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Maid-Of-Curse

Trapped in an opulent mansion and adorned in a medieval dress, Eydis the maid (or Amelia, homeless in her modern world), the reigning queen of snark, grapples with a unique ability – her thoughts burst forth like fireworks. No magic, just relentless noise, a gift bestowed by none other than the wicked witches of the woods. Now, armed with daggers of sarcasm and a penchant for mischief, and a seductive allure, Eydis plunges into a convoluted tapestry of secrets. She deftly sidesteps shadows, untangles the threads of her own forgotten past, and battles to quiet the chorus in her head before everything erupts. Can a girl without magic outsmart witches, monsters, nobles flaunting well-endowed magical abilities, a roommate who despises her, to rewrite prophecies, and uncover the truth about her vanished life, all before everything descends into chaos? Author's note: prominently GL (slow burn), but also features all kind of loves. - The smut will feature organically in later chapters, this isn’t a smut-centric work.

CosmicTapestry · LGBT+
Pas assez d’évaluations
66 Chs

Amelia Kruger

Natalia's voice, laced with icy frustration, cut through the air like a winter wind. Eydis, mid-stride, froze, the echo of her friend's words sending a shiver down her spine. She pivoted slowly, meeting the gaze of her three companions, each face etched with a mixture of hurt and unspoken accusation.

"Seems we have some things to discuss," Natalia stated, her jaw clenched tight.

Eydis swallowed, the weight of their disapproval settling heavy in her chest. "Yes," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper. "I suppose we do."

Natalia stepped closer, her eyes narrowed. "Were you... upset with us? About our reaction to, well, His Highness' romantic inclinations?"

"No," Eydis responded promptly, observing relief wash over her friend's face, "I'm just... reevaluating my perspective."

Colete, her face drawn with concern, chimed in. "Eydis, please, don't misunderstand. We never meant for you to—"

"Change your mind?" Birgit finished, her voice barely audible. "We all have our own beliefs, and you shouldn't feel pressured to conform just because we disagree."

Eydis studied their faces, each etched with a disappointment that mirrored the turmoil in her own heart. "It wasn't love I was questioning," she said finally, her voice laced with a newfound resolve. "It was everything I thought I knew. All this time, I've been clinging to blind assumptions, judging an entire class of people based on whispers and prejudices. And in doing so, I hurt you. And for that, I am truly sorry."

A stunned silence descended upon the group, broken only by the chirping of birds in the morning air. Birgit's eyes, wide and searching, met Eydis's. "So," she asked hesitantly, "what is this new perspective you've found?"

Eydis smiled, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "Let's just say," she said, plucking a stray pebble from the ground and flipping it into the air, "that heads and tails might not be the only options anymore."

And that earned her a lot of confusion from her friends. Eydis laughed, continuing her journey, albeit at a slower pace for her friends to follow.

**

 

"To master the art of wielding magic," Professor Hawthorne's voice, rich and resonant, echoed through the hall, "one must delve deep into the whispers of mana. This potent force, woven into the very fabric of our being, awaits those who cultivate a profound mind-body connection."

He paused, letting his words settle over the attentive students. Each held a unique aura, a spectrum of colours shimmering subtly around their forms, reflecting their nascent magical potential.

Eydis, however, sat poised on the edge of her bench, a flicker of unease in her eyes. The intimacy of the exercise, the vulnerability it demanded, held her back. Glancing around, she saw similar trepidation stirring among the other commoners, their faces etched with a mix of curiosity and hesitation.

Later, seeking solace in the vibrant embrace of the summer garden, Eydis watched butterflies dance on sunbeams and bees hum their industrious tune. The scene, strangely familiar, triggered a memory from her travels in Thailand – a hushed temple, monks with tranquil faces whispering instructions about listening to the world's heartbeat. The parallels were undeniable. Mana training, with its focus on the whispers of nature, seemed to be seeking the same thing – a bridge between self and environment, a gateway to harnessing the potent magic thrumming within the world.

A fascinating fact resonated in her memory: research suggested that deep meditation could impact brainwave patterns associated with higher cognitive function. Could this suggest a chapter in human evolution where, rather than being creations of God, humans harnessed such power through science during a pivotal period of war, forcing a reconnection with nature?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the garden, Eydis knew she had a choice to make. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty. But this world, by design, was problematic. This wasn't just about unlocking magic, or seeking equality. It was about unlocking everyone out of their gilded cage, noble and commoners alike.

One thing was certain: progress was inevitable. 

**

A click, a whirr, and the door surrendered with a sigh. Moonlight spilled onto the meticulously organised workspace, casting long shadows across the stacks of research papers and shimmering Etherium crystals.

Eydis had gone through the dean's mountain of research papers, each one a testament to the dean's relentless pursuit of artificial mana. Yet, a significant obstacle loomed in his path: the challenge of stabilising this synthetic energy.

While natural mana were guided by an intelligence, its artificial counterpart grappled with adaptability. Dean Swans came up with a solution, a system he named Magical Resonance Interface (MRI), a system that imbued synthetic mana with the adaptability it sorely lacked. It scanned, it whispered instructions to the Etherium crystals, coaxing them to dance to the rhythm of nature. It was elegant, a sonnet in logic, yet within its symphony, a discordant note thrummed,

The code, a fortress of brilliance, was chained to its own magnificence, trapped within the parameters it aimed to transcend. Dean Swans, in his iron grip on control, had forged a cage, not a cradle. A smirk danced on Eydis' lips, the embers of youthful mischief fanned to a flame. This wasn't just a scientific riddle; it was a canvas begging for a splash of chaos.

Memories flickered – her teenage infiltration of the NSA, a naive crusade for transparency ended up with disillusionment. Her once noble pursuits warped into adrenaline-fueled escapades, leaving their scars etched on her soul. Roses and moonlight couldn't erase that darkness, but here, in the hum of forbidden magic and the clatter of rebel code, hope whispered of a different future.

Not with idealism, but with audacity. This wasn't just hacking a machine; it was hacking fate, carving a path through the unknown. Hubris, perhaps. A world poised to shatter and burn. But the fight for dominance wouldn't stop for her complacency.

So who was she to deny the inevitable of happenstance? 

**

"Absolutely not!" Dean Swans barked, his fist rapping against the oak desk. Eydis, unfazed, took another bite of his apple, the crunch echoing in the hushed office.

"Relax, Dean," she chirped, her smile a sly crescent. "It'll work, trust me."

The dean, a titan in the realm of magic research, frowned. "Planting a virus? Miss Eydis, don't tell me it's some notion of using poisons to counteract poisons?"

Anticipating his scepticism, Eydis countered, Eydis smirked, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Poisons and vaccines, same difference, right? Except this 'virus' ain't meant to harm, more like...coach."

The dean shook his head in disbelief, "Just what is a vaccine? And what exactly do you mean by coaching?"

"See," Eydis leaned forward, eyes flashing, "your precious system, all code and data, it's stuck in its tracks. Rigid, brittle. It can't learn, adapt, dance with the chaos of nature." Eydis explained, conveniently sidestepping her slip up.

"Learning?" Dean Swans asked, eyes widened in surprise.

Eydis smirked, observing her words slowly resonating with him. Taking another bite of his apple, she continued, "Your MRI, no longer a brick in the wall, but a living vine, twisting, growing, learning from its own stumbles. Like this apple," she waved the core, "sweet and crunchy, but not until countless trials and errors by humans, right?"

He narrowed his eyes, the analogy striking a chord. "My system thrives on control, Miss Eydis. Injecting chaos is..."

"Evolution," she finished, her voice ringing with conviction. "The virus wouldn't destroy, but challenge. Forcing MRI to constantly scan its code, fix loopholes, adap to the unpredictable pulse of nature. Think of it as...immunity."

The dean sank back into his chair, the tension crackling in the air. This was madness, a gamble that could shatter his life's work. Yet, amidst the fear, a spark of excitement flickered. it was a necessary risk, embodying a brilliant plan. Who was Eydis, really?

"May I see this...virus?" he finally asked, his voice low.

Eydis grinned, a glint of steel in her eyes. "Thought you'd never ask."

As he delved into the intricacies of the code, lines melding in a mesmerizing blur before his eyes, the dean came to a profound realization—they weren't merely dissecting an algorithm. Instead, they were peering into the very core of creation, witnessing the delicate interplay between control and chaos, where the seeds of tomorrow lay intricately hidden. Though these codes were of his creation, in just two months at the academy, she wielded them as if they were her own.

In the enigma of this unassuming girl, once his student and now his unexpected teacher, questions swirled. Was she merely his unofficial assistant, or the harbinger of a revolution he hadn't dared to envision? The answer, much like the future woven from this audacious code, remained tantalizingly elusive. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, one undeniable truth emerged—the game had irrevocably shifted, and Eydis now held the dice, ready to roll.