard, or because the effects are limited, or, because it’s inherently awful, as is the case in Necromancy and Diabolism. Some Other Magics are rare because they have extreme requirements that almost no one can meet, or because they are inherited.
For example, Lycanthropy comes in two forms, the well-known infection, and also an inherited form. When people with Lycanthropy have a child, the child almost always has the disease too. If only one parent has it, and it’s the infected form, then the child will almost certainly have that too, but if both parents are infected, there is a chance, a small one, that the child will have the inherited form. The odds increase if either parent has the inherited form, and if both do, then it’s almost guaranteed the child will have that form also.
For the record, the inherited form is less of a weakness and more of a boon. It doesn’t affect the person’s mental state nearly as much, they don’t spontaneously transform when angered, the moon also doesn’t force a transformation, and the normal weakness to silver is reduced.
This type of Lycanthropy falls under a type of magic called Bloodline Magic, a magic that is not only inherited from a parent but is an inherent trait of the body. The exact point where magic becomes a Bloodline Magic is a bit fuzzy, but the big difference is that magical effects remain after death. A child of two powerful fire mages might also be a powerful fire mage, and grow up and master their magic to the point where natural fires can’t harm them. However, when this person dies, and the mana core and soul dissipates, that resistance to fire will disappear. On the other hand, a child that inherits the Bloodline of the Phoenix will showcase all of the same traits, a resistance to fire and a mastery over fire magic. But when this person dies, their body will still resist fire.
Bloodline Magic’s power is based on the bloodline in question, A harpy bloodline will give a slight increase in wind magic, while a Phoenix bloodline will grant a huge increase in fire magic, a massive resistance to fire, a boost to wind magic, and rapid healing, amongst other things.
But, Bloodline Magic is very rare, one can’t choose to practice it, you either have the bloodline, or you don’t. With the exception of some very, unethical programs, it’s almost impossible to develop a bloodline afterward. As for the Bloodlines themselves, they need to originate with a powerful magical creature, and that creature also needs to be able to produce offspring with humanoids. And such offspring rarely survive.
“If not elemental, then what is it?” Timothy asked.
“It’s Bloodline Magic,” I answered my brother’s question.
That… That’s impossible, it is, right? That can’t be?” My brother mumbled confusedly.
“No brother, it is possible, I think it’s called… what was it again?” Pamela broke into the conversation again.
“Atavism” I provided the word they were looking for.
Atavism is the regression to a previous form, in this case, one of our distant ancestors must have had a Bloodline, but it had faded away. But, somehow, the weak traces came out in me.
Of course, that wasn’t the case at all.
“Yes, Atavism. I've heard of that happening before, people somehow end up with a Bloodline Magic when neither parents had one.” Pamela nodded as she recalled that information.
“Atavism… We did learn about that I think. Or, the teacher mentioned it. But isn’t that… a one in a million chance?” Timothy turned to Pamela, even as he still held my hand.
“Hah, one in a million? Probably not even one in ten million. At least not like this, developing Bloodline Magic from scratch. It is normally a person with a weak Bloodline, that later on strengthens it back to its original form.”
“Well… maybe we all have this Bloodline? And Olivia just woke it up?”
“Er, maybe? I don’t know, it depends I guess?”
My brother and sister began discussing this in earnest, and my brother kept my hand in his while they did. For my part, I knew both of them were wrong.
In fact, I had technically lied to them, my mana wasn’t from a Bloodline, at least not technically. The Olivia of a week ago did not have a bloodline at all, it wasn’t hidden within her body just waiting to wake up, no matter what tests she would go under, nothing would come up.
But, when she grew, when her body got stronger, and her soul strengthened, and when my own soul finished mending, we two would combine. In actuality, Olivia’s soul was just a small portion of mine, when I awoke, I just reabsorbed that small portion. And when I awoke, my soul began reforging Olivia’s body, my body.
A bloodline is the genetic traces of a magical being, but what my soul was doing to this body, was reforging it into a magical being.
Well, for all intents and purposes, the effects were identical, it was just a matter of the scale. I was still weak now, in the process of reforging, but already I was stronger than all but the most powerful Bloodlines, when the process would end, I would tower over any mere Bloodline.
That being said, I would still be far from what I was before, right now, my soul resided within a biological body, the body of the human named Olivia Pine Fredirin, and there was no way to shed that body of flesh, at least as far as I currently know. I would always be tied down by that flesh, whereas before, I was a being whose body and soul was one entity and that lead to a vastly greater level of strength.
In fact, right now, not only was my organic body limiting my strength, it was an actual weakness, if I used too much magic, the body would be torn apart. And if I obliterated my flesh body, I would most likely die. I might be able to become a spirit, but that would be no better than death.
“Well Olivia, what kind of Bloodline is it? And what does it do?” My brother’s question brought me out of my thoughts.
“I don’t know what type it is, the inherited memories are fuzzy, and only related to some of its abilities. It’s… Probably some kind of Outsider…” I lied to them.
Outsiders were beings that didn’t exist on natural worlds. At the low levels they were spirits, elementals, angels, demons, and devils, and at the peak, they were gods.
The big thing that separated Outsiders from what is commonly known as Mortals, wasn’t where they hailed from, or their strength, but the fact that their bodies and souls were one.
“An Outsider, I see…” Timothy said as he appeared lost in thought. My sister too, also looked lost in thought.
Outsiders generally left the greatest amount of Bloodlines, even when compared to all mortal races combined, the Outsiders still produce more. This is because most Outsiders can shapeshift to some degree, and even if they don’t, because their body is their soul, they can produce offspring with any living being. Somewhere out there, there is probably a tree, maybe even a mushroom, with an incredibly powerful Bloodline that originated from an Outsider.
“Well, if we knew what kind of Outsider, we could determine… Wait! Olivia, you said you knew what your Bloodline Magic can do already? Quick, Tell us!” Pamela nearly shouted, as she too ran over and grabbed my other hand.
Mr. Zliz now sat limply on my lap as both of my arms were captured by my siblings.
“It is… blood manipulation.” I lied again.
While this was a lie, technically, it was a small one.
Bloodline Magic is inherent to the body, and my blood manipulation isn’t an inherent ability, but simply the magic I'm most familiar with.
Because I was one of the weakest types of my race, I was born with a body similar to a mortal’s, complete with organs, bone, and blood. Manipulating my blood was useful for healing, and keeping me alive when I found myself with more holes than normal, but it also served as a decent surprise attack. On more than one occasion when I was young, I was able to use my magic to devastating effect on something that was in the process of eating me.
And because I was one of the weakest of my race, if I had actually created a Bloodline based upon myself, all it would do is provide a more sturdy body and a resistance to magic. Granted, if that Bloodline came from me when I was at my peak, and it was a pure Bloodline, it would provide a nearly indestructible body, immune to most physical and magical attacks.
But still, it would be a boring Bloodline.
“Err… I am not exactly sure what that is.”
“Nor am I, could you show us, Olivia?”
“Yes, but I need my hands back first,” I replied with a smile as I pulled my hands back from my siblings.
“Ah, sorry.” Timothy apologized as he let go.
“Timothy, you shouldn’t hold a lady’s hand like that.” And Pamela let go while reprimanding our brother.
“Sorry.”
As he apologized again, I looked around the room for a sharp object, but since it was a library, there was a lack of knives and blades. Even our tea set, the snacks that were served were cookies with some kind of nut mixed in, nothing that required a knife.
I didn’t actually need to cut myself, I could easily make blood come out of any opening, my eyes or mouth for instance. And if I really needed too, I could just make blood explode out of my body by tearing through the skin.
But… that would make for a very… unpleasant scene, and I didn’t want to come off as too much of a monster.
Outsiders were a pretty diverse group, and an evenly split group. There were outsiders that were neither good nor evil, but there were also outsiders that were the paragons of good and virtue, and ones that were the embodiment of evil and wickedness. At least, that is how mortals viewed us.
Since Bloodlines do affect the personality of the wielder, having a Bloodline from an evil Outsider could be an issue.
And Flesh Magic, what blood manipulation falls under, itself was already something that was similar to necromancy.
So lacking a sharp object, and not wanting to use the other options, I did the best thing I could, I downed the last of my tea, and then made a sharp object.
With a crunch, the fine porcelain teacup was shattered between my two hands, shards of it stabbed into my palms and sliced my fingers. There was a tiny amount of tea left in the cup, but the liquid that fell onto my lap, staining the sofa and covering Mr. Zliz was almost entirely my blood.
“Olivia!”
“What are you doing!?”
My sister dropped her own cup and it shattered upon the floor, and my brother whipped out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and rushed towards my hands.
“Pamela, go call for-”
“It’s fine Brother.” I interrupted.
“What’s fine! You! What did… you… do…?” He trailed off shocked.
My sister too, who was moving towards the door in a hurry, froze when she looked back at us.
The blood that had splashed and dripped down onto my pajamas and the sofa, along with my stuffed animal, had peeled itself away and floated up into the air. The pieces of shattered porcelain, caked with blood, also came up, drug into the air by the blood that coated it. Besides those shards, nothing else retained any trace of my blood.
Before me sibling's eyes, the sharp parts still stuck in my hands slowly wiggled and slipped out of the wounds, they too joined the other bits along with the blood to float in front of me. Once they were all out of my hands, the blood flow from my wounds stopped abruptly, the gashes and cuts quickly mended themselves, and the blood on my hands withdrew into the wounds right before they closed fully.
The blood in the air condensed into one fist-sized ball, and then the shards from the cup all flew into that ball, slipping through the surface without creating a single ripple.
It took less than five seconds from when I reassured my brother, but nothing in the room was stained any longer, and the only blood was the orb floating in front of me.
I motioned with my finger, and the orb of blood swiftly and surely moved and hovered over the saucer that was paired with my cup, after a moment, a white powder fell from the bottom of the orb, the completely dry powder was the ground up shards from my cup. The orb then shot back towards me, and I caught it in my hand as if it was a thrown ball, and in a way, it was, since, during that trip, it had frozen solid and was now hard as a rock. I then tossed it onto the floor, where it hit with a soft clunk, and then rolled and came to a stop next to one of the bookshelves.
Both of my siblings never took their eyes off of it.
“That, is Blood Manipulation,” I stated.