Frustrations and plans

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

The evening's atmosphere brought forth a bit of chill. Ismeria took some air into her lungs and felt her nose displeasingly stirred by the stench of Weydan. No matter how much she tried to accept the city's smell, she could not help but feel a bit of reflux attempt to discharge from her stomach. How these commoners could live in this manure-filled place was beyond her. Not that it mattered; ventures into the city were a rarity for her.

She turned to her side while coming to a halt, the purple coat on her arms fluttering. Her blue eyes glanced upon the middle-aged man with dark-brown hair and deep brown eyes. His aged face showed the years of struggles that preceded the current peace. His eyes gazed upon her with a soft expression of esteem. A smile graced his gentle face as their eyes met, his bronze points nigh-identical to his son's.

This person was known as the head of the Breshnaw family, and one of the Counts who oversaw Weydan. In the surrounding acres, he only stood second to the very person who was now leaving his residence.

"Clyde," she said calmly, gauging his reactions. "I hope everything works out for you."

"Likewise, Ismeria," his voice sounded, its power palpable. Yet, the man nodded his head deeply in a gesture of courtesy. "May your travels be safe. Seems to be early still, you'll reach back home before night."

She nodded gently before stepping closer to her steed. She brushed the dark gray fur of her horse. It gave in to her touch, its softness apparent. Without wasting a second more, the woman summoned mana from within herself. A sigil of mana appeared beneath her feet, violet in color. Then, it raised, lifting the silver-haired woman with itself. Within seconds, Ismeria was sitting on the saddle, holding the reins.

"It's been a delight," she commented, turning to the man. "May your family experience plentiful fortunes in the future."

"Hah," the man let out a hearty laughter. "Meeting your family was fortune enough. I hope our ties become closer when Illan and Ophelia connect."

The head of the Stormrider family smiled in response. Her mind, however, did not resonate with her actions. 'Look at you, hoping to get close to me. Pathetic worm, you don't even know when a bird will snatch you, and you dare aim to soar along them?' she scoffed inwardly. "Farewell, Clyde," she said softly, naught a tinge of her inner emotion let out.

The man nodded gently at her words before she commanded the horse to set off. He brushed his hair, looking at the woman's back. Then, deciding to stop his loitering, he took his steps backward, allowing the guards to close the gates to the Breshnaw residence. Pulling out a small smoking pipe from his pocket, he filled it with some dried-up herbs from a small pouch. Then, Clyde's hand went to his waist, where he pulled out a small stick of dark brown color, adorned with a silver top - a magic wand. Tiny inscriptions of golden color on its surface glistened momentarily as he spun it in the air slightly. Mana sept from within his body, coursing toward his fingers. In an instant, the air around the tip appeared to flutter as some bright yellow sparks appeared. Repeating the motion, Clyde lowered the tool into the pipe. With a low crackle reminiscent of static electricity, the dried-up weed caught on fire, letting out a fume of smoke that would irritate most. The man clasped his mouth around the other end of the pipe and pulled in some air, relishing in the sensation. Hiding the wand, he took his steps toward the large building near his current position - the Breshnaw mansion. Within a couple of long seconds, he stepped inside.

It was not nearly as large as the Stormrider residence - the entire complex would only substitute a single wing at best - but it did not mean it was small. For him, his wife, children, and servants, this was more than enough.

The man's brown eyes met Illan's. The heir to the Breshnaw family was lying leisurely on a couch in the main room. A small sigil of magic was in his hand as he played around with a <Fireball>. His bronze eyes lazily met his father's.

"Illan," Clyde spoke, coming to a halt. "Has something happened?"

"Hmm?" his son focused on him, canceling the spell. "Why?"

"You didn't come to greet Ismeria before. And..." the man took a second to look over the young Mage. "I can't help but feel as though you are... tense. Hence I'm asking."

"...nothing happened," Illan replied with a short sigh. "I'm just annoyed, is all. I was supposed to be with Ophelia by now, but these stupid elves decided to--"

"Illan," Clyde's voice turned sour in an instant. His thick eyebrows furrowed a bit as his mouth grimaced. "I know that it's not an ideal situation, but understand their position. Their country is at war. Have some leniency."

Illan rolled his eyes with a clear glint of annoyance. A hand went through his hair, brushing it before he allowed it to maintain its normal, spiky appearance. "How long will they be staying there?"

"A week at most," came an answer as the man exhaled, letting a small cloud of smoke disperse. "But I'm sure it won't bother a soul if you visited them. If anything, maybe showing your face around could sow a seed of connections for the future," the man mused, his mouth curving in a pleasant smile.

Illan's mouth stayed firmly closed as his eyes turned to the white ceiling. A slow exhale left his mouth. This was not a situation he enjoyed. It went completely against his plans. His hands were supposed to be cherishing the heft of Ophelia's breasts in his room, not... anything but that. The inability to realize his dreams gnawed at the back of his mind. It was a bitter, irritating feeling that made him feel like he wanted to blast something. Where was Lucas when you needed him...

"Well, it's just a suggestion," Clyde continued, letting out another whiff of smoke. "Anything's better than rotting away on that couch, I reckon," he shrugged before entering a corridor. A short while later, he was already gone from his son's sensory range.

...

Illan exhaled with irritation. The peace of his mind was once again left in turmoil. It was already the third time this week that something went astray for him. The most annoying of the mishaps had to do with his lover's sister.

As a dimwit dabbling into swordplay, Aveline displayed an impressive amount of ****, which was fitting given her height. The **** of the impact from yesterday still rang within his skull. It had shaved off almost a third of his HP and knocked him out for an hour. Truly, Endurance was not a Mage's strength.

'Ophelia said that Aveline was about to ascend from a Pawn to a Knight in sword mastery. That means her power corresponds to a Mage of 2nd to 3rd circle... it's annoying. I wasn't even able to do anything.' he gritted his teeth with inward rage. 'That and she is capable of 2nd circle magic. Had it not been for Kieran, I might've been humiliated further...' he clenched his fists, getting up.

He'd been dating Ophelia for quite a while now, and as far as he could remember, her sister always acted as though she disdained him. It never showed enough to call her out for it in front of others, but no matter the occasion, Aveline was happy to throw invisible logs under his legs. The time when she 'accidentally' slashed his attire, just barely missing his skin when she played around with aura using some utensil - that incident was bored into his cranium. That one occasion, when she played around with 1st circle magic and used <Grease> right under his feet, was also a thing etched deep into his skull. Frustration welled up further inside him as he reminded himself of other situations.

'Aveline, I'll be sure to pay you back one day.' he huffed inwardly, taking his steps into the expansive garden. 'I wonder how you'll conquer some 4th circle magic.' he smirked as he found the fountain in the middle of the green expanse.

Sitting on a bench nearby, the Breshnaw heir looked to the sky. The blue expanse above was already transitioning into a violet hue, showing him that the evening was at the door. He relaxed his position.

"Are you going to just stand there, Ester?" he asked the question, seemingly to the air above. Yet, his eyes immediately darted to his right.

A young woman appeared just by a large fountain. Her dark hair descended to her shoulders, highlighting her somewhat pale skin and sleek face. The stare of her dark eyes was reminiscent of a raven, the silent intelligence glimmering within. Her somewhat voluptuous body became ever so more pronounced as she stepped closer.

"This doesn't feel fair," her melodic, quiet voice sounded. "I can never detect you, and I was even using a spell now..." she sighed. A large, dark tunic hugged her body loosely, hiding her prominent bust from her brother's eyes.

"Oh well," he replied nonchalantly as Ester sat down. "You can't hide from me anymore with just 2nd circle shadow magic," a glint of laughter tinted his voice. His eyes glanced upon his sister's curves. Gods, why were the blood ties so sacred...

"Alas, 3rd circle is still out of my reach," Ester nodded. 'Not for long, I hope.' she added within her thoughts.

"Well, how have you been enjoying the Academy so far? Didn't have the chance to speak about it much, did we?"

"It's alright," she shrugged, moving her hands on her blue skirt. "The theory classes will begin from tomorrow on. The curriculum doesn't seem that challenging."

"How's your class?"

"Bar a head or two, they seem fine."

"Someone got on your nerves? Well, isn't this an achievement," Illan chuckled lightly. "Was it Lucas?"

"No, not at all," Ester shook her head. "He's quite alright, all things considered. Agnis from the Tezmi family, however, is a different case. She's been giving me dirty looks all the time, and she seems to be on guard against me. I feel like she still hasn't lived down what you said about their family."

"Pfft. Don't let that get to your head. A mess of merchants like them should be the least of your problems."

Ester looked at her hands for a prolonged while. A stinging feeling stirred within her chest, feeling as though what she was hearing was wrong. Yet, she dared not voice her opinion. Instead, she asked, "How was it with Ophelia, brother?"

"...it wasn't," Illan's voice expressed his displeasure. "A war broke out between Ureliar and Inallel. Stormriders are taking some nobility from the elves as refugees for a week. We had to cancel our plans for now."

"Oh... I'm sorry," she replied, shuffling in her seat. However, her tone could use some work on how apologetic it sounded.

"Well, but I was interested. How was Lucas in particular in your classes?" Illan inquired, his bronze eyes staring at his sister with curiosity.

Ester put on a thoughtful expression. After a few moments, she answered, "He's very quiet, and usually spends his time reading. Yet, he always has an answer to what the professors ask. His behavior is very different from when we were kids. Far more analytical now than he used to be."

"Did you talk with him?"

"...no," Ester hesitated with her answer. Her hands appeared to tremble ever so slightly. "I don't think he recognized me, and I decided to not trouble him."

Illan didn't answer, instead looking to the sky for a long moment. Ester thought about the heir to the Stormrider family.

'I shouldn't bother him. He's already challenged enough. The only Classless in the Academy... I hope he's doing fine on his own. It is the first time I saw him in nearly 6 years.'

-Meanwhile-

Ismeria's face remained indifferent. The horse's hooves made clacking noises as they hit the hard cobble, the woman making her way into southern Weydan. However, knowing her destination, she decided to detour beforehand.

Within minutes, she had stepped out of a small building, her beautiful dress exchanged for a piece of clothing that would fit much better on a commoner than nobility. The very sensation of the material rubbing against her skin disgusted her. Yet, she had changed into these clothes for a reason. Fixing the material, Ismeria mounted her horse again and resumed her previous journey.

The typically clean, sturdy buildings built in Etnal's architecture gave way to somewhat taller but seemingly feeble ones. The tower-like structures looked like the teeth of some ancient monster lying down, waiting for its next meal. Stepping between them, the silver-haired woman immediately felt the atmosphere of the city change.

The lively cacophony that could typically be heard in the city's center was now dying out, replaced by a somewhat eerie silence. The few people she passed by looked at her with wariness and diligence. The stares of their dirty eyes were accompanied by their hardly washed bodies. The filth seeping from their fingers made them almost appear barbarian. Disgust welled up within Ismeria's stomach at the mere sight of them. She could not even consider them as 'people' in that state.

A pair of Enforcers entered her vision as they came from up ahead. Their attires were a stark difference to the residents of this city's part, immaculate and orderly. Their quick eyes scanned all around, visibly tense. It appeared that they did not want to remain in this area, intending to get away quickly. Passing by them, the Stormrider woman noticed a small vial of some transparent liquid in the hand of one of them. Deciding against pondering the issue much, she focused her eyes on the tallest building of her interest.

Its distinct style appeared to be a mix between Etnal's sturdiness and Ureliar's fleetiness. The base stood strong, wide, and imposing. Ismeria was sure that even 4th-circle magic would barely make a dent in the weirdly smooth, gray walls. As her gaze ascended, she noticed the architectural style changing, the walls slightly shifting into something that might've looked like a budding flower.

Ismeria glanced at the people around as she came to a halt near the structure. Stepping down from her steed, she gazed at the local that appeared to boast some strength. Without saying a word, she pulled out a pouch of gold. Her fingers got hold of two pieces that she threw under his feet. Then, she left for the door.

Her silver hair fluttered in the faint breeze that came from within as she pushed the door open. The scent of **** filled the air as she looked inside the room.

Numerous tables were set up in a semi-orderly fashion around the bar in the center. About twenty heads sat in their seats, some gambling with cards while others enjoyed their drinks. Contrary to the outside of the district, this place appeared somewhat clean. The glasses placed on the counter, waiting to be filled, glistened in the semi-faint light coming from numerous chandeliers above. A faint sound reminiscent of music sounded - a bard was sitting somewhere in the back, playing a calm tune on his lute.

Numerous eyes shot their glances at her. Some appeared surprised - those were the people who knew not of who this woman was. Others were angered - those were ignorant of her identity. Just a couple of them showed a respectful gaze through their fear - they were the ones who knew who Ismeria was.

But she paid no mind to the flies. Her gaze was aimed straight at the man who appeared to completely ignore her entry, polishing a glass with his rugged hands. His dark carnation shone in the light, and the dark depths of his eyes appeared infinite. Finally focusing on her, he seemed neither surprised nor tense at her arrival. Unlike others, he knew not to waste her time. He merely nodded, giving Ismeria all the information he needed.

She stepped to the side, entering a corridor leading to a stairwell. Stepping on it, she descended quickly, reaching a door within some seconds. She knocked on it lightly in a pattern before entering.

An expansive room welcomed her. Considering that she was currently at least two stories underground, she had to admit that plenty of effort was put into digging out a space as spacious as this. Lamps hanging just by the ceiling were numerous and placed irregularly, almost as though they mimicked the stars in the night sky, giving off a surprisingly acceptable amount of light. A metallic sound emanated as her shoes stepped on the floor, plates of dark gray steel placed as covering.

Despite its size, the room appeared hardly empty. Up front, she saw a large desk right by a stone wall. Its dark wood was something not native to Etnal, and its distinct style appeared foreign as well. Several pieces of paper littered across the space. To her left, a few tables stood, numerous flasks, alembics, and the like standing strong, several of them filled with colorful fluids that begged to be mixed to see their reaction. A man was sitting by the apparatus, carefully taking care of what he had in front of him.

"You're early," a comment left his mouth as he did not stop his motions or turn to her. His tone was rugged and carried an edge of authority unfitting for his slender frame. A dark coat he wore rubbed on the floor slightly as he shuffled in his chair. A few drops of silver color entered a vial filled to the brim with an orange mixture.

"I'm just that effective at what I do."

"Hmm, so it would seem," he nodded lightly before brushing his hair. "Doing well, aren't you?" the man asked, putting his tools away and standing up.

Even at first glance, he was taller than Ismeria, nearing the height of her tallest daughter. His somewhat short hair was surprisingly well-kept, rather dark in color yet with hints of gray on the sides. His face appeared rather smooth and had a striking appearance, complete with dark gray eyes that seemed to pierce through everything with an analytical intention.

He wore a suit that appeared strangely immaculate, given the district of the city above their heads. The tuxedo pants were a bit larger than his required size, but they didn't look ill-fit on him. Under the coat, he wore a very clean tunic of nigh-white color. A large belt held his attire together, its rugged buckle having lost some of its bronze color.

"Adequately to my position," she replied. "You seem to be content with yourself as well, Egis," Ismeria remarked, noticing that the man got a hold of the vial he had just been working on. As he corked the container, he glanced toward her.

"Cannot say I am not," the man appeared to have smirked ever so slightly, passing by the woman and toward the opposite wall. A quiet noise reminiscent of tiny metal parts shuffling sounded with his every step. "How's the situation with the Liveren descendant?"

"Stable," Ismeria replied shortly, crossing her arms under her chest just like Ophelia would. "They will stay for about a week. What about the concoction?"

Egis's mouth curved into a smile. His hand reached to the handle of a large door he approached. "Would you like a presentation?"

The voluptuous woman sighed lightly before stepping to the man. As the metal entryway swung on its hinges with a creak, she took note of the contents of the secondary room. The same gray material as the door constituted its walls, and its small size caused it to look more like a cell.

In the middle, in a metal chair, sat a chained man. His ragged, dirty clothes fit his unclean skin, and Ismeria could not help but feel her nose stir with the stench the man gave off. He was no doubt a beggar.

She looked at the suited man. He, in response, walked closer to the bound man.

"Wake up," he said, his voice almost seeping with authority.

"...h-huh?" the sitting man stirred in his seat, just barely capable of lifting his head. He appeared to be somewhat famished, as evident by his sunken face. "M-Mister Egis... I-I... I promise I will get the money soon!" he stammered, his dark eyes switching wildly between the man and the woman. "P-Please..." his long hair swung as he bent backward slightly, trying to fight against the chains.

"Hush," Egis put a hand to his lips. "It's alright. I know that survival is not easy in this place. I will take mercy on you. You can repay your debt. You just need to do one thing for me. Open wide."

"...h-huh?" the man looked at Egis, his expression turning to surprise. However, this did not last as the man in the suit **** the vial of orange fluid into his mouth.

Unable to resist his firm hold, he felt the liquid pour down his throat. After a second or so, the process was finished. His face showed immense bewilderment as nothing appeared to happen for some seconds.

"W-What was... that...?" the question left his mouth.

Egis put a hand on Ismeria's shoulder, urging her to step back. Listening hesitantly, she noticed that the beggar's eyes became bloodshot. Veins surged on his weak body, and it appeared as though he gained some muscle mass in his torso and legs. Some of the more exposed veins on his body shimmered with a faint orange color, showing that Egis's fluid was already in his bloodstream.

"Your repayment," Egis answered shortly. His tone appeared much colder than before, and his gaze was firmly locked on the man's reactions.

The man flailed in the chair. The movement was much faster than he should have been capable of, and the clanging of the chains that stopped him showed that the **** behind the move was no doubt greater than normal. Ismeria felt a bit of pressure begin to fill the air. Knowing what was coming, she exited the room. Egis followed suit.

"If you can get out of there, you can consider yourself a free man. Good luck," he said before slamming the door shut. Immediately, he pulled out a key and inserted it into the keylock. A heavy lock clicked before he took a few steps to the side.

Ismeria remained silent. Her blue eyes watched the door in silent anticipation of what was going to happen. The beggar's voice could be sounded from behind the door, first quiet and then rising to something reminiscent of shouting. Its tone became at least a tone deeper as he roared painfully.

Suddenly, a metallic noise sounded. Then a second one, followed by third and fourth. Knowing the distinct sound of metal snapping, the Stormrider woman could infer the events. Her suspicions found fruition when the door suddenly shook from a hit.

The **** of the impact was not tremendous, but surely enough to be felt on the other side. The beggar repeated his attack. The metal door creaked slightly as a small dent appeared on its surface. A nigh-primal roar erupted from behind the metal entryway before another strike connected. The hinges loosened from another one.

And then, the door fell from the final strike.

Rumbling sounded. Dust rose into the air. Intangible pressure oozed from within the room. The man, once bound to the chair, now stepped outside.

His ragged form appeared even more bare now than before. However, the muscles of his body were far bulkier than before, and his face no longer held a sunken appearance.

His hands and legs still had chains put on them, but they only held a few links. The surface of the knuckles was bloody, and one of his fingers displaced from hitting the door. He repositioned it to its correct form before clenching his fist. His wounds were healing by the second.

The beggar's eyes shot to Egis and Ismeria. A quiet moment of consternation was beset upon them before his face contorted in anger. Without wasting a second, he lunged at them, moving faster than a normal human could. His advance, however, was stopped instantly by Ismeria.

A sigil of magic appeared in front of her, forming an intangible barrier that the beggar bounced off of. Immediately after, she channeled further mana, creating a quick spell that lifted him into the air.

"...does not seem like there is improvement," she commented, clenching her fist. **** magic answered, immediately stopping the man's movements. "About as savage as last month's effects."

"This is the effect of overdosing, is all," Egis replied calmly, stepping closer to the man who attempted to squirm his way out of the **** magic. Quiet groans left his mouth as the woman held every outer muscle of his body. "But they don't lose their minds permanently anymore. It's all a matter of fine-tuning the dosage, and Alumeris will be ready for distribution."

"...if you say so."

"We will proceed as planned. On Friday, all we need is the Liveren Princess to be in Weydan, and we will handle everything. You get what you want, and we achieve our goal."

A smirk entered her face. She knew Egis was a capable person. After all, to be in the position he held in the district, one needed a proper head and a strong neck. Such a thing as aloofness or half-assing one's job was unimaginable to him.

Egis suddenly reached out to Ismeria, holding a small, almost spherical device. She accepted the gadget, scanning its surface.

"This will allow communication without mana," he said at her questioning expression. "Be sure to keep us informed if anything changes."

The silver-haired woman nodded lightly. "Do you need this one?" her eyebrow raised slightly, her blue eyes staring back at the beggar before meeting Egis's.

"I have no use of a mad dog right now," he shrugged, taking his steps away.

Ismeria's smirk widened. Her gaze met the beggar's. Within the unintelligent stare, she could see a helpless call for mercy. He did not know what was happening to him, but he wanted it to stop.

'Luckily' for him, she intended to do that.

Ismeria channeled more power into her sigil and brought her other hand up. After waiting for a split second, she spread them to her sides.

---

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