Daybreak:Volume 1 Chapter 6

Chapter 5 - Status of Life

Even on a Sunday, Ariadne's morning began at 6AM. For an early winter day, that was before daybreak.

Taking advantage of a fresh mind, she always started with an hour of studying. On the second day of the weekend, this meant a quick read through next week's materials in preparation.

After that was a full set of warm-ups, from squats to sit-ups, while she watched the dawning light permeate the horizon in grapefruit red. It was followed by an hour of sword practice, slashing away at illusory opponents provided by the academy's drill hall.

Manteuffel clan swords were heavy and difficult to handle. While longer than a bastard sword, their blades were narrower but thicker. The handle matched the wielder's arm in length and included a sidebar near the guard, while a second, shorter blade could eject from the rear end. The result could be interchangeably used as a greatsword, spear, or two-bladed sword; not to mention the entire weapon could magically enlarge into a heavy lance thrice the height of man, tipped by a frighteningly long blade.

Those swords symbolized the family's customs and pride: adaptable to circumstances, creative in its use, mastered only through diligence, and deadly beyond all doubt in action.

Ariadne was the fourth child in a branch family, the only daughter behind three older brothers. In a life where everyone expected her every step to be overshadowed by more prestigious clansmen, she managed to come out with her head held high and her name near the top.

With her morning routine finished and an off-day ahead, Ariadne indulged her impeccable horsemanship by taking her pegasus familiar Edelweiss out on a ride. She greeted the castle stablemaster as she went by, whom she knew well from two years of borrowing horses. Although now that she has flown with Edelweiss, Ariadne doubted she could ever be satisfied again by merely riding on the ground.

Soaring across the castle perimeter from ten stories up, she noticed another girl practicing early in the morning. It was Pascal's familiar, shooting arrows across the roof again with a massive bow, the design of which she has never seen.

"Good morning, Miss Suvorosky!" Ariadne called out as she guided Edelweiss into a flawless landing atop the dormitory keep. Having only spoken to her once before, Ariadne had to tap her memory necklace -- which she used as a diary -- for a reminder on names.

"Good morning, uh, milady." The same could not be said for the other girl as she stood uncertain.

"Ariadne is fine," her ever-gentle smile radiated as she walked up.

The smaller girl finally pulled out from her loading stance, her long canary-white hair swaying in the rooftop breeze.

"In that case, please call me Kaede as well."

"I take it that's a bow from your world?"

Ariadne tested the waters, still not entirely believing the 'otherworld' story. But Kaede dispelled Ariadne's lingering suspicions in an instant as her pensive mood cast a gloom over her entire figure:

"Yeah... I practiced with it on most mornings back in my world. It's a meditative activity, and keeping up the routine helps when everything else changed so much."

"So how are you managing? Has that self-centered prick been treating you alright?"

Kaede shrugged:

"I have a sturdy roof to live under, hearty food to enjoy, and a comfy bed to warm. Other than my lack of purpose here, and the unusual... changes, I guess I really should be grateful... since it could've been so much worse. Pascal isn't a bad person; I may fault him for the summoning, but what's done is done. I just wish he stopped treating me like he owned me."

Not a bad person? He's a walking insult to everyone around him! Ariadne thought, remembering the night when he shattered their relationship by listing everything she did that he resented. Nobody treats me like that and walks away with it.

"That prick does that with everyone. He acts like he's the crown prince or something, that anyone who isn't a superior must come under his unrelenting judgment and degradation. He's so condescending that he doesn't even respect most nobles like people, and outright ignores commoners."

It was amazing that such bitter words could emerge from a sunny smile. But Kaede's surprised, raised brows soon transformed into a sympathetic grin of her own.

"Well, if he gives you any trouble, please feel free to confide in me about it." Ariadne left the other half of her thoughts unsaid: A real scandal will send enough evil glares his way that even he'll flinch.

For a moment, Kaede's parted lips seemed eager to take up her offer, but all that eventually came out was "thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

Ariadne shrugged off her rising disappointment. Don't be greedy, she silently scolded herself.

If there was one thing Ariadne enjoyed more than riding, and wanted more than a renowned career in the Knights Phantom, it was the trust, recognition, and admiration of everyone around her. This went doubly so for the closest person to one of her few enemies -- those who had dared to scorn her. From expressions alone, she was certain that Kaede was steadily growing on all three.

Her boyfriend Parzifal once joked, amicably of course, that 'vanity' should have been her middle name. Her response was to ask him: "what's wrong with that?"

"So what's your impression of our world?"

"Fantastic, decadent, and liberal for its time." Kaede shrugged again: "haven't left the castle though, so I can't really say."

"To nobility, decadence is an expression of prestige, and as for liberal... Weichsel does pride itself for being one of the most forward-thinking of the Hyperion nations. I'm glad you like it though."

The smaller girl's response was a somewhat wry smile under her morning-chilled rosy cheeks.

"Is there anything you need? Like I mentioned before, don't hesitate to ask. There's no way a guy could anticipate everything a girl needs, even if he was the caretaker type." Ariadne didn't even need to append which that self-centered prick certainly isn't.

Looking thoughtful for a minute, Kaede then glanced down at her blizzard-blue dress and pushed against its petticoat layers with her leg, bare except for snow-white stockings.

"Well... Pascal's clothes for me are all dresses. This is rather improper, but... could you help me get some pants?"

"Trousers for women are only worn as a part of military uniforms," Ariadne's answer came straightforward. "Outside that, it's considered religious impropriety. So no, I can't get you a set, sorry."

"What about a shorter skirt then?" The smaller girl eyed the hi-low short skirt that Ariadne wore, with its mid-thigh height front hem, exposing the tight breeches underneath that hugged her beautiful long legs.

The noblewoman in Ariadne felt scandalized, before she reminded herself again: she's from another world; different norms and customs and all.

"In our world, it's proper modesty for a girl to keep both legs fully covered. Although -- let me think on that; I might be able to arrange something."

Kaede beamed; a cute smile that truly lit up her doll-like appearance.

For once, Ariadne thought it was kind of a shame: "do ladies in your world mostly wear pants?" She actually felt relieved when the smaller girl shook her head.

Their comparisons between the worlds continued on for a good hour, until Ariadne saw Parzifal on his daily run around the grounds and left to join him.

She still didn't believe that another realm, without the aid of magic, could advance to a more technological level of civilization. Sure, traders often boasted of engineering marvels from the Grand Republic of Samara and even brought back gadgets of non-magical construction to prove it. But Samarans merely looked human and held an unfair advantage: longevity rivaling the healthiest mages and memories of 'past lives'... more like fiendish witchcraft and whispers of the devil.

----- * * * -----

It wasn't until near midday did Pascal telepathically call Kaede down to the dining hall for brunch, followed by dragging her off to the library.

"You can read those tomes on your time all you want," he explained after sitting her down at a table with both ends piled high with books. "But while the sun is still up, you are going to help me research for this."

From his chair facing her from the other side, Pascal slapped a piece of parchment down on the table.

"Victory through ordered chaos and destruction of organizational, logistical, and political assets - Pandemonium Doctrine," Kaede read, before quickly scanning through the rest of the perfect-graded research proposal. Calling upon unknown military treatises from this world as well as the names of battles from recent wars, it suggested a recompilation of tactical and operational guidelines with an emphasis on speed, mobility, and fluidity by multiple simultaneous thrusts deep into enemy territory.

Blitzkrieg...? Not quite; this sounds more like something from the steppes. But...

"You're writing a new military doctrine?" She asked, her mind barely grasping the reality of the parchment in her hands. He's only nineteen!

"Many of the basic concepts my father already employed during the War of Imperial Succession fifteen years ago, the same war that earned him a hero's fame and the title Landgrave of Nordkreuz." Pascal actually had enough humility for a faint blush for once. "But I need as many field examples as possible. Since you are into reading all those boring history books, finding the right battle records for me to examine will be your task!"

Kaede didn't mind studying. But sweeping across the table with dozens of dusty tomes piled in thick columns, her eyes were beginning to feel tired already.

----- * * * -----

With three knocks on the thick mahogany door, Professor Albert opened it and lead the two inside.

Kaede first met Professor Albert von Marienfeld five minutes ago. With balding gray hair above onyx eyes as sharp as an eagle's, he had an imposing set of well-trimmed long mustaches. His build was lean with just a bit of belly, his thick arms a remnant of wrestling days long passed. One didn't even need to see him in uniform, impeccable and proudly decorated with medals including the Knight's Cross, to recognize that he was no mere scholar.

He also glanced over Kaede with just one look and never bothered to introduce himself. His key words that ensured Pascal's attention was "the headmaster has returned and wishes to see you, now."

Which brought them all to this room, as large as the White House's Oval Office and furnished similarly: massive office table backed against huge windows, with intricate chairs and comfy couches atop rich rugs that covered the room's center. The hour was dusk, and the entire office was currently bathed in sunset orange.

Not satisfied with his face being shadowed by the light from the windows, the headmaster also wore a bucket helmet on top of his gray robes. His outfit exposed not a patch of skin; even his hands were covered by black gloves.

Kaede found it a novel experience, to say the least.

"Sir von Moltewitz, welcome," a raspy voice emerged from behind the steel faceplate, like the sound of a man with an incurable throat disease. "Firstly, allow me to extend a belated congratulations for your recent promotion and knighthood."

"Thank you Sir."

"Nevertheless, it distresses me to hear that you have freely altered the sacred familiar summoning ceremony beyond acceptable boundaries and called forth a foreign girl as a familiar."

"There is a first time for everything, Sir." Pascal reported back in military posture: hands back and chest high. "Our ancestors did not pioneer the art of familiars through tradition."

"Right you are. However, I hope you planned to face the same scrutiny and examination that they did."

"What kind of examination, Sir?" Pascal couldn't sound less thrilled.

"We will need to assess the humanity of your familiar, to determine that she brings no health risks or magical dangers from faraway lands, and to tag her for periodic checks to monitor the resulting long-term effects."

"I understand, Sir. But I can do that myself." His tone was on the verge of protesting.

Kaede loved how they were talking about her -- not just in third person, but as though an experimental specimen -- when she stood within this very room:

"Headmaster Sir, don't I have rights as a human being for any say in this?"

The helmet leaned forward, and Kaede envisioned a skeletal lich behind it as a voice far colder than any human responded:

"No, Miss Familiar. You are neither a citizen of this country nor a holder of lawfully issued identification. Furthermore, you were summoned by a mage through his contractual ritual. In the eyes of our national laws, you are an non-entity who is only recognized as part of his responsibility. You are not property, but due to the lack of legal precedence, you are not far above it either."

Kaede felt like a trap door just opened below her. Her mind stopped all thinking as an impenetrable horror overwhelmed it.

Sitting back, the headmaster continued:

"As for you, Sir von Moltewitz, the answer is no. A third party validation is required per academic procedure."

Pascal cast a worried glance her way, before turning back to the shadowy grill that hid the headmaster's expression:

"I neither need nor care for academic recognition for this, Sir. In fact, I invoke my rights as a feudal noble to assert that she is my right and responsibility, Sir!"

For a minute, all signs of passing time stopped as the room froze in the wake of his challenge. Then, it was Professor Albert who cleared his throat from a rear corner of the room:

"Sir von Moltewitz, I suggest you reconsider. As you are still, in the eyes of the law, one year short of maturity, any repercussions for your actions will therefore fall under the responsibility of your father the Landgrave."

Pascal visibly flinched as his father was mentioned.

"I understand, Sir. But I must also take responsibility for my ward, to my ward, for what I have done to her." Pascal's unwavering tone snapped Kaede out of her daze, now staring at him with a gaping expression plastered on. "Having witnessed the procedures allowed on prisoners-of-war, I cannot allow the same to be forced upon her in good conscience!"

After being raised from the depths of despair, Kaede suddenly felt her sight growing blurry. Not only was Pascal backing his promise to the full before her, but he was, in his roundabout way, finally admitting and apologizing for the injustice he committed against her.

Surprisingly, it was Professor Albert who followed up in the contest of will between Pascal and the headmaster:

"With your permission, Sir, I would like to advise Sir von Moltewitz in performing the proper checks to ensure that no disaster befall us. I shall also shoulder any responsibility from his errors under my oversight."

Silence fell upon the room again, and Kaede could almost feel the shifting air pressure as two invisible forces dueled one another for supremacy. In the end, it was the headmaster who gave in first:

"Very well," he finalized in his raspy voice. "See to it that history does not repeat itself."

Once back in the hallway, Pascal asked his adviser with lingering disbelief still dangling from his words:

"Sir, this is the first time you have supported an independent action of mine in... anything!"

"Well, this is the first time you've shown a willingness to make amends with your own foolishness." Professor Albert sounded a touch surprised himself.

"What does the headmaster mean by history not repeating itself?"

"See, if you had done your research in human-to-human binding, you would have known that there is an unspoken taboo on pact magic between Hyperiens and Samarans. Because five hundred years ago, a successful Inner Sea trading magnate and his Samaran partner signed a binding magical contract, which somehow unleashed the epidemic known as the Great Eldritch Plague. The pandemic spread from mage to mage by mere proximity of spell auras, and killed a third of the noblemen across Hyperion before a cure was developed."

"But..."

"--You know as well as I do that taboo or not, the profit margins will continue to entice merchants in exploring reliable business between the east and west," Professor Albert continued after cutting Pascal off. "No sweeping plagues have shown themselves for three centuries, so that one precedence must have been an act of god or freak of nature. Headmaster Sir von Bloomberg mostly just wants an excuse to force his way into cutting-edge arcane research, which he can easily take credit for since you're both a minor and a student. Remember to do your homework thoroughly next time so you don't give someone else the opportunity to interfere."

"Nevertheless, thank you, Sir." Pascal answered, followed by a still-overwhelmed Kaede mirroring his gratitude.

The professor, however, never so much looked at her. After a nod of acknowledgment to Pascal, he walked off:

"I expect your preliminary report by tomorrow morning, Sir von Moltewitz. Assume nothing, confirm! And don't forget your first research project checkpoint next Friday!"

----- * * * -----

Dinner included a gourmet shepherd's pie and chicken soup, which Kaede desperately ate to warm her soul back up.

She didn't even notice that Pascal's chicken broth was chowder-like, and still smelled distinctively of beer.

It wasn't until after they returned to his dorms when she regained the energy to breach the topic again:

"Was that your first time meeting the headmaster?"

"No. I have met him quite a few times... for various things." Pascal didn't seem interested in explaining.

"Why does he wear all that in his office?" Sitting on the bed, Kaede shivered as she remembered that cold, raspy voice informing her that she had no more rights than mere property.

"Headmaster Sir von Bloomberg has not shown his face in years. Rumors have it that he caught leprosy from some magical experiment and was forced to retired from the army's research division."

"Still... uh, Pascal?"

"Yes?" He urged without looking at Kaede, as he continued to rush about the room, either collecting or setting up various pieces of equipment.

"Thank you, for what you did. I really mean it."

"You may want to hold onto that thought until after I run through all the checks, which will involve prodding some private places."

As soon as Kaede realized what he meant and looked away in embarrassment, Pascal knelt down on one knee before her. Gently taking her left hand and folding back her sleeve, he raised what looked like a small syringe before readying it against her skin. The needle entered her arm with a sting, and he soon began to draw blood from her.

What came out was a crystal clear liquid, tinged only by a shade of pink.

Unlike her, Pascal calmly finished the procedure and pulled out the needle before he froze.

Both of them stared at the syringe that held transparent blood the color of cotton candy.

"W-what does this mean?" Kaede heard her own voice from far away.

"It means that you really are Samaran, or at least your body is. Only they have transparent blood. The color is supposed to be a crystal light red, but this is not far from the expected spectrum."

"And w-what does that mean?"

After laying the syringe on a bedside table, Pascal leaned forward and clasped Kaede on both shoulders. His turquoise gaze pulled her rose-quartz eyes up, before his blank expression continued with earnest words:

"The Samarans believe in reincarnation, born in this life after their last passed away. I cannot confirm or deny since I am not one of them, but they all claim to retain shards, fragments, images and memories of past lives. Some even claim that those memories are often not of this world."

Her mind stood still even at the green light, refusing to process the implications of his words.

"A-and that means...?"

"If what they claim is correct, then Kaede, I did not turn you into a girl. Rather than transform, my familiar spell may have created a humanoid form which hijacked a soul departing from another world. Kaede, it is likely that -- in that other world, you died."

Stunned, she could only shake her head slowly, eyes pointing but not seeing.

"I am sorry to tell you this, Kaede. But it is a truth that we must face. It would certainly explain why your soul was naturalized anew in our world, rather than coming here in an alien body. Perhaps it was part of the Holy Father's plans all along. Perhaps you were meant to live as a girl."

By that point, her gaping expression already stilled into a delicate statue. Pascal figured this was as good a time to begin as any, even as a faint grin tugged at his inexpressible lips.

...

Thirty minutes and an unknown number of observations and measurements later, her head finally started cranking again:

"That can't be right! I don't just remember fragments; I have all my prior memories. Besides that doesn't explain how my bow and clothes got through!"

Pascal shrugged as he stirred a potion vial that included several strands of her hair.

"Don't jump to a conclusion just because it removes blame from you!" She glared, seething. Being told that she had died was another shock she could have gone without this day.

"I did not say it is what happened. I merely said it was a likely scenario." His focus was still concentrated on the vial, his poker face impenetrable.

Kaede huffed and collapsed back into the bed.

"Do not bother getting too comfortable. I need an urine sample from you soon," Pascal noted, only to receive a groan in response.

Sitting back up, Kaede pouted towards the corner closet door that held the heavy chamber pot. Leaning against the wall next to it, there was now a pile of treated wood, packed cotton, and velvet fabrics.

"Is that..."

"Materials for fabricating a bed? Yes. I retrieved it from the quartermaster this morning," Pascal commented as he scrutinized the vial's color change. "Although, since you have taken all my free time, and I have a busy week ahead, especially with the project checkpoint on Friday..." he looked over with a Cheshire grin: "I think you should just get used to warming my bed."

If looks could kill, Pascal wouldn't have left even a speck of dust.

Kaede realized that perhaps the greatest struggle of her new life was wrestling with the daily urge to beat him senseless.

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Forward to Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - A Peaceful Day

With his top button on, Pascal put the medal around his neck and pinned it into place, then flipped down his collars. Adjusting it carefully, he made sure the gleaming black Knight's Cross outlined in white gold was perfectly centered. Staring back at the dresser mirror, he examined the dashing grin that looked back at himself before giving it a nod of approval.

He spun his heels around in their leather boots before walking around the bed.

Today was the first time that Pascal saw Kaede's sleeping face. Even inside the warm dormitory keep, the small girl snuggled into the thick comforter with only her head exposed. Turned to the side, her canary-white hair scattered across her gentle sleeping face, peaceful except for the dark outlines under her eyes.

Another stab of guilt sunk into his chest, but Pascal steeled himself and shook her through the bedcovers.

There was no response, so he did it again.

"Come on, wake up already," he called after the fifth time, finally eliciting a response:

"Uhhhhnnnnn?"

"I said wake up."

Two small hands emerged from the bedcovers to rub her eyes.

"Talk about a heavy sleeper..."

"C-couldn't give me a few more minutes?" Kaede yawned as her thin arms stretched out, her eyes still closed. "I couldn't sleep till like three-something..."

"Sleep earlier then. I have already given you leeway today. You need to wake up at the same time as everyone else when I go campaigning."

Her rose-quartz eyes finally opened, highlighting the shadows below them as her cherry lips formed a scowl.

Pascal slowly waved his hand over her while he whispered the Refreshen spell. Her countenance instantly grew less pale, the bags under her eyes disappearing while a healthy tinge of pink returned to her cheeks.

Maybe he overdid it a little. Kaede looked like she was sporting an disgruntled blush.

Kind of cute, actually, Pascal smiled.

"Better. Now, dress up and remember your research tasks today. Get up earlier tomorrow if you want breakfast -- I cannot wait any longer; morning practice in fifteen. Anyhow, I will see you at lunch."

With that, Pascal went straight out the door.

----- * * * -----

"...What's that commoner girl doing here? This is a prestigious library!"

"Orders from the Runelord, who else? Must have gotten her special treatment..."

"...She's still blushing? Has she no shame?"

Kaede swore that the familiars' whole 'eyes and ears' concept made her senses more keen than necessary. She couldn't even concentrate with all the whispering that reached her ears.

It was a Monday morning, but a few dozen people occupied the library nonetheless. They all looked like senior students if not research assistants working on a project. Most of these mages completely ignored her, but just a few gossiping mouths were more than enough to irritate.

"Hey, familiar girl," a tall lady with long, golden-blond curls slammed her palms into the desk. "Tell you master to keep you on a shorter leash. You're an eyesore here by yourself. This is a nobles' academic sanctuary, not a whorehouse!"

Kaede flipped another page.

"Are you listening, you ignorant commoner!?"

Kaede finally tilted her head and looked upwards with half-open eyes that barely cared:

"Pascal says you're a blithering idiot and that I should ignore you. I think I agree."

The noblewoman looked like her face was about to spontaneously combust and explode.

Kaede went back to reading, or trying to...

"Listen here you little bitch, I don't care if your master reserved this desk. You get the hell out of here or I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve, do I make myself clear?"

"Ah, that is Lisel von Straussen." Pascal's voice popped into her head. "Talk about pot calling kettle black, that tramp of a golddigger has the brain capacity to attack you when she can barely scrub two cells together for a passing grade?"

"You're not helping, Pascal; and could you knock before tapping in like this?"

"Tell her that--"

"Look, they may be afraid to challenge the Runelord to a duel, but if I keep it up after dropping your name and them still not relenting, they're going to challenge me."

"So give them the beatdown you showed me. They will not even see it coming." Pascal sounded oddly proud.

What, just like you did? Kaede amused herself before sending back:

"Precisely. Most of them probably believe I'm just a pushover familiar girl who surprised you with a punch that got over-exaggerated or something -- Ariadne does harbor a very public grudge against you after all. I'd prefer it if they kept thinking that way.

"Not bad at all. Pascal's reply rang with approval, and Kaede wondered if he was really being impulsive, or if he was just testing her.

Sighing, Kaede stood up from her chair, piled her book plus three others into a small stack, and left without a word.

Whatever, not like I can concentrate in here anyway.

Without someone she was friendly with -- or at least getting friendly with -- Kaede didn't exactly feel comfortable around new people or places. With her books in hand, she headed back to the dormitories, ignoring the noblewoman's departing screech.

She felt the disdain of the librarian's glance as she walked past.

Yeah yeah, I'm just a commoner, foreigner at that. Get used to it, you prissy nobles.

Kaede rather missed having Pascal's you're-all-idiots attitude shield them from the rest of the world. Sure, his downcast eyes were annoying. But a roomful of nobles hitching their arrogant noses at her made that seem a paradise by comparison.

----- * * * -----

After another lunch in the dining hall with Pascal, Kaede returned to his room to continue her research. She found three interesting examples in history already, and each time Pascal tapped her senses directly to read in. The convenience was undeniable, but it was also annoying, not to mention bizarre to turn pages for a pair of eyes that served as someone else's camera.

Still, thrice was enough. By the third time, she finally told Pascal to ask first before reaching through her eyes and ears.

His reply was a defensive "all right, I promise!"

In the meantime, two other thoughts kept bouncing back to the fore of her mind:

Conclusion #1: Fantasy realms needed a magical version of the Internet, not to mention magical Google and Wikipedia. They could probably skip Magebook though. Information processing and networking spells couldn't be that hard when Pascal managed to tap into her own biological sensory network this easily.

Conclusion #2: She was rapidly becoming a shut-in, emerging only to retrieve food, books, plus fresh air, and conversing with barely more than one person per day. This was worrisome.

*Knock, knock*

The door then opened without waiting for a response. A petite young maid with short brown hair, the same who often served Pascal in the dining hall, backed into the room with a large cart in tow.

She almost dropped it when she turned around.

"I'm sorry Miss, the third years are taking a required course right now. I didn't actually expect anyone here."

Sitting on the bed in an orchid-pink dress, Kaede put down her book and returned a welcoming smile.

"Don't worry about it. My name is Kaede, what's yours?"

"Marina," she bowed. "I'm one of the two maids responsible for the third year students, Miss Kaede."

"Just Kaede is fine, not like I'm one of those noblemen."

"Ah, I've heard... that you were summoned from afar... as a familiar."

"That's right." Kaede tried not to make the maid Marina any more nervous, but all she managed to keep up was a wry smile. "Do you normally only clean when nobody is here?"

"Yes!" Marina nodded bit too eagerly. "The nobles do not appreciate seeing us common servants, so we try to be discrete whenever possible."

Thinking back to her dining hall experiences, Kaede remembered that Pascal never even acknowledged, let alone thanked, the servants who brought his food. Nor, for that matter, did most other nobles she saw, except...

"Ariadne seemed friendly with you all though."

Marina's lips finally curled upwards with a hint of joy.

"Miss von Zimmer-Manteuffel is one of the few nobles who do greet us with friendliness." Then, sighing: "unfortunately, she's a very rare minority; most of them pretend we don't exist."

"Stupid nobles with their raised oversized noses and squinty downcast eyes need to learn some respect," Kaede lashed out at opulent room she stayed in. Her gaze then returned to find Marina grinning back in silent and total agreement.

However, the maid's expression soon returned to one of sympathy and worry intermixed with curiosity:

"I also heard you gave Mister... I mean Sir von Moltewitz a beating? Did your master punish you any further than cutting meals? He was in a fouler mood than I've ever seen him yesterday morning, yet all better today."

Kaede's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs for a second. I swear, how do nobles keep any secrets from these servants?

"Yeah, a surprise kick to the crotch and he couldn't even defend himself, imagine that," Kaede lied with a totally unapologetic grin. "And not really, Pascal actually respected me more since then. Goes to show that we can't just take things lying down or these nobles will just see us as useless; have to push back whenever appropriate!"

For a brief second, Kaede thought Marina's eyes glittered in amazement. Within minutes, they were chatting like friends, gained through the power of complaining.

Marina had to return to her maid work soon after, and Kaede found herself deeply amused by what seemed to be a magical vacuum cleaner powered by ether-storing crystals. Not being a mage, Marina couldn't actually turn the appliance on or off, only manipulate its intake controls.

The same cleaner also had an enchanted nozzle for cleaning chamber pots.

Whatever modern thoughts Kaede had on the role, being a medieval maid, at least, was not a job that Kaede envied at all.

----- * * * -----

Pascal's last course of the day was held in the second drill hall. It was more of a stone amphitheater, but with a massive stage ringed by only two meager rows of benches. Advanced Spellsword Combat was an elective class open to upperclassmen and offered every semester, so at the moment only thirty-two noble cadets stood in formation.

It was also the only 100% practical course in the academy. Books, parchment, and quills weren't even allowed here. The only acceptable tools of teaching and learning were spells and swords.

"As you all know, the most commonly practiced combat magic style in Hyperion is Aura Magic, utilized for its multiple stances that shift and adapt to circumstances, as well as high spell acceleration which allows rapid ether transfer and spellcasting. However, contrary to many claims, the popularity of Aura Magic is not a sign of superiority. For example: Runic Magic may be a favorite of the barbaric Northmen, but its capacity for precast and contingent spells that may be activated in a second cannot be underestimated -- as many of you learned the hard way from Sir von Moltewitz."

Contrary to both his name and occupation, Professor Sir Siegfried von Kirchner looked anything but martial. At five-foot-two, he was shorter than most girls, and his clean-shaven, chubby cheeks left traits of a boyish appearance despite being in his fifties. But the Knight's Cross he wore was also set on an eight-pointed starburst -- the 'Twin-Starred Cross' which represented the highest distinction of battlefield valor in the Kingdom. As a master of multiple combat styles, anyone who underestimated his whimsical forest-green eyes were in for a painful lesson.

"...The key to winning lay not just in practice and experience, but a thorough understanding of the other styles' capabilities. Runic Magic may bring a large cache of prepared spells that may be dumped into battle in an instant, but its glyphs only activate and target by touch. This hampers its offensive potential and allows a skilled Aura Magic user to keep his distance until he can level the playing field. Sir von Moltewitz, Mister von Witzig, would you be gracious enough to demonstrate."

Professor von Kirchner and the rest of the class quickly left the platform for the benches, leaving just Pascal and the fiery-haired Reynald on stage. Both of them had agreed heartily to the professor's request, but neither of them looked thrilled as they confronted one another.

"What's wrong, Runelord, cold feet in the face of superiority?" Reynald smirked a savage grin as he lowered the mass of his already short, five-foot-four stature even further, one wooden kukri held in each hand.

Pascal never even bothered to respond; his steely gaze met the challenge with an imperturbable poker face. His wooden courtblade -- a heavy rapier -- held in a classic fencing stance.

"You may begin!" Professor von Kirchner's crisp words rang like the bell.

Leaping forward, Pascal charged Reynald without delay, his blade thrusting forward and slashing downwards. At the same time, his left hand stretched out with fingers extended, triggering a contingency effect as four rune-engraved pebbles materialized into his hand from the extra-dimensional storage glove. They activated less than a second later, surrounding Pascal with the invisible aura of his anti-projectile Repulse Field, five rotating turquoise shields of his auto-blocking Spellshield Fortress, and the unseen plates of his weightless Barrier Armor, which grew translucent as the counterspell-warding Barrier Guard layered onto it.

With four powerful defensive enhancements set in the blink of an eyes, Pascal could focus his attention completely on offense. But after three leaps back which avoided Pascal's repeated attacks, Reynald flashed to the other side of the platform in a bolt of lightning, literally.

"Armor Aura Burst!" the redhead called, sending out a depressurized wave of air as he used his aura stance switch to conjure an invisible suit of magic armor. Reynald then crossed his twin kukris before his eyes, while Pascal activated the second four buffs of his usual defensive array, followed by scattering an entire bag of runic pebbles across the arena.

With the field under his control, Pascal charged again. Reynald then unleashed the crimson magic pumped into his practice weapons with a set of Ancient Draconic words: "Scorch-Ether, Catalyst Fragmentation Dispel!"

Burst-mode Aura Magic was known for having the highest spell acceleration of all casting styles, but it had a high tendency to overwhelm the nerve conduits and leave the body numb. Prolonged use could even lead to temporary and permanent paralysis.

The X-shaped fire blast sucked in atmosphere like a black hole as it soared towards Pascal. His Repulse Field popped like a bubble under a gargantuan hammer. One of his turquoise shields then met the attack, breaking into three pieces under its power but shattering the offensive spell. Yet instead of dispersing, Reynald's dispel fragmented into four parts that pierced into Pascal's translucent armor. The entire suit glowed as Barrier Guard fought to maintain the defense, but collapsed in futility less than two seconds later. Not done with its job, the shards of fiery-red magic then penetrated Pascal himself.

The Runelord staggered. Steam began to pour from his sizzling body as hostile antimagic crashed against his ether network. His second set of four self-buffs backfired, fueling the hostile incursion as Elemental Body of Earth, Shift Impulse, Sensory Clarity, and Metabolic Boost transformed into volatile ether. His speed broke as his teeth clenched down in pain.

A second lightning-transformation put Reynald just behind the distracted Pascal. Coming out in a spin, his dual kukris struck the Runelord like twin rotor blades, bringing the latter to his knees.

"Stop!" the professor called out. "Thank you, Sir von Moltewitz. Mister von Witzig, please escort him to..."

Kneeling on all fours and panting in pain did not stop Pascal from cutting in:

"I am fine, Sir."

Professor von Kirchner nodded before turning back to the class:

"The four-part spell Mister von Witzig just used is the bane of Runic Magic users' tendency to over-buff themselves. Dispel is your classic antimagic spell, and Catalyst allows it to push through multiple defenses in an increasingly-powerful cascading chain reaction. Fragmentation gives it a chance to break past even the most powerful dispel-warding barriers, and Scorch-Ether not only boosts penetration power, but also makes certain that the final impact leaves a stunning impression."

"To win, you must be flexible, you must be adaptive. Think on your feet and respond accordingly, and Aura Magic will deliver your punches and bring home victory!"

...

An hour later near the end of class, after Pascal properly restored his health, Reynald accosted him again in the benches:

"Up for a real duel that isn't pre-scripted this time? Doesn't exactly please me any to win a fixed match."

"Of course," Pascal grunted as he stood back up, still sore all over. "You know I could have easily dodged that blast."

"We'll see," Reynald sneered back.

----- * * * -----

"So... where's my bed?" Kaede didn't even bother taking her eyes off her book.

"In Phantasia," Pascal grumbled before climbing into bed, snuggling just close enough without touching her. "Ugh my back still hurts; that Reynald is unnaturally good at dueling... you think someone stupid and gullible enough to fall for every propaganda piece would not be a spellsword genius."

"His holiness is fair," she replied, her casual eyes still reading. "With one noodly appendage he giveth, with the other he taketh away."

Pascal just stared at her for a few seconds, then waved the light off:

"Your world is crazy."

Sighing, Kaede pulled down the bookmark string, closed the tome, and laid it on her bedside table.

One night he'll learn to ask first.

...Like that, another day passed in the new world. The rest of the week went by the same way, except after Friday's afternoon chat-break, Kaede was sure she could now consider Marina a new friend, therefore averting or at least delaying her 'shut-in' crisis.

----- * * * -----

"You still haven't managed it?" The new chief groundskeeper snarled, a yeoman -- commoner of the first class -- mage hired only two weeks ago to fill a vacancy left when his predecessor died in an accident.

"I'm sorry," Marina trembled, her eyes nailed to his feet. "Kaede... his familiar girl is in his room all day. It's hard to do it without being noticed, so I'm trying to gain her trust."

"Well, you have one more week. If we miss the deadline and our lord is punished by the Emperor, it will be on your hands girl. I certain do not wish to be deemed a worthless security risk by that squad of killers in town," he warned before departing from the shadowy alcove where he cornered her.

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