Appendix 1: Anatoly’s magic lecture (abridged):
It is commonly taught that magic has different types or elements, those being water, fire, wind, earth, light, and space, but this line of thinking is fallacious, and anyone who wishes to pursue magic at an advanced level would do well to erase that thought from their mind entirely. The elements are a good classification for spell techniques and effects, but if you try to apply elemental thought to raw mana, your spells will be weak and inefficient and limited to what the System allows you. Mana itself has no attributes, and that does not change no matter how you manipulate it. Understanding this fact will allow you to become not just a magic-user, but a true mage.
It is often thought that the magic skills learned at fancy academies or from good tutors are different and more powerful than the skills granted by the System to the uneducated, but that is not the case. The spells and skills are identical, but an educated mage will have a more thorough understanding of how they work, enabling a level of efficiency and versatility that an ordinary magic-user can only dream of.
…
“Affinity” is actually quite an apt word to describe one’s aptitude for certain types of magic, though its origins have the opposite meaning. It was once thought that an affinity was a measurement of how much one was loved by certain types of mana. Obviously, that is false, as we have now discovered that mana is naturally unattributed, but the word can still be used well. Rather than a measurement of how much the element likes the mage, an affinity is more of a measurement of how much the mage likes the element, and how well they understand it.
In the morning at exactly sunrise, I went down into the lobby to flip the sign on the door to indicate that the store was open. Anatoly was still eating his breakfast upstairs, but he had said that he would come down if any customer I couldn’t handle arrived. The pricing at his store was very simple: each book was one silver, regardless of length, author, material, rarity, or any other factors that would normally affect the price. For some more common books, this would be too much, but Anatoly generally didn’t stock those types of books. Every single one was hand-selected by him, and he had read them all to verify their contents. Though reading was not a common hobby in Astraeus, to all who enjoyed it, Anatoly’s store was the best place to go, since they were always guaranteed to get quality goods.
For the first two hours, there was no one. I spent that time reading a book I had picked out from the history section at random about some ancient war between two nations that no longer existed. It wasn’t useful to me at all, but it was well-written and interesting, so I kept with it, even when Anatoly came down to join me.
“The Lily War?” he said when he saw what I was reading.
“Mhmm,” I said, flipping the page without looking up.
“That was a fascinating time period. I can’t say it was my favorite, but there were some very entertaining characters. The king of Valteria was especially amusing. I don’t know how he got it in his head that the dragon queen loved him, but I can’t deny his dedication to his cause.”
“What makes dragons so special?” I asked. “Why are they so strong?”
“Well, there are a few things. First and most obviously is their bodies. In their natural forms, dragons have an estimated average of 60 in all their base physical stats. An adult dragon’s skin is nigh impenetrable, even without shielding it with aura or mana. Second is their mana. From birth, Dragons are granted a racial skill that triples their mana, so even in their human forms, they are still formidable mages. And third is their transformation ability. There are other monsters that can disguise themselves as humans, but only dragons have the intelligence to actually make it work in the long term.”
“I see,” I said before returning to the book.
He watched me read for another minute before speaking again.
“My regular should be arriving soon. Did you practice your greeting?”
“I already knew how to curtsy,” I said. “I just didn’t know that I needed to do it when greeting people.”
“And your wig is on firmly? No chance of it slipping?”
“Yes, just like it has been for the last ten hours.”
“And you have your backstory straight?”
I sighed, and closed the book to stare up at him. “I’m from a small town in the eastern side of Ravel called Schmitt. It’s very small and isolated, so I don’t know much about the world. My grandfather did you a favor sixty years ago, and he’s decided to call in the favor by sending me to study with you for however long you can stand me.”
“For however long you need it,” he corrected. “You got into an accident on the way here, and-”
“-had to be rescued by Rafael, which is why I was in the state I was in when I first entered the town and met Leah. In another accident before I left, my hair caught fire, so we had to shave it all off, and there were no hairdressers in Schmitt skilled enough to regrow it. I have a rare form of albinism, hence my unique appearance, and I get embarrassed about my eyes, which is why I’m now disguising them. Yes, I know. I’m ready. I won’t make any mistakes. You don’t have to confirm everything again. You already did it last night.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But Leah is very sharp. You already made a mistake in front of her, and she’s already seen your true hair and eye color. You can say that you didn’t know because you’re a country girl, but I doubt that will clear all her suspicions. And my regular is not oblivious either. If you slip up in front of her, she will notice. And neither of those girls are people you want gossiping about you.”
“I understand,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
That finally seemed to satisfy him, and he gave me a few last nagging words of encouragement before letting me get back to my book. As you can see, after getting a bit more comfortable with me, Anatoly had revealed his true nature of an overprotective parent. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but it did bring back memories of Valerie (may she burn in hell) and it was getting on my nerves.
The regular he spoke of arrived close to nine in the morning. As soon as I saw her, even before I knew her family situation, I pitied her. She wasn’t ugly, but she was only almost beautiful, which in my opinion might be worse. Every one of her features was just a little bit off from ideal, and altogether gave her an unbalanced, uncanny appearance. It was as if someone had used a video game character creator to craft the ideal woman, then bumped every slider a tick or two in a random direction before hitting save. Her nose was a bit too wide, her ears too protrusive, her eyes set too far apart, her upper lip too big and the lower too small, her chin too weak, and her figure too rectangular. She was far from repulsive, and under no circumstances could she be considered pretty, but “plain” was not an apt descriptor either. The best word I can think of to describe her appearance– and her life– is “unfortunate.”
“Ah, Sylvia, welcome in,” said Anatoly. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
On cue, I stood up and gave my curtsy. “My name is Lucille, and I’ll be working here starting today. Nice to meet you.”
The unfortunate girl curtsied back, though differently than me, and I then realized that she was a noble. It was impossible to tell from her clothing, since it was ordinary-looking and unadorned, but seeing her do the odd curtsy/bow/one-legged squat thing that Anatoly said that only nobles did, it became obvious.
“I am Lady Sylvia of house Lyon,” she said with a voice that sounded like she was congested. “But I do not care much for family names or titles. Feel free to call me Sylvia. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
“Thank you. You can call me Lucy, if you want to, though.”
“I will. Thank you, Lucy.” She turned to the elf. “Anatoly, I was not aware that you needed help at the shop. I assume there are some special circumstances involved?”
“Ah, yes,” he said. “I’ve taken Lucy in as my student to repay a favor done for me by an old friend.”
“You are quite lucky then. You couldn’t find a better teacher.”
“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity.”
“Anatoly, have you thought any further about my family’s offer?”
“I have not,” he said cheerfully. “My answer remains unchanged.”
“Then do you have any more book recommendations? I finished History of Etiquette last night and I’m in the mood for something a little more exciting this time.”
“I always do,” he said. “Right this way.”
He led her over to a bookshelf full of non fiction books, and started talking through a few of the options. I listened in, but the conversation was mundane and outside my area of expertise, so there was nothing I could add to it. A half hour later, Sylvia walked out the door with five new books stored in a dimensional pouch on her hip.
“Is she related to the infamous Duke Lyon?” I asked Anatoly as soon as she was gone.
“Yes. She is one of his children. The 40th, to be precise.”
“What is she doing out here? What was the offer from her family she was talking about?”
“The Lyons have recently acquired an ancient artifact, and they need someone to decipher the glyphs. I am not willing to go to the capital to do the job, and the duke is unwilling to come here or send the artifact, or even send me a transcription of the glyphs, so we are at an impasse. Sylvia has the responsibility of trying to change my mind. Like her father, she is stubborn, even after two months, she still hasn’t given up, but unlike her father, she is polite and pleasant, and I enjoy her company, so we’ve formed an odd business-friendship of sorts.”
“How often does she come in?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Every morning,” he said. “As you saw, she always starts by asking if I’ve reconsidered her offer, and I always say no, and then we talk for a bit, and then she leaves. Sometimes she buys books, like she did today, but only after she’s finished reading all the ones she already has. I expect you will soon know her quite well.”
“I guess so. Also, I forget to mention before, but my Satiety is getting quite low.” I checked my HUD to see it was down to 30. “Where can I safely get blood?”
“Right here.” He held up a hand and a small glass bottle full of dark red liquid appeared.
“Is that blood?”
“Yes?”
“Whose? Where did you get it? Why were you just carrying it around?”
“It belonged to a powerful mage whose name I can’t recall at the moment. They traded it to me in exchange for my services, and I have it because I used to deal with vampires often, and vampires were always in need of good blood.”
“But… didn’t the vampires all die out over a thousand years ago?”
“Correct.”
“So that blood is over a thousand years old?”
“Not exactly. It has been in my [Inventory], and time does not pass there, so while I may have had it for that long, it is still as fresh as the day it was drawn.” He held the bottle out to me, and I took it tentatively.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said. “I can’t have my employee getting sick on her first day.”
I was nervous, since it was my first time drinking blood, but Anatoly didn’t know that, or at least I thought he didn’t, so I couldn’t show too much hesitation. I stared at the bottle, steeled myself, then twisted the lid off.
As it turned out, steeling myself wasn’t necessary. As soon as the lid came off, a heavenly aroma drifted from the bottle and into my nostrils, and I went from trying to hide my hesitance, to trying to hide my anticipation. As soon as I smelled the blood, I wanted nothing more than to turn the bottle bottom up and drain the whole thing. Unwittingly, my fangs began to extend, and I had to force them back to a normal looking position.
I lifted the bottle to my lips, preparing to take only a sip, but once the liquid touched my lips, I practically lost control of my body. I tilted my head back, letting the blood pour down my throat as my fangs extended to their full length, scraping against the glass rim. In just a few seconds, there was not a single drop left. I set the bottle down, and pretended to wipe my mouth to hide my fangs that I still couldn’t manage to retract.
“Good, yes?” he said with a smile. “It was very high quality blood. The mage who gave it to me was a relatively young archmage in very good health. The vampires of the past would have considered it a delicacy and reserved it for special occasions.”
“How much was that worth?” I asked.
“Almost nothing, now,” he said. “With no vampires, there are no buyers for it. It’s just been gathering figurative dust for centuries. You don’t need to worry about paying me back for it. If not for you, it would never see any use.”
“Hm. Fine. That’s great and all, but what about when I’m on my own? Do I just go down to the butcher and ask for all of his pig blood? Do hospitals carry blood in this world? Even if they did, it’s not like I could just go in and ask to buy it. That would really suspicious.”
Anatoly shrugged. “Just go say you’re making blood sausages. It would probably be wise to go to a different butcher each time. And why would a hospital carry blood?”
“So that if a patient has lost a lot of blood, they can give them a transfusion to fill them back up.”
“Does your world not have priests who can replenish blood?”
“No. No we do not.”
“Fascinating. Do your priests still know other healing spells?”
“There are no priests in my world,” I said. “Not the same kind as you have here, at least. We only have doctors to help heal injuries and illness.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
“It was.”
The rest of the day passed very slowly. We only got about a dozen customers before sundown, and they didn’t talk for as long as Sylvia had, so for most of the day I had nothing to do. I used that time to first finish my book, and second start learning how to use magic. As a beginner, I was still learning how to sense mana, which was difficult, since it’s hard to meditate with unpredictable interruptions occurring, but by closing time, I had earned the [Mana Sense] skill and leveled up to 5.
You have reached level 5. You may now choose your first class.
[Options]
“Another level?” asked Anatoly. “What level are you now?”
“How did you know?”
“Your mana and aura just increased.”
“Oh. Well, yeah, I’m level 5 now.”
“Ah, then you should now be seeing your class selection window, yes?”
“I am.”
“Then let me give you some advice…”
He launched into a long-winded, but very detailed and informative lecture on how the class selection worked, and what options were good, and what were bad and all that. I won’t bore you with it, as you all no doubt have had it drilled into your heads already. There wasn’t anything new or interesting; it was just the same old generic advice. Free stat points are good, look for rare skills, be aware of class evolutions so you don’t end up railroaded into a bad career, make sure you’re 100% certain of your choice before selecting so you don’t have to wait a year to choose again if you make the wrong choice, etc…
I took all of his advice to heart, and began working my way through my long list of options, but I hadn’t even gotten halfway to the bottom when the bell above the door jingled and two familiar, masked figures walked in.
“Leah,” I said. “Welcome. Good to see you again.”
The lion-masked girl tilted her head in confusion. “Lucille? They say running into the same person twice is a coincidence, and three times is fate. I suppose we must be fated to be friends. What brings you here? And what happened to your eyes? They were so pretty.”
“She is my new employee,” said Anatoly. “And she wished to disguise her eye color as it draws unwanted attention. Don’t worry, they’re still the same beautiful shade of purple underneath the illusion. Welcome back. I didn’t know that I would be seeing you again so soon.”
“Well, I just couldn’t help myself. It’s not every day I get to meet someone like you.”
The elf chuckled. “You flatter me. Have you already read the book you bought last night?”
“Oh yes. It was even better than you said it would be. I couldn’t put it down. I’d love it if you would recommend me another one.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“But first, Lucy, if we’re going to be friends, I suppose you’ll be wanting to know my real name.”
“Yes, that would be nice,” I said.
She took off her mask and did the same intricate noble’s curtsy that Silvia had done.
“I am Princess Ophelia Lyon, the youngest daughter of Duke Lyon. It’s nice to finally meet you without a mask between us. You can keep calling me Leah, though. I prefer to be called that when it’s between friends.”
When she removed her mask, for a moment, I was struck dumb. I could see the resemblance between her and Sylvia, but at the same time, they were nothing alike. Physically, Ophelia was everything that her sister was not. Her face was like an idealized painting, it was so perfect, and her blue eyes were so bright they seemed to shine. Her dress was modest and tasteful, but did not hide the curves that had been nonexistent on Sylvia. Ophelia was easily the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and it wasn’t close, and I have to admit that I was a bit jealous.
I am not an unattractive person. As much as I hate her, I will give credit where it is due; Valerie left me an excellent set of genes. If I had to rate my own appearance, I’d give myself a 9. Maybe a 9.5 if I dress up. I’m better looking than most, and I’m in great shape, but I’m not a generational beauty, and I don’t try to be. Ophelia would break any rating scale. On a scale from 1-10, she would have been a 15.
By the time she finished talking though, I had recovered, and I had a few seconds to process what she was saying. It did not go over my head that Ophelia had called herself a princess, and explicitly stated who her father was while Sylvia had glossed over it, and it did not slip my mind that Anatoly had called her clever. With Sylvia, her friendly attitude had been genuine and natural, but Ophelia had made it clear that I was an exception in her mind.
“You can call me Lucy,” I said, responding with a commoner’s curtsy. “It’s what my friends call me.”
“Lucy.” She spoke as if she were tasting the word. “I like it. I’ve thought this before, but you have a good name.”
“I’m sure my father would be glad to hear it.”
“So, Lucy, how’d you manage to acquire this job? It didn’t seem like Anatoly needed too much help when I was here.”
“Nepotism,” I said, causing Ophelia to stifle a giggle. “My grandfather did him a favor back when he was younger, and now he’s decided to take his payment by sending me to learn under Anatoly for a little while.”
“I’m jealous,” she replied. “I may be a princess, but I’m also the youngest of 43. I don’t have any duties and my inheritance will be a pittance. If I could leave the castle behind to come study under someone like Anatoly, I would do it in a heartbeat. It would surely be more fun than attending tea parties and turning down marriage proposals.” She gave Anatoly a questioning, almost-pleading look.
“I’m afraid I won’t be taking in anyone else for the time being,” he said. “Lucy was a very special circumstance, and between her and the store, I won’t have time for a second apprentice.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, doing a very good job of pretending to be disappointed. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to satisfy myself with these conversations then. Maybe I’ll be able to convince Lucy to share some of your secrets with me.”
“Maybe,” said Anatoly, laughing. “Now, about that book; would you like another romance?”
“Yes, please! Do you have any where the leads have secret identities that they keep meeting each other under? Those are my favorite.”
“Of course!”
She followed Anatoly over to the romance shelf and talked animatedly about her favorite plot and character types while Anatoly guided her to a dozen different books that he thought would suit her. The whole time, she was very cheerful, and affectionate, taking every opportunity she could to make casual contact with him. She was an incredible actress. If Anatoly had not mentioned her intelligence to me, I would have thought that she was just a young girl trying to earn her crush’s favor. Armed with that knowledge though, I was able to get the faint sense that her actions were far less impulsive than they appeared, though in these first few meetings, I still couldn’t tell what her true goal was.
She left with her guard not too much later, thanking both of us profusely for our help, and imploring us to join her for dinner, which we both declined as politely as we could. Once she was gone, Anatoly locked the door and flipped the sign to “closed”.
“Is it strange for two daughters of duke Lyon to frequent the same book store in a city that they don’t live in for different reasons?” I asked, when he turned back around.
“Very,” he said. “Though I doubt they are here for different reasons. She hasn’t mentioned it yet, but I would not be surprised if, in a few days or weeks, she brings up the topic of me visiting her at the Lyon manor in Claude. And then once there, no doubt we would coincidentally run into the duke, who would just happen to be carrying the artifact, and ask me if I could take a look at it. She is here for the same reason as Sylvia, she’s just using a different, less direct approach. As I said before, she is very clever.”
“Wow,” I said. “She’s good. I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“It’s simply a matter of experience,” he said. “If you were as old as me, you would have. And even now, if something like this happens in the future, you will still probably notice. Ophelia is one of the best I’ve ever seen at using that tactic. Most everyone else will look like amateurs compared to her.”
“I guess.”
“It is concerning how much of an interest she’s taken in you though,” he said. “No doubt she noticed something in your first two meetings, and she’s now trying to feel for the truth. Make sure you stick to your backstory. She may see through it, but unless something drastic happens, she won’t call you out for it. She’ll just try to poke holes until you admit the truth yourself. Don’t fall for it.”
“I won’t,” I said. “Thanks for the warning.”
“My pleasure. Now, I don’t believe you had time to finish selecting your class. Would you like me to help you?”
“No,” I said. “I haven’t even finished reading through them yet. I’ll come to you if I have any questions.”
“As you wish,” he said. “I’m going to make myself some dinner, and I’ll be up for a few more hours after that, so as long as my light is on, feel free to knock on my door whenever you need help.”
“I will. And if I don’t see you again, good night.”
“Yes, have a good night.”