Life at the Manor

She led Asher out of the store, waving goodbye as he raced down the street like a mother would do to her child as he went off to play in the world. She finished putting away her things and grabbed a long white cloak from her closet. As she left, she locked up the shop before walking to the city's edge, where a carriage and some horses were waiting.

"Are you ready, Witch?" A rough-looking man spoke as he stepped out of the shadows. His eyes glowed from under his dark hood.

"The last person who called me that is dead. I recommend you don't continue unless you want to join him." Cynthia did not speak in her usual warm self, but in a polite cold way, like a person would passive-aggressively talk to someone inferior.

"Whatever. Witch." In the second, a gust of wind shot forward, cleanly cleaving the man's arm from his body. It fell limp on the floor as the man double-over in pain. He opened his mouth to yell from the pain. But vines came from nowhere and gagged him.

Cynthia leaned down so she was eye-to-eye with the man. "Now. Now. Screaming would only make trouble for everyone." A smile was the only expression on her face, and it looked no different than a mother comforting a child.

A second man, who was petite and skinny compared to the first, rushed from the front of the carriage and pleaded with Cynthia, "No, you can't kill him. He knows better now, and please ease forgive him."

Cynthia patted the skinny man on the head as a mother would do to her child. "I am sure he has." She leaned over, picked up the blood-stained arm, and walked over to the man before mercilessly jamming the severed halves together. It was so painful that it caused the well-built man to form tears in his eyes.

Cynthia waved her hand over the wound as a soft emerald glow pulsed in her palm like a heartbeat. When she stepped back, the arm looked like it had never been removed, and the vines gagging the man receded into the darkness like snakes. She leaned over to the man, still on his knees, and whispered in his ear, "Next time, I keep the arm."

Cynthia straightened up and regally carried herself to the front of the carriage. "I hope you boys don't mind if I ride in the front. It is a lovely night for a ride." Her voice had returned to its gentle and kind tone, and this tone was so frightening to the two men that they shuttered at how quickly her attitude changed.

They exchanged a silent look of worry before climbing into the carriage. The short man sat at the reins with Cynthia next to him, and the large man climbed into the back, still rubbing where his arm was cut. The short man flicked the reins causing the horses to lead the carriage out of the city and into the gloomy, dark, moonlit forest.

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Meanwhile, Asher was blissfully unaware of the events that had transpired as he reached the manor grounds. Asher had gotten accustomed to using his hidden back entrance to the point that he instinctively knew where it was hidden. A bar was missing from the cast iron fence that encircled the manor grounds, and it was just big enough for Asher to squeeze through and was covered on both sides by the overgrowth of bushes.

Unfortunately, Asher's home life drastically changed from his time before the awakening. To keep up the ruse of his mana sickness, Asher was isolated and confined to one wing of the manor. The staff was prohibited from entering unless they had special permission, and Asher now had to wear a long robe with a hood that hid his face and body when he wasn't in his wing.

Mana sickness causes black vein-like marks to appear all over the body from where the mana burns its way through the body. Since Asher didn't have those marks, he had to ensure that no one looked at him too closely. Asher would hide in the bushes and wait for guards to pass before dashing into one of the servant entrances on the side of the man building. Then he used passageways to move through the house unseen before slipping out, grabbing his stashed rob, and continuing to his room.

Asher felt it was a little too easy to sneak out, given some of the lengths that had been taken to conceal the truth, but for now, Asher had enough freedom, so he wasn't going to complain. When he reached his room, a food tray waited outside the door. The staff was instructed to leave his food for breakfast and lunch outside his room rather than go in and check on him. They claimed that sickness had taken its toll, and he needed as much rest as possible while they looked for a doctor that would never come.

Asher would take the tray into his room. He would eat a little from whatever hard thing he found and throw some out the window into the garden below when he thought no one was looking. It appeared that he was too weak to breakfast but would force himself to at least try to eat. His bed was stuffed with pillows, so if anyone peaked in, they would see a human shape that could have been Asher.

Asher had begun to dislike staying at the manor. It was once a vibrant place where he would have adventure after adventure, but now it felt more and more similar to a princess trapped in a tower. The world was vast, and he had only just begun exploring the ins and outs. Returning to a place where it felt like he was just pushed to the side every day was more draining than not.

Asher made sure not to eat much from the cold tray of food, but just enough that it looked like he ate it. He was leaving some of the bread uneaten or the fruit untouched. He threw most of it out so no one would get suspicious, but not enough that it would spoil the warm dinner that would be coming.

His room was cluttered with books and dust. No one was allowed in here; most days, he was gone. The room would rarely be cleaned. The books were gifts his father had gotten on magic from various theories about his elements. Asher understood that it would have been too risky for Asher Richt, the not-actually-sickly son of the duke, to have a formal-magic tutor, but for the commoner Veras Loki, it was commonplace. Asher had to applaud himself for that stroke of genius.

On the other hand, Jude had a formal tutor named Julianus Schor. He was an omnimage from the capital, which was well known for having excellent pupils who would make big names for themselves. The guy was a stuffy older man who took himself a little bit too seriously. Jule's instructor had one of the many rooms converted into a classroom setting with a desk and a chalkboard. They would spend hours locked away as he lectured about magic. Asher much preferred Cynthia's causal way of teaching him over tea.

Working in her shop, he learned more about addressing problems involving magic rather than thinking the only solution was magic. One customer had come in with a pretty nasty-looking burn caused by a fire element creature. Asher thought giving him a healing potion was the way, but Cynthia pointed out that the burn was only surface-deep and did not break the skin, so bandages and non-magic ointment were all needed.

She always told him to consider how his action would affect the people and environment as overuse of magic could become detrimental. Meanwhile, Mr. Lufund practically worships the ground that Jude walked on. Everything with him is Jude is great, and Jude is the rightful duke heir. The praises began to inflate Jude's already large ego to the point that Asher started entirely avoiding him because of how unbearably cocky he had become.

Cynthia told Asher that people with more elements would need more time to gather aetheric essences. A hexamage like him should take a month or so, while an Omnimage who good talent could take upward of three months to reach the same level. So it meant that while Asher was ready to start forming his core, Jude probably had a ways to go before he cast his first spell.

It was like watching an ugly peacock strut around like he was god's gift to earth. Asher settled down at his desk and placed his notebook from his inventory on the table. Asher reached the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled out his coded notebook. Asher had been adding information to it since he could hold a pen.

Thankfully, that language does not exist in this world, so anyone else would not be able to read it and only be able to look like pointless scribbles. Asher wrote down all his thoughts and ideas in the journal about the world around him so he could make sense of this world's extensive history, but recently it had become a way for Asher to keep track of his new ideas.

Asher just learned about channeling items, so he had several ideas to take advantage of. The water stylus meant he could only create water-based enchantments, but he had already thought about several enchantments he could do with the items he already had. His main idea was to enchant his bow to make it so that it would use arrows made of water rather than actual arrows.

Asher wrote in the candlelight detailing how the item would function in his mind and noting what he needed to figure out before he could do it. The magic circle for water arrows, how to use the stylus, how to make the enchantment, and many other problems formed in his head. Asher let out a sigh. The more he thought about it, the more complicated it seemed.

He had watched Cynthia make enchantments several times. It was like watching an artist drawing a masterpiece. Her stylus would seem to know where to go as if it was possessed, almost like it was alive. Every movement was poised and with such purpose, but to Asher, it looked like she was scratching the stylus over the edge of a sword.

Asher was snapped out of his thought by a knock at the door, followed by a voice called out. "Young Master?" Asher snapped his hood up, covering himself from view.

"Coming in," Asher quickly replied. The door flew upon, revealing Henry standing outside with a tray of hot food. Asher immediately relaxed because Henry had become the closest thing he had to a confidant in the entire manor. He was aware of the lie about his health and Asher sneaking out, and Asher assumed that he still had so much freedom because Henry had covered for him.

Henry quickly walked in stiffly and set the tray on one of the side tables. "Your dinner," Henry said bluntly. "Did you have a good outing?" Henry would always ask him this as he readied his tray.

"Yes, I was able to get an enchanting stylus today." These days Asher did not even try to hide much from Henry. To his knowledge, Henry still didn't know about his magic lessons, but he never wanted to stop him from leaving the manor grounds. Asher guessed he must have pitied him given that he was now treated like he had the plague in the manor.

"I see. So you are going to take up enchanting. It would be best if you were careful. It is not uncommon for a poorly made magic item to explode." Henry warned as he placed the plate in front of Asher at his desk. "Silver fox steak with roasted mushroom and a gold onion garnish," Henry stated the name of the dish the chief had made.

"Isn't that a little fancy?" A silver fox was a monster with meat that tasted better than a perfect filet, and golden onions only grew in some dangerous areas. Both were the kind of thing that even a duke would eat for special occasions.

"The chief felt it was appropriate since your father is leaving for the Brenizarn Mountains tomorrow." Henry stated with no discernable tone.

"That's tomorrow." Asher was told that the king wanted his father to lead a campaign in the Brenizarn Mountian, but he didn't realize it would be so soon. "How long will the campaign be?"

"At least six months, no more than two years." Henry explained. "Will I need to give them a reason for your absence?" Henry was not asking Asher if he would miss; he was telling him that he should not go out tomorrow, but someone was listening. Henry always had a way of telling people things without directly saying them.

"You will not. I will be staying tomorrow so I will need an appropriate outfit. I will trust I can leave it to you." Asher spoke in his fake I-am-the-son-of-a-noble. This happened from time to time. One of the staff got too curious about the missing heir and tried to sneak into his room to investigate.

"Yes, young master, I will handle it." His face became grave. Over these four weeks, Asher learned quite a bit about Henry. Henry was a monomage with the sound element, meaning that his hearing could easily pick up a mouse from half a mile. He was so skilled that he could differentiate people on their heartbeat. It was also how he knew Asher was hiding on the night of the party.

Henry walked to the door and threw it open to find a scared maid standing there. "What is it?" The maid was not expecting Henry to show up as she was about to knock at the door.

"The Duke is calling you." The flustered maid blurted out. Henry nodded before waving his hand so the maid could scurry off.

"I will have everything ready for you tomorrow. There will be a large meal in the morning. Your father will leave at noon, and the lady wishes to visit the church after he leaves. Will that be all, young master?" Henry turned back to face Asher, but his eyes were still looking in the direction the maid ran.

"Yes that will be fine. The plate can be picked up in the morning." Asher spoke in his fake noble tone.

Henry bowed before walking out of the room. "For now please, enjoy your meal and then try to get some rest." Henry closed the door behind him and head to investigate what the lord needed. "That maid. I don't remember her name." Henry scratched his chin. As Head of Staff, he should know everyone, but he was old, and there was so many workers at the manor. He made sure to memorize what she looked like so he could find her later to ask some questions.