The morning sun crept slowly across the curtains, its pale gold spilling into the room in uneven beams. Dust drifted lazily within the light, scattering into the cool air of Ashenford Castle. On the bed, a small figure stirred.
Eryn rubbed at her eyes, her silver hair messy and soft against the pillow. She sat upright, blinking at the sunlit chamber. A curious feeling settled in her chest—light, almost restless. Anticipation.
Knock. Knock.
"Lady Eryn, are you awake?"
It was Lia's voice. The door opened a crack, and the pink-haired maid peered in. Behind her stood two others—Tia, with brown hair and eyes, and Hana, with black hair and striking green pupils. Both bowed slightly as they stepped inside, their presence graceful yet careful.
Eryn's gaze lingered on them for a moment. The names had almost slipped her, but memory stirred, catching them before they fell. Tia and Hana—Lia's close companions, steady hands in the household.
She understood their purpose at once.
"...To help me prepare?" Eryn asked softly.
The three exchanged faint smiles. Lia nodded. "Yes, Lady Eryn."
The morning passed in a quiet ritual—washing, combing, dressing. The fabric of her gown was cool against her skin, the brush drawing smooth lines through her silver hair. Each gesture was gentle, almost reverent.
When at last she stepped into the corridor, the stone floor was cool beneath her slippers, the air faintly touched by the scent of bread drifting from the kitchens. She walked with measured steps until she reached the dining hall.
Inside, the long table gleamed in the light of chandeliers. Only two figures were seated.
Leon sat at the head, his presence calm yet immovable, as though the air itself bent to his will. Sally was beside him, crimson eyes half-lidded, her posture as composed as if carved from marble.
Alfred's seat was empty.
Eryn's gaze flickered briefly to it before she recalled. Sword training. Alfred had been devoting more hours to Leon's lessons—each swing echoing in the courtyard even late into the evening.
"Eryn, sit here," Leon said. His tone was firm, but the faint curve of his lips softened it. He pointed to the chair beside him.
She obeyed, slipping quietly into the seat.
Servants entered bearing trays. The fragrance of warm bread and tea filled the chamber, mingled with the faint sweetness of cookies. Bowls of milk steamed faintly, thin ribbons of heat rising against the cold northern air.
Leon placed a cup of milk and a small plate before Eryn himself. His movements were steady, practiced—an action that carried neither indulgence nor strictness, only care.
Eryn ate in silence, savoring the simple flavors. The bread was crisp at the edges, soft at the center, the milk faintly sweet. The taste still felt foreign compared to her other life, yet she had grown to appreciate its warmth.
Sally's voice cut softly across the table.
"Eryn. If there is something you desire, speak. Tell me your wish, and I will see it fulfilled."
The words landed heavily, carrying weight beyond their gentle tone. Eryn's small fingers tightened briefly against the bread.
A wish.
Her heart thudded once, sudden and strong.
She lifted her head, crimson eyes shining faintly beneath the morning light. "I… I want to learn words. And… I want to become a magician. Like you."
The silence that followed was brief yet sharp, pressing against her chest. She half-expected refusal, a gentle smile hiding rejection.
But Sally's lips curved. "How about this," she said. "I will teach you letters, and the foundation of magic. After that, you will continue alone. True joy lies in discovery—reading, experimenting, creating. That is what makes a mage."
Eryn's lips parted. Relief washed through her, tinged with joy that prickled behind her eyes.
"I… I'll do it," she whispered quickly, almost afraid the moment would slip away.
Leon glanced at her, his gaze thoughtful, unreadable. A faint smile traced his features, but there was something else in his eyes. Something she could not yet understand.
---
That day began her lessons.
Two hours each session—sometimes afternoon, sometimes evening, sometimes under the stars. Sally's summons always came by Hana's hand.
The progress was steady, faster than she had imagined. Letters that once seemed only marks on a page began to weave into words, and words into meaning. By the end of two weeks, she could read without hesitation, her voice steady and clear.
That evening, she stood at the door of Sally's study.
The scratch of a quill came from within, steady and swift. Sally's crimson eyes lifted as Eryn entered, and her lips curved faintly.
"To be honest, I am surprised. Even if Alfred had shown you basics before, to reach this level in two weeks…" Her smile deepened, touched with admiration. "You are a genius. At this rate, you may surpass me sooner than expected."
Eryn lowered her gaze, cheeks warm. "It's nothing… my memory is just good."
"Good memory is a gift," Sally replied evenly. "And one you should not dismiss. Since you have mastered letters, we will begin magic. Come. The training ground."
Her heart leapt, anticipation sparking like a current beneath her skin.
Sally chuckled softly, rising from her chair. "Not bad. You look just as eager as I did when I first learned." She extended her hand. Eryn hesitated only a moment before taking it.
Together, they stepped into the night.
---
The training ground lay behind the castle. Its stone tiles gleamed faintly under the moonlight, encircled by walls etched with runes. They pulsed with a soft glow, a barrier woven to contain what was dangerous, to guard against what was unseen.
Eryn stood at the center. The silence pressed close. Sally released her hand and faced her, her crimson gaze calm yet sharp.
"Before you may cast, you must first feel mana. It exists everywhere—air, earth, living beings. Most of all, within yourself. If you cannot sense it, you cannot control it."
Eryn nodded, her throat dry.
"Close your eyes. Breathe. Do not force. Mana is like a river. To feel it, you must let it flow, not chase it."
She obeyed.
At first—nothing. Only the cool breath of wind against her cheeks, the faint rustle of leaves beyond the wall. Her heart raced, each beat echoing in her ears.
Then—faint. Almost imperceptible.
Like the hum of a string plucked far away. A warmth stirring in her chest. Gentle. Alive.
Her breath caught. "I… I feel something."
Sally's lips curved. "Good. That is mana. But once is not enough. You must call it, guide it."
Her voice grew firmer. "Magic follows structure. Beginners learn through chant. Fireball, Waterball, Wind Slash. Without chants, spells are unstable. Dangerous. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Eryn said softly.
But within her chest, the system stirred.
Ding.
"Correction. Host does not require chants. Visualization is sufficient. Mana efficiency: 312% above standard."
Her breath faltered. Her crimson eyes snapped open, startled, but Sally had not noticed.
"Your first spell will be Waterball," Sally continued. She raised her hand, a perfect sphere of water forming in the air. "Repeat after me. Aqua. Imagine the water, nothing else."
Eryn raised her hand. Her pulse thundered.
"Aqua."
The word left her lips, but it was not the chant that answered. It was her vision. The image of water, smooth and round like glass.
And the water formed.
Not a trembling drop. Not the unstable wobble of a novice.
A flawless orb, spinning, the size of her head. Droplets shimmered like crystal shards beneath the moonlight.
Sally froze. Her eyes narrowed faintly, the calm in them edged with astonishment.
"…Eryn," she said slowly. "Did you mean to make it this large?"
Eryn blinked. "I just… thought it should be round. Clear."
The orb wavered, her focus slipping. A breath later, it burst. Water splashed across the tiles, glimmering briefly before vanishing.
A sudden wave of weakness struck her. Her knees buckled.
"Careful." Sally's hand caught her, firm at her shoulders. Her sigh carried quiet relief. "Mana fatigue. When you draw more than your body allows, exhaustion strikes. In excess, it can kill. Remember that."
Eryn swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling. "So… too much?"
"You lost control of the flow," Sally corrected gently. "But do not despair. To wield such power as a beginner is proof of potential. Learn restraint, and you will surpass all expectations."
Warmth bloomed within her chest despite the trembling of her limbs.
Ding.
"Host has unlocked Chantless Casting. Mana may be shaped through imagination alone."
Sally bent and lifted her into her arms. The motion was firm yet careful, as though she weighed nothing at all.
"Enough for today," she said softly. "Rest. Tomorrow we begin again."
The courtyard faded behind them. The glow of the runes dimmed as the doors shut.
And even as weariness pulled at her, Eryn's lips curved faintly.
Tonight, she had touched mana. Tomorrow, she would wield it.