Chương 14

That man saved my life… Sunlight pierced the thin silk curtains, warming up Vaela's feet. Her unfocused eyes showed her a blurry vision of the canopy of her bed—still with the same pink, girly design she'd excitedly picked as a child. This bed had been with her for longer than her mana core, surviving many nights of jumping out her childish excitement and pillow fights against her caretakers. It had been a while since the last one of those. These days, her pillows mostly just soaked her tears.

He looked young, Vaela thought. His mana core was smaller than mine. As always, Vaela was the one that sucked at magic. She was the one making Ellaris look weak, so far behind everyone that she might as well not consider herself a main member at all. She was a trained mage with a level two core, yet it was a mage with a level one core that effortlessly drove back the gang. A gang that nearly killed her. She shuddered, hugging her pillow. Someone had nearly killed her. She was almost dead because of some thugs.

A mage officer was dead. She didn't even know his name. When she asked, wanting to apologize to his family, Father had frowned back and said, " If an officer died, it's because he was too weak to protect himself. That's not for you to worry about. You were strong enough to survive, but not strong enough to capture them. That's why they targeted you instead of Fellia."

"Am I just an easy core upgrade to people?" she whispered at her pillow. A knock came on her door, making her flinch.

"What is it?" she asked. Carefully, the door pushed open. The black-haired head of Nara, her caretaker, peeked in. She wore a black servant's uniform, which lacked the red that the mages of Ellaris wore.

"Are you still sleeping?"

"No, I'm ready to wake up!" Vaela said with an embarrassed laugh.

"Am I needed?"

"Your father wished to check on you," Nara said.

"I remind you that it's currently two past noon. He has something to talk about." Vaela winced internally. Lately, Father had paid less attention to her, preferring Fellia and all of her brothers for mage work. Even Laren was more trusted than she was. Every day, it felt like her family left her more time to spend as she wished. She figured that was their way of silently giving up on her. In a way, that was precisely what she wished for, to not spend her life fighting people with magic.

"Is everything okay?" Vaela pushed herself off of her bed, finding her hair messy. She really didn't look good.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute." Nara's eyes remained concerned.

"You did well to drive them off, Vaela. It's not your fault that the officer didn't make it."

"I know, I know. I'm just tired after exerting mana."

"If anything, I think Father is happy with you," Nara said. Sure. Maybe he remembered that I have a mana core people might want to steal. Or maybe he's upset that I'm making us look weak again. Nara kept watching as Vaela searched her cabinets for a clean uniform. The caretaker asked, "Would you like me to—""Just let me get dressed; I'll be out in a minute!" It had been hard to think of Nara as a friend lately. She wasn't a bad person. She wished the best for Vaela. But if Father was in a bad mood, so was Nara.

Her caretaker said, "I recommend wearing the proper ear frock today." The door clicked shut. Vaela frowned at her wardrobe. As much as she wanted to stay in bed, she knew Nara would knock again in just a few minutes if she tried to hole up for any longer. She snuck in her skirt and quickly brushed her hair, thankful that modern outfits didn't take much time to get dressed in. Lastly, she faced her selection of ear frocks.

Dresses and gowns had gone out of fashion amongst nobles a few decades ago, just before Vaela was born. Ear frocks were the new preferred method to show class—the long, gown-like earrings that often reached the shoulders. They were like little dresses for the ears. Quite cute, in Vaela's opinion, and she much preferred them over gowns as an everyday outfit. She had a cute selection to pick from.

A hand-crafted white tuft that she often wore to the library, or an even simpler design with red and white feathers tied together. That one tickled a little, but she loved how it looked for casual strolls. For a classier frock, she had one that was essentially just jewels shaped into a tiny gown. Not her favorite, and it was heavy, but it fit certain situations. Then there was the frock for House Ellaris' mages. The one that her sister always wore, and the one that Vaela was supposed proudly display as well.

It wasn't a gown-shaped frock at all, but a small black obsidian monolith, lined with mana gemstones. Mana could be pushed into them to make them glow. Ellaris's ear frock was a symbol of power, the sign of Ellaris's only mages. With a sigh, Vaela fitted them to her ears. Right away, the heavy black obsidian tried to stretch her ears. She added a Strength Enhancement spell to prevent that.

It wasn't pretty in any way, but it did convey that she was a mage, she supposed, enough for Nara to give a nod of approval when she exited her room. The hallways of her home were all old-fashioned polished hardwood. Only one side had windows, pointing at the garden of the inner courtyard, which her family considered a prettier view than the streets outside. The dungeon entrance jutted out in the middle like a large spike. The stairs down were protected by two mage officers.

She was always warned of its dangers, yet her childhood was still spent playing in the garden, not outside in Asterra. They passed the guest hall and kitchen, currently empty but with tables ready and perfectly clean to hold guests. The personal, everyday kitchen was smaller, and the walk there took five minutes. Halfway there, a cloud of mana formed above her head. When a presence became powerful enough, walls and doors no longer suppressed the sense of mana.

Just the gaps in the doorframes was enough for Vaela to know exactly where her father was. Opening the final door, the source of the mana fully washed over her, welcoming her to the least pleasant room in the estate. Asterra's Tyrant of Magic sat paralyzed on a seat with wheels. He seemed to be squinting at a crossword. Salidar Ellaris was a slim, quickly aging man with a balding scalp and skin that got rougher every year. He was far from the muscular giant that Asterrans imagined him as.

His thick eyebrows gave him a stare that could curse one's dreams. His eyes were the worst part—pupils blind with some black substance that blocked his vision. He also wore ear frocks; thick black orbs carved into the symbol of a blooming fireball. To a five-sensed eye, who could not feel the mana realm, Vaela's Father merely appeared like an ill, soon-to-die elderly person. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. He was forty-two years old. This was all caused by magic.

The confines of his level four mana core extended beyond his physical body. In the sixth realm, a small star glared back at Vaela, filling the room in ambient mana. His mana core was so large that recovering spent mana was no longer possible with Asterra's ambient mana. Attached to his chair was a thick, purple mana crystal brought in from further north, where the mana was thicker, concentrated enough to support larger mana cores. Level four cores simply weren't supposed to exist in Asterra.

Level three cores were the absolute limit here, and even Fellia, with her level three crimson core, required a weekly dose of more concentrated mana from Gondorra, or her core would starve. Every week, new mana crystals were brought in for huge sums just to keep everyone's cores fed.

"Clear the room," Father said calmly, sensing Vaela. The servant cleaning food stains from the table stopped her job immediately. With a bow, she exited. The room became quiet. Father turned his head, eyeing Vaela from the edge of his eyeballs, where the blindness was less severe. For a while, he stared in silence.

"Vaela."

"Yes, Father."

"I was proud of you." She blinked.

"Yes?"

"When you reported that you held off a level two crimson core," Father said. His tone was eerily quiet.

"I thought you'd finally reached the decision to grow up. Not that you'd done anything impressive. Driving thugs off is the bare minimum. Had they met Fellia, they would be dead." Her chest filled with pressure.

"Yes…" He tapped his finger on the crossword. His bushy brows formed a frown.

"You didn't drive anyone back at all. You nearly died, Vaela." She stood there, throat tight, heart slowly beginning to race. Gods, of course this couldn't end easily. She'd already almost died; why couldn't she just sleep?

"Witnesses have spoken, and the living officer has shared his view of the events. It was some boy with a level one core who drove them back." His voice was quiet and monotone. Not angry in the slightest.

"Mhm…" Vaela managed to mutter out. The sixth sense erupted in mana. Father's sense overpowered her. Vaela braced every muscle, closing her eyes, as if trying to protect herself from mana invading. She couldn't cover her ears, however. Father's mana solidified ever so slightly, pushing pressure into her ears. It felt like her head was about to blow. The pressure increased. It took her all not to scream out. Any harder, and she'd be forced to fight back with her own mana. It didn't come to that.

Father pushed a shockwave of loose mana onto her chest, sending her flying back. Her back crashed against the double doors, the wood thumping loudly as the air was knocked out of her lungs.

"Why," Father asked quietly, "are you clenching your muscles? Are you afraid of drawing mana? You are a mage, Vaela!" Holding in the pain, she stood up.

"I'm sorry, Father… I… I can explain. He saved my life. The random mage. I agreed to let him go as a favor…" Mana oozed from his body while he kept staring at her.

"He wasn't evil!" Vaela said.

"Sure, he was an illegal mage, but—""I am aware," Father said.

"Not all mages are evil. Some deserve to live. Most of them do." Heart still racing in fear of what punishment Father would give to her next, she waited for him to continue. Father sighed, turning back to his crossword.

"We spoiled you too much, Vaela. I should not have let your mother dictate a happy childhood to you. Of course, you would be ill trained for how the world works." Her eyes pointed low as she accepted being berated. In her head, she wondered, How am I the spoiled one? Laren and Crone go to balls every week. Fellia terrorizes civilians when she wants to. I just go to the library every now and then…

"Asterra is no utopia," Father said.

"Everyone fights for a place in this world. You're losing, Vaela, and you're doing it in my colors."

"Mm," she said.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry. I need you to stop spreading weakness with my frock on your ears. I hope nearly dying is a wake-up call, Vaela." Her eyes pointing at the ground, Vaela didn't mention that she hadn't been wearing the house frock at all. Just as Father hated her for not being a proper mage with the obsidian badge on her ears, he also hated the less commanding frocks Vaela preferred.

"I will practice more…" Vaela said.

"You will do so in the dungeon," Father said.

"Crone will bring you down for the next hunt. You two will…" He paused his words, sensing something. Vaela's perceptions came a few seconds late, but the aura approaching the doors became clear. Fellia Ellaris entered without knocking. In fact, she entered without using her hands at all, instead pushing the doors with levitation. Vaela's twin sister walked in with her head high, two obsidian ear frocks proudly on her ears, each gemstone lit brightly with mana.

She had longer hair and a more stern face, with pants instead of a skirt. Behind her, a chain of red, solid mana was attached to a young and unconscious Asterran boy wearing a torn black cloak. His chest was cut clean open, deep into the ribs and through bone, with the bleeding stopped by a thick layer of mana as a temporary bandage. A "platform" of transparent mana had been cast under him to prevent dirtying the floor. Vaela froze at the sight.

Fellia glanced at her, noting her existence, which deepened her frown, before she turned to Father.

"I only caught one this time. But here's another one. Do we wake him up for questioning or toss him straight in?" Father subtly smiled.

"Do you need to question him, or use him to catch more?"

"I don't think so," Fellia said.

"We found a spell to track their warding method. That will be more effective than trying to torture information out of these idiots."

"In that case," Father said, satisfied, "toss him in. Crone has been getting proficient at extraction lately." What extraction? Vaela thought, fighting the sick feeling in her stomach. That man needed immediate attention. Somehow, Vaela had a feeling he wouldn't be receiving it.

"And can I take a crystal for this?" Fellia asked.

"Any time, Fel," Father said.

"And take another before Vorhard visits tomorrow." Fellia grinned at the first half of the sentence, until that abruptly dropped at the name. This was one part of Fellia's more successful mage life that Vaela was not jealous of. Inside Fellia's core, alongside her level three crimson core, she had another, smaller concentration of mana. That was known as an empty soulbond —a type of extra core upgrade separate from the main core itself.

A soulbond required two participants to bond together, vastly upgrading the capacity of their cores. In Fellia's case, that meant she would be holding a political marriage with Neil Vorhard. An old, wrinkly and salacious man Vaela met once, who kissed not just Fellia on the forehead, but Vaela as well.

"I'm waiting with loving arms," Fellia said. Her tone sounded the opposite of that. She turned to the door and asked, "Is it fine if the next bunch arrives dead? Would help a lot."

"Preferably alive, Fel," Father said.

"Never murder where you don't need to. But… Do what you need to retrieve the spellbook." She nodded, but didn't look happy to hear that. Why? Vaela wondered. Do you want to kill them, Fellia? They were criminals, Vaela supposed… But not all of them were evil, as the mage who saved her had proven. A dissatisfied look on her face, Fellia headed out with the unconscious body dragging behind. She paused at the door.

"One more thing. It's about the treant."

"That hermit in the dungeon?" Fellia nodded.

"He attacked a group of mage officers. They confirmed his core is green, and they suspect a level three core." Father's brows furrowed.

"They suspect his core is level three?"

"And I suspect our officers are blind," Fellia said.

"Nobody could clearly describe what they saw. Supposedly, his core was concealed." A thoughtful expression.

"Do not underestimate him, Fellia."

"I can kill a level three green core."

"Yes… Kill him if you can. You will be rewarded."

"Thank you," Fellia said, finally exiting. Vaela remained in the exact same spot, out of everyone's way. Father's eyes turned back to her.

"That is the job of Ellaris. A perfect demonstration. The officers will be free to take you for a raid. You'll bring them to deeper levels with the help of your level two core."

"That mage was about to die, Dad…" Father snorted.

"Of course he'll die. He's a member of a terrorist gang." Vaela's head remained low.

"What did you mean by extraction?" He tapped a pen on his crossword. He sighed.

"He will get a good talk with Crone, maybe pay a fine, and then he'll get send on his merry way, back to where he came from." Vaela hated the clear sarcasm in every word. She was missing something. She knew she'd been missing something in this family for her entire life. Some secret that Fellia and her brothers were let in on, yet one that Vaela still couldn't grasp.

"Think about it for one second, Vaela," Father said.

"How do you think we have so many mana crystals coming in every week?"

"Because the parliament needs us to keep order?" Father scribbled another answer to the crossword.

"You're naïve and spoiled, Vaela. The world of politics extends much further than just Asterra. Why do you think the Gondorran government fights to keep us in charge of magic here?" She raised her eyebrows, but it didn't look like Father had any intention of elaborating. He frowned at her.

"Now, head to the dungeon, my daughter, and show me some goddamned results."