Perched by the open casement of my chamber, I found myself staring at the bowl brimming with assorted fruits nestled in my lap. With a song upon my lips, fit for a noble maiden of my station.

Thus, I began my lamentation.

"There are too. Many. Grapes. In my fruit bowwwwwl,

I craaave a-finer-fruit!

I DEMAND a better fruit!"

With a sudden surge of indignation, I hurled the bowl skyward. A trajectory defying gravity, propelled by the very fervor of my frustration.

A fork brandished menacingly as I lunged towards the luminous eye of the ritual on my floor.

By the name of the Moonweaver, I swore that the eye recoiled in response to my sudden lunge. Narrowing my gaze, I heightened the aura of dread emanating from my eyes, channelling a smidgen of mana into [Eyes of Terror Evocation.]

My fingers slowly traced the outline of the blood ritual once again. The bloody tree ensconced within a circle. A trunk adorned with a solitary, glowing eye. Thus far, only the eye had seen fit to illuminate, for I had yet to discern the means to ‘appease them’.

I had toyed with the notion of returning to the untamed wilderness once more.

Ahh, where the wind whispers to the trees. Wherein the rustle of leaves held sway over my heart. Where I can just go unhinged and stab monsters to my heart’s content. Yet, alas, such an opportunity had yet to present itself.

Now, with Seraphina's tutelage guiding me along the path of becoming a revered mage, the spotlight seemed to follow my every move. There was no slipping away unnoticed for a solitary jaunt into the forest, oh no. It appeared I would need to devise an alternative approach.

A curious aspect puzzled me still. While the stone floor of my chamber remained steadfast and unyielding beneath my feet, the area enshrouded by the ritual possessed a strangely soft quality. It was almost as if it defied the laws of solidity, yet despite its pliancy, I found myself unable to penetrate its confines. So, it was not a liquid either.

The ritual hinted at a process of metamorphosis, with my rebirth marking its culmination. Yet, my rebirth was just a final phase that would bring about this ritual’s completion.

"I dare not fathom the consequences that may unfold. But mark my words, by the name of the Moonweaver, if this proves to be naught but a cunning ploy to summon forth a long-sealed demon, I shall unleash a fury the likes of which this county has never witnessed."

I fixed my gaze upon the luminous eye nestled within the trunk of the ritualistic tree.

"My emotional state is already akin to that of a being devoid of humanity. Yet, in death, I can only envision a further descent into darkness. So, to whomever or whatever may be observing my plight, should you dare to encroach upon this sacred chamber of mine, I shall fucking flay you alive."

A bit dramatic, But I didn’t break my gaze. Soon, a familiar voice resounded within the recesses of my mind, a telltale sign of someone nearby succumbing to fear. Yet, as I glanced around, there was no one to be seen, save for the gaze of a certain solitary eye.

Confirmation, at last. There was indeed someone or something lurking beyond the boundaries of this ritual circle, likely the very entity observing my every move.

And now, it felt the fear, as it rightly should.

Ah, the peculiarities of existence! I used to ponder the incessant dullness in my emotional spectrum. But gradually, it dulled to the point where I simply couldn't be bothered anymore. Not exactly a stellar approach. But, one ought to maintain a facade of normalcy, if only to remember how it's done!

So, that's precisely what I did.

Rising from my perch beside the ritual circle, I carefully covered it once more, like a witch concealing a particularly unimpressive magic circle. My notebook brimmed with my musings, basic rules I concocted to keep my humanity intact. Amidst the madness that I could see encroaching upon my reality.

1) Never harm the innocents. Even though my inner predator might salivate at the thought of perfect prey, I pledged to keep it in check. Rationality shall reign supreme, allowing me to discern truth from impulse. No harming the 'innocent,' whatever that means in this topsy-turvy world.

2) Always maintain secrecy. I'm as clueless about this system and its 'blessed ones' as a vixen is about algebra. Whether the world is oblivious or just playing coy, the safest bet is to keep myself shrouded in secrecy. It was always better to be mysterious than to be dissected in a magical medieval lab!

3) Protect the family. Why did I add this point? Perhaps out of sheer sentimentality or a delusional hope that they'll reciprocate someday. Regardless, I'll always cherish them, even if most of them are as warm as an ice cube. My duty is clear: shield them from harm, even if the source is me.

Ah, the memory of that confrontation with Zach in the forest still smolders in my mind. The primal urge to throttle him at that moment. An indelible mark. Constantly stoking the flames of paranoia within.

Thus, this final point served as a reminder: never let harm befall my family, even if the threat originates from within. For deep down, I remain a girl longing for familial warmth, despite the doubts that gnaw at my soul.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

There were just three rules for now, more would be added soon.

I closed the notebook with a grin, suppressing a chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Everything inscribed within its English-laden pages was enough to make a native of this world soil their smallclothes in terror.

My gaze flickered briefly to the carpet concealing the ritual circle below.

A feeling, nothing more, but I couldn't shake the notion that whatever lurked beneath that circle would spring to life once the 'rebirth' portion of the ritual was complete.

I crossed my fingers, hoping against hope that whatever entity awaited wasn't of the hostile variety.

***

"The Golden Lion Inn..." I murmured, the words rolling off my tongue as Marie nodded beside me.

Finally, Marie had returned with news. Seraphina, that tower head, was lodging at the Golden Lion Inn. Quite the establishment, if I do say so myself, nestled snugly within our county's boundaries. Made sense, really, considering her wealth and status. But if it were me, the Golden Lion wouldn't be my first choice.

"Is something amiss, Milady?" Marie inquired, her brow furrowing.

"Just pondering," I replied, tapping my chin. "It's just that Magistra Seraphina could have selected lodgings in the wealthier districts. The Golden Lion's location doesn't sit quite right with me."

Marie's frown deepened. "Why's that? It's one of the finest inns, conveniently close to the church. Perhaps Lady Seraphina is a devout follower of the Moonweaver."

Oh, if only it were that simple. I knew from the depths of the novel that Seraphina's faith lay firmly in the Iron Serpent, Thalador. Perhaps I was simply nitpicking, but something about Seraphina's actions had set my internal alarm bells ringing.

Well, what's a bit of late-night snooping among friends?

"And what of Alicia's father?"

A puzzled look adorned Marie's face, her brow furrowing in consternation.

"Milady, were you privy to some knowledge when you tasked me with investigating Alicia's father?" she inquired.

Ah, so she had uncovered something after all.

"I was indeed. And what did you uncover?" I responded.

"It's just that... I observed him conversing with some rather... unsavoury characters," Marie began, her voice hesitant. "They were dressed in tattered rags, yet their imposing stature belied their beggarly appearance."

"And what was the nature of their discourse?" I pressed.

"I'm afraid I couldn't discern much," Marie confessed. "Their conversation was muffled, but I did catch snippets related to 'debt'."

I let out a weary sigh, my mind already piecing together the fragments of information. "Anything else?"

"Just this, Milady," Marie continued, her voice trailing off slightly. "John Bennett, he... he seemed to harbour quite strong feelings toward the nobility. I overheard him lamenting to his companions about how every woe he faced stemmed from those of noble birth. It was relatively mild, but noteworthy nonetheless."

"You've done admirably, Marie," I commended her, though a sense of frustration gnawed at me. "If only we knew more about these shadowy figures."

"They're a cautious bunch, Milady," Marie replied. "Their eyes were ever watchful, and I even caught glimpses of weapons concealed beneath their ragged attire. Approaching them directly would have posed a considerable risk."

"Even lingering around them might have been dangerous. Leave them be, Marie. I believe I have gleaned sufficient information," I instructed.

Marie then withdrew a pouch from her pocket, its contents emitting a soft clinking sound as it moved.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "What's this for?" I inquired, eyeing the pouch warily.

Marie's expression mirrored my own confusion. "What do you mean, Milady? These funds were intended for the mission you entrusted to me. I used a portion to acquire information, but the remainder rightfully belongs to you."

Ah, my dear, silly Marie.

With a sigh, I pushed the pouch back toward her. "The remainder was meant to be your reward for successfully completing your mission," I clarified.

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "B-But it's far too much, Milady. It's like a year's worth of income for someone like me!"

"So what if it is?" I retorted, shaking my head. "You deserve every bit of it."

"B-But..." Marie stammered, clearly overwhelmed.

"No 'buts'," I interjected. "It's entirely up to you what you choose to do with it. However, I recall you mentioning a gown design that had caught your eye in the wealthier districts. You spoke of its gracefulness and intricate detailing..."

Marie's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment, her gaze dropping to the floor in bashfulness.

"Milady, I didn't expect you to remember that..." Marie murmured.

"Oh, don't act so surprised. I'm not completely clueless, you know," I drawled. "I knew how much you adored it. Go on, treat yourself to one."

"I was merely momentarily enamoured by it, Milady. Besides, I have no need for such a gown. I wouldn't have any occasion to wear it," Marie scoffed, attempting to maintain her facade of indifference.

Ah, she just needed a gentle nudge in the right direction.

"Well, you may not have an occasion at present, but soon enough you will. Who else would accompany me to the Royal Academy?" I pointed out, watching with delight as Marie's facade began to crack, her jaw dropping comically.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"Don't fret too much," I reassured her, seizing the pouch and thrusting it back into her pocket before ushering her toward the door. "I'm a mage now, my authority in this household has skyrocketed compared to before. If I were to demand Father allow you to accompany me, he would comply without hesitation."

"I-" Marie began, her words faltering as I pushed her out of my room, a grin tugging at my lips.

"Now off you go, back into the county. Treat yourself to not one, but two of those gowns. I want the prettiest maid in the entire capital!"

Marie's head seemed to be spinning like a top by this point, but I pressed on.

"Remember, once we're there, you might just have the chance to rub elbows with your beloved Lady Constance, the one you've raved about endlessly. Or perhaps even Lady Ariana!" I said.

A sparkle ignited in Marie's gaze at the mention of her favourite noble ladies.

"And who knows," I added with a grin, "you might even have the delightful opportunity to... eavesdrop on them in person!"

Marie visibly shivered with raw delight, a reaction akin to the way I feel when I think of giving someone a good stab with a knife. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned the eavesdropping part. I might have been awakening something within Marie. Something that I couldn't quite discern whether it was good or bad.

Marie drifted away, lost in her daydreams. I couldn't help but hope she wouldn't blow everything on gowns. But Marie was sensible, responsible even. I trusted her to exercise some restraint and set aside a bit for the future.

Turning my gaze back to the window, I saw the sun sinking below the horizon.

As I stood by the window, a flood of snippets about Alicia's backstory filled my mind. An orphan in the novel, Alicia harboured a fiery hatred for her father. Merely mentioning his name risked one's very existence, for Alicia possessed a temper that could scorch the very earth. Literally.

Throughout the story, Alicia remained tight-lipped about her father. Yet subtle hints were dropped regarding her disdain for him.

Something didn't quite add up, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than met the eye.

Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to bask in the gentle embrace of the setting sun. Its soft orange glow. A hue most warm.

Night, ahh my beloved night, would soon descend upon the land. Enveloping everything in the embrace of darkness.

It appeared that the time had come for me to venture forth and get more information on these 'shady people' Marie had mentioned.