I see her again. Her. Rena.
Not watching from the corners or walking beside me like before. But inside, within. Her memories are layered under mine. Mine are soaked with hers. We've become indistinguishable. Thoughts echo twice. Feelings are mirrored. Two girls. One soul. A strange kind of unity. Terrifying and comforting at the same time.
We are one…. We are one. I know you just as you know me. It's strange because this is my first time meeting you Rena.
The stream gurgles quietly beside me. I'm alone now.I rise to my feet and follow the water downstream, letting it guide me through the trees. At first, everything is familiar. Safe. The forest is soft and green, dappled in golden light. But the deeper I walk, the darker it becomes. The trees start to shift.
Branches stretch unnaturally, leaves whisper in languages I can't understand. The ground beneath my feet warps slightly with each step—tilting, twisting—like the dream is alive. Watching. I turn around.
In the distance, I see the cabin, warm and gentle. The stream sparkles like silver ribbon. Home. Safety. I should go back. I want to go back. But when I turn to run… I don't move forward. I move backward. Faster. Faster. The trees whip past me, their shadows stretching long and sharp. I'm running but going nowhere—until I'm let go. I break through something unseen and stumble into a blinding light. The world is colorless and infinite. Just a wide, open white void. And in the middle of it stands a tree. It's unlike anything I've ever seen.
It's mesmerizing. So inviting that it's scary.
The trunk is smooth and glowing, almost like the crystal from my father's awakening chamber—only larger, more alive. The leaves shimmer in impossible hues: golds, deep blues, vibrant greens, glowing reds. The branches catch the light like glass, refracting color in every direction.
It is beautiful. A beautiful crystal gem tree.
My body urges me to run, but something stronger compels me forward. I walk, even as pressure builds inside me—like my bones are resonating with the tree's presence. The closer I get, the larger the tree becomes. It expands, shifting, growing with each step—stretching into the sky, its roots twisting into the ground like veins. It feels like time bends here.
The light intensifies. My breath catches.
My mind whispers: This is the source. This is where everything begins… or ends.
I finally reached the tree. Up close, it is impossibly massive—its trunk as wide as two towering buildings pressed together, and its height… limitless. It disappears into the clouds above, like it's trying to pierce the heavens themselves. I feel like an ant at its roots. As I circle one of the enormous roots, I notice something strange. A door.
It's embedded into the base of the tree, carved with the same crystalline texture as the trunk, glowing softly with veins of light pulsing through it like a heartbeat. Without hesitation—maybe because this is a dream—I reach for the handle and push it open. Inside is a staircase, curling like a serpent upward into shadows. Each step is made of the same shimmering crystal, humming gently under my feet. I place one hand on the wall to balance myself and begin the climb.
The journey feels endless. Up and up I go. There's no beginning anymore. No end. Just the quiet sound of my steps and the constant swirl of dreams behind my eyelids. Eventually, I passed a small window carved into the wall. Curious, I peek out.
I'm so high up that I can now see the outer branches—thick, twisting limbs that span across the sky like bridges. Nestled in one of them is a massive gem, almost the size of a pumpkin. Its surface shimmers with an internal light.
Inside the gem… something moves. A blurry image or video plays, though I can't quite tell what it is. It shifts like smoke underwater. Faces. Places. Maybe memories. Maybe not.
I blink and look away, unnerved. I continue upward. Another window.
This time, the view has changed. The branches are more numerous—thicker, more entangled. A small forest in the sky. Scattered among them are more gems. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Each one plays something different.
Some glow brighter than others. Some are dull. Some are no larger than an apple. Others tower like lanterns. None of them are clear—every vision blurs just before I can understand it.
I poke my head out, daring to glance downward. My stomach flips. The height is dizzying, and the ground is a hazy blur far below. I pull back in and look up again. Even more gems hover above me. Countless. Infinite. Each one flickering, glowing, shifting. Each one hiding. Eventually, I took a seat on the stairs.
My legs ache, and my lungs feel full of something thick and humming—like I've been walking through magic itself. The crystal under me is warm, the way sunlight feels when it kisses your skin through the trees. A steady vibration pulses beneath me, as if the tree is alive... breathing... watching.
The longer I sit, the more I feel it. Energy. Living energy—radiating up through the stairs, into my bones, my veins. It soothes me and stirs something all at once. But I don't stop for long.
I push forward, the endless staircase spiraling ever upward until another window appears. This time, I didn't look down. I look up—searching, hoping to glimpse the top of this divine thing.
I was wrong to expect one.
There is no end. Just more branches stretching infinitely above, more glowing gems, each one caught in the knots and cradles of this celestial tree. The sky doesn't even feel like the sky anymore. It is the tree.
Then—something catches my eye. A single gem… glowing brighter than the rest. It hovers high above on a branch that extends like a bridge into open space. Its glow is mesmerizing—deep royal purple wrapped in shimmers of green and gold. It pulses. It calls. I lean out the window to get a better look, instinctively checking if I can crawl through it.
My hands freeze on the sill. I hesitate. Falling from this height… there's no telling what would happen. Even in a dream. But then I notice the branch—thick, sturdy, and wide enough to walk across if I'm careful. It stretches out and curves upward… straight toward the gem. Tempting.
I made my choice. I climb through the window slowly, carefully—legs first, then easing my weight through until I'm crouched on the branch like a cat. The wind rushes gently past my face. Below, the world is a void of clouds and colored lights. I gulp, steadying myself.
One foot in front of the other. The branch sways subtly, as if testing me. I shift my weight forward, creeping toward the gem, keeping my balance as best I can. And there it is.
The gem hovers just overhead now—glowing, humming, spinning slightly. I reach up. Too high.I stretch, stumble, nearly slip—but catch myself. Again, I reach. My fingers graze its smooth surface. Wiggle. It moves.
I reach again, heart racing. Wiggle. Snap. The gem breaks loose from its hold.
Time slows.
I lunge, try to catch it—but instinct pulls me back. Not at the cost of falling. It slips past my fingers and disappears below. My breath catches. I brace for the sound of it shattering—imagining glass, crystal, magic exploding into pieces. But I don't hear that.
Instead...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water.
Long silence. Then again—drip. I lean forward, trying to see where it landed, but the branches below are too thick. There's no clear path. The tree hides its secrets well. I brace myself to return to the window. But something's wrong.
The branch beneath my feet quivers—shudders. Then all at once, the tree begins to shift. The branches creak and twist, spiraling and folding in impossible ways. All around me, the gems tremble in their cradles. A soft chiming sound fills the air—like distant bells in a windstorm. Higher-pitched ones tinkle like laughter, while deeper ones echo like warning drums.
I turn, trying to retrace my steps, but the path is gone.The window is gone. The branch beneath my feet jerks. I lose my balance.
I scream. Loud high pitched full of terror. My chest slowly caves in, ready for the harsh impact.
My body falls—branches cracking and snapping against my arms, my sides, my legs. Yet leaving no scars. I tumble past thousands of glowing gems. One grazes my cheek as I fall. I see something inside.
Images—more defined than before. Faces. Places. Magic. A battlefield? A tower? A stage? A hospital? But everything's still too blurred to understand. I fall faster. More branches. More gems. Everything becomes color and sound. And just before I hit the ground—
I woke up. Gasping. My body jerks as I sit up, sweat clinging to my skin. My breath is shallow, and everything aches. A soft clinking pulls my attention toward the door. A maid enters, quietly carrying a tray. Steam rises from a small bowl and a ceramic cup. She walks with grace, her expression composed and calm. She glances over and smiles gently. "I see you're still running a fever," she says, setting the tray down on the desk beside the bed.
Her fingers are cool against my forehead. I sigh at the contrast.
"What time is it?" I ask, my voice raspy, dry like paper. I notice then—my father is gone.
"It's a new day," she replies, pouring something from the cup into a small spoon. "You slept through the rest of yesterday."
I've been asleep for a day? What was that all about? And did we really fuse? What was that tree? Those gems? And where did that gem disappear too?
"Also, inform you Princess. The Duke has ordered your bed rest until you're better" She bowed. "Shall I ring for a light meal"
"Bed rest?" I rolled my eyes, expecting to get straight to training. It would give me more time to relax my thoughts. "A light meal would be nice, thank you." I voiced, the maid left.
The gentle knock at my door was followed by the sound of soft footsteps. The same maid entered, balancing a tray with a bowl of soup, a few crackers, and a small teapot. Her smile widened when our eyes met.
"We really do need to break this fever," she murmured, setting the tray on my nightstand. Her hand pressed lightly to my forehead again, cool against my burning skin.
"Hopefully it breaks soon," I muttered, my head pounding like a steady drum. I dipped my spoon into the soup, testing its warmth before taking a slow sip. "What's your name?"
Her eyes brightened. "My name is Mary, princess."
"Thank you, Mary."
For a fleeting moment, something passed over her face — a shadow of sadness, a distant memory surfacing. But she quickly replaced it with that same kind smile. "No worries, princess. It is truly my pleasure." She bowed gently.
I studied her — she looked young, maybe thirty-five at most, with short black hair neatly tucked behind her ears and eyes as blue as a clear winter sky.
"Do you wish for me to stay by your side, princess?" she asked sweetly.
Is she talking about watching me sleep?...There is no need for that hassle.
I blinked, unsure what she meant. "No, that won't be necessary. I'm not even sure what that means," I admitted, raising a brow.
She chuckled softly, her tone light. "It means if you want me to stay — just in case you need something."
"Oh," I said, half laughing. "Well, you don't have to do that. I'm a little more independent than you think."
Mary's smile softened into something blissful and knowing. "Yes, I believe that. But try not to push yourself too hard, princess. You have servants for a reason."
"Thank you again, Mary. I'll ring if I need anything, right?"
"Yes, princess," she said, bowing one last time before quietly leaving the room.
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with the soft glow of afternoon light and the faint scent of herbs from the soup. I stared at the tray for a long moment after Mary left, listening to the faint echo of her footsteps fade down the hall. The aroma of the soup filled the room — warm, light, and comforting. I picked up the spoon and took another sip. The broth was simple but rich, the flavors gentle on my aching throat.
"Mmm," I hummed softly, surprised. "This is actually really good."
Each bite warmed me from the inside out, melting the dull ache behind my eyes. My fever still lingered, but for the first time all day, I felt a sliver of peace.
As I ate, my thoughts drifted — tangled, restless.
What is the best way for us to live this life? I wondered, staring at the steam rising from the bowl.
That strange forest flashed in my mind — the sharp crystals, the pulsing energy, and that tree that felt both alive and ancient.
What was that tree? Will I see it again? And what happened to that gem? Did it really fall into the water... or was that all in my head?
But the thought that came next made my stomach tighten.
What would Dad's reaction be if he knew I possessed Rena — his daughter?...
The spoon paused halfway to my mouth. My heart gave a faint, painful throb.
Would he still accept me? Or would he see me as an imposter — someone who stole her life before she even had the chance to live it? Would he call me a monster? Would I lose another father all over again?
I swallowed hard, but the food suddenly felt heavier in my throat.
I'm afraid of him finding out….
It was a quiet, trembling truth. I've only just started to know him. And somehow… I've already taken on the role of the daddy's girl. How did that even happen?
A small, sad smile curved my lips.
But it doesn't matter, does it? He deserves to know. Even if it terrifies me. Even if he rejects me.
I set the empty bowl aside and curled beneath the blanket, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all pressed against my chest.
I'm not ready to lose another father.
As soon as the fear of my father's rejection weighed heavily in my chest, the door creaked open — almost as if on cue.
"I came to check on your fever," he said, stepping inside. His voice was steady, composed, but there was a tremor of concern hiding beneath it. "Mary told me she brought you something. It's nice to see you eating after waking up."
I blinked up at him from the bed, caught off guard by the warmth in his tone. "I'm fine," I murmured, setting the bowl aside. "I didn't expect to be bedridden just for trying to activate my mana."
He gave a faint, knowing smile and sat at the edge of the bed, his posture graceful yet weary. "Well, actually," he began, "every mage gains a fever after their awakening. It's the body adjusting to its new flow of energy. It often takes the average person about four months to fully recover. Others longer — depending on the potency of their mana."
"Four months?" I repeated, appalled. "I'll miss my chance to get into Acreon. Being bedridden for four months is so not fair." I paused, then tilted my head curiously. "How long did it take you?"
Is he lying?.... How long did mom say it took again?.... Wait! No mana…. She never experienced it before…. Did she ever explain the process though….?
He looked faintly amused as his eyes drifted upward, as if searching through the haze of memory. "I believe... about a month?" he said at last, though it came out sounding like a question.
My brows furrowed. "Is that normal?"
He gave a soft laugh — one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No," he said grimly, "not at all."
The air between us grew quiet for a moment. I could see the shadow behind his smile — something unspoken. Something about power and cost
"Originally," he began, his tone quiet and steady, "I wasn't meant to inherit the dukedom. It was supposed to go to my uncle — my father's youngest brother. He had close ties with the royal family, and many in our bloodline believed that would prove useful. Having the royals in their back pocket… that was the dream."
He paused, eyes distant, the faintest flicker of bitterness crossing his features.
"But—" I prompted softly, sensing there was more.
He inhaled deeply, the lines around his mouth tightening. "There was a highly respected family member of ours who spoke up — she said that I should inherit the title instead. That I had more potential, more intelligence… that it was time our family stopped depending on royal favor and learned to stand on its own."
He gave a small, mirthless laugh. "That didn't go well with the others. I was only eleven at the time. They didn't agree with her, and soon their anger began to… shift. They needed someone to direct it at. And that someone became me."
His voice grew darker, roughened by the memory.
I felt my stomach twist. "Their demons who had attacked you?" I whispered, horrified. "To harm and bully a child… that's evil. How can anyone think to do that to an innocent child."
His gaze met mine — steady, calm, but heavy with something buried deep. "Yes," he said simply. "Evil. But power and envy often are."
Silence filled the room again. I could see the ghosts of that boy still flickering behind his eyes — the fear, the betrayal, the pain.
Then, just as suddenly, he exhaled and straightened, his tone returning to its usual warmth. "I'm going off topic," he said lightly, almost apologetically, brushing away the memory with practiced grace.
He looked at me, his expression shifting — serious now, but also deeply worried.
"You see the marks under my eyes?" he asked quietly.
"Your freckles? Yes." I leaned closer, studying his face more carefully. The gray freckles formed an upside-down triangle under each eye, with dotted lines extending down his cheeks — faint, but distinct.
"Yes," he murmured, "but normal freckles aren't colored like ours."
He paused, his thumb brushing over one of mine as if drawing attention to it. "Discoloration in the eyes or skin is called a mutation. A mutation occurs when someone carries an overabundance of mana — so much that it can cause poisoning which is the same as a death wish… or even an explosion capable of killing those nearby."
My breath caught. "So… it's dangerous to be born with one?"
He nodded slowly. "Mutations are born, Rena. You come out of the womb with mixed-colored eyes, discolored skin, or marks like ours. And people—" his jaw tightened, "—people call you a monster, a freak. Something that is viewed to be unnatural and dangerous."
He lifted both hands to my face, cupping my cheeks gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his gaze. I could see the fear in his eyes — fear not of me, but for me.
He's telling me this because he must have faced this. Feared and tortured by his own family, for what greed to get close to the royals.
"When I saw your freckles, I knew you were blessed with mana. I just didn't realize how powerful — or dangerous — that blessing could be." His voice trembled with restrained emotion. "Those born with mutations are hated and feared, Rena. They're often forced into submission… controlled… or killed outright."
His thumbs traced over my cheeks, and his voice dropped to a whisper, almost breaking. "And though people will envy your power, they'll still call you unattractive — cursed, unnatural. Especially since you're another Nowrk with a mutation. Many hate the power and influence that are family has. our family is known to produce majority of people born with mutations even how uncommon it is."
Nowrk's are known to give birth to children blessed with mana. Strong powerful beings, if I was the royals I would befriend them or stay clear. Not only that, they think we're unattractive? They need to take a closer look at my dad. He has the face of a high value wealthy man ... .which he is.. . I see why mom fell for him.
He let the words linger, heavy between us — fear, love, and helplessness mixing all at once.
"I'll keep that in mind," I whispered, my voice quieter than I intended.
He sighed, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "No, you won't. You're hard-headed… just like your mother."
That small glint of humor faded as his expression softened into something more fragile — concern, love, and fear all tangled together. "So let me know if you need anything. If or when you need me," he said, his voice turning earnest, almost pleading. "I'll always be here."
My heart swelled painfully — warmth and guilt twisting together in my chest. Even though Rena had accepted me, even though her spirit lingered in peace, he didn't know. He didn't know that his daughter wasn't the one looking back at him now. That thought hit harder than I was ready for.
He'll hate me…?
"Hard-headed is a stretch," I joked weakly, trying to lighten the weight in the room.
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.
"But I understand," I added softly, my throat tightening. "Thank you… I really mean it. It's nice to have a family again."
My voice cracked, and before I could hide it, tears welled in my eyes — quiet, grateful tears that carried both Rena's love and my own.
"I agree," he murmured, pulling me into his chest. The embrace was warm, steady — the kind of hug that made the world outside his arms feel distant and small. "And there's no need for thanks," he added softly. "I'm the one who should be thankful for you."
My throat tightened. I wanted to say something, but the lump in my chest refused to let words out.
I have to tell him before too much time passes. Before the attachment becomes too strong.
"You still feel pretty hot," he muttered, brushing a hand against my forehead before pressing a kiss there. "You need more rest. Oh — and you're not starting your tutoring until you're fully healed."
My face fell into a pout. "That won't work."
He laughed, shaking his head as he stepped toward the door. "Nice try." And with that, he slipped out, the sound of the latch clicking shut behind him.
That's not fair. I can't learn how to weld my powers until my fever is broken. Do I really have to wait four months? How did dad recover so fast? he probably fought through it.
I rolled my eyes. "I feel fine," I muttered to no one. Flipping the covers off, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped my feet into the soft slippers waiting nearby. I'll just go for a walk, I told myself. Fresh air can't hurt.
The moment I stood, though, it felt like a boulder had been dropped on my head. My body swayed. I blinked the dizziness away, stubbornly moving toward the door. The long hallway outside greeted me with its soft light and endless windows.
Outside, gardeners worked among the hedges — trimming, planting, humming softly. An earth mage stood by a half-built stone arch, guiding slabs into place with careful, fluid motions. The sight made me pause. Magic looks so… otherworldly, I thought, mesmerized.
Then the throbbing started. Sharp, pulsing pain behind my eyes. I pressed a hand to my forehead, willing it to stop.
"Princess?" a voice called out from down the hall.
I turned weakly, the world blurring around the edges. My other hand reached for the wall, but my knees gave out.
"Princess!" the voice shouted, panicked — and before I hit the ground, strong arms caught me.
"Don't tell Dad," I whispered faintly, tears threatening to spill as exhaustion pulled at me.
"Okay… alright. Yes, Princess," came the concerned reply.
As I tilted my head up, I caught a glimpse of silver hair and worried eyes. Sabatian. Of course.
I knew he'd tell, but I was too tired to care — too tired to run. My body felt heavy, my thoughts fading into fog.
"You have the behavior of both your mother and father," he muttered under his breath as he carried me back to my room. "It's going to be interesting around here."
The cool sheets welcomed me when he laid me down. A damp towel pressed against my forehead, easing the heat. The last thing I heard before sleep pulled me under was the sound of his quiet sigh.
" Joleen, you don't understand your talents. You could change the world, create cures for the diseases that haunt the world." He pleaded through desperation and anger.
"I am tired of living in your shadow dad. I need to find my own thing. I am not as good as you, you did create medicine to cure Alzheimer's. You have too much faith in me." Joleen cries back tears streaming down her face. "And until you understand it's best if you don't….. come around"
With that she stormed out crying, her eyes burning red.
I remember that day. The day my relationship with my dad changed and it was all my fault. I knew he wanted the best for me but after a while I felt pressured and insecure. I cut him off, only to lose him a few years later. My life hasn't felt the same since. Being here around him. Feels like I am once again in the modern world with my father. What would this dream lead to?
For weeks he would call, call, text. She ignored everyone. Days of silent guilt went by as the calls slowly stopped. She would go out on different trips to tropical places. She started doing things she never got the chance to do. She felt free but a guilt would always creep, a loneliness that always stayed.
She soon goes to apply for the bank so that she can have a job closer to her home. Working at the bank was light work compared to the chemistry labs. Hours of research, experimenting all day long in a white cold room. She starts to reminisce about his teachings. How things were when their bond was close.
"I wonder what he would say if he found out I have a simple job. No stress, no expectations. Just clock in… help people get their money and clock out." She said feeling down, guilty, and a bit of shame.
She opens her phone, searches for his number and calls. He picks up the first ring.
"Joleen sweetie… Joe I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you…." He paused. " No… I just wanted to keep you close. For me and for your mother. I promise to protect you. Yet I only hurt you. I am beyond sorry, I was just afraid of losing you too." His voice breaks. Sounds of sobbing slipped through the phone.
"No, I am sorry. I…I was just a little bitter because it felt like I had no identity outside of you. I felt so lost, even though I never showed it, even though I missed your guidance, your love, protection. I just want my daddy back." Joleen matched his sobs as she pleaded for forgiveness. " I'm sorry I ignored you for so long. I wanted to reply…. To answer… my pride just wouldn't let me."
" I've been told I was too over protective. So I mostly assumed you were distant because of that but when you spoke about walking in my shadow. I never compared you to me. I wish you didn't either. Can I have my Joe back? There is so much to tell you."
"Your voice sounds tired, weak even. Are you okay." She asked worriedly.
" I am fine. I am at peace now that we are on speaking terms."
" Rena, it's time to go home now."
Huh? Rena? Who's Rena? Oh! I am. My eyes weakly open as I see my dad sitting in a chair right next to me.
" What's going on?" I asked my voice hoarse and dry.
" Mary came and got me. She said you were crying and calling me in your sleep." He said worried.
Does he know? That I left my room and fainted? After.. I was supposed to sit back and be bedridden.
"Did she? That was nice"
" Was it a bad dream?" His eyes shine with worry.
" I… I am not sure what I had." I cast my gaze down towards my hand.
I glance over at Sabatian he give a small smirk while placing a finger over his lips. A sign that says 'i won't tell'.
So he didn't rat me out to my father. Does he really care about getting on my good side? More or less I am appreciative of the fact that he kept the incident at all. If Dad knew I would probably be more than just a stern talking to.
" I don't want to be trapped in my room all day long" I whined, slapping my arms on the bed in defeat.
"I understand but if you rush things. Move to fast it could prolong you getting better"
So leaving my room yesterday was a no-no. I hope I didn't make the fever worse.
" Give yourself a few weeks before trying to get yourself in trouble." He paused when I raised one of my brows.
A few weeks? Yeah right. And what trouble?
" How about a week? If by the end of this week your fever is broken. You can do as you please without causing your illness to get worse. I would prefer if you fully healed"
I shouldn't complain at all, given the fact that I did pass out yesterday afternoon because I didn't listen. I can get better in a week.
"Okay, a week. Then tutoring to control my mana right? I get to turn on some magic?" I said with raspy joy.
"Huh… no. Even if your fever is broken, your mana is still a bit unstable and your body is still weak. You start using your mana now it would rip you to shreds." He said as a matter of fact.
I pout in disagreement. Before my dad gives his reply we hear a knock at the door.
" You may enter." He said his voice was commanding like a general.
I glance past my dad's broad shoulders to see Mary coming in, her smile bright. Her maid uniform is crisp and clean. She's carrying a tray, with a glass cup that has what seems to be more of Gabriel's medicine that he has me take.
" Sir Gabriel said he had some urgent matters. He voiced that he would be back soon. He also made enough stabilizer for the Miss until he gets back" she said politely with nothing but respect in her voice.
I thought the medicine was a one and done. But if he made more then how long do I have to take it?
" I also brought some more soup. Fresh fruit, a bit of finger sandwiches just in case you have more of an appetite. In a few I'll bring up tea and possibly dessert…" Mary glances at my dad for confirmation. He nods his head in approval.
So I can have sweets but I can't go outside?
"May I have my dessert outside?" I asked dad, giving him my best cutesy face.
He chuckles as he places a peck on my forehead.
"Yes. On your balcony that's right there" he laughed pointing towards my balcony.
Okay it's a big spacious balcony but that's not what I meant.
"Besides your fever still high-"
"But I feel fine." I cut in.
"Just because you think your fine doesn't mean you're not going to faint if you were to get out of bed right now" he stated with a raised brow. I went silent because I did leave my room and I most definitely did faint.
Okay so he might be a little right but I can't say that to his face because I did faint and that could probably have me exposing myself.
Mary came over towards us. She hands dad the tray, "so dessert and tea later Mary?" I pouted in defeat.
"Yes princess, is there any pacific you want?" She replied.
"I am not sure. Maybe something lemony. I'm not an expert on teas so whatever you recommend." I smiled, soon thanking her as she exited.
Sabatian stands tall behind my dad's shoulder straight, very observant and silent. Until he wasn't -
" We all want you to take care of your healthy princess. Your well-being is the most important. No matter how new this is for, we want you to look at this place as home." Sabatian spoke while he bowed.
" Booooo." I pout.
I know Sabatian is not giving me a lecture.
"Was my well-being considered when you got that paternity test?" I challenged myself.
Sabatian body stiffen as my dad turns his head to look at him a slight smirk forming on his lips.
"Well someone's well being was considered, my apologies that it wasn't yours as well." Sabatian bowed deeply apologetic.
" Do I get a chance to explore the mansion if I can't start training?" I asked my eyes still on Sabatian frown.
"Yes, in about a week. If you're better." My dad stated humorously.
" You're no fun." I pouted, folding my arms across my chest.
If he thinks I'm going to be trapped bored out of my life he's wrong. Only I can lock myself away. I will have my freedom.
My dad places the tray on my lap as he chuckles to himself in amusement. He gets up and places his hand on the top of my head. His smile goes soft. When he removes his hand, the spot it previously was is now cold.
"Eat. And if you're still hungry, ask for more. Over all rest and heal. That is the only thing you need to be concerned about." Dad spoke.
I nod my head in agreement. When I get enough strength to move about outside this room, I will. Weak or not.
"Sabatian can you stay behind" I tilted my head past dad's shoulder to see Sabatian's shocked face.
"Ah, you can't get yourself into trouble. You're having Sabatian do your dirty work. Smart." My dad chuckled deep as he walked towards the exiting doors. " However you entertain yourself is up to you, just know Sabatian isn't going to do anything that could put you in a compromising position." He added before closing the door.
" Oh hush. I'm not doing anything of that sort" I yelled back hearing another chuckle from Dad as he headed down the hall.
"You didn't tell?" I asked one brow raised as I took a sip of this stabilizing water.
How am I supposed to know if this is working? I wonder how many times I have to drink it? It's not disgusting but the mineral earthy taste is there.
"No princess you ordered me not to" he replied.
"That's it?" I toss one of those mini finger sandwiches in my mouth.
" I also…. I wanted your grace. Prove myself to you for my impulsive behavior." There's a hint of shame in his voice. You can hear the regret in it.
You wanted forgiveness….
" You have nothing to prove to me about" I plopped another sandwich in my mouth.
The food here is amazing. It's nice to have your own personal chef. Heck, I have our own personal kitchen staff.
"That's what you believe" he chuckles, signaling me to wipe the corner of my mouth.
"Do as you please then. Are there any tools here? I like to craft, or color. Artsy stuff?" I asked, thinking of what I could do.
I'm not much of an arts and crafts person. I'm more into math, chemistry. Rena on the other hand, she's handsy. When you really think about it you have to learn how to build and put things together if you're trapped in a forest all your life.
"Yes, you gave me some art tools. Paint brushes, clays, different paints, pencils, all art equipment or…." He started listening to more art supplies.
"-... Tools, paint, chisels, drizzles. Yes I would like that. Is there a space in here to store some of those things" I asked looking around my room.
This is a huge room, of course there's space.
" Of course," he goes to the far right past the couch and coffee table to a door. He opens it, "this princess is one of your storage closet. We can use this to store all the supplies you need and or want." He smiles.
One of them? He said one of my storage closet?
"Thank you" I said while eating another sandwich.
" No need for thanks, just doing my job." He smiles warmly.
I think that's the first genuine smile he gave. That didn't feel like he was a scammer or slimy. I guess as time goes by I'll get to know him more. As well as Dad and everyone else here.
" So you have a talent for the arts?" He continued as I watched him show me where the other two storage closets were.
" It's a nice hobby. I'm good at sculptures out of wood or stone. I made a few flower bracelets as gifts for Mom back in the day." My voice started to fade off as I thought about her. Mom
Rena was repairing the cabin, her mom taught her too. Mom is the reason why we have any type of talents in the arts, in creating it all we did back in the cabin. There were not many forms of entertainment other than our imaginations. And she had me hone that.
" I see…" Sabatian cast his eyes to the floor. "Your very gifted princess. We must thank lady frey for that."
" You know you don't have to call me princess, Rena will be fine" I voiced changing the subject. He noticed it.
"Do I get a choice?" He asked.
"Yes?"
"Princess it is. I'll return soon with your supplies." He said walking to the door. " I'll be sure to tell Mary to bring more food along with the dessert"
I'm not fighting anyone not to call me princess.
I checked down at the tray when he left, I ate every sandwich that was on the tray. Picking up the stabilizer water I put the glass to my lips finishing the rest. Then I finished the soup, my stomach grumping once I'm done.
More food doesn't sound too bad. I don't remember Rena being this hungry before. I don't even think Rena heard her stomach grumble. Her body probably got so used to the limited food, that my slight over consumption as her body was wondering what's been missing.
Knock knock!
I place my eyes towards the door, " come in" I said watching Mary face show up from behind it.
" I have a slice of lemon cake, lemon tart, and shock rock lemon ice cream princess. As well as tea, I have cream, honey, and sugar cups here. I brought more sandwiches." She cheerfully brought the new tray to me and replaced it with the now empty one.
I don't wait until I get straight into this lemon ice cream before it tries to melt.
Shock rock lemon ice cream. Does that mean it's really sour?
I dig my spoon the top scoop, lifting my spoon up I see clear yellow rock like pieces scattered throughout the ice cream. Taking a bit I creamy tartness coats my tongue and then a sour zap.
It's like someone put electric pop rocks in ice cream, but better. The shock isn't painful at all.
" Do you like princesses?" She smiled pleased.
"It's different yet a bit additive." I replied, enjoying myself.
" It is really popular with children as well as those who have a taste for sour things." She said lifting a finger up. " Mana is used in sour candies and lemon pieces with lightning magic…"
" You can use mana in food?" I was surprised.
"Yes, it falls under similar techniques that's used to make mana tools and such. It's just with food the mana have to be stripped enough so that it doesn't cause poisoning as well as be able to cast the intended spell or act."
This place is getting more interesting. I wonder if we have a chef that can achieve this skill or do we go out to certain restaurants?
"Is there more?" I asked sheepishly looking at the now empty bowl.
" I can bring some more. I'll also let the staff know how much you love the food here." Mary giggled, pouring my cup of tea with slow precise elegance. She adds a splash of cream, two spoonfuls of honey.
Who knew you can make pouring tea look pretty.
I take the cup from her inhaling the creamy sweet aroma.
Tea packets back home didn't taste like this. Who knew tea was this good.
" Thank you Mary" I voiced between sips before I started dinging on the tart.
"Your welcome princess. I'll return with some more ice cream… would you like to try a different flavor? There's bursting blue ice cream, fiery cherry, blossoming orange. There also regular ice cream, plain vanilla, chocolate all the sorts"
I would like to try all of them. But I know I won't be able to get away with eating all that ice cream during my fever. The last thing I need is my dad hovering over my eating habits.
"Uhm, maybe blossoming orange and more of the lemon please." I can always try other flavors another time.
Knock!
Knock!
"Come in." I said before I got a chance to ask about what the two ice cream flavors might taste like.
Bursting blue… is that like gushers? You take a bite and a goozy liquid comes out? Blossoming sounds like a flower. So like a flowery orange taste?
" I have brought a few supplies for you princess. I can bring more tomorrow." Sabatian voices bring in what looks like a whole craft store.
More? This is enough… more than enough.
He starts putting up, organizing the supplies in the storage closet. " Let me know what you want left out, princess." He said still at work.
Mary and I glance at each other, then back at Sabatian still putting the stock away.
" I think some paint. A chessel…. Those things. Can you place them on the table out on the balcony?" I asked, seeing the bright pretty orangeish pink sky through the glass doors.
"Of course princess." Sabatian stated after he finished putting all my arts and crafts tools in the storage closet. "Would you like to work with clay, wood or stones?"
I can honestly use any of them. If we were at the cabin wood for sure. Rena spent her free time sculpting figures and such out of wood. The stone was only hard because the tools weren't good enough to cut through the stone to shape. Clay well, there wasn't any of that….. Wait there was mud.
I watched from the comfort of my bed as Sabatian carried a wooden toolbox onto the balcony table. Inside were chisels, sponges, brushes, drills, modeling knives—each tool gleaming faintly under the orange-pink hue of the setting sun. He moved with quiet precision, placing each item neatly beside a set of paints, then stepping aside to arrange two blocks of wood, two medium-sized stones, and a lump of fresh clay. It was strangely soothing watching him work. The light caught in his hair, the sound of tools clinking faintly against the table mixed with the distant rustle of leaves outside.
"It seems I didn't need to answer," I said with a tired smile, my voice soft but teasing. "You gave me all three."
Sabatian turned slightly, brow raised in that calm, unreadable way of his.
"Thank you, Sabatian. You can harass my dad now." I added, rolling my eyes with a grin.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "As you wish, Princess," he replied smoothly, brushing his hands off before turning toward the door.
The warmth of the sunset poured through the glass doors, reflecting off the table of paints and stones, and for a brief moment, everything felt simple—peaceful, even.
Sabatian smiled wide at my comment before giving a slight bow.
"Well, excuse me, Princess. I'll take my leave. Let me know if you need me to harass you," he said with a teasing smirk.
I laughed under my breath as he exited my room, his light steps fading down the hall.
Mary and I were the only ones left. She turned to me with her usual gentle expression. "I'll take my leave as well, Princess, to fetch your snacks. Would you like me to help you to the balcony?"
I gave her a blank stare that said, you're joking, right?
Her eyes darted away from mine, landing somewhere on the wall behind me as her lips twitched with amusement. "Understood, Princess," she giggled softly. "I'll return shortly with your snacks."
With a graceful bow, she too exited, leaving me alone in my room—the soft glow of sunset spilling through the glass doors, painting the floor in gold and rose.
When Mary left, I chugged the rest of the stabilizer water Gabriel had made for me. The taste was faintly metallic, but it settled the lingering unease in my chest. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sliding my feet into the slippers waiting for me.
Slowly, I pushed myself upright, pausing to see if the room would tilt or if my knees would give out. I stood still for a few minutes, breathing carefully, counting the seconds as my body adjusted.
When I finally took a step, it felt as though someone had poured cement into my legs—heavy, unmoving, punishing. I took a deep breath, resting my hand on my stomach to feel it deflate with my exhale. Another step. Then another. The heat crawled up my neck and flushed across my skin, but I ignored it.
By the time I made it to the balcony, the evening air kissed the sweat along my temples. I sank into the chair at the table, breathing shallowly but victorious.
My eyes trailed across every tool Sabatian had laid out for me—the chisels, brushes, clay, wood, and stone. They looked both inviting and intimidating, like the start of something I wasn't sure I was ready for
"I didn't faint this time," I sang softly to myself, letting the little rush of triumph wash over me. The weight in my legs lingered for a few moments before slowly fading, giving me enough strength to reach for one of the wooden blocks.
I began shaping it into the form of a fox—small, nimble, alert. The rhythmic scrape of the chisel and the soft crack of splintering wood filled the air as I worked. When I paused, I lifted my gaze toward the horizon, where the sky blazed gold and rose, melting into faint streaks of violet. Sunsets here felt richer, almost alive—nothing like the pale ones from the modern world.
The sky in general seems alive.
A knock sounded at the door, light but precise.
"Enter," I called.
Mary slipped in with a bright smile, balancing a tray in her hands. "I brought you the bursting blue ice cream as well as the blossoming orange flavor. And more lemon cake and tarts." Her voice carried that same gentle pride she always wore around me.
"You're very talented, princess," she added as she approached, eyes flicking over the half-carved fox in my hands.
"Thank you," I murmured, setting the chisel down. "I practiced a lot with my mom."
The words came out bittersweet, but still warm with quiet pride. For a moment, the ache of memory and the joy of creation blended together, and I let both linger
Mary lingered beside the table instead of leaving right away, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she glanced out toward the glowing horizon.
"How long have you worked here, Mary?" I asked, curious. Her voice carried the weight of experience, but her face still looked so young—so soft.
She smiled faintly. "Since I was fourteen, princess. My mother worked here before me, and her mother before her. So… I suppose the Nowrk estate has been a part of my family for generations."
"Fourteen?" I echoed, surprised. "That's practically a child."
I didn't get my first official job until I was twenty-three….
Mary chuckled, the sound small and fond. "Perhaps. But the Nowrk's took me in when my mother fell ill. The Duke—your father—made sure I had food, a roof, and schooling. I owe him more than I could ever repay."
I tilted my head slightly, studying her expression. There was no fear or formality there—just genuine affection. "He's kind, isn't he?"
Mary's gaze softened, and a small laugh escaped her lips. "Oh, yes. Though many would argue otherwise."
"How so?" I pressed, curious at the little spark of amusement in her voice.
She lowered her eyes briefly, considering her words. "Your father doesn't hide behind sweet words, princess. He's stern. Blunt. Some take that as cruelty. But he protects this household with everything he has. He's fair, even when fairness is mistaken for coldness."
Her tone held admiration, not just respect. "If you ever see him smile, truly smile… you'll understand. He carries much, but never lets the weight crush anyone else."
I felt my chest tighten a little at her words. "He really is… a good man," I whispered more to myself than to her.
Mary nodded. "The best kind. Quietly so."
She adjusted the tray slightly and smiled. "Now, eat something before your ice cream melts, princess. I'll come check on you later."
As she turned to leave, the evening breeze drifted through the balcony, and for a brief moment, I thought about how strange and comforting it was to be surrounded by people who cared for me—people who were supposed to belong only to Rena's world, now mine too.
Mary gave one last courteous bow before leaving the room, the faint click of the door echoing as silence returned. I exhaled softly, setting the carving knife aside and placing my half-finished fox sculpture on the table. The creature's wooden form still looked a little lopsided, but it had personality—stubbornly charming in its own way.
My eyes wandered to the tray of desserts. The blue and orange ice creams shimmered faintly under the dying light, tiny sparkles flickering across their surface as if alive with mana.
"Alright," I murmured to myself, dragging the tray closer. "Let's see what makes you 'bursting' and 'blossoming.'"
I took a spoonful of the bursting blue first. The second it touched my tongue, a rush of icy sweetness spread through my mouth—like cool mint mixed with something electric. Then—pop! Tiny sparks of cold fizzed across my tongue, sending shivers down my throat and straight to my toes.
"Oh, wow," I gasped, blinking as a misty puff of cold air escaped my lips. "That's… new."
I quickly reached for the blossoming orange to chase the shock away. The flavor melted warm and soft, like sunlight wrapped in fruit and honey. My chest bloomed with a strange warmth that seemed rise all the way up to my face.
"Warm and cold at the same time," I muttered, alternating spoonfuls with cautious curiosity. "Are desserts here supposed to feel like emotions?"
The air around me shimmered faintly with mana as the two flavors mixed on my tongue. The cold blue left trails of frost against the table's edge while the orange glow danced faintly along my fingertips. It faded as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but the lingering sweetness of the treat.
I smiled softly, resting my chin in my hand as I looked out over the balcony. "Magic even in ice cream," I whispered, the thought oddly comforting.
The breeze carried the scent of clay and paint, and the half-finished fox stared back at me with its crooked grin—as if amused by my discovery.
I finished the last of my desserts, scraping the bowl clean before stacking the dishes neatly on top of one another. The air had grown cooler, and the last traces of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon. The once golden-rose sky now deepened into a violet-blue black canvas scattered with stars—each one glimmering like tiny shards of magic.
"The sun has set and the air has a cold breeze," my father's voice came from behind me, smooth and steady. I turned slightly as he draped a thick, soft blanket around my shoulders. Warmth immediately spread through me, chasing away the chill that had begun to creep in.
"Is this heated?" I asked, pulling the fabric closer, feeling the comforting hum against my skin.
"Yes," he replied simply, his tone carrying a faint hint of pride.
"Magic?" I added, arching a brow at him with quiet amusement.
"Yes," he repeated, mirroring my expression, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, knowing smile as he sat in the chair across from me.
For a moment, the two of us just sat there—father and daughter beneath the open night sky, the soft glow of mana-lamps casting golden halos around us. The estate beyond was quiet, distant laughter and the rustle of leaves the only sounds that dared to interrupt.
It was peaceful. Almost perfect
The night air felt softer now, the stars clearer. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, letting its warmth anchor me as I reached for my wooden fox once more. The tool felt familiar in my hand, grounding. Each gentle carve against the grain filled the quiet between us with a steady, comforting rhythm.
"Father," I said at last, my voice low, almost swallowed by the breeze.
Father sounds too distant…. I should call him dad… Do I have that right? But Rena is okay with it…. Will he?
He looked up from where he sat, patient and silent, waiting.
"If perhaps…" I hesitated, the words trembling on my tongue, "if perhaps there was a chance I wasn't yours… would you still claim me as your daughter?"
The question hung heavy between us. My chest tightened, guilt and fear tugging at the corners of my lips as I braced myself for the worst possible answer.
He didn't flinch. Didn't waver. "You're my child," he said—matter-of-fact, bold, and unwavering.
I blinked, startled by how certain he sounded. "But… but—"
"Rena," he interrupted gently, his tone firm but not unkind, "do not doubt your mother. Do not doubt me. And more importantly, do not doubt yourself."
He reached forward, fingers tilting my chin upward until my eyes met his. The steady grey in his gaze held no shadow of uncertainty—only conviction.
"You are my child," he said again, slower this time, as if sealing it into the air itself. "No matter what thoughts circle in your head… you are mine."
For a moment, all I could do was stare back, feeling the warmth of his certainty melt the fear I didn't realize I'd been clutching so tightly.
"Mom was crafty," I whispered, brushing away the last curls of wood shavings. The small fox rested in my palm—three tails fanned out behind it, whiskers curving like waves, a tiny heart-shaped nose, and sharp, catlike eyes that seemed almost alive under the moonlight.
"Yes, she was," dad said, his voice soft, steeped in memory. "A wonderful talent to have when it comes to crafting mana tools and items. I would often sit and watch her work. She was always… at peace. As if nothing in this world could touch her once she began creating."
His words painted her so vividly that I could almost see her—the steady hands, the calm smile, the quiet magic in her focus. I ran my fingers along the fox's smooth surface, feeling each polished curve as I thought about how deeply he must have loved her.
"Why did she leave?" I asked suddenly, bluntly. The question escaped before I could stop it.
He froze. His breath hitched for a moment before he answered, his tone low and raw. "I do not know. Every day, I ask myself that."
Silence stretched between us. The air felt heavier, the night colder.
"Are you upset that she did?" I continued carefully, eyes still on the fox. "Do you… blame her for this—" I gestured weakly between us, "—this situation at hand? Because… I do."
My voice cracked near the end. I let out a shaky breath, then looked away—up toward the moon, white and vast, glowing with soft hues of blue and lavender. Its light caught on the tears that hadn't yet fallen, painting them silver.
I can't believe I just asked that. Is he upset that the women he loves up and went MIA on him with His secret child disappearing for twenty three years. Of course he would be upset, he just wouldn't want his daughter to know that. He missed so much of rena growing, learning. First steps, words, birthdays are all gone. Unfairly taken away because of my mom's decisions.
"I just think her decision was unfair. And I am upset with that choice, i still love and respect her" i kept my eyes on the sky as I talked. "I want to know why."
" I agree with you." he too cast his gaze up taking a deep sigh. "and we will find that answer."
I nod my head, a silent promise spoken between up was carried away with the wind. Yet the determination was still there.
"Its time for bed now," he smiled, getting up from his to come closer to me scooping me up from the chair.
"But—but." I stuttered trying to plead my case of not going to bed but he cut me off.
"No buts. Fighting back won't help you heal faster" he laughed carrying me back to my bed.
If only I could fight back; toss, turn something rather than be carried like a delicate doll and tucked in like a five year old. This is embarrassing.
Dad soon places the back of his hand on my forehead. " Your cheeks are red. You're hot again."
"Its the heated blanket." I mumbled.
"Maybe it was unwise to have you sit outside that long." he tilted his head to the side as he touched both sides of my cheeks.
He better not tell me I'm not allowed to be on my own balcony. It may be both the heated blanket , slight embarrassment and the fever…. Mostly fever but i'm not telling him that.
" You can not kick me out of my own balcony" I stated firmly yet silently pleading that he would give in.
He snorted as if he was flexing that he could, then he raised his brow. " I guess I should have thought of putting heat floors… and maybe a heat lamp out there," he laughed.
"Thank you." I said sheepish but grateful. Not wanting to challenge the snort from a minute ago. Something tells me it won't end in my favor, besides I am getting heat floors.
This warmth…. This protection… feels so naturally comfortable….