Madam Aldwin had progressed from the standards of Imperial etiquette into a wide range of topics, the like of which Leon had never seen before. Her fervent passion for knowledge and her dedication to teaching him had only intensified. Leon now found himself immersed in subjects that went far beyond the expectations he initially had for his lessons.
His days were no longer limited to proper bowing techniques and the refined language of diplomacy. Madam Aldwin had broadened his studies to encompass everything a noble heir might need to govern their lands, defend their holdings, and ensure prosperity for their people. Territory management, agricultural practices, trade routes, and economic policies—all these topics now filled his daily studies. The goal was clear: to make sure Leon could hold his own against any aspiring noble scion who might try to look down on him or belittle him due to his commoner roots.
What impressed Madam Aldwin most wasn’t just Leon’s ability to remember; it was how naturally he seemed to call upon his power, using it to recall intricate details almost as a reflex. It had become second nature to Leon to focus his mind and let the knowledge flow to him, like dipping into a well that never ran dry. His recall bordered on unnatural, but he didn't think of it that way—it was just a part of him, a tool that sharpened itself every time he used it.
The issue that brought Roderic to Madam Aldwin’s door this day was a matter of urgency. A series of strange crop failures had swept through Highfield, and the farmers were growing desperate. Leon happened to be in the room, sitting at the table as Madam Aldwin instructed him on imperial history. As Roderic explained the situation, Leon's mind began to turn over the problem like the cogs of a wheel.
"Madam Aldwin," Roderic said, his face creased with concern, "we've done everything we can to salvage the crops, but the failures continue. If we don't find a solution soon, we may face shortages through the winter."
Madam Aldwin’s brow furrowed as she listened. Before she could respond, Leon spoke up, his voice tentative but thoughtful. "It might be a soil issue," he suggested, recalling a passage he'd read in one of the books Madam Aldwin had given him on agricultural cycles. "Maybe there’s a nutrient deficiency causing the plants to wither. A treatment with the right minerals could help."
Madam Aldwin turned to Leon, her expression softening into one of consideration. She nodded, then seemed to search her own memory, her eyes lighting up as she made a connection. "Yes, of course," she said, her tone more certain now. "Phosphates, potash, and other mineral supplements. Those would revitalise the soil if that’s the issue."
Roderic looked between Leon and Madam Aldwin, the hint of a smile breaking through his worry. "Then we'll take both of you to oversee it," he said, his voice lighter than it had been a moment before. "We need every advantage we can get, and it sounds like you two might be able to help."
Despite the situation’s urgency, Leon felt a thrill at the idea of leaving the manor and seeing the village again. It would be his first time in over a year. Madam Aldwin merely gave a brisk nod of agreement, but Leon could see the faintest glimmer of pride in her eyes as she glanced at him.
Under a heavy escort, Roderic led Leon and Madam Aldwin through the village. It was a world both familiar and strange to Leon, the people and buildings the same, but touched by an air of worry that hadn't been there before. Farmers stood in small clusters, speaking in low tones, casting wary glances at the ground as if willing it to yield answers.
As they moved through the village, Leon spotted a familiar face in the crowd—Jory, one of his childhood friends, peeking out from behind a cart to avoid the guards. Leon’s eyes lit up, and he managed a quick smile. Jory darted over, staying low and avoiding the attention of the escort.
“Leon!” Jory whispered, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his friend. "Blimey, look at you! You’re... different. All muscles and serious-like. They’ve turned you into a proper soldier!”
Leon couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a mix of pride and embarrassment colouring his face. “Something like that,” he said, trying to keep his voice light even as he glanced at the worried villagers. “I heard the crops were failing.”
“Yeah,” Jory said, his smile fading. “It’s been rough. But hey, did you hear about Aria?”
Leon shook his head, the name sending a ripple of surprise through him. He hadn’t thought of her in a while—Aria, the girl who used to outsmart them all with puzzles and tricks. The friend who’d been as quick with her wit as Leon was with his feet.
“She’s gone to the Spellcrafter’s Guild,” Jory continued, excitement mixing with the sadness in his eyes. “Picked up by one of them travellers that showed up around the time you left. They said she had a knack for it, so they took her. She’s gonna train at the academy in a few years, like you.”
Leon’s breath caught for a moment. Aria, at the academy? He hadn’t expected to hear that name tied to such a place. The academy wasn’t just for Evokers like Leon; it was a place where Spellcrafters, noble scions, and even commoners with the means to pay for their education all studied together. Evokers and Spellcrafters took many of the same lessons during their time at the academy. They both needed to master the fundamental principles of runic magic, though Spellcrafters would focus on engraving sub-runes into their spellcrafts, while Evokers attuned to broader concept runes.
"Three years," Jory said with a rueful smile. "She’ll be off to the academy a year before you. Guess she couldn't wait to outdo us all, huh?"
Leon smiled faintly, though his mind was already racing. The thought of Aria walking those same halls, studying alongside him—even if their focuses differed—felt both unexpected and comforting. It bridged the gap between who he had been in the village and the person he was becoming, making the academy seem a little less intimidating.
"Thanks for letting me know," Leon said, his voice quieter. "Tell everyone I miss them, yeah? And... I'll see Aria soon enough."
“Will do, Leon,” Jory said with a grin before slipping back into the crowd, his presence vanishing like a shadow.
Leon watched him go, a bittersweet feeling settling in his chest. He was glad to hear Aria was doing well, but the reminder of how much had changed since he’d left the village lingered. He wasn’t the same boy who’d run through these streets. And neither, it seemed, were his friends.
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A few weeks had passed since Leon and Madam Aldwin had joined Roderic in the village to help the farmers. The mineral treatment they suggested was underway, and the first signs of the crops' recovery were beginning to show. Highfield was finally seeing some light at the end of a long tunnel.
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Leon stood at the edge of the fields, watching the farmers work with renewed determination. The treatment wasn’t a perfect fix—not every crop had survived—but there was enough growth to keep the village hopeful. The atmosphere was lighter, and the sense of defeat that had hung over the fields like a fog was beginning to lift.
Roderic joined Leon, his expression more relaxed than it had been in weeks. "Your suggestion turned out to be the right one," he said, his tone carrying a note of appreciation. "You gave them hope when they were ready to give up."
Leon nodded, feeling a mix of relief and humility. "It was Madam Aldwin’s idea, really," he said, thinking back to the moment when his suggestion had sparked her memory. "I just... remembered what I'd read."
Roderic looked at him with a hint of respect in his eyes. "You’ve done more than just recall facts, Leon. You offered a solution when no one else could. That’s something to be proud of."
Leon’s thoughts drifted back to his reunion with Jory and his friends during the visit. Seeing their reactions to how much he'd changed—a mix of surprise and curiosity—had made him realise just how different he had become since his time at Highfield Manor. The once scrawny boy they knew had grown into someone with the potential to protect and lead, someone they could rely on.
Roderic’s voice pulled him back to the present. "Word of what you've done here has reached some of the other nobles," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "A few see it as a sign of promise. They find it interesting that someone in my territory is making waves. But, as always, there are others who don't take kindly to the idea of a commoner achieving something noteworthy."
Leon’s brow furrowed slightly, trying to make sense of it. "They don’t like that I helped?"
"It’s more complicated than that," Roderic replied, shaking his head. "It’s not so much that they disapprove of your actions, but the fact that you accomplished something that’s drawn attention to Highfield—a place they still see as lesser because of its common roots. Nobles tend to guard their reputations fiercely. For some, it's hard to accept that anyone outside their circle could make a difference."
Leon felt a flicker of frustration. It didn’t make sense to him—shouldn’t everyone be glad that the problem was being solved, no matter who found the solution? But he also knew that the world he was stepping into wasn’t always fair, and that power and pride often went hand in hand.
"They’ll get over it," Roderic continued, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "What matters is that you’ve shown them—shown all of us—that knowledge and skill aren’t limited by birth or title."
Leon nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. This wasn't just about showing off his talents or proving himself to the nobles. It was about protecting the people of Highfield, the place he still called home, no matter how much he had changed since leaving.
He let his gaze drift over the fields again, watching the villagers work under the sun. Their laughter and the renewed energy in their movements gave him a sense of purpose that went beyond his own ambitions. This was the reason he needed to keep pushing forward, to learn and grow stronger—not just for himself but for them.
Leon knew there was still so much he didn’t understand about his power and the world he was about to step into at the academy. But as he watched the people he cared about—his friends, his home—he knew he'd need to try his hardest.
This wasn’t just about the academy or becoming an Evoker. It was about ensuring that the village he grew up in would always have someone to stand by their side, to protect what mattered most to them.
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As the last light of day faded, a finely crafted carriage rolled into Highfield. Its sleek, polished exterior was marked with the crest of House Corwell, a subtle but unmistakable display of wealth and status. As it came to a stop, the coachman dismounted to open the door, and out stepped a nobleman whose appearance was immediately striking—Baron Alden of House Corwell. He was tall and lean, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples, giving him an air of dignified age despite his youthful eyes that sparkled with something sharper, more mischievous. His attire, though elegant, carried a practical edge to it—like someone who favoured function as much as form.
Beside him emerged a young boy with wild, copper-red hair and an easy smile that hinted at a hidden wit. He looked to be around Leon's age, his clothes neat but clearly designed to allow freedom of movement rather than make a statement. Leon’s attention shifted to the boy’s aura—it was faint, less controlled than Caelus’s but more stable than his own. The pressure around him didn’t have the same intensity Leon remembered feeling in Caelus’s presence, yet there was a distinct sense of potential there, waiting to be shaped.
Roderic stepped forward to greet the visitors, maintaining his composure even as he assessed them. "Baron Alden Corwell, welcome to Highfield," he said, offering a formal nod. "I hope you find our lands and its produce to your satisfaction."
Alden’s lips curved into a smile that was both warm and sly. “Baronet Roderic Highfield, I must say, I’ve been eager to sample the fruits of your territory,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a touch of playful rivalry. “And not just the produce, mind you. Caelus mentioned a certain young Evoker here who piqued his interest.”
Leon felt a slight tension ripple through the air as the young boy turned his gaze towards him, his grin widening into something almost conspiratorial. “I’m Cyrus,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with an undercurrent of excitement. "Heard you're the one with the new trick. Mind if we compare notes?"
Leon blinked, momentarily taken aback by Cyrus’s casual approach, before extending his hand. "Leon," he replied. "I’d say let’s see who’s got the better moves."
Cyrus’s grin widened into a full-blown smirk. “Oh, this’ll be fun,” he said, his tone almost daring. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
Alden chuckled lightly, his eyes drifting from Cyrus to Leon with something akin to amusement. “It’s not every day you see Evokers sparring before they even make it to the academy,” he said. “Though I must say, Caelus’ interest in your abilities, Leon, left quite an impression. It’s not often he comments on something he hasn’t seen before.”
Roderic offered a polite smile, his eyes not quite masking the flicker of competitive spirit. "It seems we have a rare opportunity on our hands," he said. "Highfield may not be famed for its grandeur, but I believe our Evoker might surprise you, Baron."
Alden gave a slow nod, still smiling. “I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t expect to be impressed,” he said, his tone carrying both respect and a challenge. "I think a few days here will be most enlightening. I do hope Highfield's famed produce lives up to its reputation, both in the fields and in the training yard."
Cyrus shot a quick look at Leon, a gleam of excitement in his eyes that seemed more genuine than competitive. “I’ve never met another Evoker my age,” he said, his voice quieter but no less eager. “This is going to be a good few days.”
Leon returned the look with a nod, feeling the stirrings of a rivalry that didn’t carry any malice—just a challenge he felt compelled to meet. This was different, something more personal, and for the first time, he felt like he was meeting someone on the same path, even if their journeys had only just begun.
As they entered the manor, the hum of conversation slowly shifted from formal pleasantries to something more genuine. Cyrus’s eyes darted around, taking in the grandeur of the space, while Roderic guided their guests with an air of practised hospitality. Leon kept pace beside him, feeling the weight of unspoken expectations settle over the room.
He caught a brief glance from Cyrus, a flicker of something akin to a challenge passing between them—unspoken but undeniable. It was enough to send a thrill of anticipation through Leon, the hint of rivalry sparking something restless in his chest.
The scene seemed to settle, the conversation flowing into the comforts of the manor, leaving behind the initial tension of their arrival.