Actions and ponders

[A/N: Co-written with ScarletRabbit.]

Nimue swung a hand. In an instant, the blue threads extended, reaching the ground. As the elf inhaled deeply, they shortened. She clenched her right fist before pointing with a finger whilst forming an arc with the motion. Immediately, one of the threads shot forward, latching onto the wall just next to Lucas's room. Nimue pivoted her hand a little, and the blue line followed, extending onto the opposite wall. Repeating the movement a few times, the strand of light stretched between several points, creating a spiral that crept forth. A small sigh escaped her mouth before she raised her other hand.

Bringing them together, Nimue shaped the strands between her fingers, allowing them to touch and twisting them into a small but complicated construct that resembled a knitting pattern. After a couple seconds, she spread both her hands a little, causing the structure to float in front of her. As the blue strands began spacing themselves out a little, they formed a structure similar to a spider's web. With a sharp motion, the elf maid threw the construct forth, and the strands latched onto the spiral, securing themselves tightly. Within a few seconds, it had moved forth and spread out, creating an elaborate network of connections. With a slightly satisfied grin, Nimue relaxed her fingers, and the power abated. In an instant, the intricate construct disappeared from her field of view.

'This will be enough. Let's see you getting--!'

*Cough cough!*

Nimue brought a hand to her mouth, doing her best to stifle the vehement coughing that appeared like a bolt out of the blue sky. She dropped to the ground momentarily, a sting of pain radiating within her chest as though she was stabbed. Her heart slowed down significantly, its beating reverberating through her veins with power that almost clouded her consciousness. A sensation of frigid cold ate at her fingertips.

After a couple seconds, the feelings began waning. The first thing that returned was the heartbeat, immediately followed by a wave of warmth. Nimue huffed heavily for a short while before calming herself. Swallowing audibly, she felt the faintest taste of metal in her mouth, but even that faded quickly. Squinting her eyes slightly, she traced the corridor's length before turning on her heels and stepping forth. Whilst trekking, she brought a hand closer to her face and inspected the brownish paste under her nail. Now, having taken a look at it, it was something she vaguely remembered seeing in the past.

'...meditating...' she frowned slightly at the ponder.

-Meanwhile-

A light sigh escaped Ophelia's mouth as she moved in her chair. Her plate was already long empty, but she was sitting together with her sister and mother, her blue eyes sluggishly moving from one head to another. From the five guards who appeared a little tense about the situation, to the man called Lis'te who was having a peaceful exchange with her mother, to the two maids who were going about, preparing to clean up as the feast was obviously coming to a premature end. The woman huffed a bit of air at her hair, once again regretting that she decided to let it flow freely today. A bun would've been much better for this occasion.

'I was supposed to meet Illan today...' she thought with a bit of dismay. Reminding herself of the Breshnaw heir, she couldn't help but feel a bit of repulse stir at the base of her throat.

He was a strong Mage, she had to admit that much. He might've been three years younger than her, putting him at about 23, but achieving 4th circle was a great achievement for that age. Ophelia herself only had broken through to 5th hardly a year ago, and she was already hailed a genius for that. Illan did not fall far behind her.

But there were things about him that brought disfavor to her mind. Illan was a noble, but his attitude toward people of lower status was nothing short of aloof. Especially since they started dating, his behavior has become far more audacious. Before, he'd at least not badmouth the three other Count families of Weydan...

Ophelia grimaced momentarily, her blue eyes looking to the side as she crossed her hands under her chest. She could still feel the cold stares of Tezmi's two heirs and their sister when Illan called them 'merely a mess of merchants'. His one misstep almost cost the Stormrider family their greatest investor, and he appeared mildly apologetic about it at best. It was infuriating that not a single word she said got through his thick skull. Even worse was it when he thought he could tell HER to go and apologize in his stead... Ophelia truly had to **** herself to not blast him away back then.

She exhaled slowly, her plump lips opening slightly in vexation. Her gleaming eyes jumped to her mother as she listened in to the conversation.

"--the situation in Weydan appears stable, but I'm uncertain if this will last," the head of the house said, her voice tranquil yet bearing a tiny trace of worry. "Once the wind of the news spreads, it may become hectic. Some residents are native to Inallel, and there are surely a few from Ureliar as well. Tension is inevitable, and I'm afraid some may seek... conflict," Ismeria's mouth twisted slightly, but her daughter had a problem deducing the emotion she attempted to convey. "I believe it's for the best that Princess remains on the manor's grounds, at least until the situation stabilizes."

"Thank you for your hospitability, Lady Ismeria," Lis'te nodded his head. "Hopefully, we will not have to overuse it."

The conversation was quickly turning into a political overview of the continent, every next word baring new insights into the current situation of the five countries. Ophelia took great care to listen in and piece together all the information available.

Ureliar attacked out of the blue in several points of the elven country, hitting especially hard in the places where they had their mines and smithies. The Council in Rigus was also assaulted, in the middle of a sitting no less. Out of the seven members, one was rendered to a critical state, while the rest suffered minor injuries. However, multiple more attacks happened throughout the capital in the coming days, which pushed the elves to enforce a temporary military state policy. To ensure the safety of the Council's families, they were to temporarily take refuge in the noble houses of Etnal, as it was their only neighbor other than Ureliar. Princess Seraphina was to stay in the manor for about a week or until the Council would send a message stating that the situation in Inallel was stable, whichever came first.

Looking at Lis'te, Ophelia easily noticed that he was acting very courteously. Every time he spoke of anyone, he titled them fully. Be it the king of Etnal - Allan Etnal, the grand Emperor of Riverut - Sishen the 7th, or any of Inallel's Council's heads, only pure respect could be inferred from his voice and gestures.

'...truly, a messenger that has been performing his craft for years.' the silver-haired woman nodded lightly at her thought. 'And for him to come on his own through half the continent to make a request of a Marquis family... they are not treating us lightly by any means.' she looked over the guards.

The five men glanced around with uncertain gazes. They appeared tense, surely burdened by the weight of their duty. One seemed to be a Mage, evident from the staff standing by his chair. Two of them had swords by their waist and their builds revealed glints of muscles, showing the appearances of Warrior-type classes, and the last two did not have any weaponry as far as she could tell, the nature of their classes shrouded in mystery.

'To be protecting the Princess of Inallel, I can imagine each of them must be on a level of at least a 5th-class Mage...' she conceded, her expression full of ponder. 'Two vanguards, one spellcaster, and two with unknown assignments in battle... a healer and a ranger, perhaps. They are no doubt at the level that even I'd find tricky to counter without support. Maybe I can inquire them about a sparring match. This could be a way to get accustomed to the Princess if she agrees to attend. I wonder how strong she is.'

...she huffed a bit of air again. Now that Princess Seraphina left, all the reasons for her to stay in the Great Hall had dispersed. Given what the blonde elf said, she was going to likely sleep. Bringing up some memories of Inallel, she figured it must've been evening there already. The land of the elves was situated east of Etnal, and as far as she knew, Rigus - the capital city - was closer to the continent's edge than to their western neighbor. The hour was still rather early in here, but there it was likely afternoon already. There was a good likelihood that Princess Seraphina would wake up the next day.

Ophelia's icy blue eyes danced between the heads of the guests again before stopping on Lis'te. His posture was rather frail, but given his position as the Council's messenger, he was no doubt skilled in his art. A faint memory of him walking around the manor just the day before danced in front of her eyes... before she heard a certain word leave her mother's mouth.

"--Breshnaw to inform him of the situation. In the meantime, please make yourselves at home. Our servants will cater to your needs," words that came out of Ismeria's mouth made her daughter immediately flinch.

However, she did not even attempt to interject the talk. Instead, she studied everyone's expressions whilst thinking. 'Mother's going to Illan's father?' the thought rang in her mind for a split second. 'I do understand informing the Count families of Weydan of the situation, but wouldn't we send a servant for that?'

"Ophelia will substitute for my attendance until I return," Ismeria got a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Her hold was rather gentle. "You may ask her all your questions."

Slowly forming a gentle smile, the busty daughter nodded her head.

"But of course," she said with a tender tone, her eyes meeting Lis'te's, the two pairs of blue orbs locked as though in a trance. The state persisted for but a moment, but it was more than enough for her to infer his feelings of uncertainty. "Please, do not be a stranger. We will do everything in our ability to fulfill any requests you or Princess may have. Our mansion is as good as your own."

"On behalf of our Princess and nation, we are eternally grateful to your family," Lis'te replied. "We will be sure to repay your help tenfold."

"Compensation is a thing best settled after the winds of aggression were swept away," the head of the Stormrider family said. "Worry not of such matters until the war is over."

Ophelia let out an inward sigh of relief seeing that his eyes did not jump around as much anymore. His demeanor appeared calmer as well, the faint mist of uncertainty clouding his eyes disappearing like it was a lie. A tiny smile made its way onto her lips, together with a mental gesture of gratitude aimed at her mother.

The silver-haired descendant of the Stormrider family was a picture of articulateness. Her swift tongue and calculative thinking were both tools that she used expertly to swing the talks in her favor. Even when dealing with Etnal's dukes and the like, she did not let the pressure of their authority get to her head, acting cool and collected.

But it wasn't always like that. When she was younger, she had her own share of insecurities, from the lisp that set her back in the talking department when she was a child, to the issues her body brought her when she hit puberty. All her experience had to come from somewhere. Ismeria took great care to teach her diligently the art of reforging those qualities of nature to better fit her, to make her just as fluent in her communication skills as she was. In more ways than just looks, the daughter was much like her mother: cunning and planning, with a way out of nearly every situation and connections that ran deeper than just close nobility of the Killan dukedom.

She was raised by this woman to be the pride of the family. When Aveline turned out to be a dimwit and Lucas couldn't class way past the expected age, it rested on her shoulders to upkeep the appearance of the family outside of this manor's walls. She'd met multiple heads of Etnal's aristocracy, from mere Barons to the crown prince. Every last time, she kept up an appearance full of eloquence and easily made connections. As the eldest sibling, she had to show that the newest generation of Stormriders was not to scoff at.

This situation, while unsettling at its core, was an excellent opportunity to let her communication skills shine. The only foreign elite Ophelia ever met belonged to the Riverut Empire - which was a country ruled by humans, much like Etnal. However, making connections with nobility belonging to Inallel could bring forth many grand prospects in the future, including, but not limited to, access to elven magic. Her thoughts diverged to the green-haired Liveren.

From the moment she stepped foot on their grounds, Princess Seraphina emanated an aura alien to what Ophelia ever felt. She did happen to meet some elves in her life already, but none of them had this... articulateness to their look. There was no denying that she was a diva: her immaculate countenance shone even from beneath rather ordinary-looking clothing. Aside from that, she appeared to be on her toes constantly, given how much her attention was diverted both when she arrived and during the feast. Speaking of which, the Liveren princess appeared to be a picky eater. Even the guards took some bites of food, but she sternly refused to eat even a single piece.

'...perhaps I could find out what she likes and give some to her... that's a good way to break the ice, I suppose... Then... the starting topic should avoid Inallel. Perhaps... I could offer to show her my Origin Magic. As the only holder of it in this house, I'll surely pique her interest with it. Perhaps I could ask her about her own. Or perhaps... a tour of the mansion...? It is a shame that I did not learn Mins. I'll need that messenger to be around, and Aveline is supposed to work on him.' she thought, her eyes tracing the edge of the utensils on her plate. 'I don't think anyone in here speaks Mins... wait. Nimue is an elf... Maybe that could substitute.' she got a hand to her chin. 'If I recall correctly, she was taken in by grandfather Iwo about forty years ago. She should surely know the elven language.'

-30 minutes later-

Standing in the doorframe of her mother's room, she couldn't help but glance over the older woman who was standing in front of a large mirror, watching as two maids rushed around her, helping her don a purple robe that almost hid her tall, black boots. Ismeria's hipline was accentuated by a belt of a light color that made it appear as though she wore two articles of clothing at once. A bra strap of a black color could be seen for but a moment before she moved her shoulder slightly.

Eventually, the two maids stepped back, allowing Ismeria to take a slow spin whilst looking at herself. Finally coming to a halt, her blue eyes met her daughter's.

"Ophelia," she called out to her. Intangible power sept from her words, filling the room with every small exhale. "You've been silent all this time. Is there something on your mind?"

"Yes, Mother," Ismeria's daughter bowed her head lightly. "I was wondering... why are you going to Count Breshnaw personally? We have servants we can send."

"That is true, but I have some other matters to discuss with Clyde. One of them pertains to your relationship with his son. That discussion will probably take longer than just a dinner," Ismeria waved with her hand in a slightly dismissive manner. "Should everything go smoothly, I will return tomorrow by noon."

"I understand," Ophelia nodded. "I will handle everything in your absence, Mother."

"Good. That's one headache less," her mother appeared to almost chuckle lightly. "Remember what I taught you and this situation will be over before you know it."

"I will."

"It's good to know that at least one of my children has their head on their neck," a short hum escaped Ismeria's full lips. "Be sure to keep an eye on Aveline. If you find her to be disrupting your progress with Princess Seraphina, don't hesitate to cut her short."

"What about Lucas?" Ophelia asked. The instant she did so, a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes met her mother's. A bit of aggressive pressure emanated from within.

Ismeria appeared to stop breathing for a moment before she raised a hand. The maid tying her hair into a bun immediately halted her movements and let go of it. Then, she and the other one took their steps outside of the room, closing the door behind themselves.

The stale air of the room was becoming laced with tension as the older woman took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. She grimaced as she focused her gaze on her daughter.

"Do not remind me of that failure," she appeared to almost speak through her teeth, her tone lower than before. "I've spoken to him, and he should not cause any problems," Ismeria grimaced, glancing to her side for but a moment. "If he dares step out of the line, your hand is free to move as you please. So long he doesn't meet our guests, you don't have to even think about him."

"I understand," Ophelia bowed her head deeply, feeling a trickle of sweat travel down her back. "I will keep everything in order."

"Good. You're the only person in this mansion that I trust, Ophelia. You mustn't fail me."

-Meanwhile-

The spacious bathroom in the underground level of the Stormrider mansion was a space designated for the servants to wash in. A large space in the ground was dug out and fitted with some tiles, creating a tub that was capable of holding nearly a dozen people at once with little discomfort or space issues. Its depth was just enough for one to rest their shoulders on the surrounding stone, making it a perfect place to sit for a while.

Lucas breathed deeply, the air from his lungs mixing with the warm water vapor. Lying his head on the stones behind himself, he watched the manalamps on the ceiling for a long moment. He had washed his body before. Now, he was taking his time to sit in the water.

His hand found its way to his ear. Slowly, he began scratching the hearing organ whilst frowning slightly.

'Is someone talking about me?'