Despite being in a literal race for survival against a race of godlike beings that wanted to steal her soul - not to mention the fact that she was stuck in the manipulative strings of a suspiciously helpful demon-thing - Everie still found that she somehow managed to find enjoyment in the oddest of things.

It had been the same in her previous life. Her world had been a panoply of bloodshed and misery. When confronted with despair, people tended to gravitate towards simpler pleasures.

Food. Booze. Sex. On the less uncouth side, and more akin to intellectual pursuits, was the appreciation of fine art, texts, and academia. Most found solace in their religious pursuits: something that, fortunately or unfortunately, had never appealed to Everie.

In the end, though, they were all just distractions. Inefficiencies. Things that detracted from her constant fight for survival.

At the same time, Everie recognized them as necessary. She was still human, after all. She liked and disliked things like anyone else. Though in the past she had molded herself into a weapon to guard herself from desperation and self-hatred, Everie yet indulged.

Those luxuries that had surrounded her throughout the manor had fascinated Everie at first; even now, she was not yet quite used to them. The sun and sky and stars, too, were of such unnerving beauty in this strange second homeland of hers that she found herself breath-taken each and every moment she stepped out the manor.

The library, though, had fascinated her the most. Everie had always liked books - having that desire fulfilled, however, had been difficult as a Sister. Now, she consumed volumes of fiction. Of legend. Of science and magical theory. And although she had always possessed an aversion for philosophy in her past, Everie didn’t despise it so much now that she was in a safe environment, where she could think without getting stabbed.

The last time I thought, after all, Everie thought, clenching her fists, exactly that happened to me.

Everie enjoyed her new life for many reasons. But this... This, she thought, a smile creeping upon her face.

This... I might just like most of all.

“Feeling a lil’ better now that you’ve been exposed to the fresh air and touched grass, miss?” Daphne said, grinning toothily.

Everie rolled her eyes, loosening her grip on Briar’s hand as they walked across the courtyard to their carriage.

“Whatever, Daphne,” Everie said... though she couldn’t keep a flicker of amusement from coloring her voice.

“I’m glad you two are enjoying yourself,” said Briar, smiling at her. Everie returned her expression, albeit a little hesitantly.

“Yes, mother,” Everie said. She let go of her hand and twirled, sending her dress spinning around her. It was a breezy thing; a yellow sundress that Daphne had gifted her. It had supposedly been made by a famous tailor in the city for her in her youth. It had been one of the only gifts Daphne’s parents had given her.

It was also the last gift Daphne’s parents had gifted her. At least, before...

Well, Everie thought. Needless to think, that was a touching gift. If entirely unnecessary...

Everie had no interest in clothes, after all, and it wasn’t as if she was short of opulent garb to wear. A summer prior, when Everie had finally grown taller than the approximate height of a goose, Briar had taken Everie down to the city tailor for the first time to commission her first set of outfits.

Briar had enjoyed it. Everie hadn’t. But it hadn’t bothered her too much, especially since it seemed to bring Briar some sort of joy.

Everie sighed, appraising her mother with narrowed eyes. Though shrouded by the light of the summer sun, it was just impossible to hide how pale her skin was.

Has her illness gotten worse? Everie wondered. It wasn’t so bad a few weeks ago...

She blinked. Right. Haswalth... my father had left for the Eastern front then.

Everie closed her eyes, stretching out her arms.

...Whatever. Keep family drama for later. She had things to do, after all!

Daphne snapped her fingers. “Actually, my lady,” she said, “Pardon me for asking, but where is miss Cherry?”

“Ah, of course,” Briar said, stumbling slightly. “Cherry should be up soon. Why...”

“I’ll call her!” the maid said, grinning. She snapped her fingers. Everie saw the slightest hint of a magic-circle being drawn, before her Inner Eye sensed a vibration traveling through the air, twisting and reflecting ‘round the various pillars of the house, before traveling to the servant’s quarters.

Everie raised an eyebrow. “Your control of magic never ceases to amaze me, Daphne,” she said. “I’m jealous.”

She was.

Daphne laughed. “Well, this is the result of years of practice, miss,” she said, flexing her arms as if to show off her nonexistent biceps. “And I’m often jealous of you. Why, if I had even half of your ether capacity, or even just your purity...”

Everie’s expression soured, and she pouted. “I have no control over it whatsoever, though.”

Briar, who’d been watching their conversation with unhidden mirth, suddenly laughed, startling both Everie and Daphne. “Oh, you two are just so cute. I must be getting old.”

Everie opened her mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by the sudden incursion of another figure.

“Indeed, my lady,” said Cherry, ‘rounding the corner. “The young miss never ceases to amaze... and I suppose it’s a good thing young Daphne has become closer to her. Noble heirs are often lonely in their younger years, after all - it was good foresight on the lord’s part to introduce them to one another.”

Daphne gave her a completely obsequious bow. Everie raised an eyebrow in surprise; Daphne being the free spirit she was, it was a rare sight to see her bow to anyone that wasn’t of terrifically higher status.

She fixed her gaze on the older maid. Everie still didn’t know Cherry all that well. She was a constant presence in the house, of course. She had taken care of Briar in her youth the way Daphne was taking care of her now, and Briar was eternally grateful to her for that.

She wasn’t even strong by the standards of this world. After she awakened her inner eye all those years ago, Everie had appraised Cherry’s core to be around the second layer. More powerful than Everie, certainly, but nothing compared to Haswalth or Vernas. Both of whom, even in their repressed states, exuded enough ether to physically warp the atmosphere around them.

But she was dangerous. That much, Everie was certain of. So she did the only thing she could: tighten her grip on Briar’s hand.

“Well?” Everie said impatiently, her voice a little higher-pitched than usual. “Can we go now?”

Briar laughed. Cherry smiled. Daphne sniggered. “What?” Everie said, frowning.

“Nothing,” Daphne said, as Cherry began helping Briar into the carriage, which floated off of the ground. The cranking sound of the runic gearworks stabilizing its midair grew ever-louder as the two women clambered aboard. “It’s just... whenever we visit the city, you seem just like a normal child.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Everie blinked.

“I just like seeing new things, Daphne,” she said, grabbing onto the maid’s hand.

Daphne laughed.

“Well, then,” she said. “We’ll just have to show you lots and lots of new things then.”

They climbed aboard, and then they were off.

----------------------------------------

The city of Medea never failed to fascinate Everie.

It was, as Daphne had so prosaically called it, full of lots and lots of new things.

“What’s that!” Everie would exclaim, pointing at a twelve-story spire adjacent to Medea street.

“That’s the local branch of the ivory tower, miss,” Daphne would say, smiling. “An organization founded by Inesorin himself!”

“And what’s that!”

“The West Aqueduct, miss. The Gearworks underneath carry the magic of the Ancestor’s blessing directly from the Herofall, producing a font of infinitely fresh water.”

“What about that!”

“That’s Orlandez’s Bazaar. A shopping-mall, of sorts. I’ve heard it’s sort of a building multiple storeys tall that contain markets of different varieties on each floor. It’s an especially popular bit of architecture in the more metropolitan cities of Oseron, if I remember correctly.”

“And... what about that!”

“The meatpacking district, miss. Well, technically, what you just pointed to was a local butcher’s shop, but all firms that deal with venison are part of the meatpacker’s union anyway, and thus share their land.”

Everie sighed, leaning back in her chair.

From her side came an amused tut.

“I’m just happy there’s things aside from your studies that interest you,” Briar said, leaning on the wall of the carriage. “I wish I could take you to my homeland sometime. It’s not quite as blessed as this place, but it’s wonderful during the springtime.”

Knowing her history, Everie wisely chose not to comment. She caught Cherry staring at her with approval. Almost as if to tell her to

“let your mother reminisce in peace. Good girl.”

Everie jumped. She stared at Cherry, but the maid was already back to looking through her side of the carriage windows.

“...Mistress?” said Daphne. The girl in question flinched, before turning to face the maid. “Is there something wrong?”

Everie shook her head. “No, it’s nothing,” she said. “So. Where are we going today, mother?”

What was that? Everie thought, frowning. It almost felt like a hallucination...

Perhaps she had been right to mark Cherry as someone to watch out for. She narrowed her eyes, looking at the older maid with suspicion.

“We’ll be heading out of the city today,” said Briar, as she pulled a sheaf of papers out of her purse - though, for its size, it was closer to a duffel bag - and placed them on the table. Everie leaned over to read them, having to clamber atop and kneel upon her seat to get the height necessary.

Upon seeing the text printed on them, she blinked.

“Tax registers?” Everie said, pouting. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from tainting her voice. “I thought we were going to visit the city!”

“And that we shall,” Briar said, gaining that strict tone of voice that Everie had learned, over these past three years, meant the woman was not to be messed with. “But why not turn it into a lesson in the time being? If you are to be heir to Medea, and... my husband will not teach you...”

Her visage darkened. “Then it is my responsibility, as mother, to train you in the ways of the nobility. I might not be so well-versed in the field of etiquette, but I’m confident that I can at least teach you the less flashy tools you’ll need for your life.”

“But- I’m four years old!” Everie said, frowning. “And-”

“-And you’ve insisted from birth on learning as much as possible,” said Briar, rolling her eyes. “My daughter, don’t try to fool me. I know you’re not a regular child. You may be of Medean blood - but you’re still my daughter. I only want the best for you.”

“But-”

“-Understand?”

Everie swallowed. She met Briar’s gaze, before wincing.

“I understand... mother,” whispered Everie.

It was almost unnerving how quickly Briar’s face changed from frightening to peaceful. “Good!” she exclaimed. “Now, we’ll have plenty opportunity for you to tour your fiefdom... after we finish our tour of the Yauzenflower fields.”

What was that? Everie thought, shivering. I... I couldn’t move. How on earth did Briar of all people scare me?

“...Mothers,” Daphne whispered under her breath.

“What did you say?” Briar said, eyes glinting. Both Everie and Daphne jumped.

“Nothing!”

----------------------------------------

The Yauzenflower fields. The sunkissed plants that made up the vast majority of Medea's landmass. A veritably endless field of black-purple, only marked with accents of wheaty-gold, almost the exact shade as Everie’s eyes.

It was from these fields that the wellspring of Medean prosperity originated. Certainly, these miraculous plants could only survive through magical subsistence via the blessing. For that, the common folk of Medea were eternally grateful, and venerated the ruling family because of it. Their famous benevolence only strengthened their popularity amongst the people.

But everyone knew that, despite all of the Dukedom’s other industries, agriculture was the true lifeblood of Medea’s commerce. Without it, all the nation-state would be was an economic wasteland - a wasteland of utmost natural bounty, perhaps, but an economic wasteland nonetheless.

And House of Medea owned all of it.

“Yauzenflower is Medea’s primary export,” intoned Briar. They were standing in the middle of one of the many flower fields surrounding the suburbs of Medea. In the not so far-off distance, Everie could see an almost pictorial expanse of windmills and haylofts, slowly swaying in the summer windstreams. “The House of Medea provides channels for its place in transnational and international commerce, and provides the land and blessing the peasantry rely on.”

She waded through the fields of waist-high purple grass. Under the illumination of the evening sun, Briar looked strong. Firm. Things that she certainly wasn’t - but talking about the thing she did best had revitalized her.

Everie couldn’t help but smile. She also couldn’t help but not want to listen, but Everie was well used to making sacrifices.

From behind them, of course, watched their coachman. Though it was rare for monsters to appear in Medea because of the influence blessing, beings classified at the fourth-tier and above could still sometimes penetrate some parts of the ward. That was part of the reason why the Medean Guard was needed, and why a Sixth-Ceiling Breaker had been assigned to them to protect them during this little excursion.

“Yauzenflower is one of the most potent grains in the world. It can be used in mundane pastry. It is an alchemical catalyst. It is the foundation for many magical foodstuffs. It can also be ground into a herbal paste, should there be no other alternative.”

“I used Yauzenflower as the base for some of my experiments back at Therellian’s,” Everie heard Daphne whisper under her breath.

“But,” Briar said, “there are other plants that have the same effect. Regular wheat can be used to make bread. Plants such as the Mountain Bismwort provide a stronger alchemical foundation. Real herbal concoctions are much more powerful than those made with Yauzenflower. So, why is the plant in such high demand?”

“It’s cheap,” Everie muttered.

Briar snapped her fingers. “Exactly,” she said, smiling. “The substitutes for Yauzenflower might be affordable for magicians or city-dwellers, but they are much too expensive for provincial folk. Thus, despite Medea’s immensely high output, there is never any shortage of demand. And as the monopoly on all Yauzenflower- based products, the House of Medea has immense market power.

And all this is yours, my daughter.”

Everie blinked. She felt something entirely foreign writhe in her heart. It was a sensation like guilt, almost.

Am I still conflicted over my newfound status? She wondered.

“Of course,” Briar said, “To manage this empire, all heirs of Medea are expected to be diligent. It helps that there’ve only been a couple successors including you in the past thousand years, what with every single one having grown up to be a powerful mage, but that only just means the training of each heir has to be taken all the more carefully.”

“I-” Everie swallowed. “I understand.”

Briar smiled. “Good,” she said, wading towards Everie. “Now-”

Everie tensed. Her eyes briefly met Cherry’s as they flickered to the patch of Yauzenflower Briar was knee-deep in.

Then, both their eyes widened. “My lady-!” Cherry yelled. “Watch-”

An explosion of dust and grain. That was all Everie could describe it as: one millisecond, nothing had been amiss. The next, Briar was safely tucked in the arms of their coachman.

And in the spot where she had been standing, an abomination hung, bisected, midair. It looked like a cross between some goblin-like creature and a koi fish, with a spindly body and abnormally large lips. Clumps of mud fell to the earth, shaped into what looked almost like ghostly armor. Shadowy wisps hung off of its body, pooling below in the twenty-meter radius circle that had been carved out of the earth by the guardsman’s strike.

As the wind and the ringing in Everie’s ears subsided, the guardsman trudged towards them, lips pressed in a tight line.

Cherry was already by Briar’s side, and Daphne by her’s. Everie felt her feet trip over themselves as they stumbled back to the carriage.

Her heart pounded in her chest in a tight thrum thrum thrum.

She watched as the guardsman withdrew a device from his breast pocket, before speaking into an aperture at the bottom.

“Coach to commander. It’s a Mud-Wraith. Yes, I’m certain, my lord.”

“What’s going on?” Daphne whispered, eyes panicked. She seemed nearly shellshocked.

Everie blinked. “I-” she swallowed. Her tongue felt as if an anvil sat atop it.

Why do I feel so frightened? She wondered. I’ve been in life-and-death situations thousands of times before. This should be nothing to me.

...So why do I feel so helpless?