It had been three days since Ronan arrived at the mansion, and while the sheer size of the castle still intimidated him, he had begun to notice a few things. The servants moved around him with an eerie precision—always respectful, always expressionless. Despite their outward neutrality, there were moments when Ronan could feel their emotions, a fleeting sense of discomfort or curiosity toward him. Even though he could admit that he had powers related to sensing emotions or something, he wasn’t really any close to getting used to it.
Reginald the Butler, his supposed guide in the large mansion, was always around when Ronan needed something, though Ronan had made it a point to avoid asking for anything. The older man seemed attentive without being overbearing, offering help without forcing it. Even so, Ronan preferred to handle things on his own, slipping through the days without causing a stir.
The mansion itself, though large and filled with luxurious stuff, was strangely impersonal. He noticed early on that there were no photos, no portraits, no traces of the people who lived there before. It was as if the mansion existed outside of time, a place designed for purpose rather than for living. The rooms, with their perfectly arranged furniture and spotless windows, felt like set pieces in a life that wasn’t his.
During the day, he roamed the garden more than anywhere else, wandering aimlessly among the rows of perfectly maintained flowers. He wasn’t doing anything in particular—just walking, his mind flickering between old memories and the uncomfortable present. The flowers were vibrant, reminding him of the simple flowers he and his sister used to pick for their mother from the wilds outside their small home. A bitterness curled in his stomach every time he thought about it.
He hadn’t been hungry since arriving. That was the strangest part. He had eaten so many delicious meals—things he’d never even dreamed of tasting before—but something about it felt wrong. He should’ve been grateful, he knew that, but the food left a hollow feeling inside him. It wasn’t the taste or the abundance, but the fact that it still felt like none of it mattered anymore. No matter how much he ate, it didn’t change anything.
Ronan tried to be angry. He wanted to be angry—at Gideon, at the servants, at the world that had thrown him into this absurd situation—but all he felt was sadness. He had everything in front of him, more than he could have ever asked for, and yet, it felt meaningless. The meals, the flowers, the mansion itself… it was all empty.
I wish I could’ve given these flowers to my mother and sister, he thought bitterly, and that food to my mother and sister.
The sadness twisted deeper. His mother and sister were gone, and now he was here, in this beautiful place, surrounded by everything he had once dreamed of giving them but no longer could.
Ronan stood in the garden, his gaze wandering over a patch of strange flowers he had never seen before. Their petals shimmered in the sunlight, each one a deep blue that seemed to catch the light and reflect it in shades of silver. The flowers were small, no larger than the palm of his hand, with long, twisting stems that curled around one another like vines, forming patterns on the ground. Tiny flecks of gold dusted the petals, giving them an otherworldly glow.
He crouched down and reached out to touch one, his fingers brushing against its soft surface. The flower felt fragile, almost like silk, its cool petals smooth against his skin. He didn’t know what it was called, or even if these flowers had names. They looked so delicate.
Back home, although scarce, the flowers were wild and untamed, growing wherever they could find a chance. He remembered the tangled masses of greens and yellows, the rough edges of the blooms he and his sister would pick and place in old clay jars around the house. Those flowers, with their crooked stems and faded petals, were still pretty.
What would Raya think of all this? he wondered.
His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet sound of footsteps approaching. Ronan looked up to see Reginald walking toward him, his usual calm, reserved expression in place.
"Young Master," Reginald said with a polite nod, "The lord requests your presence."
Ronan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t seen Gideon since their brief conversation three days ago when he first arrived at the mansion. Though Gideon had been kind, there was something about him that felt distant, like he was always working a few steps ahead of everyone else. It made Ronan uneasy.
Ronan rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his trousers. He gave the flowers one last glance before following Reginald back toward the mansion. The walk was silent, as it usually was with Reginald, but Ronan didn’t mind. He liked the silence.
When they reached the study, the door was already open. Ronan stepped inside and immediately noticed that Gideon wasn’t alone. A man in dark robes stood beside him, his hands clasped together as if waiting for something.
Gideon greeted Ronan with a nod and a small smile, but there was a sense of formality in the air. “Ah, Ronan. How are you feeling?” Gideon asked, his voice polite.
Ronan just shrugged, not bothering to answer out loud. He still wasn’t used to all of this—the mansion, the wealth, the strange way people spoke to him like he was someone important.
Wait, maybe he should’ve answered verbally, since they were in the presence of someone?
Gideon didn’t press the issue. Instead, he gestured to the man beside him. “This is Tobias. He’s here to get you started on the most basic information you'll need for your studies.”
Ronan’s stomach did a few flip-flops. He knew this was coming—he couldn’t just drift through this new life forever without learning the things he was supposed to know. Still, the thought of formal studies, of sitting down and learning things about stuff that didn’t seem important until now, made him feel uneasy. He glanced at Toby-What, who had a small smile on his face.
He gave a respectful nod. “Young Master Ronan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tobias, and I will tutor you on the most basic information you need before starting at the prestigious Lumenbourg University. Congratulations on your acceptance, by the way.”
Ronan shifted awkwardly, not sure what to say, so he just gave a half-hearted “Uh, hey.” The whole thing felt weird. It wasn’t like people in his old life introduced themselves with formalities and polite gestures.
“You’ll need to learn a lot to catch up,” Gideon continued. “But if we do ignore everything else you need to learn, you’ll need to learn the language of the Empire properly before the university semester begins.”
Ronan stared back at him, a knot tightening in his chest. He had never really learned anything in his life, except for scavenging for food and how to ignore his hunger. His mind raced with doubt. Could he even do this? He had never been the book-smart type—just a survivor. That’s all he had ever been.
Gideon could see the hesitation in Ronan’s eyes, but he pressed on. “Don’t worry so much. You already know how to speak the language, now you need to learn to read and write it too. There are a lot of ways to learn Ravencian, many of which are shortcuts,” he said, his tone more serious now. “We don’t have a lot of time before the semester starts, but the ultimate decision is up to you. There are five common methods people usually do this.”
Gideon gestured toward Tobias and he stepped forward and continued where Gideon left off. “The first method is the traditional way—learning through books, tutors, and practice. However, as you can imagine, this method takes months or years—time you don’t have much of.” He glanced at Gideon, who gave a subtle nod.
“The second option is using a spell. With the right incantation, we can temporarily embed language knowledge into your mind. But this is a temporary solution—the spell will fade, and the knowledge will disappear after a few days.”
The idea of knowledge just vanishing from his mind felt… wrong. What would be the use of it anyway?
“The third option,” Tobias continued, “is to use an artifact—specifically, enchanted items that can transfer knowledge into your mind. These are rare and costly, but the effect is more stable than spells and less dangerous than memory retention. Although you will forget all knowledge once you take off the artifact.”
Gideon cut in with a quiet voice. “We do have access to such artifacts, and personally, I would like you to go with this option.”
It was strange to hear people talking about him like he was an object to be filled with knowledge.
“For the fourth option,” Tobias said, “there’s a method used by some people called subliminal exposure. It’s a passive form of learning, where you listen to enchanted recordings of the language while you sleep. It’s slower than some of the other methods, but it’s painless and low-risk. However, it only helps with passive understanding and requires more than four months for full comprehension.”
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“I probably shouldn’t mention the last method, but it's my duty to give you complete information.” Tobias continued, his voice steady and professional. “The fifth method is through memory retention—a very dangerous technique, which probably should not be in the most commonly used methods, but there are a lot of people who use this technique in the Ravencia Empire. It is the fastest method but involves using magic to forcefully imprint the language into your mind permanently. However,” Tobias’s expression darkened, “the process is highly painful and dangerous. It is not recommended, as it can overload your brain and cause severe side effects—blackouts, hallucinations, or worse.”
Ronan had listened, half-interested, as the tutor laid out the options. He wasn’t exactly eager to dive into learning languages—he still didn’t see much about any of this. Still, memory retention had caught his attention. So he didn’t have time for slow learning, and the idea of going through something dangerous just to learn a language sounded reckless. But then again, why did that have a certain allure to it? It was like he wanted to try it.
Whatever, sometimes he didn’t even understand himself.
The danger didn’t faze him; if anything, it felt like the kind of reckless move he wanted to make. If he had to do this, better to get it over with—no matter the cost.
Although, he was curious about something first.
“I’ve got one question,” Ronan said, raising an eyebrow. “If we’ve got methods like these, why bother studying at all? Why not just... wham, bam, boom—learn everything with spells?”
Gideon and Tobias exchanged glances, and to Ronan’s surprise, Tobias burst into laughter. Gideon shook his head with a small smile. “Ah, if only it were that simple,” he said. “Magic is powerful, Ronan, but it’s not omnipotent. These shortcuts are just that—shortcuts. They don’t give you the full picture.”
Ronan blinked, a little taken aback. It was the first time he had actually seen Gideon laugh more than a smidge, and something about it seemed almost... human. He hadn’t expected that from someone who usually came across as so controlled and unreadable.
Tobias, still chuckling, stepped in. “Each of these methods has its drawbacks. Take the spell for instance—sure, it dumps knowledge in your head quickly, but it’s temporary. The moment the spell fades, the knowledge fades with it. You might remember a few things here and there, but it’s like trying to hold water in your hands. Slips right through.”
Gideon nodded. “The artifact method is more stable, but still not perfect. The transfer is never as seamless as traditional learning, and it doesn’t teach you how to apply the knowledge. You’ll know the words, but not the meaning behind them. And with memory retention,” he paused, his gaze sharpening, “you could burn out your mind for good. One wrong move, and the knowledge overloads you, leaving lasting damage. There have been accounts of people who relied on this method just a little too much, and they died.”
Tobias added, his tone more serious, “And that’s just language. Complex subjects like spellcraft, potion-making, or magical theory, even advanced mathematics—no spell can fully teach you those. You need experience, practice, and time. Magic can enhance learning, but it can’t replace it.”
Ronan leaned back slightly, processing what they were saying. He didn’t like the sound of any of it. “So, basically, I’ll be hitting the books either way.”
Gideon smirked. “Yes. No matter which method you choose, there’s no escaping the hard work. You’ll learn that in time.”
Well, now he felt stupid.
Gideon waved his hand and said, “Okay, so how do you want to proceed?”
Ronan had made up his mind.
“I’ll go with memory retention,” he said, his tone even, almost casual.
Tobias frowned slightly. “Young Master Ronan, it’s not a decision to take lightly. The risks aren’t just about pain—it could leave lasting damage.”
Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s the quickest, right? Besides, lasting damage—who doesn’t love a bit of risk every now and then?”
Gideon tilted his head, clearly weighing Ronan’s response. “You seem awfully sure about that.”
Ronan met his gaze, the corner of his mouth quirking just a little. “I’m just not going to spend months with my nose in books if I don’t have to. Seems like a win-win, minus the potential brain-frying part. Besides, I have a feeling I can handle it.”
The room went quiet for a moment, both Gideon and Tobias exchanging glances. Ronan could sense their hesitation, but he wasn’t interested in long explanations or drawn-out concerns. He just wanted to be through with it.
Gideon finally gave a nod. “If that’s what you’ve decided.”
Ronan leaned back slightly, feeling more sure of his decision than he expected.
Tobias cleared his throat, glancing at Gideon before speaking. “Very well, Young Master Ronan. I’ll need some time to make the necessary preparations.”
Ronan gave a brief nod. “Take your time,” he said, though inwardly, he was eager to get this over with.
As Tobias turned to leave, Ronan noticed Gideon watching him closely, something unspoken lingering behind his sharp gaze. For a moment, it seemed like Gideon wanted to say more, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Ronan raised an eyebrow, but Gideon said nothing. The silence stretched, and Ronan decided not to push it.
***
The next day, Ronan found himself standing in front of an elaborate setup in one of the mansion’s smaller chambers. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls where intricate runes had been etched into the stone floor. At the center was a large, circular pattern filled with glowing symbols—some familiar, but most completely alien to him.
Several tall, silver pillars surrounded the circle, each topped with a glowing crystal that pulsed faintly, almost in sync with his own heartbeat. The air felt heavy with magic, thick and electric, making his skin prickle.
In the middle of the circle was a single ornate chair, dark wood with silver inlays, positioned almost like a throne but built with straps along the armrests and legs, ready to hold him in place. The chair itself had intricate carvings of symbols Ronan had no idea about, giving it an ancient, foreboding feel. In front of the chair, a set of crystal vials sat neatly on a table, each one filled with a different colored liquid, their contents shimmering as though alive.
Tobias was already there, busy checking each part of the setup with a calm precision, his fingers tracing the edges of the glowing runes, adjusting the alignment of the silver pillars.
“Quite the setup,” Ronan muttered under his breath, eyeing the chair warily. “Looks more like an execution chamber than a classroom.”
Tobias didn’t look up from his work, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It may feel that way, Young Master Ronan, but I assure you, it’s not that grim.”
Ronan glanced at Gideon, who stood quietly at the edge of the room, watching the preparations. Gideon hadn’t said much since agreeing to the memory retention method, but his expression was unreadable, a touch of tension hiding beneath his usual calm exterior.
The air felt dense as Ronan approached the chair.
“Take your seat,” Tobias gestured. “We need to begin.”
Ronan gave a small shrug and sat down, feeling the cold wood against his back. The chair creaked slightly under his weight, the inlaid carvings giving off a faint hum of magic. Tobias stepped forward, holding a small vial filled with a shiny, metallic liquid.
“This is Mind's Veil Elixir,” Tobias explained, handing the vial to Ronan. “It will open your mind to receive the magic. Drink it quickly.”
Ronan hesitated only for a moment before raising the vial to his lips. The potion slid down his throat, tasting like rusted iron. Almost immediately, he felt a heavy fog descend over his thoughts, dulling his senses and making his limbs feel leaden. The edges of the room blurred, and the glowing sigils on the floor seemed to grow brighter, almost alive.
Tobias began fastening the straps around his wrists and ankles, moving with careful precision. The restraints were tight but not uncomfortable—just enough to keep him still.
“This is necessary to prevent any movement during the process,” Tobias explained, strapping his arms in place. “The magic can cause involuntary reactions.”
Ronan didn’t respond, only giving a slight nod.
Once Tobias finished the preparations, he raised his hands over one of the crystals, his voice low as he began chanting the incantation. “Retinentia Verba,” he murmured, and instantly the runes on the floor flared to life, casting an eerie light around the room.
The magic hit Ronan like a wave, his body tensing as the energy surged through him. A sharp pain exploded in his mind, intense and overwhelming, as if his thoughts were being torn apart and forced back together. His muscles tightened, his breath caught in his throat. Every nerve felt like it was on fire.
The knowledge was pouring into him—words, symbols, meanings—but all at once, too fast to grasp. His mind reeled under the pressure, trying to make sense of the flood, but the pain made it impossible. He clenched his teeth, straining against the restraints, but the magic held him in place.
Tobias’s voice echoed somewhere in the background, but Ronan couldn’t focus on the words. It was like being submerged in a storm, his thoughts crashing and colliding, his vision blurring as the pain reached its peak.
He thought he might’ve shouted a little.
And then, slowly, the intensity began to fade. The bright glow of the runes dimmed, and the crushing pressure in his mind began to ease. Ronan slumped in the chair, his body drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. The pain was still there, but distant now, like a dull throb echoing in his skull. His vision returned to normal, but his mind felt really full. It was like all the blood of his body was in his brain right now.
Tobias stepped forward, unstrapping Ronan’s wrists and ankles, his movements efficient. “It’s over. Now all you need to do is rest.”
Ronan tried to sit up, forcing himself to stand, but his legs felt weak, unsteady beneath him. Tobias tried to give him a hand, but he pushed it away. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness. He took a step forward, determined to hold himself together.
But the moment he moved, the room spun violently, his vision darkening around the edges. He swayed, his body giving out beneath him, and before he could hit the ground, Gideon was there, catching him with a firm grip.
“Take it easy,” Gideon’s voice was calm, but there was a note of concern. He supported Ronan, holding him upright as the dizziness overwhelmed him.
Ronan tried to blink the haze away, but the weight of the ritual was too much. His knees buckled, and despite his best efforts to stay conscious, the darkness closed in. He fainted.