“He was there when I breathed my last,” Laura said, her lips upturned and hands shivering. They were walking back to the manor, the alley deserted enough for Laura to feel uneasy, but her brother had other plans.

“Sure enough,” Byrak played with the scepter in his hands. “If we kill him, then we don’t have to worry about your death, do we?”

“Brother…” Laura saw a resolute expression in his eyes. “We can’t kill a… noble.”

“Is it so hard to kill some old geezer?” Byrak smiled, watching the shadows emerging from the darkness, blocking their way in the deep alley.

He pushed Laura behind him protectively as more than five men congested the alley. They were wearing robes, most hands carrying magical ornaments, the circuitry matching with their own magic conduits. Laura glanced at the silhouettes, pacing her irregular heartbeat with calm breaths. Since she knew she wouldn’t die here, her mind was more tranquil than anticipated.

She saw the glow in Byrak’s hand gradually coalescing into a swirling ball of fire. With each moment, she found herself gaining a deeper understanding of mana transmutation–the intricate affinity of the mages and the magic circuitry that allowed the transmutation. Though she had many questions, her brother had given her the right direction to look into, and she could assess why everyone with magic conduits wielded one or the other magical artifact. Byrak was a battle mage, his circuits resembling none of the classes or elements in particular. So, his body was his magical ornament, Laura reasoned.

“Are we talking, or do you intend to take me down by force?” Byrak asked with a grin, already hurling the [Fire Ball] at the first silhouette. A wall dissipated the fire as the man raised his enchanted sword to cast a spell.

“Water affinity, huh? Unfortunate for you that I am a battle mage.” Byrak grinned, shuffling the scepter in his hands, and kneed the first silhouette in the stomach, ducking his opponent’s jab.

Laura tightened her grip on the dagger, her eyes locked onto his movements in awe. There was a sharp contrast in their abilities, and it became more evident as she noticed Byrak almost floating in a veil of magic water, each movement more blithe and precise than before. The cloaked silhouettes dropped one after the other, their little resistance in vain against a mage of his caliber.

[Underdeveloped brain: Cured 10%]

Laura put her hands together, trying to channel the mana like her brother had taught her: Gather the essence of the mana floating around, guide it through the conduits, and store it in the core. The glow disappeared on her hands as fast as it appeared, leaving her gasping for breath. With a pout, she watched Byrak standing before the sprawled men with a grin.

[Ruptured Magic Conduits: Cured 3%]

Laura beamed, her previous tiredness disappearing. More attempts didn’t help her, and she leaned against the edifice beside her with a frown.

“Now,” Byrak shouted as he walked toward Laura, “if you want this scepter, come to Valecrest mansion personally. There are things your stupid ass should know.”

“I… understood, brother,” Laura said with a weak smile. “I understood how battle mages work!”

“Did you?” Byrak ruffled her hair, wiping her forehead with his sleeves. “Tell me, then. Why can only battle mages invoke spells without any magic items imbued with circuits?”

“The magic circuits in their body are devoid of a particular shape!” Laura said, taking hastened breaths. “Every person with a defined magic circuit needs a medium, say a magical item, with similar circuitry to disperse the mana within,” she said coherently, surprised that she could pace her words with her thoughts. “The spells they can cast are heavily reliant on the ability of the item to transmute the mana into different forms. But you don’t have a magic circuit, or in essence, the magic circuit is similar to that of free elemental mana. In essence, as long as you will it, you can use any elemental spell.”

Byrak grinned as he walked out of the alley with her. “Perfect! The conduits dictate the circuits in every mage, and I have irregular circuits, thanks to our old man. But any elemental spell is an overstatement because it’s almost impossible to match one imperfection to every other imperfection in the realm. I can use all elemental mana because of my heirloom, Altercation. It lets me deform my circuits because they have no particular shape, and thus, I can use more elemental spells than usual battle mages. They are not mutually exclusive, and my heirloom works only because I am a battle mage."

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Laura nodded, disappointment flashing across her eyes. “Does that mean I can only use one elemental mana?”

Byrak squinted his eyes and tapped her head with the scepter. “We don’t even know if you have defined magic circuits. For all I know, mother was a…” he paused, running his hand over his hair. "I'll tell you when you need to know."

Laura pouted, but she followed him wordlessly. They indulged in idle chatter, and Laura noticed his mood had plummeted since the mention of their mother.

The fire burned in the lanterns erected on their manor's tall, majestic gate. It appeared imposing, like a military station, and Laura knew her father preferred it that way. The warm glow of the fire lamps welcomed them into the lush green grass inside, the pavements curling all around the large manor to the disjoint stables and servant quarters behind. There were arched rocks in the lawn, housing chairs, and a table for a quiet coffee, but Laura had yet to enjoy a leisure time for herself.

She parted ways with her brother in the foyer and climbed to her room, bypassing the warm hearth, which was unattended. After a short debate, she descended the stairs again and entered the exquisite room decked with two couches lining parallel to the hearth. The fire crackled in the hearth as she sat, the warmth permeating her bones after a cold night. She watched the candles glowing in a fluttering flame at every corner of the room, the ambiance emphasizing the rustic charm that appeared alien to her.

Laura cradled against the couch, the soft warmth reminding her of her mother's embrace. Tears rolled down her eyes, her breath hitched, and she desperately wiped her eyes with her sleeves. The hollow feeling crumbled her from the inside. She bit her sleeve to escape the sound, the muffled cries making her feel breathless. Laura closed her eyes and leaned her head against the handrest after a while, her eyes struggling to stay open.

{Memory Unlocked: A Lonely Night]

Laura saw the lady in her dream again, this time crying herself to sleep on the floor. She tried to reach for her, pushing aside the sprawled papers and empty bottles of tablets. A caress made her breaths hitch as she opened her eyes and stared at Laura. But her empty eyes were looking at the silhouette behind her, an apparition of a person she had never seen before, the features very similar to the crying woman, a tad older.

Ma.

She heard the words, and everything faded into nothingness.

Laura stirred from the slumber, her senses still clouded, as the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears from the entrance. Squinting, she made out three indistinct silhouettes heading toward the room opposite her cozy haven. The guestroom, she surmised, but why so late at night? Blinking sleep from her eyes, Laura reluctantly roused herself and trailed the silhouettes to their destination. Just as she knocked over a porcelain jar, her sly movement did not escape Byrak's notice. He just seized her hand with a smile and ushered her into the room alongside him.

“Who is this?” The man asked, his features hidden underneath the scarf wrapped around his face. The couches were similar to the ones in the other room, but the hearth was unlit. Only hazy candlelights illuminated the otherwise dark room.

“My sister, Your Highness,” Byrak said, watching the two men casually. The second man was silent, one hand on his sword within the scabbard strapped across his waist. “We don’t keep maids and servants awake at night, so you have to do without coffee.”

“Not a problem,” the man said. “Is your father awake? I presume he doesn’t want to see me anywhere close to the manor.”

“Father doesn’t hold any grudges, Your Highness,” Byrak picked up the scepter from under the couch. “So you don’t have to worry. At most, he might chop your limbs and cut your tongue, but nothing more.”

Jultan, Laura knew now. Perhaps they had come here to get the scepter.

The Prince chuckled, his laughter filling the silence as he unraveled the scarf, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair that tumbled naturally down his shoulders. His eyes gleamed keenly, their unique colors immediately capturing her attention. One eye held a striking azure hue, while the other matched the vivid shade of his crimson locks.

“No wonder you dared to offend Lord Yyk,” he said with a smile, lazily leaning against the couch.

“It was his scheme all along to entice you into purchasing this artifact for a sky-high prince,” Byrak flipped the staff and handed it to Jultan. “Were you ready to empty your coffers for a wasteful stick? What about the throne? Your people?”

“What do you mean?” Jultan took the scepter, his eyes inadvertently moving away from Byrak’s face to the artifact.

“Your retainers would understand it better,” Byrak got up with a sigh. “Lord Yyk is not just your adversary, he is mine too. So, if you want to ensure the secondborn prince doesn’t kick you off the pedestal, cut all his links. And once you are done handling the old man,” Byrak took the scepter from Jultan’s hands, “come to take this.”

There was silence in the room until Jultan spoke again. “Let me see what I can do, Byrak,” he said, rising from his seat and draping the scarf across his face. “In the meantime, take care of the scepter for me. In the wrong hands, it can be a frightening weapon that can wipe out an entire kingdom and feast on the souls of the dead.”

Byrak nodded, and Laura followed him silently as they saw them off.

Would this help her avoid death? She didn’t know. At least there was some hope.