Everie hadn’t touched grass for a long, long time. Or even seen it, for that matter.
As they walked across the manor grounds, Everie drank in that crackling sensation that came with the transition from summer to autumn; soon, the skies would darken once more, and the Permafrost would rage. Not even Medea’s blessing, she had been told, can keep the wrath of the Hero of Storm at bay.
Knowing what she knew now, Everie thought it stood to reason that weather conditions would be far more extreme than they had been in her previous life. Much of the time, the climes of the wastes had been too still; she’d seldom experienced inclement weather before her reincarnation.
The verdant plant life that was so prevalent in this world was another surprise. There were forests and jungle in her old world, but they were rare in the parts Everie had been from; most of her life had been spent in the wastes, and the few instances of wildlife she saw were scraggly emulations kept preserved in the Brass cities.
Her eyes flickered over the men that supposedly safeguarded not only the Manor, but the entire land of Medea all-year ‘round. Everything from high-Layer monsters - Daphne had told her that above the fourth-Layer, only very localized enchantments or barriers could ward such beasts - to marauding troops, to domestic policing and law enforcement.
They were strong, too, in a way utterly different from Daphne, or even Cherry - Briar’s maid, who trailed after her now in lieu of Briar; she had elected to stay behind for reasons Everie had chosen not to inquire. She wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was - at least, not yet - an expert on what made one strong in this world, but she thought she was at least right in judging that these men were powerful.
Ether infused their very bones. It stained their ligaments and muscles with colorless energy, and hummed with invisible power on the surfaces of their skin. It was different from the way Daphne used her magic, which traveled out of her core in specific arrangements via “actualization” - or Runes, which Everie had still no idea of the workings of - and disturbed reality. If Daphne’s powers caused phenomena, these people were the phenomena; an entire world of impossible possibility, contained within a physical shell.
Their cores also looked different. For one, Everie could instinctively sense that the Head of the Guard - Vernas, Haswalth had called him - had a spiritual core seven times the size of Daphne’s single-layered one. Even the strongest of the regular guardsmen only had a five-layered core; the energy that roiled within him was so raw and powerful that it threatened to overwhelm her every time Everie looked at it.
Not even that, though, was as impressive as the magical resplendence her... father seemed to bear. His core had eight layers.
Of course, none of this meant Everie could judge what that much energy would actually let someone do. But from extrapolation of her observations of Daphne’s casual, everyday use of her magic - even with a single-layer core - if someone told Everie that Haswalth could split a mountain in half, she might believe them.
Hells, she thought. Maybe that’s what that thunder from last week was about.
She would snort, but for some reason, that felt ignorant.
So instead, Everie fixed her gaze on the man himself. Haswalth - tall, with black-purple hair just like her, only with deep, purple eyes with her characteristic golden flecks - walked with a casual confidence. The guardsmen snapped to attention whenever his gaze passed over them, as if strengthened and reminded of their duty by his mere presence.
That alone would make Everie wary of a person - an inspiring leader usually meant they possessed some degree of competence. In this world, that likely meant martial strength. But there was a second reason for her distrust of the man that had birthed her into this world.
“So,” Haswalth said, coughing into his fist. Everie raised a brow; for such a powerful person, his voice belied little strength - the soft baritone that it was. “You’ve grown tall, then.”
And socially awkward too, it seemed. “Yes, father,” she said. “I’ve been told I grow fast for a child.”
“That’s an understatement,” muttered Vernas, and a ripple of laughter swept across the guardsmen. Everie smiled - the guard seemed more relaxed in her presence already.
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Might have been a mistake to flex too much of my sense on them earlier, Everie thought. Don’t think they suspect I can sense their magic yet, but they seemed to show some reaction to my probing.
“And so fluent, too!” Haswalth beamed. “Just as smart as your mother.”
“At least he didn’t inherit your brains, cousin,” Vernas snorted. Everie’s eyes slightly narrowed at the familiarity apparent in their conversation. “Ancestor forbid, then the young miss would have run off into the woods to train from dawn to dusk, and my men would have to drag her back.”
Everie blinked. Huh. So Haswalth is that type of person, then? Reminds me of...
She winced. Haswalth and his Guard, though, had all the subtlety of a rampaging horse, and steamrolled right on with their conversation.
It was an atmosphere a great deal different from that created by the Sisterhood. They’re Brothers, Everie realized. More than just soldiers.
And an environment Everie was utterly out of place and out of her league in.
“This ‘un here’s Vernas,” Haswalth said suddenly, causing Everie to blink. “He’s captain of the guard. More than that, though, he’s my cousin - you’ll see him in the house from time to time.”
“I’m glad to make your acquaintance, miss,” Vernas said, politely, and Everie immediately felt a deeper sense of kinship with the man. It wasn’t that she disliked the raucous atmosphere - it was more due to the fact that her current weakness meant she couldn’t comfortably partake in it.
I’m not oh-one anymore. I might have time and potential, but those are resources I’ve yet to invest. ‘Till then, I’d best be silent.
Everie turned her head. It didn’t take much to force a blush, and soon she had the guardsmen sniggering at Vernas. The man just gave her a lopsided smile, before grinning at Haswalth.
“Seems like your daughter likes me, Haswalth,” he laughed. “You’d best do best to endear herself before-”
The man paused. He blinked, before sighing. “Never mind,” he said, the teasing tone entirely gone from his voice. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”
Haswalth shook his head. “It’s fine, cousin. And you’re right, anyhow.”
What was that about? Everie thought, frowning. Something Haswalth did?
The path they were taking led back from the Manor Square towards the Manor. They were fast approaching, and the guard seemed to assume a far more ominous silence.
It was very uncomfortable. The maidstaff had been utterly silent throughout, both apprehensive and excited at the Duke’s return. And by the looks of it, Daphne felt the same thing, albeit mostly of the second type; Cherry, though, didn’t seem to care. She even looked mildly amused.
Everie couldn’t figure the older woman out, and had long since stopped trying.
It didn’t take long for them to enter the Manor. The guard waited outside, presumably as per tradition. Vernas, as Haswalth’s cousin and part of his family followed Everie and the maidstaff inside.
As they passed through the carved ingress of Medea Manor, Everie observed a subtle change come across Haswalth. The man looked more relaxed - that made sense, as this was essentially a homecoming for him. It was clear that Medea was a subject of much pride for him, and he, too, seemed loved; Everie had seen the celebrations the town had put for him from her dressing room. For Medea, this was a most frabjous day.
But at the same time, he looked tensed. Almost resigned; he knew what he had to confront, should he reenter his abode.
The introduction of Everie’s second reason for her wariness towards Haswalth could not have been better timed. On top of the grand staircase, in front of the Ancestor’s painting, was-
Briar.
“Ah,” Haswalth said, grimacing. “I’m afraid I’ll have to leave garrisoning the men to you, cousin. I-”
“No worries,” Vernas said, giving him a sharp nod. “Do what you must.”
Vernas exited the Manor quickly, going back the way from which they’d arrived. The Maidstaff, too, dispersed, albeit this time with a quiet chittering.
Daphne frowned. Cherry simply crossed her arms, glancing at the invisible thread of discontent connecting Briar and Haswalth.
“...Husband,” Briar said, finally, breaching the silence. “I see you’ve finally returned.”
“That, I have,” Haswalth said, chuckling. It was an awkward endeavor at trying to reduce the underlying tension; his laughs quickly fizzled, replaced instead by a grim, guilty silence. He looked away from Briar, wincing. “I’m-”
“Perhaps it would be appropriate for us to continue this conversation privately,” Briar said, glancing at Everie - her gaze seemed to soften for a brief second as she did so. “Daphne, if you would?”
“Ah! I- I’m on it, miss,” she said. The poor girl was still pale and unsightly from her unfortunate revelation the week prior - it really was admirable how well she was holding together. “Come on, miss, we’ll-”
“Library,” Everie interrupted, shaking her head. “Let’s go to the library.”
As they departed, Daphne’s hand in hers, Everie turned for one last look at the charged atmosphere from whence they’d come.
This, Everie thought, frowning. Is a lot more complicated than I initially anticipated. And that’s saying a lot.