“Parry!” Byrak landed another strike on her head, his wooden sword bringing tears into her eyes more than once.

“It hurts!” Laura said, her voice concealing frustration.

“Then learn to parry strikes!” Byrak grinned, landing another strike on her head. “Good to see that you are learning to stand up for yourself.”

Laura pouted as she swung the practice sword at his waist. With a deft motion, Byrak swiftly intercepted her strike by positioning his sword vertically alongside his waist.

“You are too slow,” Byrak smiled mischievously and landed a third strike on her head. This time, though, Laura could parry the strike with her own, and she pushed forth for a stiff jab, the sword rolling out of her hands as Byrak countered.

“That was good,” he picked up her little sword and handed it to her. “Make it faster and more smoother. I can exactly read your intentions because you spend too much time thinking about your next move. Stop doing that, and you’ll land a hit on me in a few days.”

Laura frowned and puffed her cheeks, much to Byrak’s amusement. She heard him laugh as he made his way to the manor through the stony passage.

“Hurry up if you don’t want to miss the meal.”

Hunger got the best of her, and Laura let her brother off the hook.

The days had been idle since the auction, her morning practice taking most of her time. She spent the rest of the afternoon napping, more often than not, given the exertion Byrak’s training called for. But she felt the best these days; her arms had gained some mass, and she could easily handle the practice sword. Though its weight was nowhere close to Byrak’s own sword, she felt a sense of accomplishment. She focused her thoughts, trying to get a physical picture of her prowess, and her mind lit up with things she wanted to see.

[Family Heirloom Unlocked: Splintering]

[Splintering: Status 18%]

[Splintering: Potency 50%; Reduces by half for every additional person alive who knows the spell ]

She didn't understand how the status of splintering worked. As far as she had counted, it had been two fortnights since her mother’s death. So, the numbers didn’t quite add up. Then again, she more or less knew that there was another person with her heirloom, though she was adamant about not knowing their identity.

[Ailments:

* Underdeveloped brain: Cured 23%

* Ruptured magic conduits: Cured 5%

* Despondency: Cured 20%

* Memory Loss: Cured 8%

* Villainess: Incurable]

[Mana In Conduits: 0/0]

[Spells: None]

Laura glanced at the myriad of moving clouds and sighed. She could hardly procure magic even after training her body incessantly every passing day. Since she had watched Byrak use the spells, her fascination with magic had made her gobble up all the books on mana transmutation in the manor. There were only a few scattered in her father’s study, but her request to buy new ones was always rejected by Byrak.

A solid foundation will take you much further. Don’t swing the sword before you learn how to hold it. Byrak had said.

She returned to the manor with a dejected smile, her father and brother already waiting for her at the dining table.

“I will have a bath first, Father,” Laura said, straightening her tunic.

“Don’t bother,” Othwash replied with a wave of his hand. “Take your seat.”

She had gotten used to her father’s personality, and her fear had disappeared owing to the small conversations they had every day. He wore a dark robe crafted from the silk woven in their textile mill, home to thousands of silkworms and a couple of mulberry trees. Laura had visited the workshop a few days ago, and the servants had been welcoming enough to show her around the looms with enthusiasm unseen in their manor.

Othwash adhered to the spoon with his whole palm and stuffed the soup in his mouth meticulously. Habits were to drink it from the entire bowl, but on Laura’s request, the men in the family were trying to learn proper etiquette. After all, a courtesy mentor for only herself didn’t make sense.

Byrak casually munched down the loaf of bread along with a mouthful of steak. Laura just watched silently until a maid served her some soup, tagged with bread. Byrak didn’t miss the chance to drop some meat over the bland bread.

“Tessia is coming to pick you up in a while,” Byrak said, his mouth stuffed. “Told me she’d like to take you out for shopping. Take a few gold coins in my pochette. I’ll ask Ana to tag along. Escheven will have arranged some guards for both of you.”

Laura bobbed her head, her mouth too dry to reply when faced with delicious food.

–

A while turned out to be more than a few hours. When Tessia came to the manor, the sun had already disappeared from the sky. Laura was looking forward to the outing so badly that she just ran to the foyer to welcome her friend.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Good that you didn’t make me wait,” Tessia nodded smugly. “I would have left you here and gone by myself.”

Laura shook her head in dismay and handed the pochette to Ana, who had tagged along. “I wouldn’t dare to make Lady Tessia wait,” she rolled her eyes.

“Eh? I haven’t seen you for a few days, but it seems like you’ve grown horns on your head. Did you eat my Byrak’s heart?”

“What?” Laura stared at her awkwardly as they made their way to the carriage.

“You don’t know what are Daems? I’m embarrassed to call myself a sheltered lady before you,” Tessia giggled and pointed to the carriage.

Laura's gloved hand reached for the ostentatious carriage door, its intricate detailing glinting in the soft evening glow. The door, adorned with rich upholstery, exuded elegance. As she opened it, the carriage revealed its interior—a lavish cushioned seat adorned with plush velvet and silk, softening the jarring transition from the outside world.

Tessia entered soon after and closed the door. “The maids will take another carriage. You should stop indulging the servants of the manor. They should be reminded of their status ever so often,” she clenched her hands, “or they’ll do things you can’t even begin to imagine.”

Ana’s face flashed in her mind, and Laura shook her head with a smile. That girl was too innocent for her to treat harshly. “What are Daems?”

“Summoned demons,” Tessia said, her voice serious. “They run rampant in the demon realm, and only Summoning mages can create pacts with them to let them serve as our slaves. You’ll come across a couple in the capital, though most are hidden behind a veil of glamor, so they look no different from mortals. Legends say they were mortals once but started feasting on the hearts of their loved ones in exchange for raw strength. This was before mana pools opened up and flooded the world with magic. No one knows how they got sealed in the demon realm, but sages say it involved the discovery of lost spells that enabled dimensional drifting.”

Laura rested her chin on her hand and listened intently. There was a lot to decipher in her words. Summoning mages warranted artifacts with summoning magic circuits to make pacts. From what she had garnered from the books, the artifacts for necromancy and summoning were cast away a long time ago; the magic items claimed to be blasphemous to exist during the turbulent period of the past.

“I thought there were no artifacts left,” Laura voiced her thoughts.

“Some blatant lies to keep the commoners grounded,” Tessia scowled, uncharacteristic of her status. “I heard from my brother that a Daem had escaped the summoning ritual a few days back. Byrak should know it too, but he doesn’t think kids should know everything.”

Laura frowned. “I am not a kid!”

“I am a year older, so to me, you’ll always be a kid,” Tessia said proudly.

“Does our kingdom have Summoners?” Laura asked, ignoring her remark. Her brain worked differently as far as she was concerned.

“How should I know?” Tessia rolled her eyes. “If I had answers to all your questions, I had little need to flaunt my status in the Academy to earn respect.”

The carriage reached a standstill after a few minutes of idle chatter. Laura pulled the curtains and peered outside through the glossy door window.

Tucked away on a quaint, cobblestone street, a tea store stood in a serene ambiance amidst the bustling city. The exterior was adorned with wooden beams, and a quaint, welcoming sign swung gently in the breeze, bearing the store's name, "Tranquil Tea Emporium." The windows were large and framed with intricately designed wrought-iron grilles, allowing glimpses of the warm, golden glow from within.

“It’s my favorite shop,” Tessia said, opening the carriage door. “If you don’t like the Almond Tea Cake and Green Tea Macarons from this heaven, you don’t deserve to be my crony.”

Laura didn’t want to be her sidekick but knew better than to reason with her.

When they entered the store, the distinct aroma of pastries and soothing scents took her by surprise. Polished oak shelves lined the walls, displaying ornate handcrafted porcelain teapots of various shapes and designs. Soft lighting from the mana lamps gave a rustic feel to the ebony round tables scattered throughout the room.

Tessia didn’t stay behind to marvel at the scenic beauty of the store and dragged Laura to the floor above. There were doors on either side of the narrow passage, most strapped with ‘reserved’ plaque. The waitress on the floor recognized Tessia at a glance and took her to their room.

“The usual,” Tessia said before sitting on the couch strapped with embroidery. “And make it fast. I don’t want to cause a ruckus like last time.”

“This servant understands, noble lady,” the women bowed respectfully and retreated.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tessia leaned against the couch, eyes glued to Laura. “What’s your heirloom?”

Laura brought her eyes away from the intricate silk draping the high-arched windows to the girl before her. She appeared different from her usual self, and Laura sensed some animosity from her.

“My brother has asked me not to disclose it,” Laura said politely, straightening her posture, “whether to friends or foes.”

“Indeed,” Tessia nodded, “he has taught you well. But I can force it out of you now, can’t I?”

Laura’s brows creased, and she frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Tessia smiled. She removed the fork on the table separating them and pointed it at her. “I can hurt you badly with this harmless tool.”

[Underdeveloped Brain: Cured 25%

Maniacal tendencies unlocked. Grants user immunity against threats and bloodshed.]

[Despondency: Cured 25%

Resilience unlocked: Grants user better stress management ability.]

Laura reached for the dagger on her ankle. “And I can kill you.”

The words came out before she could process them in her head. To say she wasn’t surprised was an understatement.

Tessia was taken aback and chuckled. “I thought you were all meek and reserved. I suppose Byrak’s influence is rubbing you the wrong way.”

With a pause, she dropped the fork on the table and raised her hands. “This was your brother’s idea. Don’t blame me. He wanted to know if you’d give away your heirloom with a little push. Though, you can make any well-bred kid from a noble family cry with that stare alone.”

Laura regarded her silently for a while before sighing. There was hardly any reason to hold her accountable, and their amicable conversation resumed amidst Laura’s self-doubt. She was ready to kill Tessia, wasn’t she?

Before she had time to reason out her actions, the door to the room burst open, and a man dressed in a threadbare tunic glanced around the room. He was sweating profusely, his hair clinging to his haggard face. Laura moved closer to Tessia after seeing her equally confused, the dagger in her hands.

“How did my guards let you inside?!” Tassia screamed at his face, her fingers pointing in his direction.

The blood on his hands gave Laura the necessary answers, but unlike Tessia, she was calm. Perhaps her resilience kept her grounded, or her brother’s incessant training was showing fruit. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she wouldn’t die here, so any extreme action today wouldn’t kill her.

Which meant she could kill this man here. The thought stirred something inside her, though she was too occupied to notice.

The man licked the blood on his hands, and Laura saw four menacing horns emerging from the man’s head. Black scales appeared over his body, the haggard skin nowhere in sight as the man bulked up. His nails extended into sharp claws, and his once-meek eyes were replaced by bloodshot, malevolent orbs.