Fall of Autumn, Week 4, Day 5

I ate breakfast in my room, alone once again. But this time, I didn’t plan on staying that way. Finishing up some fruit, I began my preparations for the day.

It began with several small braids turned and kept in place with thin threads created from [Weave of Darkness] and controlled by [Shadow Manipulation]. At the center of the swirl was the star gem from Twilight, still glowing with its orange and blue hues. Each point was secured to my hair with a thread so fine it was near invisible—save for the slight sparkle of the iridescence from A Shadowless Day. Next came the other side, with a similar set of small braids, but this time it was embedded with a pale crescent gem. From the rest of my hair I pulled and tied several iridescent threads to the base of my scalp via groups of hair and manipulated the threads to integrate into my curls naturally. Lastly, I pulled two curls down to frame my face.

It was one of my more labor-intensive looks, but as I faced my reflection, peace filled me. Using [Weaving] had only grown more natural over time and now my fingers were deft, my focus easy.

I wondered if the artisans who used the Skill felt the same way —or is it less satisfying because their stakes are higher? Do they love what they do, do their Skills sync as well with their soul? Or is it a necessity? Because it’s what the System gave them? Surely, not every worker who possesses [Weaving] feels the same about it. But maybe most of them?

Maybe I would find someone with the Skill to ask.

I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt so pale a purple it was nearly white and pants so dark they were nearly black. Soon, I would have my bolts of fabric perfected, and I would be able to wear my own shadows. For now, the colors of Dawn would have to be stretched to match what I wanted.

I took a breath, and felt the ice of mana spread through my veins, slowly but with determination.

[Shadow Animation]

“Noir and Haze, enjoy the rooms. Shade, to my shoulder.” I commanded lazily.

I had to keep my commands vague if I wanted them to exact their will and not my own. But today I wanted my knit lizard to explore with me.

Truly, I should command the spirits by their names. Commander, Defender, Entertainer, or whoever else appears. I had ten options, and they were all distinct in how they would act. But both the spirits and myself preferred to call them by their bodies names. It gave them a role to play. A guideline. And it gave me a sense of familiarity—of family.

Shade, with his dark forest green yarn, crawled up to my shoulder and nuzzled my neck.

“Away we go,” he chirped in the distinct way Adventurer spoke, his ego and excitement mixed into pride.

“Away we go,” I hummed back, a small curl to my lips as I attached several silver chains to my belt loops.

I bet I could mimic the chains with shadows and they’d match my bangles and nails. I thought to myself, plans forming and breaking and reforming. Later, though. I’ll have to make a list.

Sliding on my boots, I surveyed my room one final time. I’d unpacked bolts of fabric onto an empty bookshelf. Across the room I had placed and organized balls of yarn in nearly a dozen different shades and even more sizes in a glass curio cabinet that shimmered in slight hues of orange. And atop the mantle of the fireplace were my three most prized possessions: my spell book, the three letters from Ugar that I had yet to respond to, and the glass sculpture of Noir —positioned just right to capture the light of the morning. The bed was a mess and I’d repositioned the chairs to give me a more open space by pushing them against the walls. The doors to the sitting room, bathroom, and oversized closet were all propped open to give me a view of everything.

My veins filled to the brim with ice again, and I funneled it into [Shadow Conjuration].

If Level 5 was the level of competence, Level 10 was the point at which the Skill became ingrained in one’s being. It was a magnitude more mana efficient and I could feel the Skill flow easier than ever.

As the ten balls of shadows appeared they immediately condensed and found their home on my nails in an almond shape. Pointed, but not to the level of piercing. That would happen as necessary.

It was the final step of preparation, and I’d decided I would do it every day, as well as prepare my shadow bangles. The drain on my mana was steady, and it kept my body cold but comfortable in the knowledge that I would never be undefended.

Never again.

Pulling open the door to the hallway, I set off.

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Should I empower [Otherworldly] again? Maybe as it grows in power, the Skill can be directed.

I decided against it for today. There was no point in risking a different outcome when I knew what —and who, I wanted to see.

The soles of my boots hit the floor with light thuds, and I maneuvered the manor as if it was second nature —until I got to the entryway. Based on the setup of the main estate, the barracks was likely on the edge of the property. But this was Fellan. The borderlands. Would there be more than one barracks? Where would I find Sir Limrick, or Arlen?

It was a silly question though, because being in the main entryway, all I had to do was ask someone and they’d take me there. I could ask one of the knights on duty, but they’d likely be stiff and boring. The ideal person would be Juniper, she was eager to please and I wanted someone to talk to that wouldn’t look down at my age. But who knew where she was.

At that moment, a silver haired maid appeared. The same one who had taken me to Gristle’s office. She didn’t look particularly pleased to see me, but neither did she look displeased, so it hit rather interestingly neutral. I would still have much preferred the young hireling, but she would do. At the very least she would be entertaining.

“Sylvie!” I called, rushing up to the woman.

As I got closer she fell into a mild curtsy, not quite deep enough for real respect but also not too shallow to be called out on. Not that it really mattered to me, but it made my lips quirk up and I fought back a huff of a laugh.

“My Lady,” she said neutrally, rising from her brief curtsy. “How may I be of assistance?”

Her pink eyes were flat and the top of her lip was curled slightly.

She doesn’t like me. I realized, But she’s not pretending.

“Could you take me to the barracks? I don’t know the way,” I hummed.

“Of course, Lady Nora, this way.”

Sylvie led the way swiftly, taking few turns within the manor itself until we left through a large double door with glass inserts. It led to an atrium with a half dozen tables and beautiful flowers kept alive even when they should be long dead for the season. We didn’t stay in the garden for a significant length of time as Sylvie didn’t pause and instead stormed through the atrium and out another set of doors that led to what must have been the other half of the outdoor garden.

It was several minutes of silence, where I wasn’t sure if I should say anything to the woman or if she would soften if I said something sweet. In the end, I decided it didn’t matter if Sylvie softened to me, it was an odd sense of satisfaction to know someone didn’t care for you and to know it wouldn’t make a difference even if they did. Sylvie was just polite enough to be professional, and that’s all I could really ask of someone paid to be around me.

Eventually, we approached a two story building hidden behind evergreen trees that towered along the edge of the property. The barracks was a wooden building with simplistic designs everywhere but the front door —where the emblem of the Dusk was emblazoned. Two setting suns were painted in a cream color, the divide of the double doors separating one half of the emblem from the other.

“We’re here,” Sylvie said matter of factly, holding open one of the doors and motioning for me to enter.

I stepped inside of the barracks, anticipation filling me. Would Sir Limrick be there? Dame Arella? Klein, or Arlen, or even Sir Neil? Would they want to see me? It’d been a few days and none of them had appeared —save for when Sir Limrick came to see me outside Twilight. Perhaps I have to go missing for them to appear.

I shook my head to get rid of that train of thought.

They’ve proven to me time and again that they care. That they care more for me than they do the Dawns as a whole. But we’ve returned from a long journey, they’re likely busy.

The first floor of the barracks was open, with tall ceilings and a large, scarcely decorated entryway. To either side were archways, one led to an overly long dining table with chairs so close together I wondered how the knights fit in, and the other led to a room filled to the brim with suits of armor and sword displays.

Sylvie didn’t follow me in. Instead, she continued holding the door open —one silver eyebrow arched in question.

I could hear the question she hadn’t asked.

‘Do you want me to follow?’

Do I want a witness to this? To whatever reception I receive? What if my knights aren’t there and it’s just a bunch of strangers? What if my knights are there? Do I want someone who barely seems to like me to see the relationship I have with the knights who brought me here?

I shook my head, “I’ll be fine from here, thank you.”

Without delay she nodded and Sylvie disappeared back the way she came, the door closing harshly behind her.

Why does she dislike me that much? Maybe it’s the reverse of the Dusk. Maybe it’s because I’m of the Dawn.

I stilled myself as I focused on my Perception, on the depth of the world around me. At first, it was just the nothingness that the world becomes to tolerate all the sounds. But as I sifted through the ambient noises, I settled on the muffled sounds of metal clanging together, of grunts of exertion, of unintelligible chatter bother stern and jovial.

I scrunched my nose at the sounds and turned on my heel to cross the entryway. The third passage was right down the middle of the room, a long hallway that led to a half dozen doors on each wall and one overly large set of double doors at the end.

Without hesitation, I pulled open one of the end doors and came to face a sparring room with a sand pit that took up most of the space and tables on the edges of the wide-open room. The area was large enough for what [Quick Calculation] told me was thirty-three knights.

As I scanned the faces of the men and women who were training, I caught sight of a few of the knights who escorted me to Fellan. None that I spoke with more than a handful of times, but still. If worse comes to worst, they went through my trials with me.

I spotted Dame Siobhan rushing a much larger man, Sir Orv lounging at a table, and, just as I was about to give up, I felt my feet leave the ground and a pair of familiar arms wrapped around me. I was twirled around and came face to face with the blonde haired knight I knew so well.

A smile filled my face, and I laughed, “Dame Arella!”