Ciao!

The sun hung high in the sky, casting its radiant light over the bustling city below. It was a great day for a robbery in broad daylight.

(Warning: Don't actually rob anyone in daylight, unless you're bored.)

"Hey! Stop that thief!"

Concealed beneath a worn, black cloak, a wisp of long chestnut hair danced in the wind, unnoticed by all except its owner. Amidst the panic of nearby folk, a brave and righteous fellow sees the commotion. Leading with his right arm, the good samaritan hurls himself at the criminal.

"Woah now! That was close!" A young man's voice emerged from beneath the hood, a glint from a gem-laden necklace capturing the sunlight, its shimmer echoing another voice, more subdued and distorted.

Swiftly evading the oncoming tackle, the thief glided through the crowd and continued without a pause in their run. The chase continued as minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Yet, the pursuer could only slowly lose pace.

Finally, the thief came to a halt as guards emerged from the sidelines. The man behind the thief yells again in a mixture of fatigue and desperation, "W-wait!" *huff* "Guards! Please catch that rascal! I'm too… tired…"

Men covered in light armour and armed with spears reacted to the plea. With the guards closing in, the thief stood still, a smile playing on their lips. Laughter emanates in a playful tone as they dash to an alley.

"Until next time, Mr Barnaby!"

Turning around, the thief scales the entire wall, using ledges the width of fingertips to carry themselves into stable footing before lunging over towards the roof and standing at the precipice.

"Not again!" Barnaby yells.

"Calm down or you'll give yourself a heart attack!" With a flick of the wrist, an apple gets thrown into the air and caught with a bite by the thief. Before Barnaby could even utter another word, the thief gave a fingered salute. "Buon viaggio!"

[~&~]

"Phew! That was exciting!"

A hood slipped down, revealing a cascade of long brown hair and eyes that spiralled from brown into deep black. Sweat dripped from a young woman's face, glistening as it got wiped off with a swift motion from her hand.

As she starts fiddling with the necklace, her voice normalizes from its modified form. "He was a bit more persistent than last time. Barnaby really should consider exercising more—"

"I'll let him know about your advice."

"Gyah!"

Startled by the sudden voice, the girl jolted and flings her necklace forward, only to be caught midair with seemingly no one holding it.

The brown-haired girl relaxes and pouts at the sight. "...Cassie, please don't scare me like that. How did you even find me?"

The air before her started to shimmer, gradually taking on the shape of another woman. One with short straight black hair, purple eyes and an attendant's outfit consisting of a black ribbon on their neck, black form-fitting pants, a brown vest and a white long-sleeved shirt.

"Iselle, I always know where you are. It's not a power or anything, I already have my 'Blend' ability. I just have a knack for finding you anywhere. Also, you should really stop talking to yourself."

"It's a good habit!" Iselle protests before crossing her arms. "Anyways, aren't you supposed to be working in the guild, convincing someone to slay small lizards or pull weeds for a measly sum of 5 Krowns?"

Cassie chuckled. "Actually, we only offer 3 Krowns for weed-pulling."

Iselle deadpanned at the response. "Uhuh… so why are you here?"

Pausing for a moment, Cassie held up the necklace, swaying it side-to-side. "I'm here for this. There's going to be an inventory check for goods."

"What?! But I thought you were going to let me borrow it for a few more days!"

Cassie shook her head, pocketing the necklace away. "I can't, sorry. We're preparing for a Razorspine Boar subjugation up north tomorrow. This necklace was originally an endurance enhancer with the voice changer added later on. I still have it listed as an endurance necklace, so the guild will rent it out to the subjugation team when they see that I have it."

"Oh come on… it's your item, you have the final say in how it's used."

Cassie sighed. "You know how things go here…"

Iselle's expression darkened with a mix of disgust and frustration. "…They're stronger, it's an 'honour' to have them use your items, blah, blah, blah. But really, for some Razorspine Boar? A couple of Class 3 or even a single Class 2 could handle it."

Cassie replied, "Perhaps."

"Then what's stopping them from doing exactly that?"

"Razorspine Boars are very dangerous when provoked. They're culled to control the population as they are unfortunately good at disturbing both predators and prey, triggering stampedes with their sheer size and aggressive behaviour, this one is quite tough as it is magic evolved. While some abilities could bring one down when calm, realistically, they won't just stand around while humans approach."

"It's overkill."

"Are you a normal person?"

"Yes?"

"No normal person would willingly put themselves at risk given the chance to prepare beforehand. Adventurers are facing this threat every day, one mistake at its over. You on the other hand are a noble, not exactly facing threats, so you think little prep work for a simple task is overkill."

Iselle grumbled, "I… maybe… argh… I hate how you make sense. It's like that time you convinced me that chickens could fly if you throw them high enough. Granted we were younger but I still dislike how you could make anything make sense."

Cassie teased, "Aww, is little Iselle finally learning about a mythical thing called the art of lying?"

"With you around, lying sounds more like the truth. Besides, I know what a lie is, I've been telling one every time I had to leave the house."

Cassie paused briefly, she didn't want to push the conversation into a depressing subject so she quickly moved on. "Well, see you again tomorrow. If you left today and you've already gone through 2 days of getting out last week, that means you told your mother you were out to buy some pies. Better get going before she asks why you took more than 2 hours to get some."

Iselle's eyes widened. "Wait, has it really been that long?"

Cassie offered a smirk. "Who's to say~"

"I've got to go!"

[~&~]

Lying due east of Ipelli was a sprawling manor, its domain encompassing not only the estate but also the surrounding farmlands. Unlike the grandeur associated with high nobles holding baronies or dukedoms, the Revona family's territory was comparatively modest.

Horses neighed and hooves thudded against the earth. A solitary carriage came to a halt in front of the manor. "We have arrived, Miss Iselle."

Iselle woke up from her nap. Despite the constant jostling and the harsh clatter of carriage wheels on the road, she had managed to find some semblance of rest. Still, she felt some stiffness in her neck as she stretched.

"While I do see the benefit of wastingly idling around— Miss Iselle, I believe I have more important matters for more important people to attend to." The coachman remarked.

Iselle smiled at him, the pain from forcefully stretching her lips out into fake glee was agonizing. "…Thank you for your work."

With the few pies packed in a small basket, Iselle made her way towards the main building. "I guess there's nothing left but to eat and read… again. If only there were more exciting things to look over than maps of Europa."

Entering the manor, she found her way to her room on the second floor. Iselle passed through multiple long corridors, she met the eyes of numerous maids and glanced at various rooms before enjoying the sight of her front door.

Opening it, she was met with the bland look of any other servant's room. At least she lived alone and not with multiple people. To admit it to herself, she wasn't the type to be glamorous, she wore breeches and plain white tunics anyway.

Not that her mother would even allow her to mingle in a dress… or mingle at all.

Iselle closed the door gently, the latch clicking into place. Alone in her room, the silence settled around her. She gazed at the basket of food she had bought, inhaling the rich aroma of baked pastries. Settling on the bed with her back against the mattress, she retrieved a piece of pie, holding it up and examining it with a wistful expression.

"It's just you and me now, apple pie."

With a contented smile, she took a bite of the pie, savouring the sweetness on her tongue.

"Mmm, it's delicious," Iselle muttered, her voice tinged with satisfaction.

Licking her fingers clean and wiping her hand on her pants, she proceeded to look to the side and groan. "Still an hour before swordsmanship. If only I could practice outside the time I was given."

…

"Hmm…." Iselle picked up another slice. "Hello, Pie."

She was beginning to go crazy.

Iselle put on a higher voice. "Iselle~ I came back from slaying 100 bandits, 50 goblins, and a dragon!"

"Wow, how nice. I wonder what it's like to be out in the world… adventurers are quite nice. No weird obligations to lords, no political manoeuvring, and… tons of fun. Ah, but I can do that too, right?"

"No, no, no. You need a lot of power to survive~ Look at me, I have a hybrid type of all kinds of magic! Manipulation, Elemental, Enhancer, and Life! Did you know that I also have all sub-divisions of every type and I have been designated a Class 1?" Imaginary Pie Man responds.

"So you are telling me that I can't be one?"

"Of course not~" The pie was getting increasingly annoying.

Iselle smirked. "Well, that doesn't stop me from eating you, does it?"

"Waaaahhh, oh no~ Why can't I do anything despite exhibiting the power to kill the previous monstrous creatures and evil-doers?"

"Because you are a pie and it is your fate to be eaten."

"But why~"

"Because it is what it is."

Her mouth closed and sweetness leapt to her tongue as she stared at the roof of her simple room.

…

"What am I even doing?"

Iselle lay on the bed properly and closed her eyes, she could do with a small nap. It was her second one but it was a usual sight. She'd need some rest for her practice later. Also, who doesn't like to sleep?

[~&~]

Alone amongst the shade, in a landscape cloaked in lush greenery, the rhythmic thud of steel striking wood echoed through the air. Each blow was deliberate, a repetition of practised movements.

"...One more time."

Iselle shifted her stance, the longsword held with a rough image. She brought her sword high, arms crossed, with the point tracing the upper part of the pole. With a big breath; she swung a true edge diagonal cut from the right, rebounding from the pole and brought it back to her guard. She switched to holding her blade upright to her side and swung a horizontal slash before impacting the wooden pole. Iselle retracts her blade and switches to her left assuming the same high guard from the start, only this one is on the left.

"This is how they did it... I think. I'm getting the hang of it if I'm not wrong." With a diagonal cut into a horizontal slash, she was an amateur at best.

She could feel the warmth of blood coursing through her upper body, a sensation mingling with the pain that accompanied her efforts. Yet, she pressed on, driven by determination rather than discomfort.

"...One more time," she repeated.

Once again, she prepared to do the same motion.

"Iselle."

Her concentration was interrupted by a voice she recognized well. She turned to find Caine, an imposing figure with an enigmatic expression, standing nearby.

"Caine?"

"Sister, you still use that old thing?" Caine motioned to her sword.

"What, this?" Iselle responded defensively. "It's not as though Mother or Father cares about my hobbies. There's no chance for me to replace it. Do you have a problem with it?"

"If by hobbies you mean flailing around a sword with haphazard technique, then yes. Your attempts for the past 2 weeks are admirable, you'd be a great fighter… if a stationary wooden pole was your enemy."

Iselle's irritation flared. "Leave me be."

Caine's lips tightened, and his words burst forth like a dam yielding to a surging river. "Hold on."

"What?" Iselle's brow twitched as leaves rustled, the atmosphere growing tense around them. There was something unsettling about her brother's bright green eyes, an emptiness that always lingered, one she couldn't forget.

"…Your guard is incorrect. Hold it firmly high, your wrists are bent and your arms aren't rigid. , you want your stances to be strong enough to receive a hit. If I can guess, your guards are an Ochs into a Pflug but if you're going to protect your right side in that transition, point to tip toward the enemy, not just up to the sky. Although, practising this way will not completely hone sword fighting skills."

"…H-huh?" Iselle was befuddled. 'What's with him today?' she mused silently.

"Swift transitions between guards, parrying, counterattacks, footwork; you can't train them properly with a piece of wood in the ground and a sword to hit it with. I assume you go to the city's training grounds to look at the garrison training."

"I see." Iselle huffed. "I assume you're telling me this because you were already trained when you were a child? What's next, show off you've got an ability? I already know how superior you are with Ferrokinesis."

Caine's expression softened. "Look, Iselle. Anyone can swing a sword, novices can hold their ground, and competent fighters can engage in battle. Yet a master realizes that using a sword isn't the correct choice. I'm… not saying this lightly—I'm giving this advice because you can't exactly follow a master. Trust me, you've not seen the difficulty and prowess required to fight the realm's strongest, especially in magic."

Clicking her tongue, Iselle switches the subject. "…Do you require something of me?"

"Hmm?"

"Why this sudden urge to give lessons?"

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"…No. So you've really come here to bring me down despite me already being rock-bottom."

Caine shook his head. "Nothing like that. Mother wants to talk to you during dinner, she expects you to be in top form and dressed decently."

"Top-form? She expects me to be high-class when I wasn't taught etiquette by an instructor — so what I wear isn't her problem, barely anyone knows me anyway."

"You can decide whether you want to provoke her again." Caine turned to leave, his brown hair glistening in the setting sun's rays. He paused before speaking once more. "Oh, and you better stop bothering Barnaby."

Shocked, Iselle raised her voice. "How did—"

"He was nice enough to provide a description. There's only one athletic person I know who wears breeches. You should also thank that female friend of yours in the guild who always pays what random food you steal from Barnaby."

"What?!"

"…Goodbye, sister."

"Uh... Goodbye?" Iselle responds with uncertainty. As Caine left, Iselle continued her practice, tweaking her form to that of how her brother recommended. However, she stopped eventually due to the time reaching late noon.

Little did she know how much things were going to change.

(A/N)

Fun Fact: I am not Italian