Peak of Autumn, Week 4, Day 7

I started by taking a breath and staring at the loosely knit bag I had made. It was half my size and filled to the brim with the different-sized balls of yarn. I couldn’t feel the passive aura of [Otherworldly] surrounding me, but I knew as soon as I used [Silent as a Shadow], I would be able to feel it contract. And I had ten minutes of [Silent as a Shadow]. It should be enough.

I fell into thought of Eunora —of how she would search out her siblings throughout the estate. My room was on the second floor, and if I entered the manor from the back, I would have to go through the atrium and the Aurelian Room to get to the main hallway. Then I would have to follow that to the entryway and climb the stairs. From there, it’s only two corners to return to my room. Eunora knew there were passageways for the maids, but she never paid close attention to what they were, so they were hardly featured in the movie marathon that played in my dreams. So going straight through was my only option, no matter how open it left me.

Ten minutes. I would have to wait until I was out of the hedge maze to activate my Skill. And I would be carrying the sack of yarn.

Tucking Noir into the top of the bag, I patted his head.

“I could just leave all the yarn behind,” I mused, “The maids would know it was me —and probably Theodore if he heard about it.”

I glanced at the bag of yarn made from my Skill. My shadows. My mana. And I knew that would never happen. I would make something from them. [Weaving] was an odd skill, with the way it added to my actual ability to knit —increasing my speed and giving me knowledge of different styles, from knitting to crochet to hand weaving raw wool into fabric. It had been a distraction from the overwhelming pain of losing my old life. And now, it would be a way to center myself through my rage.

The bag was easy to lift, not because it was light but because my Strength made such things easy —while my Dexterity allowed me to maneuver my grip as if it did have handles. My balance was not even off-center. My vision was limited, though, and I had to peer my head around the bulk in order to see in front of me. The dim evening light was child’s play for my triple digit Perception, allowing me to catch the outline of every twitch the wind sent through the hedges and every rustle in the moongrass —both from the wind and small animals in the distance. The day's warmth was quickly seeping away, and I decided to move. Or, rather, speak.

“[Quick Calculation]”

I wasn’t sure if it would work, as [Quick Calculation] had seemed to be passive —and tracking time was only based on counting, so there was also that. But as soon as the Skill was spoken aloud, I felt the ice of mana flood behind my eyes deep into my mind. What had once been best guesses suddenly became detailed measures of time down to the second.

It had taken me four minutes and thirty-eight seconds to reach the clearing from my room. But it had taken Eunora 7:58 to get to the atrium. And then another 9:22 to wind her way through the manor. That was just enough time from the atrium to my bedroom now that [Silent as a Shadow] has leveled to 2. There wasn’t room for error.

I stood still, closing my eyes and listening deeper to the sounds of the maze. There was the same whistle of the wind shaking leaves, but the tiny thumps of animal feet became clearer as I focused. There was no laughter in the distance, no sounds of a garden cart or clanging of swords. The maze was empty. There were no fateful encounters for [Otherworldly] to draw to me, and the longer I waited, the more time there was for that to change. My eyes snapped open. It was time to go.

Eunora’s memories guided me out of the maze, turns I’d never seen becoming my path as I moved one foot in front of the other, precariously balancing my makeshift bag in front of me. Only a prayer that my Dexterity would keep me nimble.

No, I hissed to myself, No more prayers. Not in this world with Gods who would play with mortal lives. Not even to the Gods of Elsewhere.

I grimaced at the thought but continued a steady, yet careful, pace through the hedges until a familiar fountain came into view with a familiar statue. Lyla. As I passed under an archway decorated with the same Dawn Roses I had used to offer tribute to the statue earlier in the week, the dim light of the setting suns made the courtyard appear bleak and unsettling. I decided not to linger, heading straight for the most ornate archway behind the statue —the one that led to the back entrance of the manor.

I took another pause on the other side of the archway, listening and looking for anything I wanted to avoid. I had walked into an ample open space with browning and yellow-green grass. Leading towards the towering building was a cobblestone path that turned and wound around fountains and statues. Occasionally the trail would split to lead to benches off to the sides that sat below Wilting Willows —in the daytime, the white vines that flowed down would provide just enough shade to be protected from the sunlight. Now, in the twilight hours, such shade was barely noticeable. In the distance, I heard the sounds of deep-voiced chattering and the occasional ringing of a bell—the sounds of life at the manor.

I debated activating [Silent as a Shadow] then and there, the anxiety of Eunora overwhelming me —telling me it wouldn’t do to be caught. Not like this. Not if we want them to love us. I cringed at the thought and pushed it back, letting it fuel my determination—and, later, my rage. I would unpack the ‘us’ eventually. Probably.

Instead, I slunk off to the side of the long winding path and stepped off the cobblestones to head straight for the hedges that were cast in shadow.

I may not be able to retract [Otherworldly] or supernaturally mute my steps, but Shadow was something I could use.

“[Shadow Manipulation]”

As the coldness of mana left me and diffused into nothingness, I bore my Will and sent a single thought to the shadows that lurked in the hedges: Cover me. It wasn’t precision work, it was quick and uneven, but the command brought the shadows around me, darkening the world surrounding me and allowing me to blend into the fringes of the path as I walked towards the atrium.

The glass dome was sparkling with the setting suns’ light. Even so, I could see the iron ornaments that swirled along the glass panes that made up the atrium. Inside, I knew there would be sweeping vines, more Dawn roses, and a half dozen cafe tables ready to be set up for tea at any time. Anxiety welled within, pressure all my own —it wasn’t truly about running into others. I’d seen enough of the Dawns this week for another encounter to be negligible. Still, it felt like stepping into the manor and exploring was accepting this world. If I walked through and remembered Eunora’s memories, her pain, and her happiness, it would overcome me. And what if I was no longer me? My true name was already ripped from me, and it’s hard to say this grief is who I always was, but what if I become an amalgamation of Eunora and ______? What if I come to hate that too?

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That thought brought me to the door, and a whispered “[Silent as a Shadow]” dulled the world around me, leaving me to see in shades of gray. That did help to ease my anxiety as I nudged one of the towering doors open and slipped inside, the weight of [Otherworldly] shrinking. The filtered twilight was dimmer here than in the garden, diffracted through the panes of glass, and the shadows matched the swooping design of the iron ornaments. I had to move as swiftly as possible –my timer had begun to tick ever downward. I was lucky that the atrium was empty.

The problem with dulling the world is that suddenly my Perception no longer went as far. Everything was muddled, from the creaking of the ceiling to the metallic tinkling of the wind chimes. Even though I could hear them, they were no longer defined. But I didn’t have time to dwell too much on it, so I powered through the atrium until I came to the Aurelian Room — already open. Usually, the doors were shut, but a thick curtain hung in the open doorway right now, and shadows flickered as the candlelight shifted within. Down the middle, I could see glimpses of maids shuffling from one side to the other, their chatter unintelligible through the shroud of [Silent as a Shadow].

It was now or never, then. Either I would get caught here, my Skill failing against their Perception, or I would be one step closer back to my room.

The answer was rather anticlimactic when I slid in between the curtains and followed the round edge of the room the short fifteen feet to the open doorway. The maids were both on the other side, dusting the mantle showing the Battle of the Golden Dawn —where the late Count Aurel demolished the Kerten forces two hundred years prior. The whole room was based on the man, with hues of gold glimmering even through the shadow surrounding me. I chose not to dwell on the sight as I entered the main hallway and past the recreation rooms —music, art, literature. There were rooms on both sides meant for such things. But I clung to the wall as I hustled past, not bothering to look within the rooms. Luckily, none seemed occupied tonight. It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs that I noticed it was unusually quiet on the second floor. There were only three of us on that floor, true, and the twins were on the opposite wing from me. But there should still be something. Maids or footmen, or even a roaming guard.

As I arrived at the second floor's landing, I sped up down the hallway that would lead me back to safety. To the one place in this manor that brought me calm. To my own room. I only had three minutes left of my Skill. I needed to make it back quickly. A short while later, I rounded the first corner, then the second, and I was at thirty-three seconds. I was so close. I sped up.

I was so focused on how close I was, how I had evaded the entirety of the estate, that when I focused on my door I didn’t process what I was looking at. Not immediately. Seven seconds left. At six seconds, I paused, staring in dismay at my door. I sat down the basket of yarn, bringing my hands to my hair, tugging gently on my braids. Five seconds. I couldn’t get past the door. Because a man was standing there, leaning his red-violet-clad shoulder against the wood frame. Four seconds. He was tall, the top of his head nearing the top of the hung portrait next to him. Three seconds. I knew if he were looking my way, his eyes would be a glowing blue. One second. It was coming, and there was no escape. I pulled Noir out of the basket, gripping him close to me.

[Silent as a Shadow] broke, the mana rushing back into me and the vibrancy of the manor blinding me momentarily.

He turned around. The scowl that was ingrained in my memory was present even at that moment.

“Eunora.” Count Evenor Dawn spoke harshly, without love or affection. Without softening the clip of his tone. Were I truly Eunora, I would be in tears already. She often was. But though I had anxiety thrumming in my veins, I was not Eunora. Not in the same way. His coldness actually helped ease my nerves. Helped funnel my anxiety back where it belonged —to the fire in my gut. The anger.

Eunora is eight. Eight years old. What have you people been doing?

“Count Dawn.”

He turned his cold blue eyes away from me and back to my doorway, stepping inside—the command to follow unstated. Despite my desire to avoid him, I used one hand to drag the bag of yarn and the other to grip Noir as if my life depended on it, and I went in after my Father. Eunora’s father? At this point, the differentiation was pointless. Eunora has been gone since the day I overtook her. Now all that remains is the vestiges of her life in me.

He did not sit down, choosing instead to go to my now empty bookshelf and scrutinize some invisible speck of dust.

“You leave the first of the week. You know this?”

Rather than respond, I continued dragging the bag of yarn to my bed. Setting down Noir, I hefted the bag on top of my duvet and let it spill out. I began sorting through them, starting by sifting the bag to get to the two green balls of yarn. I quickly slid them beneath the nearest pillow, hoping the Count had not caught sight of them. Green was, after all, not permitted in the Dawn house.

“There is a contingent of Dusk Knights headed back to Fellan. They will escort you on the journey,” he continued, without a care for my response, “You will act with dignity befitting a Dawn.”

Considering you and your children, that’s a rather low bar. I sneered to myself. I began to separate the black and iridescent yarn from each other less discretely.

“The maids of the manor have not volunteered to accompany you, so it will be you and you alone. I’ve heard you’ve gotten rather adept at fending for yourself these past months, so that should prove to be a non-issue. You’re lucky your governess has been on leave for so long. Lina would not have stood for this… disobedience.”

I glanced back at the Count. Sharp blue eyes met sharp blue eyes, and I fought back the disgust that welled within me. I wanted to say something venomous, something hateful, and rude. But I exercised a modicum of self-control and settled for a flat response.

“My apologies.”

He gave a dry huff in response, “I’m sure. The journey will take two months. It will be by carriage, so prepare yourself. I have arranged for Maria to put together a selection of books necessary for a Dawn. Read them, or don’t. Your mother has made clear to you the consequences of continued sloth.”

My throat tightened, memories of Eunora all but begging this family for affection. Affection they were clearly incapable of giving. It caused something inside of me to break.

“Exile this, Dawn that, consequences, punishments, shame, disloyalty,” I rolled my eyes, “Is there anything else?”

Count Evenor arched an eyebrow but when he spoke, his voice was the same cold tone, “You mother and I know about your [Class], Eunora.”

A chill crept up my spine, I had thought they assumed the same as Raphael and Theodore. Still, uncaring of the dread pooling in my stomach, he continued.

“And based on those things on your bed, I would say extremely specialized in Dexterity. It’s [Uncommon], at least. That means you are a contender to your siblings. When the time comes, there will be expectations of you. Meet them.”

I wanted to laugh. That’s it? No further thought? Just ‘stop throwing a tantrum and fall in line’? No questions?

“Your mother and I will not be seeing you off, we’ve been called to the Capital for urgent business. You have tomorrow to say your goodbyes, though based on your behavior I doubt anyone would want them.”

The rest was a blur as he wrapped up his nonsense and left my room. I wondered, briefly, if the Dawn line was cursed. If that’s what made them all so intolerable. Then I remembered Eunora of the before. Of how sweetly she treated those around her, how quiet and serious and hardworking she was, and I knew that whatever faults stemmed from this blood they had not ruined her. And they still wouldn’t, if I had my way.