Astrid sat on an oak stool at the head of my tub. Her pale blue sleeves, a blue that matches the paint on my walls, were pushed up. Her calloused hands ground at my scalp, massaging the roots. I still didn't make a sound, not even to my maid. But I didn't need to. After practically raising me the woman knew my ticks. She also knew that I was far more mature than I even showed to Teller and my father. The two thought that I was smart and clever for my age, but neither thought that I had the foresight or wisdom to actually turn my intelligence into a weapon.
I remembered when I first decided to start showing Astrid how intelligent I truly was. I was about to turn three and no one knew about my ability to manipulate Ice. Though some people thought that it was unnatural that I could walk through below freezing temperatures with nothing but a thin frock and be completely fine afterwards. Astrid had walked into the room and caught me reading a copy of Tactics of the High North. A sadly incomplete text written by an unknown author from the monasteries of the Kingfall Peaks. Which is a mountain range that cuts into Scidia in the south and is so named because the first Scidian Emperor met his death in that mountain range. Though he was widely known as a king at the time and the name of the mountain range just never got updated. The range has other names, older names. I just don't know what they are and none of my books speak of them.
Well, Astrid saw me reading said book and practically lost her mind going on about how I shouldn't be reading such materials and that it would corrupt me and make me nothing more than an empty-headed lout like my father. Her words against my father surprised me so much that I almost dropped the text then and there. Thankfully I did not, otherwise Urgl, the keep's librarian, would have barred me from his shelves. I had attempted to use my ice manipulation to spell words out for her. My hands were still incapable of manipulating a quill with enough deftness to not look like a fool. My current writing is adequate, if not altogether pretty. I had little patience for learning calligraphy. Astrid, however, has a deft hand with the written word despite her poor vocabulary at it. The look on her face nearly brought me to laughter. I had to mold Ice over the handle so she wouldn't run out of the room and to keep Teller from barging in. I think he's been suspicious of me since that incident. Astrid eventually calmed down a few minutes after that. Enough, at least, to read the words I was forming from Ice.
ASTRID SMIDR. DO NOT SPEAK.
I will admit the first statement was rather heavy-handed. She undoubtedly believed that it was some spirit attempting to trick her. Which is exactly why I followed the statement with more.
MY NAME IS HIJLA NORLAND. MY PERSONAL BUTLER'S NAME IS GABRIEL TELLER.
Shortly thereafter I began to describe different things that others in the keep had whispered about to prove that I was the source of the Ice words. On numerous occasions I performed intensive calculations and made certain observations of the keep's inner workings over Ice. It took several months before the woman's disbelief faded and she was left with accepting the individual before her.
Since then she hasn't corrected my choice of reading, though she does nag me constantly to go out and play like my sisters had done and how the common children do. However, I can't. Unlike my sisters, who are remarkably shortsighted considering the stock they came from, I could already see the cracks starting to form in Norland. I knew that our life would be jeopardized. I just don't know when. And so I read, and learned, and practiced. And I planned. Not even Astrid knows how many plots I have scheduled, nor does she know all of my connections.
"Lady Hijla," My head quirked up at her voice. Strange, this is the first time she's used my name. "Did you forget?" I hate it when she asks me that question. Mainly because it meant that I had truly forgotten something. Today is the first day of Spring, though Winter is loathe to let go. That is the only thing I can think of that would be special about today. Confused, my eyebrows knocked together, I looked up at my maid through the mirror at the foot of the tub. I didn't care for looking into mirrors. They somehow felt wrong. I could see myself now. My face was strange for the North. I was the visual opposite of my three sisters. They had curly blonde locks that went past their shoulders. Mine were straight, cut at my shoulders, and as black as a raven's crown. They had our mother's skin. Naturally copper and able to tan even under Norland's sun. They attempted, quite unsuccessfully, to keep their skin as pale as possible. Apparently it was deemed attractive in Scidia to be as pale as a newborn's bum. Now I was pale. Not like the butt of an infant. Paler. Like a fresh fall of snow. So pale that in most people you would be able to see all of their blood vessels. Mine were not visible. As such my skin appeared to be like fine porcelain. I didn't like it. It makes me look like a ghost. My eyebrows are thick and bold, though not to the point that they would look like bear caterpillars. My mouth is small but with full lips.
All of these things make my sisters jealous. Jealous of a four year old child. My most damning feature are my eyes. They do not look like my father's, whose eyes are a pale mockery of my own, nor do they look like the blue of any other northerner I've ever met. They are a true blue. Sapphires the likes of which only adorn the fingers of the emperor himself. I dislike mirrors because of my eyes. They don't feel like mine. I know they are mine, but they look exactly like Winter's eyes only with human pupils.
"It's your naming day, Lady Hijla." Astrid's smile plastered across her face. It took me a moment to realize what she said. My maid was right, I had forgotten. Today is my fifth birthday. Which meant that instead of being able to enjoy my evening in the midst of a book's pages I was to be carted off to the Temple of Ank here in Setja. It would also be the time at which my name is added to the official lineage of my family. I once looked forward to this day. That is until I learned that I would be nothing more than an especially fat hog at one of the annual harvest fairs.
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I rolled my eyes up at Astrid. She was already aware of my apathy toward the event. I did, after all, already have a name and thus the main point of the practice was already taken care of. Astrid was excited enough for the both of us. She ushered me out of the bath, and quickly patted me down with several towels. The woman was always frantic when I left the bath even though she is aware that I can't come to harm from cold water. I glanced back at the stone tub. Another of those things that marked me as separate to my sisters. They had true porcelain tubs purchased in the capitol and built in Gallis of Urgeld. Urgeld being a small duchy that touches both the Wailing Sea and the Kingfall Peaks. I would be lying if I said it did not bother me. It does, they wasted quite a bit of money on them. It irked me more that my father allowed it.
Astrid was attempting to dry my hair while I sat at my vanity. I knew it would take some time as my hair had a tendency to hold onto water. Closing my eyes I activated meditation. I should take advantage of my time while I have it.
My pavilion, which is what I have taken to calling my inner world, was quite a bit different than it used to be. The biggest difference are the bookshelves. I had discovered some time ago that by correctly molding conviction I could make permanent structures in my pavilion. Which led to the library that surrounded my inner leylines. Another term that I made up. My father had books that detailed the inner workings but I couldn't read them without drawing undo attention. It would have to wait until my growth levels were done and I gained my first class. I was aiming to obtain some sort of scholar class as it would provide me with experience for merely studying. Being a noble I would automatically be enrolled in the Emperor's University in Scidia when I turned 10. If I could ensure that I had my first class before that time then there was a high chance that I would reach the first Threshold before I graduated. With at least a two year headstart and in an environment that pushed for learning and a class that gave me bonuses for it it should be a relative walk in the park.
There were two pedestals in my pavilion. The first, which sat in the center between all four of the leylines, was the pedestal upon which my Character Sheet rested. The second sat at the gate to my inner library which laid between my manaline and faithline. Above it hovered a familiar red wisp. In front of the wisp laid a stack of papers that were being filled up with text. This was also how I had transcribed the majority of the books in my inner library. Wisps, despite having very little true intelligence beyond the desire to move and sing, could follow rules to the letter. I was sorely tempted to try and 'program' the creature with information from my previous life. However, I apparently had little love for the art then and it would simply take too much of my time and energy to try and replicate it with the faulty knowledge I did have on the subject. Thankfully I could just tell the spirit to copy words and inform me if certain ones cropped up. Especially anything that held my name or the words "youngest daughter". Those could hold some issues for me.
If there was one good thing about turning five it was that I'd be able to more actively research different subjects. Mostly, skill and class acquisition. I also wanted to see if I couldn't find any detailed works on other Mana Organs or structures like them for the other three leylines. I already knew quite a bit about my Mana Heart from Angard. That conversation ended with me learning that mine is still incomplete. The forced Mana consumption was indicative of that. A true mana Heart, he told me, could be allowed to consume as much Mana you generated as you want, but can also be left to not use any at all. I was looking forward to my own becoming a true Mana Heart. The thing devoured my mana regen. With an Int of 19 I should be generating 19 points per hour, not including anything from my feats or skills, but I was only getting a little over 3 an hour as it currently stood. If I used all of my Mana right now it would take me 68 hours to regain it all. Thankfully my wisp drew on my lifeline for power and with my nigh on prodigious regeneration for my age it was barely noticeable.
To put it in perspective between having a 44 in Con, Health Regeneration III, Physical Conditioning Lv 15, and Mana Heart IV I was generating 21 points of Health per day. The average for most my age was less than 4. A true warrior would easily overshadow such a number, but I was no warrior. The pay off for putting so many points in Con was that I had the bare minimum of 7 points in both Str and Dex. My Charisma was even worse with just 5 points. Needless to say, I will not be making any new friends soon. My plan was to keep pushing points towards my Health and its regeneration for the foreseeable future. I also needed to look into an actual training schedule for my Attributes. I, like most children, had a temperary trait called Growing. While it is in effect I have an increased chance of gaining permanent Attribute points from doing various tasks. Almost all lifetime trades had specific training manuals to account for this. It is also why I had neglected to put any points into two of my three physical Attributes. Why would I waste points when I could just train for them?
A sharp prick pulled me out of my pavilion. My eyes rebelled at the sudden light that assaulted them. Astrid stood looming over me. Then again, everyone loomed over me. It was what happened when you were only 4'2". There was a frown on her face.
"Lady Hijla, you must look like you want to be at your naming ceremony. Otherwise others will talk." I frowned at my maid, purposely making it difficult for her to apply the makeup she wanted to. A slow twist of my hands and I could feel as my skill Ice Manipulation and the feat of the same name activated in tandem. The glass filled with ice on my desk rattled. I had several of them in my room. Astrid made sure they were always full of fresh ice. Slowly the ice moved. It twisted into thin tendrils, cracking and rejoining as it did so. Words formed as I concentrated. My eyes screwed shut. I didn't need them in order to do what I wanted. I had the image already in my head. Finally the ice formed the words I wanted it to.
WILL DO BEST NO MAKEUP
A simple statement to most, but a growing mark of my independence.