Rise of Winter, Week 1, Day 2

Freddie ate dinner slowly, practicing using her strength in all the right ways. An interesting thing about having so much Vitality was that she didn’t grow as hungry or as sleepy. Her mother had told her she also wouldn’t have to use the bathroom as often anymore —her body would be more efficient at processing waste and extracting benefit. It was a neat boon.

Her brothers had not joined the table. In fact, none other than the Duke and Freddie’s parents were there. Even the usual staff that served dinner were gone —in their place was Marasha. Who was in no way a maid or footman. Tiltham was guarding the door, and Freddie was growing tired of the separation already.

“When do we start training?” She asked to no one in particular.

“Are you eager to begin?” The Duke of Nemo peered down the table at his granddaughter, deciding something.

“I am.” Freddie twirled her fork effortlessly —as if it hadn’t been a struggle not to crush it just minutes before.

Her adaptability had been her strength in elsewhere, and it sure wouldn’t be her weakness here. She wanted to start working towards more than mere competency with her Skills. She wanted to master them.

“I have specific Skills I’m after too.” Freddie grinned as she spoke, infusing her intent into every word.

“Oh?” Aster said, leaning in, “Do tell.”

Freddie dropped the fork gently, “I want [Unarmed Combat] and all the adjacent Skills. I want to use my fists, not any blade.”

The Duke’s face grew grim, “You want to be a frontline fighter?”

“I do.” Freddie’s response held no hesitation, no fear, no consideration for the position this put her family in.

That wasn’t to say Freddie didn’t understand their hesitation. Her body was small —she was a child, after all. But she wouldn’t be small forever. Freddie would grow, and as she did, so would her Strength. With every Skill Level, every mystery uncovered, every step forward, her power would increase. So long as she was prepared, there was no reason to stop and reconsider.

Whether Freddie’s face conveyed all this was irrelevant.

The Duke was displeased.

“After you reach competency in your current Skills, we’ll work on adding additional Skills. Agreed?”

Freddie’s grin faltered, “Are you telling me as my grandfather or as the Duke?”

That was it. The moment Freddie realized everything had changed. Her freedom wasn’t guaranteed. No, despite the lavish life the Nemos held, they had a patriarch. A commander. A master.

“Excuse me?” The Duke said, his eyes hard, but his face maintained that same jovial grandfatherly look he always used when talking to his granddaughter.

“Are you telling me or asking me not to work on fighter Skills?” Freddie’s voice was still the high pitch of a young girl, but her undertones were different —as if this was a test. A test of allegiance for her grandfather. As if she was asking, ‘can I trust you to guide me.’

“Does it make a difference?” His own voice was hushed, and it was lined with the same uncertainty that captured Freddie.

Freddie nodded and said softly, “How could it not?”

“Then it’s a suggestion. To wait until after your Affirmation.” Her grandfather reached out his hand and gripped Freddie’s, “We’ll work on what you want for your future. Nothing shall be denied to you, my dear. For you are the future Duchess of Nemo, the Lady of the Void.”

Aster and Bridian hummed their agreement as they took their food from Marasha.

“No one will stop you, darling,” her mother smiled gently, “We simply want you to be sure before you denounce a path you’ve never tried.”

“What your mother said, Fred,” Bridian laughed, “Some paths are harder than others –some more deadly. Being a pugilist isn’t a bad path. It’s just a dangerous one.”

Freddie felt warmth bubble up inside of her. It was nothing like elsewhere. In the before, before the two became one inside of her, it was dark. A time of turmoil that never seemed to end in Kalina’s life. And instead of dealing with the root problems, she fought tooth and nail to suppress them. She began in small rings, fighting with her fists against the other destitute of her homeland. Then, slowly, she worked her way up. From underground brawls against sickly men who would beat her black and blue to televised fights in rings the size of stadiums where elementals came at her on all sides. Every blow brought her clarity. Every hit she took helped her heal. Kalina was broken. And Freddie was not Kalina. Not anymore.

Freddie wouldn’t be easy to hurt ever again.

“Besides,” Freddie said, a smile gracing her face once again, “I’ll be ready for whatever that life throws at me, right? Training and preparation and even more training? I won’t just jump into it by myself.”

“That’s right,” her grandfather grunted, “Now, let’s enjoy this meal. It’ll be the last one we can share together for a while. Your aunts and uncles will grow curious, and we need to prepare them for your Affirmation beforehand so that they aren’t blindsided.”

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Aster and Bridian laughed as if the Duke had made a joke, but Freddie was simply pleased to move on. Any tension that had been in the room drained at those words of finality. So, they dined, and they chatted, and Marasha sat with them as if she were one of the Nemos. As if she was both less and more than a Governess. But no one complained, not when Marasha was trusted so fully.

Not when Marasha saw so much.

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She couldn’t stop herself. Freddie got back to her room and found her voice immediately.

“[Fire Conjuration]”

She wanted to start small, a flame meant for a candle—nothing more. So she fueled it with the same power she had given [Sparkler] earlier. The mana burned through her veins as she sent it out. Her intent filled her from her head to her toes, and she focused everything she had on it.

After a breath, embers began appearing between Freddie’s open palms. Then they alighted in an orange flame. It started small, a pinprick, and then the flame began to whirl in the air, growing bit by bit until it was a ball nearly the size of Freddie’s head.

“Wait–” she said, just a smidge too late, as she pulled her hands away from the growing heat.

The ball of flame didn’t fall, but it also didn’t stop growing.

Freddie’s veins remained superheated, and she was pressing her palms down on her forearms in an attempt to stop the pain. In her panic, she hadn’t realized her mistake. It only took another moment.

“[Fire Manipulation]”

Immediately, the fireball shifted away from Freddie—and began to shift in time with Freddie’s thoughts. With a single thought, if shifted back. Its heat no longer licking Freddie’s skin. It didn’t help the burning sensation of the mana, though it did seem to stop the growing of the ball.

As time passed, the burning in her veins was no longer a shock. It went from magma dripping out of her palms to a gentle warmth trickling out of her pores.

That was when she took the time to examine the fireball properly. It was flickering and brilliant all at once. It both burned her eyes and warmed her heart. It felt familiar. Much like in elsewhere, when fighting fire with fire, she felt complete.

Reaching her hand out, Freddie felt the heat of the fire as her fingertips brushed the edge of the flame. Then she grasped it. As if it were hers. As if she were the controller of flame. At that moment, she felt her Class affect her.

[Young Lady of Flame]

The fire was hers.

That was when the burning started. The fire licked her skin, its heat sinking into her. Freddie could feel her nerves exploding in response as her skin grew red and puckered.

Freddie didn’t stop. She didn’t waver. Instead, a mad grin formed on her face.

She stared at her hands, burning in the fire she’d claimed as hers.

“[Imbue Flame]”

More magma filled Freddie’s veins, more pain, more settling into warmth radiating out of her. It fought back against the pain of burning flesh.

And then the burning stopped. Sure, her hand still stung, ripe and blistering from the previous heat of the flame, but no longer was it actively getting worse. Instead, the flames clung to her hand like a ball-shaped glove. She stretched her quickly blistering fingers, and the fire flexed with her.

“Beautiful.” She whispered.

It was hardly the worst wound she’d ever had. And really, should she have tried it in opposite? Yes. But that didn’t bother her too much either. Freddie had never been a strategist. She was a fighter, a brawler, a gladiator. Nothing more.

Then she snapped both Skills and shut them down with a thought.

“That’s enough for tonight,” she sighed, rubbing her neck with her good hand. “Well, actually. There’s another thing I could try.”

The feeling of magma began welling up again, this time in Freddie’s chest. It circled her heart like the world’s worst case of heartburn. Then she spoke a final time.

“[Regenerate]”

It was ice, it was heat, it was the relief of skin being reformed. It was healing.

Freddie let out a long, satisfied breath. The pain was gradually disappearing and she was thrilled to learn how well the Skill worked. She figured it was a mix of her Rare Class, her Divinity, and her 42 Magic. Otherwise, she would have exhausted her mana reserves by now—like the first time she’d used [Sparkler].

It would take the edge off the more dangerous stunts she was likely to pull —if her life went anything like she planned.

As the last blister sunk back into the skin of her hand, Freddie laughed. It was a mad thing, a thing of danger and disaster.

That was when a knock came from her door.

It wasn’t late, not really. The suns of Gargantua had barely set on the horizon. When Freddie glanced out the window, she could still see the red light wrapping the world. But it wouldn’t be a maid. Her Grandfather had told her as much. She was basically being sequestered away from the family and staff until she reached competency in all of her unique Skills.

So who could it be?

Her mother, perhaps, come to reassure her.

Her father, maybe, come to give her advice.

Surely not Marasha or Tiltham. They were likely busy with preparations for tomorrow.

Her grandfather was the most likely culprit, busybody that he was.

Deciding it didn’t really matter. Freddie used her freshly healed hand to open the door.

She looked out into the hallway, peering up at the face of someone nonexistent—literally. When she looked up, no one was there. A smile spread across her face, a big grin she hadn’t expected, and she looked down.

Where she found three boys that were exact replicas of each other.

“Trips,” Freddie said adoringly, calling out to the triplets.

She held her arms open for the blonde-haired, orange-eyed boys, Hubert, Lester, and Eugene tackled their elder sister with everything they had.

“Freddieeeeee,” they cried out of unison.

“You never came to see us,” Hue said, sniffling.

“We were waiting for you!” Les cried, anger permeating his soft voice.

“We wanted to give you your gift, but you forgot about us as soon as you Awakened,” Gene accused, rubbing his face into Freddie’s arm.

“Trips, please,” Freddie pleaded, working overtime to ensure she brushed all of their hair with loving pats. “I’m here now!”

“Now that we’ve trapped you,” Hue grumbled.

Freddie was overwhelmed with their love, it brought tears to her eyes, remembering how lonely elsewhere had been. And she wrapped her arms around the three boys, squeezing tight —but not so tight that her increased Strength would hurt them.

“No, now that’s simply not true. I’ve got you.”