Lady Everie was not in her room.

Ana, quite understandably, panicked, but she forced herself to stay calm. It had barely been a month since the MudWraith attack - what people were now calling the Great Surge - which meant everyone’s memories of it were still fresh. Calling out for assistance in finding her charge, when there could very well be an innocent explanation for her disappearance, would stir up the manor into a frenzy.

Her eyes flickered across the room. The various blankets covering Lady Everie’s four-poster were strewn about and crumpled. But that, in itself, was not uncommon.

The young miss has trouble sleeping, Daphne had once told her.

It’s more likely that she just snuck out, then she thought. As she did so, Ana felt herself relax.

Then, a gnawing hint of uncertainty began to ebb at her confidence. Ana paused.

Is it really alright for me to be so lackadaisical? She thought to herself, grimacing. Should I not alert the household anyway? What if the lady truly is in danger?

What if… what if by doing this, I doom yet another family to death?

It was an illogical stream of thought. Through her training with the Guard-Captain, and Daphne’s lectures, Ana knew very well that the more powerful warriors of the Guard were permanently on station as protectors of the Manor. Their magical sight - called the Inner Eye by most practitioners of the mystic arts - were so powerful that they could encompass the entire surrounding area and beyond.

Surely they would notice before me if Lady Everie was truly in any sort of danger.

She shivered. Still, that permafrost of uncertainty gnawed at her fresh.

I can’t. I have to do something.

Ana opened her mouth, so as to scream for assistance-

-and that was when she felt a draft of cold wind slither around her shins.

Ana blinked. The window, she thought, dumbly. The window was open. And with the way the bedsheets and blankets had been positioned, it looked as if the Lady had somehow chosen to jump out the window herself.

She rushed to the windowsill, panic seizing her heart. A cursory scan of the Manor below revealed nothing amiss. If the Lady had jumped, there’s absolutely no way a Guardsman wouldn’t have seen her.

Confusion gripped her. What’s going on here? What-

Oh. I see.

Her thoughts trailed off into oblivion as Ana finally saw it.

Carefully, Ana reached around the window frame - one foot atop the stool - to grab the small outcropping of carved blackstone that was shaped into an almost perfect handhold.

Really, my Lady, Ana grumbled. Why now, at midnight, of all times?

Do you have any idea how much we worry about you?

Lady Everie had never explicitly mentioned this pathway herself, but Daphne had been eager to regale her new compatriot-in-suffering about all the mysterious ways the heiress had managed to disappear herself - much to the older maid’s dismay - when she was younger. One of the most frightening times for her, Daphne had remarked, was when the Lady, at the age of three, before even beginning physical training with Lord Vernas, had tried to climb the Manor walls.

“Reconnaissance, she called it!” Daphne had snorted. “Ancestors, it’s like she wants to hurt herself.”

Ana hoisted herself up. She felt the temptation to grunt, but kept silent. The silence of all the nature around her was almost deafening.

Her skin prickled with hints of embarrassment. Here Ana was, a common-born farmer’s daughter, climbing barefoot up the walls of one of the most storied buildings in this continent’s history for… what?

My life, she thought to herself, grimacing, really has become quite the oddity.

But Ana also relaxed; at least for the moment, there was nothing she had to fear.

She was sure that even if she fell, her secret watchers would come and save her before she struck the ground.

For a four-story building designed to be more wide than tall, it took an unnaturally long amount of time for Ana to reach the Manor roof. Probably because of just how high the ceilings are, but... it was a reminder of just how massive Medea was.

And the scenery! It was... Ana could scarcely find the words for it. Rolling fields of swaying black-purple, fringed only by the snowcapped mountain peaks separating Medea from the toxic greenery of the Alfish Verdant, stretching from periphery to periphery. Despite it being well past midnight, the sprawling city of the Ducal Ancestor’s namesake was buzzing with fervor; a stately, respectable, holy city by day, and an effervescent creature of the night after-hours.

Beautiful. That was all she could think. It was a spectacle that could have been conjured up by a figment of a faery’s imagination.

The roof, however, she did reach eventually. Ana crawled chest-on-tile atop the flat surface. Breathing heavily, she rolled onto her back. Despite the distance she’d climbed, Ana felt hardly winded. To an extent, that could have been expected; Lord Vernas would never leave a student of his - regardless of the fact that she was a ten year old - in such a dire state that they would get tired after a minute-long climb.

Anabellum had been a frail farm-girl in the past. Now, she was strong. Ana was strong to an extent that it was difficult to believe she was still unawakened.

All thanks to Lord Vernas, and my Lady - as well as Daphne and all the others, she thought, sobering. It won’t do for me to get ahead of myself. What is it I’ve done? What-

-What is my path?

Something in her abdomen flickered.

But this wasn’t time for that. If she was to serve as her Lady’s guiding companion, then she had work to do.

The Manor roof was large - as would be expected, considering just how massive the building it belonged to was. But it was a mostly flat surface, with only sporadic inclines and protrusions. That meant Ana had a full view of everything atop the Manor canopy. And she didn’t have to look long.

There, in the full glare of the midnight moon, stood the Princess of House Medea. For the second time that night, Ana felt herself stilled by awe.

Despite it being an almost windless night, Lady Everie’s nightgown seemed to flicker as if caught in a breeze. The four-year old heiress seemed much larger than she should be; clearly, Ana’s mistress had inherited her mother’s sharp features and commanding demeanor.

All that, compounded with her obvious mental maturity, lent the Princess an almost ethereal aura.

And she was a princess, despite being a ducal heir. It had been a little difficult to comprehend for Ana at first, but it was obvious Medea was special. It was not like the rest of Azer Luceras. Medea had its own history, its own strange mystic appeal.

And Ana had been called to serve it.

Motion, from the lady, was what jolted Ana out of her reverie. There, in the very center of the Manor roof, Lady Everie raised her arms.

It was a slow, methodical action; one born of hundreds of hours of practice.

Frozen, Ana watched in fascination as the air around Lady Everie seemed to vibrate. The air around her pressurized, as if being forcibly bent by an unseen force. Wind billowed off of her, making Ana stumble backwards.

But that was all it was. Wind. Not magic. Magic of the sort Daphne demonstrated.

If magic is a manifestation of will, then this is not a manifestation. It’s merely will.

Ana shivered. But then... even unhoned, how is the Lady so powerful? Even if this isn’t the directed sort of magic that Daphne uses when Chanting… I could very well be wrong, but the fact that she can even manifest anything at all seems impressive.

Ana could do nothing but stare. Her original purpose for being here had been forgotten; she was in the presence of her mistress. Her second savior. Her master, ‘till the end of-

“Agh!”

She blinked, as Lady Everie stamped her feet, growling loudly. She swiveled, tottering around unsteadily, before collapsing down to her hands and knees, breathless.

The illusion of perfection had been shattered into fractals of glass. No longer did Everie look like a fairy-tale Princess. Now, she was just a girl in a nightgown. A very expensive nightgown, yes, and she did look a lot older than she reasonably should at her age. But a girl in a nightgown was all she was.

And for some reason, that made Ana smile. She felt relieved.

That Lady Everie, for all her distance and cold, is human after all.

So, she approached.

Her mistress did not look at Ana. She simply sat, in silence, and stared blankly forward.

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It was only minutes after Ana sat down next to her that she finally spoke.

“Anabellum.” Lady Everie’s face was the picture of perfect stillness, but her voice sounded weary.

“My Lady,” Ana responded, bowing her head. “Please. Just call me Ana.”

She waited for her Lady to continue. But Everie merely continued to stare into the night sky. She did so with such intensity that, deciding not to disturb her, Ana joined her.

As a country-girl, Ana had seen her fair share of starry nights. It was the only true natural constant, after all; mountains could be broken, and forests burned. But the sky was the dominion of the divine. Only a true god, the likes of which had never been seen in millennia, could affect something so grand.

Ana had heard that in some cities, the smog generated by the constant machine-smog and exhaust fumes clouded the stars. But that was not her city; for all its faults, Alerich was still a beautiful land.

Had been a beautiful land.

Still, the Medean sky was especially beautiful. There was... just something about it that seemed unique. Primeval. Ancestral. As if this was the sky of the primordial times: that twilight grove of stars that had been scythed into the void after the War of Heaven and Earth.

Maybe that really was the case. It seemed not much different from the skies Ana knew, but perhaps it really was Medean magic at work.

“What do you think?”

Ana blinked. It was Lady Everie that had spoken to her, of course. There was no other child in the Manor. But right now, she sounded noticeably less self-assured - enough to catch Ana off guard.

“I... it’s beautiful, miss,” Ana said. “But...”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” the child-princess said, sighing. “I know. It’s not much prettier than anything else in Medea.”

Lady Everie exhaled, leaning on her arms. “Do I look foolish to you?”

This time, Ana blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry?” she asked, frowning. A deliberate indignance welled within her. “I would never-”

The lady shook her head. “I know what I see, Ana,” she muttered. “We might be master-servant, but right now, that’s not what I want.”

She paused. “So. As a regular person, do I look foolish to you, Ana?” Everie spat. “Do I look... strange? Eccentric? Ungrateful? Selfish?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you want me to say, my Lady.”

Lady Everie stilled, before suspiring. “Right,” she said, bitterly. “We don’t really know each other, do we? Not that I know anyone here. Who am I to ask you this?”

She fell silent. Ana was quiet, too. Ruminating.

“I... I must-” Ana frowned, trying to think of the word. “I must confess, I don’t really understand you, my-”

“-Everie,” her Lady said, quietly. “Everie. I’m sick of Lady this and Lady that. It doesn’t feel right.”

“...I don’t really understand you... Everie,” Ana continued. “I-”

“What,” Lady- no, Everie choked. “Is it because I’m not getting stronger? Or because I can’t understand you- hell, is it because I have no fucking clue what’s going on?”

Everie wrung her hands. “What is my purpose here? For what reason was I-”

She fell silent, breathing heavily.

If the profanity had jarred Ana, she didn’t let it show. The ten-year-old let the toddler-princess calm, before she finally spoke.

“No,” she said, more resolutely than she actually felt. “I was... I was just going to ask why you think you have to do everything now.”

For the first time that night, Everie looked at her. Ana was taken aback at just how bright they were; like amethyst, only filled with sparks of dancing gold.

“...What?” Everie said. Her voice was low. Dangerous.

Ana sat straighter. “I might not know you well, miss,” she said, trembling. “But a month is enough. You’re always doing something. Always fighting, reading, studying-”

“-that’s because-!”

Ana interrupted her. “Always doing something,” she said. The momentum of her words bled away her fear. This... this needed to be said. If not from Daphne, then from her. “That- that’s not how a child should act. You have more than enough - your ladyship shouldn’t need more.”

“So I am selfish,” Everie choked. There was a rawness to her voice. It would have hurt Ana, if it hadn’t sounded like Everie was speaking more to herself than to Ana.

“No! No, no, no,” Ana said, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just... you seem desperate. That’s...”

She suspired. “That’s not anything like I expected the Princess of the Medean Dukedom to be like,” Ana said. “I was awed by that, at first. You’re... you’re so much more than those pathetic scoundrels-” her face contorted, before she reminded herself that this was her mistress and that she shouldn’t act in an unbecoming fashion in front of her, regardless of her orders to maintain a veneer of colloquialism. “-that call themselves nobles, back in Alerich. You’re inspiring. Smart. Strong - regardless of whether your ladyship thinks she lacks something.”

Ana exhaled, letting her heart palpitate slower. Her veins were filled with adrenaline. “But-” she said, with emphasis, “That’s not what you should be. We, Lady Daphne, and the Duchess, and everyone else is worried about you, miss.”

She sighed. “Pardon my disrespect - but you’re four years old, miss. When I said your ladyship shouldn’t need anything more, I was just trying to say that... there are people that love you here. And... I don’t think you should ignore that.”

As she spoke, Ana’s words turned to bitterness. Regret - that’s what it is. At having been so... aloof. So uncaring. So unmotivated.

Don’t waste your life, my Lady. Not when you have so much to live for.

Everie stared at her. She was completely still. It was as if the world had ground to a halt.

Far, far off in the night sky, a star fell. It sluiced like a teardrop on a plane of black void.

“I see,” Everie said. Her voice was perfectly steady and moderated, as per usual... although Ana felt it was a little more high-pitched than usual.

She sighed.

“Always doing something,” Everie muttered. Her voice was barely audible, despite the stillness of the night. “Always fighting.”

Then, suddenly, she flopped onto her back. Her violet-black locks splayed across the flat-blackstone surface. In the chill of the night, Everie’s hair seemed to meld into the darkness.

Under the scintillating starlight, though, it looked celestial. “You wouldn’t understand,” Everie said, suddenly.

Ana blinked. She felt puzzlement, before something akin to disappoint-

“But...” her Lady swallowed. “Thank you.”

They stared at each other. Ana felt something in her abdomen twitch.

“I’m glad to have been of assistance, my la- Everie,” she whispered. Ana slid down onto her back, joining her lady on the rooftop.

They stayed there like that for a while. Just watching the stars. And nature. And feeling the breeze. Ana closed her eyes. She felt it. Sensed it.

It was beautiful. It was... everywhere. Everything.

By the time she reopened her eyes, Ana felt exactly the same. But somehow, she also felt different.

“Ana,” Everie said. The voice of her lady snapped Ana out of her contemplation.

“Yes?”

Her mistress snorted. “There’s no need to be so formal with me,” she said, sighing. “I... talk stiffly because I have a child’s body. To adults, at least. But...”

She swallowed. “With you, I guess I don’t need that. Not if we’re going to be together for a long time yet.”

Ana’s eyes widened. “Huh?” she squeaked.

Everie laughed. It was a melodious sound - but unlike before, it didn’t sound fake. Artificial.

Her chuckle had a brusque tint to it. Suddenly, her voice sounded more weathered. Tempered. Casual. More like the countryfolk Ana knew than what befit a noble scion.

“Just- you can speak with me as a- as a friend,” Everie stuttered, grimacing. “Hells. I guess Briar was right,” she laughed. “I... respect Daphne, but I could never talk to her like this. Make friends your age, Briar said? Well, I guess you’re close enough.”

“I’m-” honored, Ana wanted to say, but she realized that would run counter to the whole point of this conversation. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Everie said, calmly. Ana closed her eyes. After another spate of silence, her Lady spoke once more.

“Say, Ana,” she said, quietly. “Do you... ever think I’ll be able to use magic?”

“Hmm?” Ana murmured. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to deny it,” Everie said, quietly. “I know you think I’m young. That I don’t need this. But that really isn’t the case.”

“...is this because of something I don’t know? The thing you said I don’t understand?” Ana asked. Her eyes were still closed.

It took a moment for Everie to respond. “Yes,” she said, finally.

“Any chance you could tell me?” Ana asked.

She still felt that undercurrent of apprehension when stepping ‘over her station’ - as her mother would have called it, back when recanting her experiences with etiquette - but even that was gradually subsiding.

Ana wasn’t that shellshocked, fearful girl anymore. She wouldn’t be. Couldn’t be. That was what Anabellum had been, not her.

Her past would always bind her. That, even Ana knew. But at the very least, she was different now. Different in that she was stronger.

If Lady Everie wanted a friend, then a friend she would be.

They would be master-servant ‘till the end of her days. This was just a new method of servitude for her.

“No,” Everie responded, firmly. “It’s... sad.”

“Sad?” Ana said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Everie murmured. “Sad. It’s a sad story.”

Ana sighed. “I won’t press you on that, then,” she said. “But as for magic... I really think you’ll be fine, Everie. But you won’t be fine if you don’t slow down and let yourself think about who you are.”

They weren’t looking at each other, but Ana was convinced Everie was unconvinced.

So she changed tack.

“Paths,” she whispered. That caught Everie’s attention; the princess suddenly snapped towards her, eyes wide.

“Daphne said it isn’t a subject that’s taught,” Everie murmured. “It’s... very soul-searchy. Preachy.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like it,” she said. “I... it’s a problem. And I can’t fix it.”

“I think that’s your problem,” Ana said, honestly. “A mathematician might be able to solve a problem in their head. An assassin might murder someone to silence them.”

Everie blinked. Ana thought she looked a little queasy at her last line, but she wasn’t sure why.

“But those are the easy ways out,” she continued. “My mother and I didn’t talk much, but what I do remember about her was the way she did her sowing.”

Ana raised her fist into the air. She unclasped her hand, cupping a star in her palm.

“She’d solve a problem in so many different ways, she’d know both herself and her obstacle inside out before solving it,” Ana said, quietly. “But sometimes, she just brute-forced it. The threads would just come together, like magic.”

Twilight trickled out of her hands. “Maybe actual magic isn’t so different. Maybe a path isn’t something we can look for. It’s something that comes to us as we go around our lives.”

Purpose isn’t just a given thing that can be found. It has to be created. The road whet. The path found.

Ana had read those lines in a textbook, but here, surrounded by the aria of open twilight, they seemed to resound all the more powerfully.

They didn’t talk at all after that. The two of them stayed out for another hour, before climbing back down the Manor wall into Everie’s bedroom.

Ana tucked her into bed - she was still the older girl, after all, as well as the Lady’s maid - before falling into bed next door herself. Daphne was already sound asleep, to her amusement. The study table in the corner of their room was covered in mechanical bits and bobs that Ana couldn’t even begin to comprehend the use for.

Looks like she had fun, Ana thought, smiling. Scholarship really is her path.

I’m… glad.

Daphne, after all, had a tortured past as well.

She frowned.

I guess I’m pretty good at this path-stuff, huh? She mused. I haven’t awakened my magic yet, but I feel like it’ll be soon.

The subject of Ana’s own awakening had been on her mind for a while now; somehow, she knew that when she did finally access her magic, she would have her path solidified with it. That was a rare thing, too - not very many people figured out their paths in the entirety of their lives. It wasn’t even needed to progress past the first six Layers, after all.

Lady Everie was just an oddity. She was talented, but something was preventing her from becoming who she was meant to be. That was why her predicament was all the more confusing.

She slid, slowly, into the recesses of sleep.

What’ll it be for me? What is the destiny I’ve decided for my future? Survivor? No, that... doesn’t feel right. Servant? But my relationship with Everie isn’t that simple anymore.

Knight? Ana frowned. No. Lord Vernas is probably right. I would love to serve Medea, but that’s not who I am.

Oh, whatever. I’ll think about it tomorrow.