Journal – Day 3

  I'm sorry for the lost day. I've been on the move for most of it. While I could probably take on the ones following me, I’d rather not push the local government against me more than it already is.

  It seems the local authorities have some way to track the use of magic. Fortunately, I was able to study its effectiveness. It doesn’t seem to detect cantrips, and if I’m careful, I can use first-level spells without setting off any alarms. However, when it comes to magical items and innate abilities, the system is inconsistent. I haven’t figured out a pattern yet.

  Now, onto more interesting things— the people here resemble Italians in appearance, and from what I’ve observed, the wealthy elites primarily belong to this group. They refer to themselves as Aurisians. While there are other human ethnicities present, Aurisians seem to be the dominant one.

  Guys, I miss you. I wish I had anything that could let me make contact.

  Entry Ended.

  Alistair

  It had been about a week since I arrived in Iron-Port and settled into my uncle’s estate. While the city wasn’t as bad as I’d first thought, there was still considerably less to do—and none of my usual friends to pass the time with.

  As I made my way downstairs into the living room, I noticed my uncle and Lavinia speaking with an unfamiliar guest.

  “Uncle, who is our guest?” I asked, making my presence known.

  Uncle turned toward me. “Ah, Alistair, I didn’t realize you were free. Allow me to introduce you—this is Lady Eleanor Fairchild.”

  I blinked at the name. That was… a surprisingly short introduction.

  “Oh, just sit down, Alistair,” Lavinia said, lightly patting the space beside her on the couch. “There’s no need to be so formal, especially since we’re not in the capital right now. Lady Fairchild was just telling us about the class she’ll be teaching.”

  I took the offered seat, still eyeing our guest with mild curiosity. ‘It is probably court etiquette or the like.’

  “Well, as I was saying,” Lady Eleanor continued, “I’ll be teaching practical combat—”

  I frowned, cutting in before I could stop myself. “Do you mean you’ll be supervising, my lady?”

  Lady Eleanor turned to me with a smile that was as beautiful as it was frigid. “Are you deaf, or am I not speaking Imperial? I said I’ll be teaching it.”

  Then, as if I were nothing more than an afterthought, she turned back to my uncle and said, “You told me this boy was smart, Bertram. Are you sure you weren’t referring to another nephew? Because I see no one here who matches your description.”

  Heat rushed to my face. I clenched my fists, indignation flaring, but before I could speak, Lavinia’s hand gripped my arm in warning. I turned to her, and while her face remained composed, I could see the slight tension in her forced smile. Anyone who didn’t know her well might have missed it.

  Lady Eleanor hummed in approval. “Ah, so he can use his head—or at the very least, recognize when someone else is using theirs.” She leaned back slightly, as if my existence was no more than a passing inconvenience. “Now, as I was saying…”

  She continued speaking, as though what she’d said wasn’t worthy of a duel—or, at the very least, some form of recompense for my honor.

  “I plan to give the kind of lessons I should have had before going to war,” Lady Eleanor said. “It will be good for them. So I’ll need a great deal of discretion—though that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

  Uncle wiped his brow, clearly uneasy. “Well, it’s not impossible, but I have to ask… is it really necessary to have a healer on standby? You shouldn’t be putting students through anything life-threatening.” He glanced down at the paper Lady Fairchild had handed him, his frown deepening. “And you’ve put a lot of warnings. You do realize you need students to keep your position as a professor, don’t you?”

  “I’m more than aware,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, leaving little room for argument. “But they should know exactly what they’re signing up for. I only want the ones who want to be there.”

  Uncle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I understand that, but… was it really necessary to include in the course description, and I quote: ‘If you are too much of a coward to handle dismemberment, blood, guts, and curses, then please kindly avoid disgracing your family and friends, leave this city, and pray I don’t find you.’” He lowered the paper. “Can you see why I have concerns?”

  Lady Eleanor waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, please, no one reads those things in full. And besides, you missed the first part.”

  Uncle grimaced. “Yes, but simply stating that a sixth-circle war mage is teaching the course is already enough to draw attention. Expecting people not to read the details isn’t exactly practical.”

  “That’s the point, Lord Bertram.” She smiled, clearly pleased with herself. “If they read the entire thing, they’re perceptive, and they know this class is for them. If they only read the first part, they’re idiots. And if they read it all and still decide to attend, then they’re the smart ones.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Judging by the silence in the room, she was the only one who thought this was a brilliant idea.

  “Well, I hope this hasn’t been too much of a bother, but I do have things to do.” With that, Lady Fairchild placed down her teacup and strode out of the room without another word, leaving only stunned silence in her wake.

  Lavinia huffed, fanning herself dramatically. “That woman was insufferable! She showed no respect to a duke’s daughter at all!” Despite her bluster, she looked a bit pale after the ordeal.

  I turned to my uncle, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. “Uncle, why did you let her treat you like that? This is your house.” My uncle was a highly respected man with powerful connections, and while I didn’t particularly like Lavinia, not many people would be so openly dismissive of her either.

  “Were you even listening?” a voice piped up from the corner of the room.

  I turned to see Eric—on his knees, arms stretched out, holding a book aloft as though offering it to the heavens.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  Lavinia folded her arms and pouted. “He tried to defend my honor. Lady Fairchild told him to do that as punishment.”

  I glanced between them, then back at Eric. “Sure, she might be sixth-circle, but a real war mage? I doubt it.”

  Eric just stared at me blankly.

  Uncle sighed. “I’m afraid she is—and a very capable mage knight as well. She also holds a high rank in the military.” He hesitated. “That said… she has been better recently.”

  “Better? Uncle, how could she possibly be worse?” I couldn’t imagine how Lady Eleanor could be any more insufferable.

  “And Lavinia, please tell Eric to put that down and sit properly. He’s not a peasant.”

  Lavinia seemed to agree. “Yes, come now, Eric, put the book down and join us properly.”

  “Now, Alistair, they aren’t called peasants,” Uncle chided.

  I rolled my eyes at the admonishment. It seemed Uncle still had a bleeding heart for the lower classes.

  Uncle sighed. “After her time ‘civilising’ Eldoria’s forces, she was far more forceful—ruthless, even. She was sent here to ‘calm down’ a bit, though I doubt it’s working.” He didn’t look pleased as he continued. “I was her handler during the campaign, and I can tell you firsthand—sending her away didn’t temper her, it only made her more emboldened. She threw her weight around constantly, and those who dared challenge her were often humiliated.” He gave Eric a pointed look as the knight stiffly rose, placed the book aside, and took a seat with a resigned expression.

  “But I haven’t heard of her at all,” I said, frowning. “I would think someone as powerful as a sixth-circle war mage—especially a woman—would be more well-known.”

  Uncle shook his head. “That’s because you wouldn’t have known her by her real name. You would know her as Orion Stormveil.”

  My eyes widened. “She’s Orion? I thought he died at The Battle of Duskwatch Ridge!”

  Uncle gave a weary nod. “Yes. When the campaign started, she wanted to enlist, but both her family and the military opposed it. So she created the alias Orion Stormveil. She fought under that name until the truth was revealed at Duskwatch Ridge—but by then, it was the final battle of the campaign. Instead of making a scandal of it, the military quietly honored her, while the public was told that Orion Stormveil had perished in battle.”

  “So that’s why she’s like that?” Lavinia asked while fussing over Eric.

  “No, she was always like that,” Uncle said with a tired sigh. “As I said, she used to be worse. But we’re getting off track—she has improved recently, and I suspect being a professor will help even more. It’ll give her something to focus on.” He set the paper down and pulled out his notebook.

  “Well, whatever is responsible for this so-called improvement, I hope it continues.” Lavinia straightened up. “This has been quite the stressful evening. I think I’ll retire for the night.” With that, she swept out of the room.

  “I hope so too,” Uncle murmured, though he looked anything but convinced.

  Eric, who usually wasn’t interested in people’s personal affairs, gave him a curious glance. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  Uncle sighed. “Not wrong exactly… just unreliable. And it makes me uneasy.”

  “What do you mean, Uncle?” I asked, frowning. It wasn’t like him to get uneasy over something so trivial.

  “Well… when I say she’s ‘gotten better,’ what I really mean is that she’s just focused her energy on tormenting someone else for a change.” He looked even more uncomfortable as he added, “And that someone is Measter Gine… which, I’ll admit, is somewhat my fault.”

  “Lord Bertram, surely it’s not that bad?” Eric asked.

  Uncle ran a hand down his face. “It is, Eric and it was unfair to him. And from what I know of Measter Gine, he doesn’t need the undue stress.”

  To my surprise, Eric seemed to recognize the name.

  “Isn’t that the professor for Magical Biology?” he asked.

  Uncle looked equally surprised. “You know him?”

  “Wait, I think I’m missing something here,” I interrupted. “And why do you know this Gine, Eric? You barely remember anyone who isn’t a Gray or a strong mage knight.” I looked between them, growing more confused by the second.

  Uncle shook his head. “Yes, I know him. In fact, I was the one who got him the teaching position. But to keep it short—I made an offhand comment that directed Lady Fairchild’s attention toward Measter Gine, and, well… the two of them really don’t get along.” He sighed heavily.

  “Why feel bad about it? He’s Eldorian,” I said, curious about his reasoning.

  “For many reasons, Alistair,” Uncle replied. “And because of my involvement, many of his proposals were shut down before they even had the chance to be tested.”

  “Then why not just tell Lady Fairchild to stop?” Eric asked, clearly puzzled.

  Uncle hesitated. “Because, honestly, I don’t think it would matter anymore… and, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t want it to stop.” He looked slightly ashamed. “Having her focus on Measter Gine has made my life significantly easier. That was one of the reasons I offered him the teaching post—not the only reason, but it certainly played a part.”

  “Wait… so he’s not actually qualified to teach?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “He’s just there to act as a lightning rod for Lady Fairchild?”

  “No, no,” Uncle said quickly, shaking his head. “Measter Gine is quite skilled. He may not look perfect on paper, but I genuinely believe he’ll make a good professor. Do not mistake that.”

  I wasn’t convinced that some random Eldorian could be any good, and it must have shown on my face because Uncle continued.

  “Well, if you want to meet the man yourself, you’ll have the chance tomorrow. He’s getting his mage license, and I’ll be one of the witnesses. I doubt he’d mind a few extra people watching. But look at the time—I should be off.” With that, he made his way out of the room.

  I turned to Eric, who still hadn’t moved much. “So, how did you lose? I didn’t even hear a fight.”