"Well, I believe that I'll take my leave. If you need anything, please do feel free to call on me.” A nervous sweat glistened on her face. Miss Ivens the etiquette teacher had not forgotten our little arrangement. Charles, keeping my little escapade out of the public eye had certainly allowed this arrangement to survive. I doubted I would have had as much leverage if I was under scrutiny.
The classroom, if it could be called that, was reminiscent of a classic ballroom. And not the fairy tale nonsense either, this was well maintained functional room; no gold filagree was to be found. The floor had a well-worn polish from much use, and the walls, all whitewashed, were decorated with wildly expensive mirrors to reflect bright light even from the small chandeliers above. Large windows looked over a patio adjoining the gardens to maximize the precious light. In a world where glass was expensive, this alone showed how wealthy our family was. Several fine gravel pathways were lined with trim shrubs. The room was elegant in its simplicity and designed for the various military, merchant, and Noble guests that would visit. And, while used for parties, dancing, and the like, it served a variety of other purposes on the estate. It saw daily use. When large linens needed to be spread out and mended, or the weather forced the guards sparring practice indoors, if the space was needed, it was used. On exceedingly rare occasions merchants with specialty wares would set out their goods exclusively for selective showings. The fact that the room was booked for one hour, just to give Marianne and myself time to practice the various niceties well-bred young ladies were supposed to know, was impressive in and of itself.
Replacing etiquette with this ‘magic lesson' was of no consequence to me. People had usually been a bane on my existence and had taken great pains to ruin my peaceful life. The expression had gone, "everyone makes your day, some when they arrive and some when they leave." Mine had usually been of the latter variety. The thought of using any of the greetings or sickeningly mundane conversations almost made me physically ill. I am getting adjusted somewhat to being a 'functional' person, but a small part of me suspected that as I grew older the expectations thrust upon me would only grow. Now that I've spent the last week without those magic textbooks, I've had the unfortunate feeling that this fancy upstanding life was not my cup of well-sweetened tea. But I'm rambling.
My nerves were buzzing. This was going to be the first lesson or the second step in my four-part plan. As idiotic as it may seem, it was what I was clinging to. My notebook only had a few functions written down and a majority of the theory was for the Divine Arts. If I remained separated from my sweet doctrines on the finer points of magic, I was sure that I would wither and pine. But finding binary enlightenment is future Astella’s problem. Now, however, we had made it to the difficult part... Or what should have been.
"Astella what was that light from the other day? The flashing after you made me say those words."
Fairly early on I had decided to prioritize secrecy over everything else. After the incident with the magic kettle, I had probed a little more and found that discussing magic was not a common household topic. Even on one of Father's visits asking him only yielded an icy glare from my stepmother. For this reason, I pulled Marianne to the far side of the open room, well out of earshot of a potentially nosy etiquette teacher.
“W-well…Marianne, it was magic. I had hardly stuttered out the words before those sparkling blue eyes of hers dazzled me. Damn it, eye contact was difficult.
“Magic?”
“Would you like to see? I can show you something special if you want…?” I trailed off not entirely sure that she was convinced. I had never played much in the way of video games but even I could tell that my theoretical charisma score had hit the bottom of the barrel and was continuing to drop, any farther and I'd be hitting bedrock.
“That sounds like fun! But we have lessons.”
“Don't worry these are our new lessons as long as we don't tell mother.”
Marianne’s brow wrinkled. Although whether it was confusion or distaste at keeping secrets, I wasn't sure. Furtively I glanced over at the etiquette teacher, I locked eyes with the woman as she glanced up from a book. While she hadn't been able to hear all our conversation, I had the suspicion she got the general drift of where things were headed. I was about to say something when-
"Oh, don't mind me you can carry on." She was affixed to her book; it was as if she had no interest in the proceedings. Even I was a little surprised that blackmailing her had yielded this complacent of an instructor. That had done it for Marianne; as she looked at me and with a customary beaming smile asked, "Well what were you going to show me?"
For the briefest of moments, I thought Miss Ivens would say something as I opened one of the garden doors. But I didn't leave much time for objection. Towing my curious sister after me, I booked it. Sunset cast the gardens in an orange hue with long shadows blanketing the pathway. The usual maintenance to keep the garden in pristine condition was finished and the veritable army of caretakers were gone. Through empty paths of gravel and the exquisite blooms of late summer we walked.
I had scouted our destination the day before. On the edge of the garden was a new type of flower. My extensive perusal of herblore had identified this as a Northern Ice Bliss. And, while they could survive in this climate, they preferred cooler temperatures with less seasonal change. Not only were they beautiful but their pedals could be used in various dyes and medicines. It was a testament to this merchant family of mine, beauty and wealth in one. In the middle of summer, as we were now, the blue blossoms were struggling. Several dead stems drooped and dirtied the ground with dead pedals. Only a handful of small buds, wilted under the heat, remained. Only when the land was wrapped in the icy grasp of winter would they show their beauty.
I thought about the best way to show Marianne what she was capable of, and this was the best solution I found. Hesitantly, I took her hand trying to collect jumbled thoughts into a cohesive whole. Having rehearsed this a dozen times in my mind, I knew the next step of what I wanted to do. Reaching out I placed a finger on one of the stems that hadn't quite died. {Growth; 10 || Regenerate 1} as I verbally incanted my function, the flower began to come to life. It was a simple spell as far as I was concerned. The tome I had initially studied recommended this spell to fix dry skin. The idea of rejuvenating plant membranes and skin didn’t seem too far off, and I didn’t have a better combination to try. As mana drained out of me, I focused on my imagery of reconstructing cell walls, forcing photosynthesis to provide energy, and absorbing water through the roots. I realized three things in rapid succession. The illustration in the book I had seen hadn't done this flower any favors. Reality painted more vivid shades of blue than I thought existed. Granted, I had the artistic talent of a rock but even I could appreciate this beauty. The second was that I lacked the mana necessary to do this more than once. Lastly, it was painfully obvious that despite strong visualization lack of affinity was most assuredly an obstacle.
Splitting my attention, I saw the wonder in Marianne's eyes as near-death revived to beautiful vivid life. The amazement in her face was enough to make this entire struggle worth it. Between the theft, blackmail, and the lying, these last few months had taken a toll on me that I hadn't noticed. But this sight of my sister's joy with the sunset giving her hair a golden glow was enough to make me light-headed with happiness. Wait, my knees buckled, and I was left sitting on the ground, mana exhaustion. I was empty. For a few seconds, spots swam in and out of my fading vision before coalescing into a lovely orange sky. I was lying on my back; it hadn't occurred to me that pushing myself this hard would knock me out. As I sat up, Marianne was sitting next to me with a concerned expression. "Is this part of the magic? You lie down?"
“Nope, I'm just special.” Giving an uncharacteristically easy response, I sat back up examining the flower. All I managed to do was force one stem to bloom into full growth. There was no doubt in my mind that with practice Marianne could make a whole patch of them leap into full growth. I was still admiring my handiwork and regaining my senses when-
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"How do I do that?" This was it; she had taken the initiative. I was thrilled, overcome with enthusiasm. I was pretty sure I almost passed out again.
I took out my notebook with a charcoal stick and through a few crude drawings and a 15-minute lecture on basic plant biology she was ready to give it a try. Whether fortunate or unfortunate my understanding of botany was less than thorough, which meant I could pack the entirety of my knowledge on plants into a brief discussion, no PowerPoint needed.
***
Sweat drip down her chin. This was my fault. Well, I had given her the basic idea, but I had failed to properly explain a target area. As a matter of fact, I was right, she could revive the whole bush as she had just done so. Judging by the state she was in; I would have to guess that she was running on fumes too. I remember my first practice with magic and I had not accomplished nearly as much before I was exhausted, then again I didn't have a perfect affinity.
We just sat there for a few minutes not saying anything. She was catching her breath and I was stunned speechless, partially by the magic displayed and partially because the Northern Ice Bliss was now thriving as if in the coldest part of the tundra. After regaining a bit of my composure, I helped Marianne stand. “How about we go sit down somewhere?”
All she could do was nod. Placing her damp palm in mine I led her a little farther into the garden. We sat at a bench sheltered from the dying sunlight by an autumnal tree. Being a respectable young lady, I had a handkerchief and after getting it damp in a nearby lily pool, I brought it back and help Mary Ann clean up. I thought my capacitor for all things cute was going to short circuit. It only got worse as still a little short of breath she leaned her head on my shoulder.
“It was beautiful…” she whispered.
“You don't regret being this tired?”
With a small shake of her head, “It was tough, but the flowers looked so happy, and you tried really hard, so I tried really hard too.”
They were actually both mistakes on my part. First overestimating my own ability and second not explaining proper target areas. But if that was how she was going to look at it I was not going to go rooting up trouble or the truth.
We had been away from the manor for about 30 minutes or so. We had maybe another 15 minutes before Miss Ivans would overrule her self-preservation instinct and come looking for us. I did not doubt that if she thought we were in any real danger, she would put an end to this. Better to be thrown out of thief than be complicit in the death of a merchant’s children. Strange as it may have been to say, I didn't think she was that bad of a person. But I wasn’t exactly an authority on honest people, myself included.
Another great feature of this garden was the view. A sweeping vista of a European town in the throes of the Renaissance sprawled before us. Lus was a treasure of a city, named after my father's family. It was a city that functioned primarily as a trading hub. Almost all the merchants traveling from the Eastern coastline to the Western cities passed through its roads. And with such heavy traffic, there was an influx of tradesmen. Farriers, Smiths, Innkeepers, and all manner of specialized businesses cropped up out of nothing. And like pouring high octane gas on a campfire the town exploded. The amount of gold and goods brought through only fueled the Craftsman’s talents and services. Despite being rather isolated in a mountain valley, the quality and variety of goods were comparable to that of any harbor town.
I had been surprised by the power merchants held. I guess it really wasn't that surprising with a little thought. Even in my last world money was power. The stories I heard growing up always focused on the noble knights and the wicked monsters they fought. Never was there a mention of the down in the dirt peddlers who supplied the nation's coffers and ruled the populace's opinions. The Lus trade route was the only guaranteed safe path for merchants going to either the Dragon Citadel or the Golden Desert. When my grandfather was a young man, he had built the entire trade route through loans and backhanded deals. He carved out a road through vast uninhabitable mountains and paved it with gold. And when he had stood upon the pinnacle of his creation and had more toll money than he knew what to do with, he built towns as weigh stations to tax merchants even more. His crowning achievement had been the town of Lus; his manor overlooking the city looked like a veritable castle.
The amount of wealth he possessed could have purchased a noble title, and at one point I'd even asked father why he hadn't. With a smirk, "I asked my father the same question and he told me, 'It was more trouble than it was worth. Nobles must be at his majesty’s beck and call, fight in wars, and do silly things for the sake of honor. We will always be happy to loan them the funds they need and pay their taxes. But should they leverage their arms at us and steal our fortunes, we will offer the people a better deal’. And in fact, father did just that. The Baron who owns these lands tried to take the route from him and found his estate surrounded by over 300 mercenaries. Made the fool sign away his right to the lands taxes at sword point but left him his title.”
I was reminiscing over my father's words when Marianne suddenly got up and began walking towards a small rise in the ground to better see the city. She was anticipating the moment the lights came on. It was a phenomenon we'd seen from the house a number of times, but still, every time was just as beautiful as the last. I stood next to her as she quietly breathed. "So pretty”, and it was.
The city was in the valley which meant that the natural light of the sun was cut off early and the town was robbed of ‘free’ illumination. One of grandfather's favorite achievements was the string of mage lights erected down the main street. Even after the sun went down the city paid mages to keep the lights on. Shops could even donate money to have magical lights erected down their streets in exchange for handling the upkeep. And the town's Craftsman were fueled by rich merchants.
As the main street lit up, side streets, shop windows, and signs reminiscent of Las Vegas neon came to life. Over the next hour or so the wealthier households would also put out mage lights that they had purchased. Most of the streets would look like they were paved with the gold they created.
Unfortunately, I could tell time was running short, this was usually about the time we would end lessons and start getting ready for dinner. Sadly, I took Marianne's hand intending to take her back to the lesson hall. "Astella, can we do this again?" Her voice was hesitant. I also feared that the magic of this moment would never happen again. But no matter what I would at least have today.
Holding out my finger in a classic gesture, she saw and with a small smile, we locked pinkies. “As long as you don't tell mother about this, we can do magic all the time, I promise.”
Pinky still locked Marianne giggled, “I also want to go into town and see the lights.”
That threw me for a bit of a loop. By nature, by breeding, and by the law that is mother I was a homebody. Previously, staying at home was my preferred hobby, and now that there wasn't a reason for me to leave, this habit had only grown firmer. My ways had been set in stone and then that stone was reinforced with concrete.
But...with Marianne… " I will... Try to find a way to go to town."
“You said pinky promises were forever. You have to promise me we'll go.”
Damn my own words. “Fine, I promise I will find a way for us to go into town... probably”, the last part I muttered under my breath. It was hard to fight against the plea of a small child. Sasha had been the same way; any show she wanted to see would end up on the TV and I was powerless against her.
Firmly shaking our interlocked hands, we headed back to the manor. I was happier than I've been since coming here, I'd seen incredible magic, spent time with Marianne, and saw beautiful sights. I would find a way for us to go to town. I had promised after all and no matter how my stomach roiled, I would try. With a final gaze over the golden street below we left.
We managed to arrive just as the last traces of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. Inside was a nervous-looking Miss Ivens, who had a rather pale pallor about her face.
“Oh! I was starting to get worried, are you two alright?” There was a little more than a hint of nervous energy in her voice.
“We're doing just fine. Thank you for your concern.” And indeed, I was touched, my opinion about her moral fiber only improved.
“Yes, Miss Ivens we had lots of fun and got to see all the flowers bloom!”
While my own heart skipped a beat at Marianne's interjection, Miss Ivens took it in stride.
“All the summer blooms are quite lovely aren't they.” Her misinterpretation corrected my heart's earlier deviation. It was time to steer this conversation and do it now. Subterfuge was a specialty of mine.
“I'm hungry, we should get dinner.”
Bingo, a tactless way to transition from an uncomfortable subject. For half a breath, I thought I saw something suspicious in Miss Ivan’s demeanor, but as usual, she chaperoned us to dinner as part of her lesson obligation.
I was worried that Marianne, being her usual happy-go-lucky self would let slip today's activities. I needed to put more faith in a 6-year old’s adherence to a schoolyard promise. In usual form, she continued to chatter away about any manner of subjects none of them relating to the garden or the lack of an etiquette lesson.
After a certain amount of time mother cleared her throat and addressed the table. This was unusual. “Girls in two weeks your father will be coming home.” Marianne shrieked with delight and even I had a smile on my face. Father's visits were always interesting, and he would show me the various ins and outs of merchant and military life. This day truly couldn't get any better. With a cheery mood, I began thinking about our next lesson plan, my father's return, and an upcoming trip to the city.