Eleven energies permeate the world.

Balance manifested in Wood.

Change manifested in Water.

Disturbance manifested in Air.

Heat manifested in Fire.

Stability manifested in Earth.

The original five.

Calm manifested in Ice.

Purpose manifested in Crystal.

Speed manifested in Lightning.

Warp manifested in Metal.

The derived four.

Logic manifested in Mind.

Restfulness manifested in Necromancy.

Two outliers.

And from these eleven energies Variations doth manifest.

A Treatise on the Energies of the World by Nino don Lazifez.

Lynica followed Voscov on his walk. Not because she had wanted to initially but because she needed some fresh air after the stunt he'd pulled. His actions did not actually matter and Lynica knew she was being petty but a girl was allowed to have her moments. It also didn't help that when she'd refused to give in, Voscov just went on to pull rank over her. It just wasn't fair.

And so it happened that the aide stormed out of the house in a fit of rage immediately after they were done squaring away their effects while the prince traipsed callously behind her. They strolled across the manor grounds in relative silence, Lynica studiously ignoring Voscov whenever he tried to start a conversation. It was rather easy to do as her liege was rather... okay, very, bad at anything resembling small talk. Eventually, he stopped trying altogether and they just continued on in silence.

Lynica generally wasn't a petty person though and so it took only a few minutes of internal griping to get that particular grievance out of her system, letting her enjoy their... sightseeing, as it were, in a more appreciative frame of mind.

The city lord's manor was beautiful. It was not the buildings themselves as much as it was the sheer amount of thought that had gone into the placing of practically everything. The stone pathways, the buildings, the trees, the flower bushes, and even the clearly artificial stone monoliths all came together to give the manor a comfortable feeling of naturalness that was simply pleasing to the senses. In no time at all Lynica found herself wishing she actually lived there and not for the first time loving, with guilty pleasure, the fact that she was fully in charge of the Arskavi estate. Certainly, the mansion was going to undergo a makeover upon her return.

Lynica turned a corner and drew to a halt as a feminine voice found its way into her ears.

"I'm telling you, Camilla. By the gods, that tailor is talented."

Beneath a tree, and just a few feet away, two girls sat around a table, both of them dressed in silken finery. The girl speaking certainly caught the eye what with the silver-ish locks of hair over her head and down her back. She was beautiful and unreserved, gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Opposite her sat a raven-haired beauty, seemingly content to only listen as she talked.

"Who are those underneath the tree? Anyone I should recognize?" Voscov asked, coming to a stop beside Lynica.

"To the right is the Xerdian heir. I don't recognize her companion," Lynica answered, turning to look at her prince. "Should we greet them? I'd rather just walk on."

It was just about then that the talking girl looked up, catching Voscov's eye for but a second.

"Too late now," Voscov replied Lynica. "She's seen us and it would be rude not to say hi." He moved ahead and Lynica fell into step beside him as they made their way toward the duo.

"Greetings," said Voscov, coming to a stop beside the girls. "Maeser Ellen I presume?" he turned to the girl on his right and gave a light bow. Just a dip of his head and no more.

"Indeed. What gave me away?" Ellen drolled, a slightly amused undertone to her words. The question was clearly rhetorical since it was only the imperial family of Xerdes who were blessed with the unnatural silver locks that framed her visage.

"I have met princess Émilie of Mescary before, hence simple deduction led me to believe that one with a lovely visage such as you possess could only be Xerdes' princess."

Ellen blinked up at the apathetic figure before her, surprise coloring her features for just a moment. Then she smiled, the edges of her eyes crinkling in amusement.

"You're a flirt," she said.

"I have never been told," Voscov said, his unchanging tone making the statement sound droll.

"With an acerbic wit too," she mused. "Maeser Voscov if I'm not mistaken?"

"You are not," Voscov replied.

Ellen turned to Lynica. "And I dare presume this is Lady Lynica of house Arskavi?"

Lynica graced her with a bow. "Indeed I am," she said, smiling politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you, your highness."

"Same here," Ellen replied.

Lynica glanced at the other girl sitting at the table. "I remember hearing, your highness, that the scion of house Varuzhan was your aide, or was I sorely misinformed?" She asked.

Ellen was confused at first and it took her a while to realize what Lynica was implying.

"Oh no," she said at last. "I didn't come here with him. My companion is a high noble of our lands and a close friend of mine."

"Camilla Panariello Estancia." the girl inclined her head toward Voscov and Lynica and introduced herself. "I am deeply sorry for not having introduced myself earlier."

At that time, a servant approached them, clad in the colors of a high maid. She greeted Voscov and Lynica, then turned to Ellen.

"Esteemed guests, the tea leaves have been steeped according to your specifications and your tea is ready."

Ellen nodded.

"Maeser Voscov, do you care to join us for tea?" She asked.

"We would love to, princess, but we have something important to see to and only came over to say hello," he declined.

"A pity," Camilla said. "I am sure you would have loved the tea. The leaves are a Xerdian specialty."

Yes yes, I do not care, Voscov thought, and, as politely as he could manage, excused Lynica and himself so they could continue their sight-seeing.

"Now wasn't that a complete waste of time," Lynica commented as they resumed their trudge through the expansive manor.

"I couldn't agree more," Voscov replied. "Though that girl... that girl is sick."

Lynica glanced at him, intrigued. "Sick? Which one?" She asked.

"Maeser Ellen. She could only be mentally ill. Upending my greeting like that. Wasn't she just meant to agree and allow things to flow naturally? Social niceties are there for a reason," the prince complained.

"Ha," Lynica laughed. "You're the only one I know who has a generic greeting procedure rattling around inside your head. And by the way, you handled it well; I'd bet she didn't expect that for an answer. Though, I don't remember you ever meeting with the Mescarian heir."

"I have not," Voscov replied. "Let us hope that lie does not bowl us over somehow."

At that point, they arrived at the edge of the manor and began to follow the wall, walking alongside the wooden structure as they explored the place in relative silence. The wall, though, was not straight, instead curving and protruding almost randomly. It was as they rounded one of said curves that a cascade of what sounded like curses entered their ears.

Upon coming fully around the curve, they saw a young girl who looked to be about their age clad in the light brown colors of the Manor's servants. She was gazing up at the wall with a frown and her cursing reminded Lynica of Sera throwing insults. In other words, it was not very good.

The girl heard them approaching and turned to them, a frown marring her features. For a second she just frowned at them before something seemed to click and her eyes widened. She froze for a split second before stepping quickly to the side and lowering her head. They passed her by quietly, not ready to put too much thought into whatever she was up to.

Lynica did note, in passing, that she had a hair color on the lighter side of brown - chestnut maybe - and a pair of slate grey eyes. It also didn't pass her notice that the flower bushes planted next to the wall directly behind the girl showed signs of being trampled.

Lynica's eyes trailed up the wall discreetly, spotting two broken streaks of brown leading down to the flowers. Curious, She flexed her manipulation, and felt the streaks of brown resonate.

So it's dirt, she thought, halting to give the servant a once-over.

Eh; anybody doing anything serious would know how to scale a fence properly, she decided. She toyed around with the idea of giving the amateur an advice or two but eventually discarded it and moved on.

"What color are her eyes and hair?" Voscov asked once they were out of earshot. "Look anything like the Mescarian heir or her aide?"

"No, why do you ask?" Lynica replied.

"The custom for female servants in Sealarios is to bend the knee slightly as a noble passes. The girl did none of that."

"She also came in over the fence," Lynica supplied. "Though she could just be the city lord's daughter messing around or something."

"Still does not explain her inclining her head and not her knees though. Even then, the city lord has no offspring."

Lynica shrugged. "Something is going on isn't it?"

Voscov took a moment to think.

"Probably nothing serious," he said eventually. "Now, where did we stop in our efforts of having you call me by name?"

Lynica rolled her eyes.

"Let's get back to our quarters first, yes?"

Behind them, Valerina watched as they walk away and sighed in relief.

They didn't notice anything. Good.

She turned back to the wall, looking up.

"Gods damned wards," she gritted. "Couldn't stay down for more than five seconds, could it?"

Sighing, she turned about, hands on her hips and eyes scanning her surroundings as she tried to decide which direction to head in. She was too nervous to head in the direction of the nicely-dressed pair that just passed, and she suspected strongly that she would get lost if she lost sight of the paved path and so the only direction that remained was her left, where the pair had emerged from.

A way forward chosen, she began to move, a wall to her left and open space on her right as she navigated the stone path. She kept her head down and her pace as brisk as she could manage with her shoulders hunched over nervously. She was scared - and rightfully so. This was the first time she was sneaking into a stranger's compound and she had little idea what would be done to her if she was caught.

Maybe - maybe - she would not have been as nervous if this were Alusia but she was in Sealarios. It was not her home country, nothing was familiar, and worst of all, she'd heard stories.

Just why couldn't the city library contain some old medical journal or something? Valerina complained.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Valerina had been looking for a cure to her illness for a few years, after it had suddenly gotten worse six years ago.

Her parents had searched far and wide. For about seven years after her birth and a year or two after she had gotten worse. It took a thousand medications and therapies - legal and otherwise - and a hundred thousand dashed hopes for them to give up and for Valerina to begin her own search.

Being the oldest known civilization in the multiverse, it was not hard to figure out that Sealarios held valuable, ancient knowledge. If the fact that their ships could sail safely through the fog of chaos energy didn't give it away, the Grand Ward certainly did - no known array or enchantment could hold back something as ephemeral as energy - and Valerina wanted in on that knowledge. If modern medical practices could do nothing for her, then the solution had to lie within ancient records. She refused to believe otherwise.

Such thoughts had led to her soliciting her cousin for help and sneaking out to the ancient city-state.

Sealarios, fortunately, was so old that a public library had somehow managed to crawl its way out of the woodwork and Valerina had thought she would spend all her time there, but after three hours of searching the shelves, she'd found no book of note.

Valerina had always prided herself on having a quick pair of feet, and an even quicker brain. She had thought up an alternative quickly, albeit one that involved trespassing into the compounds of any of the island's elite class. It was the only solution and Valerina figured that if she was to be caught, she might as well make it worth it and go for the biggest fish in the pond. Thankfully, Rowe - gods bless his love of useless trivia - knew a way she could get in.

It had taken them two whole days of testing the wards of the place in a deserted back alley to find out exactly when they would be compromised. It turned out to be about an hour after noon and lasted for a grand total of three seconds.

And that was how Valerina found herself wearing the servant's uniform and shuffling along nervously. Valerina knew it wasn't advisable for her nervousness to show as it would make her seem suspicious as hell but she was scared godsdamnit and there was no way she could talk herself out of it.

She did try to square her shoulders and walk with a bit more confidence in her steps but always quickly found herself in the same nervous posture as before.

As she walked, she spotted a gaggle of servants in the distance walking quickly toward her. She scanned the group for anyone wearing the sash of a high maid and sighed in relief when she didn't see one.

Leave aside the fact that she was scared; she did her homework on the inner workings of the city lord's manor. It wasn't hard, considering that most of it was public knowledge and rumors but from that, she had made up the first of the three phases her grand plan contained.

Part one: Out of sight.

Calling upon every ounce of courage she could weasel out of her heart, she waved to the servants when they got close enough.

"H- Hello," she called, a nervous pounding in her ears. One of the servants halted while the others continued onward, not bothering to give her the time of day.

"Yes?" The servant replied.

"I was wondering if you would be kind enough to direct me to the general stores. High maid Snevi asked me to grab a few things from the storeroom and... I don't really know my way around."

The servant looked up at the sky, frowning and looking impatient. Valerina heard him mutter something derogatory about new hires.

"I'm in a hurry," he said. "Listen well."

In under a minute, he described to her the way to the storeroom of the guest wing and left her to find her way. Thankfully, that was all Valerina had needed and in a matter of minutes, she found the place.

The general storeroom was a somewhat large rectangular room. It occupied the same building as the food store and was close to an empty stable. The food store was locked but the general store was as open as they were going to get.

Walking into the open storeroom, Valerina found its walls lined with bundles of wood and square packs of hay from wall to wall. There were also other knick knacks and barrels that she didn't care to investigate as she went straight to a dusty corner of the room and settled on a pile of loose hay. She rearranged the objects around her so that by the time she was done, she had a nice little hiding space for herself.

"Part one done," she breathed. "I am not going to like part two."

....

Nightfall found Valerina pacing before the door of the room and second-guessing herself. Seven hours alone within the room had let her go over her 'grand plan' with the added pessimism nervousness and anxiety brought with them.

The second part of the plan was easy on paper. Get into the main house and get out. Simple. Easy.

Godsdamned suicide, she griped. How in the thousand realms didn't I see it from the start?

The girl frowned in annoyance. Getting into the main building would be easy enough - she was wearing a servant's dress after all - but from there she would have to improvise. She didn't want to improvise.

Valerina sighed, pushed the door open, and walked out before she could stop herself. She was just giving excuses now. She needed to do this, and as quickly as possible too.

It took Valerina more than a few minutes to find the main house. Not only was the manor obscenely expansive, Valerina also didn't know where exactly the building was. She and Rowe had seen the main house from across the fence and had managed to figure out that the house was vaguely west from her point of entry but it was a thousand times harder to get to the house while navigating around the dozens of courtyards and structures within the compound.

When, eventually, her stumbling about had borne fruit and she caught sight of the main house, she had to sit beneath a tree to catch her breath, work up the courage to move forward, and to simply observe the building.

The main house was a two-story affair - the only story building in the manor as a matter of fact - and was currently the source of the churning anxiety trying to claw its way into the girl's heart. Valerina pushed the feeling down as much as she could manage, got to her feet, and started toward the house at a brisk pace.

She spotted servants hurrying about as she neared and her stomach did flips. It seemed like something was going on. Valerina bit her lips and continued to tell herself that so long as she kept her head down, her chin tucked in, and her pace urgent, she could easily power through. And for the most part, it worked.

She slipped into the house through the servant's entrance and went looking around the first floor for the city lord's study or a private library. At first she was wary of running into the owners of the house but after a while of not seeing anyone, she relaxed, and that caused her to practically waltz right into the kitchen.

It was one of the few remaining rooms she had yet to explore on the first floor and, to be fair, she hadn't heard any noise when she was approaching so she was not prepared for the burst of air so hot it made her flush, or the sight of servants bustling about hurriedly, entering and exiting the massive kitchen through one of three doors that lined the walls of the kitchen.

It took Valerina all of three seconds to realize that firstly, no; this certainly wasn't a place she should be in, and secondly, yes; she would be better off getting the hell out of there.

Three seconds she could have spent moving.

"Hey! You there! The one at the door," someone called.

Valerina took a sharp step back before someone yanked on her arm, pulling her forward and leading her deeper into the room. A quick glance at the person revealed that it was a high maid and if the painful throb coming from her wrist was any indication, one with a grip like a vice.

Go with the flow, she reminded herself. Just go with the flow.

Not only couldn't she throw the lady off, but attempting to do so would garner attention and she could do with as little of that as possible.

They weaved through the throng of servants, the high maid stopping ever so frequently to snap out commands at the kitchen staff. Then she came to a stop as a stocky male servant came through the door carrying a wooden barrel.

"Drop it there Joheven," she said, dragging Valerina next to the barrel. She left Valerina's wrist to open the barrel's lid, send a maid scurrying off for a silver jug and dip a huge cup into what Valerina only just realized was wine of some sort.

"Still good, thank goodness," the high maid muttered upon sniffing the wine and Valerina took advantage of the shift in her focus to slip away.

She made it a total of three steps before someone bumped into her from behind.

"Watch your feet!" Snapped a servant, stepping deftly around her to hand the high maid a silver jug.

The high maid turned to receive the jug and spotted Valerina.

"What are you doing standing there girl?" She demanded. "Get over here will you?"

Valerina began to step forward and the high maid returned her focus to the barrel of wine. Swiftly, she filled the silver jug, thrust it into Valerina's hands, and began to drag her toward one of the three doors.

"No one yet attends the chalice of the maeser from Studor," the high maid explained hurriedly. "That is the station you shall occupy for the duration of the feast." She pushed Valerina through the door and out into a rectangular, occupied hall.

Valerina halted for a second, taking in the new room she was in as the door closed silently behind her. A long rectangular table took up the center of the room and a couple of people sat around the table eating and talking.

Her eyes danced across the room and she noticed that every seat had a maid holding a jug behind it except one. Thinking fast, she surmised that the blonde-haired boy sitting there was the Studorn heir and made her way behind that particular seat. She kept her head down and her eyes from roaming as she took her stand behind the seat and next to the wall.

Valerina let the conversation from the table go over her head, staring hard at the floor and trying to calm her racing heart. She took deep breaths, centering herself and trying to make the sense of the situation.

Firstly, she was a thief that had snuck into the city lord's manor in Sealarios and was now stuck in a brightly-lit dining hall with honoraries of some sort feasting.

That was bad.

But they didn't know she was a thief and weren't paying her any mind.

That was good.

She was dressed as a servant.

That was good.

If she messed up, they would or would not turn their attention to her and her cover may or may not be blown since high maids probably ran tight ships wherever they were employed and would figure her out in a jiffy if they put their mind to it.

That was bad but still up in the future and that she could work on.

I am here to attend the Studorn heir's chalice. My attention should be on it, she thought, raising her head and glancing at the chalice sitting at the prince's elbow. It was still full hence she surmised she wouldn't be needed anytime soon. That left her with nothing to do save wallow in anxiety and she refused to do that.

She took her eyes off the chalice and, out of idle curiosity, swept her gaze over the seated guests.

There were eleven people seated at the table, all dressed in rich finery, but two people stuck out like sore thumbs. Good-looking ones, granted, but sore thumbs nonetheless.

The sight of both of them made Valerina throw her gaze down to the floor once more, eyes wide.

What in the realms is he doing here!? She screamed mentally. Only Alusian imperials had hair that solid a gold color and as far as she knew, imperial heirs didn't partake in the Tournament.

And by the gods, she shouldn't be here either, she complained internally and snuck a peek at the girl sporting impossibly silver hair talking with the boy she had run into that noon. That was the Xerdian heiress alright. Normal hair would never gleam that much under candlelight.

Valerina tightened her grip on the jug as her brain worked overtime trying to make sense of the situation.

Imperial heirs have never partaken of the Tournament, she reasoned. That leaves an invitation as the logical conclusion. Considering that they are dining with the city lord, it is safe to assume he invited them over.

Valerina gulped. She had an idea who the rest of the people at the table were, but just to make sure, she scanned the table once more, matching titles to faces.

Alusian heir... Xerdian heiress... Heiress of Mescary... Heir of Studor... Maeser Voscov... And their frickin aides too. Shit.

Things were turning out to be bad. Very, very bad. If she was caught, there would be a fallout of international proportions. An expansionist state such as Studor would no doubt find a way to twist it into an excuse to invade Alusia; Siadro would milk her nation for all it was worth, and Xerdes... well, the Xerdian emperor was unpredictable so Valerina wasn't sure what he would do.

What she was sure of, though, was that she would be better off dead and buried six feet under.

Valerina pushed down the feeling of panic rising within her and kept reminding herself that no one knew who she was yet. Except maybe prince Gabriel. He had been present at her social debut so it was possible he would recognize her. She prayed he didn't. Her prayer fell flat on its face.

Sitting across from princess Émilie, Gabriel only paid half a mind to the discussion going on at the table, as he poked at the rare steak before him with a knife. From time to time his eyes strayed up to the girl standing to the side and behind Maeser Arvel, as he pondered the reason she was there.

A good while later, he was no closer to figuring out the reason why Valerina was garbed as a servant and seemed to be attending to the Maeser of Studor and so he tuned out thoughts of her from his head and brought his attention back to the table.

"Personally, I do not believe in the existence of the ethereal possessions," prince Alver was saying. "Items able to grant your any wish? Impossible. Even as powerful as the Ethereal four were, even they would be unable to craft such items."

"What about some wishes?" Princess Émilie asked conversationally. "Only wishes that can be met through the natural order of things unlike, say, getting someone to love you or some such."

"As much as your wish would be granted, it would probably create just as much trouble. The best way to get things done is to do it yourself."

"Or delegate," Arint quipped.

"Or delegate," Alver amended. "To the right person. Most commoners just don't have the necessary IQ to do things right."

The statement made Gabriel glance at the man sitting to the right of city lord Kimmel. He looked to be in his mid-twenties or so, with a mop of unruly brown hair, and was slightly grimacing. Gabriel thought he knew why.

There were eleven people seated at the table - Émilie's aide was feeling sick and Studors didn't have aides - and he was the only one with a commoner mother. Given the fact that he was also, technically, a prince of Mescary but wasn't the Maeser even though he was older than Émilie, Gabriel could safely conclude that he was looked down upon within the noble circles of Mescary and was not deemed important in the grand scheme of things.

Alver's last comment was, in a word, tactless. He could as well have insulted Raoul to his face.

"Okay," lady Camilla said, continuing the conversation. "So you don't believe in the existence of the Possessions. But you certainly do believe in records do you not? Nino Lazifez did write on the existence of such did he not? Surely you have read his book Marauders. Such a renowned scholar would never lie now would he?"

Alver drank from his chalice, using the time to ponder. In the end, it was not he who spoke up but Voscov.

"You do know the man was a fraud right?" The prince asked, his tone dry.

"A fraud?" Camilla asked, turning to him in surprise.

"I thought he was hailed as one of the most experienced scholars of the world following the Scourge War," the city lord's wife asked, looking at Voscov with interest.

"He was hailed indeed, and rightfully so too," Voscov said and paused for a moment in thought.

"I may have been exaggerating a little," he amended. "He was not a fraud per se. He was bombastic and paid little thought to the meaning of the adjectives he used and hence was prone to either blowing things well out of proportion-"

"Ha!" Exclaimed prince Alver, interrupting Vocov. "It is certain he did the same with the Possessions."

"-or downplaying them to the point of falsehood," Voscov finished, fixing his indifferent gaze on the prince for a moment. "Though at times he just manages to come across as confusing. It was also a habit of his to instill as much drama and pomp into his works as possible in as much as most of them were academic pursuits."

"And which side do you take Lord Voscov?" Ellen prodded.

"He likely downplayed the power of the Possessions," Voscov answered.

"It is also as probable that he up-scaled it though, so what makes you so sure Maeser Voscov?" The city lord inquired.

"I am not sure city lord," Voscov replied. "But I choose to believe."

"Speaking on sureties, how did you get to know Nino don Lazifez wrote that way?" Gabriel asked.

"I've read his Treatise on the Energies of the World. It gets the main points across but is full of pointless drivel too," Voscov paused. "I've also read his biography by McLean," he added almost as an afterthought.

"And what do you think, sir Arint?" Lord Kimmel's wife, Hybna, asked.

Arint smiled slightly at the question.

"Well," he said. "I think it exists. Not for any reason but for the fact that it would solve myriad problems if it does and I do tend to think that if I believe something exists hard enough, then it probably does."

"That is quite... unreasonable, don't you think?" Raoul commented.

Arint opened his mouth to speak but Ellen beat him to it.

"Unreasonable?" She asked. "In what way? It makes perfect sense does it not?"

Alver sipped from his cup, trying hard to withhold an eye roll. Only one such as she could find sense in the bull talk Arint had spouted. The Rantiavums were known for being wrong in the head after all. So much so, in fact, that it was considered common knowledge they were half crazy.

Alver dropped his chalice and Gabriel noticed a couple of things happen almost immediately.

Firstly, Valerina stepped forward to fill the cup.

Secondly, Voscov's eye paused on her form for a second.

Thirdly, Ellen noticed since she sat directly before him and she tracked his line of sight, settling finally on Valerina. Her purple eyes glimmered with interest.