It happened again.
Illeuid was just minding his own business, walking towards nowhere at all. The strangeness of his skills may have made waves amongst the Veilkerhurst residence. But he was not yet given a mission or important task to oversee. He knew that his mother was watching his movements more closely, Brakus would not even deign to look at him and father had assigned more servants to monitor him. Yet, still he was left to his own devices.
Illeuid had never forgotten the weird encounter with his sister all those weeks ago. It was usual for her to sneer whenever her eyes would be tainted with his presence. However, she stared at him, gobsmacked. A look so stupid that Illeuid was surprised that it could even cross her face.
Priscilla could not believe that she was seeing that weird illusion again. Just what was she seeing? Were all of her late nights causing her to finally crack? The small glowing square seemed to have grown slightly bigger than the last time. Once again, there was a miniscule image in the corner. Only, it had brightened and was struggling to gain more focus.
She was not going to wait for it to come into fruition. Her hand whipped out, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she brought her face close to his.
"Just what is your game, you brat!" She hissed at him. She twisted the appendage, forcing the younger boy to get closer to her person so that he could lessen the pain.
Illeuid tried to rear back away from her, wiggling his shoulder to loosen her grip. She retaliated by squeezing harder. He could feel his collar bone bend from the strain.
"I'm not doing anything!" He grumbled back at her. He continued to pull away from her. He really did not do anything this time. Or honestly, any other lifetime. He never asked to exist in this world. If he had the choice, he would rather die and never come back. He did not even want to go back to his family anymore. He had long since given up on that dream being realized. He would just be happy to never come back to this torture fest if he had anything to say about it.
"Since you like to play games," she growl at him, already dragging him in the direction of her lab, "I'll make sure that you get to enjoy one that is explosive."
She was still annoyed that she had somehow took a sleeping pill instead of her energy potions or stimulant pills. Precious hours had been wasted to her sleeping. Hours she could have used to make more of her regular poisons or potions for the family. This was why she should not have gone against the status quo with those useless experiments. What she did not want to admit was that she had still been shakened by what she had witnessed in the youngest's room. She had looked through their records, their libraries, and even sent out her own servants to collect information.
There was no record of the kind of illusion magic that the youngest was able to invoke.
Now, she was being subjected to the stupid image again. Only, this time the image and words were more clear compared to before. She was definitely certain that the image was of her. The miniature image flickered into clarity for a split second before dissipating into a blur of jagged irregular miniature square of colors. It was like an artist's technique where they made up an image with many dots. Only the small shapes moved and refused to take the proper form. Her eyes had been able to read more words than before.
She was able to read her name, age, and height. Seeing all of that information made her skin crawl. It did not help that all of the information that was displayed on it was accurate. There was no other reason that the youngest needed such details, unless he intended to use that information to poison her. The very thought that this pustule planned to kill her infuriated her. She would not allow a novice to kill her. There was no other choice. She had to neutralize him first. In her haste to force him into her lab, she realized that she looked too panicked. She saw it in how the servants stared at her. Not blatantly. But more than one servant had glanced at her repeatedly over their shoulder before hurrying away. Most likely to report her outburst to her father.
She was not going to have this pest ruin her reputation.
She had spent years building it up, making sure that it presented her as the calm, rational daughter of the Veilkerhurst family. As being the only daughter of the head of the Veilkerhurst was not enough. She did not lose her temper. She did not make a show of herself. She was always collected, always equipped with the right potions regardless of whatever situation she found herself in. She could easily get rid of her annoyance of a brother without much struggle. That is, f only she could get him to move.
Priscilla cursed as she found herself unable to move the youngest any further. Somehow, he had managed to make his body sturdy enough that it could not be budged. It felt like she was trying to pull a building. The two remained trapped in a game of tug and war. That was until the youngest's arm gave way. And not in the way that was expected.
She felt that something was wrong. She had dislocated an arm before. It would be foolish to not learn any self defense when one was part of the Veilkerhurst family. The youngest's arm had loosen out of its socket in an unnatural way. It slipped too easily out of place. She saw how it fell out of its place, the way it laid under the skin. It was like there was no longer any muscle or ligament available to even hold it up. Just a gap between flesh and bone. She must have loosened her grip in her shock, because the youngest was able rip his arm out of her grip. He grabbed his arm and popped it back into place. As he did so, it was like all of the missing pieces reappeared. The flesh filled out the way it was suppose to.
Glaring at her balefully, Illeuid stuck out his tongue before stalking off back to his room. He went as far as to place his thumb on the tip of his nose while he wiggled his fingers. What did that even mean? She recognized it as a gesture of disrespect, but she had never seen it before. Before Illeuid turned the corner, he blew out a more vocal raspberry. She blinked as his elongated and more swollen tongue was the last thing to disappear.
That was it! She was getting to the bottom of the youngest's mischief.