The blonde-haired man flopped face-forward onto the large bed, uncaring that his jacket was getting wrinkled. The door of his walk-in wardrobe opened and shut behind him as a navy-haired mage appeared, and grabbed a large square pillow from the windowsill’s seating area. He casually dumped himself cross-legged on the pillow on the ground and took his glasses off. He was once again dressed in his flowy dark-blue mage robes, which Efratel was feeling rather jealous about, stuffy as he was in his formal wear. Unfortunately, testing his father’s wrath by wearing clothes ‘unacceptable for the Baron’s heir’ was not something he was willing to try. Ever.

He groaned as he rolled over, staring at the roof. “Who was the Levin kid?” he asked Marellen.

Marellen had a pen cap in his mouth as he drew mana-circles on a piece of paper. “Sh’olow”

“Solow. Hmm. Do you think he would look good bald?” he mused.

Marellen removed the pen lid to talk. “I was thinking a potion that turned his skin black in places would be better. Apparently, he’s meeting with some rich merchant’s girl for a potential arranged marriage this week. I think he’d be really charming and she’d fall right for him when he looks like he has the plague.”

Efratel turned his head to frown at his cousin. “Where do you find out this stuff? Nobody ever tells me what Levin’s kids are up to.”

The mage shrugged without looking up. “Because everybody knows I don’t care enough about politics to waste my time dealing with them. The maids love to gossip around me.”

“And they still haven’t caught on to the fact you repeat this all to me?” he asked, sceptical.

Marellen tapped on his chin with the pen, oblivious to the accidental blue lines he drew on himself. “I think only the head maid knows about the short-range teleportation circle I made in your closet when I was 10. And my father, who said quote ‘I want my own to mess with Hector’ unquote. That was how the ghost story of the Baron’s bathroom began.” He touched the pen to the page in front of him.

Efratel sighed. “Whatever then. I’ll start reading this letter.”

He opened it up, falling silent as he read the documents inside. He slowly put the white temporary Headquarters access card in his pocket. Then he frowned and sat up. He stayed silent, searching through the envelope, and counting on his fingers for a good ten minutes. He stared at his room’s front door for a while, thinking. Then he turned to face his cousin, feeling apprehensive.

“Marellen,” he began questioningly. “Your memory is better than mine. How many items am I supposed to have in this envelope?”

“Three. The invitation card, the ball details, and the competition details.” He stiffened for a moment and then raised his eyes to narrow them at Efratel. “I sense trouble.”

Efratel ignored him, an increasingly worried expression growing on his face. “Have I ever unknowingly met a high-ranked member of the Commission, or been to Headquarters? Or even Gilded Seat?” he asked anxiously.

Marellen slowly got up from the floor and began backing away. “Leave me out of this, Efratel. I don’t want to die at 23. I’ve got thousands of years still left in me.”

Efratel dropped the envelope and its contents and grabbed his hair in his hands, letting out a scream of frustration and anguish through gritted teeth. “Why does this keep happening to me?!” he growled. “Damned distorters of Fate, just leave me alone!”

Marellen blinked. “That bad?”

Efratel roughly yanked out a small piece of paper from within the envelope, holding out the crumpled paper to let Marellen look, appearing a little insane with the messy hair and wide eyes. “I’m cursed, I tell you. The realms are out to get me.”

Letting his curiosity get the better of his sense of danger and self-preservation like it normally does, Marellen slowly walked forward to grab the piece of paper and sit on the edge of the bed. He frowned and put on his gold-framed glasses, reading what appeared to be a letter.

“Oh,” he finally replied. He turned to look at his cousin. “I wish you luck in the afterlife.”

Greetings, Efratel Vadel.

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and not dead due to the political ploys of Alichanteu. That wouldn’t make me particularly pleased, and I suspect neither would it you. It has been some time since we met, but I enjoyed our conversation. I suppose you have no clue who I am though. I hope so because I went to great lengths to ensure my identity was not revealed by the messengers.

I am writing because I would like to ask that you come to the Headquarters, at least a week earlier than the debut beginning date. That is because I would like to meet with you privately to discuss a few things. Which may or may not include revealing to me the exact nature of your trip to the Permafrost Glacial Abode. I hope we have a nice meeting because even if you try to avoid coming, I do have the authority to order you to Headquarters. Just a reminder. Looking forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely, the Aurelian Commission’s new Faction Head.

P.S. Please burn the letter. Maybe use Marellen.

Efratel scowled. “If I die because of this, I’m going to become a ghost in Tartarus to devote my life to revenge.”

Marellen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How does a ghost get revenge on cardiac arrest?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Efratel deadpanned. Then he paused and stared at Marellen. “Actually, no. That is not funny. Not funny at all.” He frowned and placed a hand on his chest where his heart was. “Don’t let me die from stress.”

Marellen hummed as he re-read the letter. “It almost feels like it’s been written by a girl. The writing looks a bit feminine.”

Efratel scowled and snatched the paper away from him. “And what would you know about female writing?”

“I received just as many love letters as you,” Marellen pointed out.

The blonde-haired man cocked an eyebrow. “How? I got at least three times as many each day as a teenager.”

The mage shook his messy mop of hair. “Those weren’t love letters. Those were offers for arranged marriages.”

Efratel contemplated this for a short moment, before rolling his eyes when he couldn’t refute.

Marellen leaned over to read the letter in Efratel’s hand again. “If it was from a girl…” he began. He looked up and stared at Efratel. “You don’t have a secret hidden long-lost female childhood friend you’ve never told me about who now wants to see you again after years, do you?”

Efratel stared back at him, dumbfounded. “That’s your guess?”

The mage shrugged. “If it was, the older members of the Barony would be pleased. They’ve been worried about your lack of interest in romance.”

Efratel gestured to the letter in his hands. “How could I have time for that with all this? Besides, what is it with old people and trying to matchmake the young when they got married when they were over a hundred?” he frowned.

Marellen lay down on the bed. “Well, it doesn’t affect me. They never had expectations for my love life prospects anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, magic-addict,” Efratel grumbled. “Use your amazing brain to puzzle this out.”

They fell silent as they thought over possible answers for why Efratel had the letter. Marellen spoke up, “Now, even if they did know you, is there any conceivable reason why they’d want to meet you again? Besides that really obvious line about the trip.” He shuddered.

The blonde-haired man shook his head. “I’m the heir to a Baron of a Major Kingdom. The Commission Head is going to be an Honorary Count of the Aeternus plane, the Empire true. We’re worlds apart.”

“Then I’m lost. It’s definitely the real Commission Head, right?” the mage replied.

“The letter had a seal made of violet wax, the same as the envelope had. I don’t think it could be anyone else unless they were close to them and borrowed the stamp,” he said, frowning.

Marellen sighed and sat up. “Oh well. Work it out yourself. This doesn’t involve me anyway.”

Efratel stared at his younger cousin. “Of course it does. The letter even mentioned you.”

Marellen slowly turned his head to stare back at Efratel. “No it didn’t,” he stated.

“Yes it did,” Efratel replied.

Marellen frowned, and grabbed the letter, shifting his round glasses. “I don’t believe you,” he told him. He re-read the letter.

Efratel leaned forward to point to the last line. “There, you see?”

Marellen froze as he read the message. He closed the letter and then reopened it. There was no change. He closed it again and then reopened it. There was still no change.

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He nervously turned to stare at Efratel with wide eyes.

Efratel smirked, feeling a bit of schadenfreude. “Seems we’re both going to Tartarus.”

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

“Vincent! It’s been ages since I last saw you! Come in, I’ll make us some tea before you catch me up on recent events.”

Vincent sighed with a wry smile on his face as he followed the shorter woman in, her long grass-green hair that was blooming with tiny flowers drifting behind her. Melissa Evisenhardt was an interesting person. She always seemed happy to see him, even amidst the politics of the Evisenhardt County. It felt a bit off to be back, actually. Crossing paths with his siblings was awkward at the best of times, on account of the second youngest sibling being 50 years older than him, but now, after he had become the aide of the Commission Head, and was the second most powerful person within the Commission besides the Counts…

He grimaced. The few siblings he had crossed paths with had been slightly colder than normal, likely feeling threatened by his position. None of them had been Melissa Evisenhardt’s three bubbly girls or son though. Melissa was his father’s second wife. She was a retired wizard of the Green Tower, her affinity being wood, and she dual classed as a wood-element mage as well, the elemental manifestation giving her the hair. His father married her for political reasons, as he did the other two, but Melissa hadn’t married him for that. She was aware of what she was getting into but didn’t seem to mind. When Vincent had asked at one point, she had replied with ‘I get a cushy job and a big family. I want nothing else’.

That didn’t stop Vincent from feeling out of place as he stepped into the shimmering viridescent greenhouse that doubled as her home. Even the chairs and tables were made of strong twisted vines, ivy and flowers blooming everywhere from the roof to the floor to the walls. She made excellent tea, however. A fact she demonstrated by bringing out a tea set with the steaming hot, red, freshly brewed liquid, and pouring him a cup. He breathed in as he took a sip, feeling the relaxing energy of this particular brew spread through him.

“Rather strong colour,” he told her as she took a seat opposite him, her green cloak blooming with multicoloured flowers and dropping small petals here and then.

She smiled and nodded. “I’ve developed a new hybrid breed of hibiscus-rose. I was planning on sending you some of the tea when I heard you became the Faction Head’s aide. It’s one of my sweeter varieties,” she said with a wink.

He coughed awkwardly as she just laughed. His love for sweets was one thing Lucille had yet to discover. He hoped. Otherwise, she might just find the bitterest tea she could just to torment him. The 8th circle wizard opposite him rested her head on her hand and gazed at him with a smile. “So, I’ve heard a little, but I’d like to hear what has happened from your mouth.”

He spent a bit of time just catching up with the cheerful woman, telling her what had happened over the past month from his perspective. “And then I found out, to my irritation, that Lucille had, in fact, ordered most, if not all of her outer clothes and jackets to be some shade of bright violet. I still feel like I’m seeing the afterimages of her closet,” he finished, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. He went to take another sip of his drink.

Melissa laughed with her musical voice. “She sounds interesting.” She tapped on her chin with a long elegant finger. “Is she pretty?”

Vincent paused, swallowed his drink, and sighed. Then he shot her an irritated look. “Why are you asking me this?”

Melissa blinked, a bit confused, before breaking out into another laugh and sending him a dismissive wave. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that. No, I was wondering how many marriage proposals she’d be getting in the next few months.”

He felt his thoughts freeze to a halt, an indescribably strange expression on his face. Lucy and… someone? That just… no, no that just felt so wrong. He hadn’t explicitly asked her about it but…. even with the fact that she seemed to have no life outside working, her mental age was literally almost 250. Anyone who proposed to her was going to be at the very least not even 10% of her age, and he felt she was utterly uninterested in those things anyway. With how she had dealt with Annaliese, Sedric and Scytale most of the time, she didn’t seem to have the greatest ability to pretend they were her peers. He doubted she’d have the patience to deal with that type of suggestion from someone younger than her.

Melissa observed his expression with interest. “It seems there’s some issues surrounding that idea,” she said.

He slowly nodded, lifting his tea to drink again. “To say the least,” he replied awkwardly. He hesitated, wondering if he could ask Melissa a question that had been on his mind for some time.

“If I say there was someone who revealed themselves to have a soul age of over 200 while being in a younger body…” he began. “For what reason would the System have granted them a reincarnation?”

She blinked and gazed down at the table in thought as she pondered over his question. “What an interesting hypothetical… I’ve only heard of it happening 3 times after the assimilation of the realm but….” She looked up and narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s an extremely specific question, Vincent. And looking at the theme of our conversation for the last half hour… it wouldn’t have anything to do with this new Faction Head of ours, would it?”

He grimaced, aware he was taking a risk. But it would spread within the Counties eventually, as the Counts and their heirs already knew, and he trusted Melissa, who only loved her family and her plants, to not pry. She proved him correct when she reclined back in her chair, shrugging with a wry smile on her face.

“All right. I won’t ask. But as for your question….” she mused, tapping on her chin. “If the System granted that reward, it could only be for a few, very rare reasons. One is that it made an error, and wanted them to not suffer the consequences of its faulty actions.”

He raised an eyebrow and she nodded. “Yes, it’s practically impossible. I don’t even think it has happened before, but the Athenaeum says it could happen like that. The second is they have a unique ability that can’t be replicated very easily by anyone, even the System, and it hadn’t found someone who could reach the same potential with the ability, and therefore wanted to reincarnate them so they could find some way to pass on their teachings.”

He blinked. That didn’t sound like Lucy. She joined the Commission and wanted to expand it. Not settle down with a successor and pass on her knowledge. Maybe eventually but…. she was busy.

Melissa picked up her tea to take a sip. “The third is that they were so immensely powerful, that the System stored their souls to offer them reincarnation when it needed them for some great disaster later on that it couldn’t easily solve by using normal Users. Maybe they were a great hero.”

He scratched his chin, contemplating it. Maybe she was powerful, but…. “Great evil, more likely,” he muttered. He looked to the side, avoiding eye contact when he noticed Melissa’s eyes narrow curiously.

“Has time travel ever been possible?” he asked her, trying to move on.

She blinked, an odd expression on her face. “And what is someone who’s not a member of All-Aeon Athenaeum doing, contemplating things like this?” she questioned.

“Someone mentioned it to me in passing and now it’s been on my mind,” he replied blandly, reaching out to pour himself some more tea.

Melissa quirked an eyebrow but smiled and wryly shook her head. “It’s impossible.”

He nodded, finally getting the response he needed to put the idea to res-

“But not necessarily because it can’t happen,” she continued, ignoring him as he flinched, almost missing the teacup as he poured tea from the teapot.

He looked up, incredulous. “It’s a thing?”

She shimmied her hand to say, ‘kind of’. “There’s no proof. But some have theorised that’s how the primal beasts disappeared. And the reason why it’s impossible is because why would the System, when it tries to propagate the collection of all knowledge, ever permanently cut a piece of itself off by sending a User to the past or future and become unable to receive that particular piece of information?” Then she held up a finger. “But timelines are a thing.”

He frowned, picking up the teacup. “Timelines?”

She nodded. “Parallel realms where everything is almost the same, but events occur differently. And I know for a fact that timelines do exist because I’ve seen one myself.”

He tilted his head, confused, and making her smile. “I’ve been to a pocket dimension that was created to be an identical version of a Minor plane 212,000 years ago. Every particle of mana and matter had been copied and placed in a perfect representation of a natural mana phenomenon that destroyed the plane, captured somehow by Saufren Lestial in the past. And there’s an even more common example. Stages.”

He felt his eyes widen as he realised what she meant. “So, that’s why they share so many similarities to the realms, but never any historical accuracy.”

She crossed one leg over the other with a lazy smile. “Of course, both examples are technically not ‘true’ timelines, but many people have theorised that timelines are how the System controls the realms. By making millions of them and determining the best route for the main timeline by following the past examples of ended timelines.” She continued, “If you got sent to the past in a younger body, in a timeline that was copied from a point in your past, then I suppose you could say time travel exists. But not fully, because your original timeline still exists, running events situated sometime in the ‘future’, or the timeline was at least stopped by the System before your new timeline.”

He rubbed his neck. Now he was even more confused. Melissa noticed his reaction and shook her head. “This is why we don’t talk about it to those out of the All-Aeon Athenaeum. It’s confusing, and many mages have tried to find a way to escape to a different timeline. It never works. No User has ever escaped to another true timeline on their own effort, or if they had, then we’ll never find out.” She shrugged. “I suggest you don’t concern yourself with it.”

He nodded and decided to think about this back at the Headquarters. He placed down his teacup and leaned forward with a serious expression on his face. “Actually, I came here for another reason,” he stated.

Melissa pouted. “Aww, you didn’t come here to see little ol’ me?” She began laughing again when she saw the awkward expression once again on his face. “I’m just teasing you,” she said. “What’s your request?”

He replaced the glasses hanging around his neck on his face as he answered. “I want you to suggest some people from Evisenhardt that could be my subordinates.”

She raised an eyebrow and gestured to him to keep going, so he did. “The Commission Head has requested that I ask for subordinates from Evisenhardt. I wanted to ask you because as someone with no interest in the County’s politics, your suggestions would be less biased.”

She smirked. “Are you trying to take advantage of our relationship, Vincent?” She laughed again. “Oh well. Why do you need a less biased opinion though?”

He crossed his arms and frowned slightly as he gazed at the floor. “Because I need people who can follow my requests without pushing for too much political power. The plans that will be instituted have been organised by all four Counties and the Commission Head. I can’t have subordinates who want to mess that up. Mother would try to place some of my eldest brother’s subordinates under me, no matter how capable they are, and Genevieve….” He shuddered. “Mother would kill me if I asked the 3rd wife for anything.”

Melissa twirled her hair. “Hmm. It feels surprising to see the Counts going along with the Faction Head’s plans so easily. Are they up to something?”

He hesitated but shook his head. “I don’t think so. They’re happy to implement her plans because they can see the merit in them, and wouldn’t pass up a free opportunity to gain more control over the vassals. As for how ‘loyal’ they are….” He shrugged. “I believe they’re just taking a watch-and-wait stance. For them, she’s an unknown. They want to see how capable she is, if it’s worth removing her to put another leader in place, or if she’ll be too much effort.”

The wood-element wizard pointed a teaspoon at him. “Which reminds me. Are you allowed to stay here for so long? I’ve heard the invitations for the lower nobility have begun being sent, but don’t you need to visit Ravimoux?” she asked curiously.

Vincent gained a strange expression on his face. “When I sent a message to Count Ravimoux saying I would be coming to formally deliver the invitations, he replied by telling me not to bother, as he would deal with spreading the appropriate rumours to make it seem like I visited. His message said, ‘It’s not like you have anyone else to give invitations to’.”

They fell silent as they considered the implications of the Count’s words. When the Count had ascended to his position 9 years ago, there had been a..... purge. They both shuddered. Melissa grimaced slightly. “Moving on then,” she said, to his eager nods.

She gazed at the ground, tapping her fingers against the table. She looked up. “How many subordinates?” she asked.

He thought for a moment. “I’m thinking two. I don’t yet have enough work that it needs both of them, but as the work increases, they’ll be able to adjust to it at a smooth rate.”

She hummed as she contemplated it. “Well, if you need to please your mother… what about Caius?”

Vincent blinked. “Caius? Caius, that little upstart who tried to expand into the Beast Realm with his father’s businesses?”

She smiled as she nodded. “The very same. He even had quite a bit of success. He came back because he had been bored, however. He has a tidy profit from his shares in the business that could enable him to live the rest of his life without working, but you know how he is.” She shrugged helplessly.

He held his chin. “Well, his father is a supporter of mother’s favourite, my eldest brother. And Caius is not the heir of his father either. I haven’t seen him for what, twelve years now?” he mused. “We used to play together as a kid. It would be nice to catch up. If he wants something interesting to do, then helping me with Lucille’s plans would entertain him for sure.”

She smiled. “Then I’ll see if he wants to go. If he does, I’ll send him to the ball.”

“Any ideas for the second?” he asked.

She hummed again and then smiled widely. “You know what, I’ll send them as a pair. Caius and Jacques Rouzet. I’m sure that combination will make things interesting.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard for a while. He and Caius used to be inseparable. Jacques was Caius’s…..” he furrowed his brows as he tried to remember.

“Second cousin from the maternal side. He’s just finished studying at the Academy, but he’s been feeling a bit lost on what to do. He passed with top marks though,” she told him.

“But if he’s a talent like that, then he should’ve been put to work already,” he said curiously, raising an eyebrow.

She hesitated. “Well, there’s been some… issues relating to the type of people he involved himself with during his time at the Academy.”

He idly ran a finger down the silver chain of his glasses. “What, bad people politically speaking, or ruffians of some kind…?”

She shook her head. “Worse. Or at least for Evisenhardt’s vassals. Commoners.”

“Of course, they would complain about that.” He replied, frowning. “They’re not even part of Olden, for goodness’ sake, why do they have such a rigid mindset about them?”

“You forget, Vincent dear, that for them, commoners are a real threat to their position,” she replied wryly, picking up her teacup. “When nearly millions of people can easily ascend to Baronet and even Baron within their lifetime by just showcasing their fighting ability to the Empire, you would obviously be fearful that the newcomers would overtake you in power.”

“But that doesn’t mean you need to avoid them, that means you need to bring them into the nobility and let them contribute to your family,” he responded, still frowning. “Who cares if Jacques is friends with commoners if he can get talented people to work for us? It’s like they’re trying to appeal to Olden, even though Evisenhardt is part of the neutral fac…tion…” his voice trailed off.

Vincent remembered the discussion he had with Lucy about their potentially being Olden spies within the Counties that have gone undetected. If they were being so obstinate about Jacques avoiding commoners…. he might need to commission Ravimoux to do in-depth research into those vassals’ backgrounds. He raised his eyes to look at Melissa. “Could I perhaps have a list of those who are against Jacques’s relation with commoners?”

She eyed him for a moment and then nodded. “Seems like there’s trouble. I won’t pry.”

He gave a thankful nod. “As for Jacques, I’m fine with him as a choice as well. He’s a far better option than most of Evisenhardt’s people because at least I know him.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to give him a little push. He’s been dawdling for too long,” she replied, a mischievous smile on her face. “Well, if that’s the formal conversation over, then would you like to come see some of my new flower breeds?” she asked him.

With a wry smile, he nodded and stood up. “I’ll have to see if there’s any we should grow at the Headquarters.”

As Vincent followed behind the green-haired wizard, he decided he would leave the complicated thinking until later. He would enjoy the small break he had left because once he left the family estate of Evisenhardt, he wouldn’t be coming back for some time. It made him feel bittersweet, but he was looking forward to what new changes would be coming to the Commission in the next few years, and he wouldn’t miss the chance to be right at the centre of them by being too attached to his cold family home.

He also felt like Lucille might start a coup d’état of the Empire if he stayed too long, just because she didn’t want to deal with nobles. It would be best to stop that before it began.