❝ To be truly strong is to not only train the body —

But the mind and soul itself. ❞ 

— Guidepost for the Saints; Chapter Nine — Clause Two 

---o--- 

The gentle pitter-patter of rain against stained glass woke her; blurred vision gradually stabilised as she opened her eyes. A far gentler method of regaining consciousness than she was used to, so often jolted awake by phantom pains and nightmarish phantasms. She was not a stranger to the frequent fits of nightmares of youth despite being so young herself. A harsh life indeed, but not unique, just her particular flavour of trauma that she and she alone had to bear. Elly was entirely unused to the feeling of uninterrupted sleep, though the fatigue felt was all too familiar, an unfamiliar guest who refused to leave, always there, always looming. Her body felt heavy; weighted down into the mattress she felt was a tad too firm to get a proper night’s rest. Her first thought went to water, parched lips, dry throat scratched, pained coughs feeling as though her lungs were full of glass. Hunger, too, albeit oddly snuffed by a dull ache felt with every breath. 

A brief lapse in memory flooded back with the sharp pains she felt through her body, recalling her recent battle. The pinkette attempted to move but could only wince in pain; Elly breathed sharply and felt the wound in her abdomen ache. It was difficult to breathe, only managed to wheeze shallow breaths to avoid the stabbing pain she felt. Was it hunger, perhaps? No — absent of the familiar pangs and grumble of the gut, this dull ache harkened a momentary panic; her one good arm hastily touched and checked for wounds, confirming that the damage was mostly internal. Such pains forced back her attempt to sit up. Breath escapes with a groan, the awareness and understanding of her haphazard and frankly ill-brained schemes. Taking on an entire group of bandits? At her age? Daft she was, and she knew that fact well, proverbially kicking herself for not simply running and hiding until her peers caught up to her.  

❛ Well, this sucks... ❜ 

Still groggy and uncertain of where she was, she looked around the otherwise empty room. It took a moment for her to realise where she was, and visibly relaxed once she was sure this was indeed her bedroom. Oh, right; she was living in Baria for the moment while she went through her training. To be a knight was a dream for her; despite her lack of etiquette and eloquence, one must display the lynchpins of nobility and honour. Pfft — Elly knew there was little honour gained, a life of gruelling battles and little reward, a soldier and pawn to the wealthy aristocrats and feudal lords of the land. Well, not entirely; the Knighthood had gone through much change over the past decade or two, and the current leader, the ‘Knight King’ Phinnis, saw to that. A squat and youthful man, defying his near half-century age, small in stature only and not in gumption and gall, carving out his path through politics and combat to take the seat at the top. Despite his nature, he was the humble sort when not dealing with such things, kind to a fault and generous still.  

The aforementioned nation-state of Baria is one of the ‘five’ nations among the conglomerate of Agrovia. A rather large collection of monarchies allied into a federation of sorts, by politics only, and an empire by way of the sword. A relatively decent-sized continent but by far not the largest nor smallest; somewhere in the middle, but one with such advantage that it was in constant step with multiple hostile nations. The coveted home of the great tree, the imposing form that pierced into the heavens and beyond, apparently able to be seen all over the world no matter one’s latitude or longitude. Whether just by lore only or the deep magick imbued, the tree was revered by all as the source of all life.  

The five major states were situated at the various roots of the tree, giving advantage to access to free energy and whatnot, though Candria was favoured the most as it sat essentially at its base. Just shy of the trunk and tall ivory walls that encircled the great forest in which it resides. Strangely enough, one would think its shadow would cast over much of the continent and Candria especially, but once more, the peculiar magick at play made it almost translucent, ethereal and generous in its ability to allow light to pass through. Technically, there were six major nation-states, but that one was essentially a free state and not tied to any of the noble houses. There are a few smaller neutral regions that aren’t explicitly tied to a state or nation. Many were small cities or statelets that weren’t aligned to one another but an outpost and manifestation of the long-standing alliance, a melting pot of cultures. The kingdom of Baria is located to the west of the continent’s capital, Candria.  

The pinkette stared blankly up at the ceiling, which hung over tall walls divided with pillars of ornate stone carved into various depictions and arches, reached upward to the centre of the moderately sized room where a chandelier hung. The soft light of candles danced from various positions around the room, which appeared to be a bedchamber, hosting a single moderately sized bed, multiple bookshelves, and a small desk off the corner. It was modest, not as simple as much of the scribes or squires, a small perk enjoyed that her peers weren’t privy too. Still, it didn’t have the facilities desired as one would have in Candria, such as running hot water, though one could make do by manually heating it. If one's schedule afforded them the time to do so. So, the pinkette preferred that luxury for evenings after supper, a great way to unwind and relax muscles sore from training. 

Elly lay on her bed quietly, listening to the rain beat upon the window and stone walls of the building and revelling in her removal from the thrums and throngs of life. Peaceful, reminding her of her home in Candria, where she spent many late nights reading with her adoptive father and mentor — Veld. Such a peculiar man indeed, not unlike many of the eccentrics in the capital; Veld was his own unique brand of strange. A foreigner from a land far and one seemingly unnamed, rather he always forgot to mention exactly where it was he hails from. Not surprising, given his wandering tendencies, never able to settle in one place for long without the urge to explore the unknown. He was just about the only person she felt safe around; her unease and inability to trust were a product of her youth. There were plenty of others, though she hadn’t grown close to most. 

❛ I wonder how the geezer is doing... ❜ 

Even here, in Xerxes, the capital of the neighbouring nation-state, Baria. A large, bustling city of quaint castle-like architecture full of knights and all kinds of unique cultures. Elly had fallen in love with the city when she was little and always wanted to become a knight and, perhaps one day, a Paladin. As if! Just a brat, she was, an ill-mannered one at that too. Always brash and ready to jump headfirst into danger. Her main reason for being here was to participate in extra-curricular activities at the central academy in Agrovia — ASMA. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, the pinkette did not do all too well in most classes; she often clashed with her teachers and the man responsible for her studies — Romeo. The two often butted heads, and more often than not, Elly used him as a proverbial punching bag and a literal one at times. 

At least she was somewhere safe now; surviving a group of bandits at her age while severely injured was quite the feat. Despite her latent abilities and unorthodox way of fighting, she was not used to relying solely on her prosthetic for combat. More often than not, she fought with her fists and used her left arm to block and disarm her opponents. Elly was lucky to have such a luxury, thankfully granted by happenstance and the favourable connections her father had, which gave her access and familiarity to the upper echelon of the continent, a fact she did not forget her luck for. The primary purpose was that Elly had little control over her output, often broke her prosthetics and had been lectured by Areyth far too many times, so she made sure to use it only for defensive purposes. 

❛ Ugh. Guess I won’t be training for a while. ❜ 

Her head spun as though to indicate her still-weakened state. Her injuries were still fresh, so she couldn’t have been out for more than a few days. When the pinkette tried to shift her weight so she could get out of bed, the wave of nausea and throbbing pain was almost enough to make her pass out. One more glance down at her abdomen so tightly woven and bound in gauze and bandages, the creeping sense of understanding she had possibly ruptured a few internal organs was not lost on her. A penance paid for her insolence; Elly should have known that cheating for power always ends up in pain, as the laws of the world require. Only those who persevere and sacrifice the most can achieve extraordinary powers. Accepting that she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Elly sighed deeply. Already wide awake, nothing was left to do except stare at the ceiling and ride the pain. Perhaps she could muster enough strength to reach for one of her books piled up on the small table nearby. 

Not a chance; no reprieve of paper or parchment to subside her boredom! Not for nothing, this petulant child deserved for her stupidity. Elly had been careless, too engrossed in the heat of battle to take precautions and leave last resort for just that — Last. Stupid! Stupid! A foolish action Elly should have known would have much more significant effects on her given her size and already fragile constitution from an ailment she has had all her life. Every fibre of her body throbbed; even opening her eyes laboured the little energy left. If Elly had taken the time to read the label, she would have known that the dose was portioned for a full-sized adult, a soldier, and surely not a pipsqueak like her.  

But she survived her first real fight, managing to handle an entire squad of bandits on her own. A feat that would no doubt be praised, but her forehead ached in anticipation of the impending lecture from her superior, Iris. She’s gonna be pissed, not only for Elly’s careless bravery but for using — let alone possessing a prohibited potion. Would she go easy on her if she admitted Veld gave it to her? Nah, it would only turn her ire toward the old man, and as bad of an influence he was on her, she still cared enough to take it on the chin herself. 

The heat of battle and her altered state made the memory of the battle hazy; she could only recall some parts of it. Rigging the explosives, mostly things before she took the drugs, but the awakening of a new sense was something that remained even after the drugs wore off. Though she couldn’t quite use it now, the giddy feeling of her first ‘power’ of sorts lifted her spirits somewhat. Elly had hoped for something flashier, more her style, but it meant she wasn’t entirely a dud when it came to magick. Not that she had any idea of what it was or what it could do, plus how to activate it. But those can be worked out later when she doesn’t feel like she had been put through a meat grinder. 

❝ For someone who almost died, you’re smiling like a fool. ❞ A familiar voice broke the silence and nearly had the pinkette jump out of her skin. 

As they always say, speak of the devil, and they shall appear. The sudden break in silence jolted Elly, who thought she was alone, her gaze shifting to look over at the direction it came. Now looming above her was a head of long golden hair and eyes upon a scowling face. Knowing who it was immediately, Elly visibly sweats but, as always, felt the sudden pang of happiness at a face she always found, one she often went to for advice or comfort. A long pause between words, not daring to move or respond to the woman that loomed over her; expression of disappointment and subtle anger, not a rare find for the uncouth child who so often gave reason for it. Just when Elly caved and went to respond, the woman let out a sigh before giving Elly’s forehead a flick with her finger — Ow!  

❝ I swear I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you finding new ways to show your stupidity, idiot child. ❞ The woman added, not withholding her annoyance and concerns. 

Lady Iris Isabella Archibald Von Clyve; a woman of tall stature and considerable beauty, oft a splash of gold among her peers from both appearance and attire worn. Iris is Elly’s superior and one of her mentors, specifically in charge of her training to become a Knight. Moreover, she was the closest thing to family Elly had; an elder sister who she loved dearly, always so doting and sometimes overprotective. As a role model for the young pinkette, Iris taught her many things, from proper etiquette and formalities to the more mundane things. A much-needed balance to Elly’s adoptive father, Veld, who wasn’t the wisest choice to emulate, though his mind was sharp as anything, perhaps the most intelligent person on the continent, save for Areyth, of course! 

Iris, granted the moniker of [Titania], holds the rank of Paladin; one of thirteen — and one of the Saints of Ohr Shefa, the main hierarchy of Agrovia, which encompassed not only the military but also most of the major organisations throughout the various nation-states of the continent. As a Paladin, Iris headed one of the sixteen ‘Crusades’ of the Knighthood, which takes after the months in the Illyahn calendar year. Yes, sixteen! Mostly due the four moons which while appearing to move in two-tandem have significantly larger orbits; each one marking the cycles of weeks in eight days, months in six weeks, years in sixteen months, and quadrennials in four years. Seconds, minutes, and hours are the same though a day costs thirty-two hours. But semantics aside; Iris leads the crusade 'Adonai Aniyi’ the Thirteenth Month of the Illyahn Calendar Year, and the month which hosts the Autumn Equinox’. 

The Saints, coequally known as the “Sifre Kodesh” or “Holy Books”, are considered the most influential people not only in Agrovia but across Illyah, said to be granted four “Rites of Ascension”. Such rites weren’t known, and coveted by their users, powers so rarely used and only reserved for last. Iris is the only person ever to hold the ranks of Paladin and Saint simultaneously. A marvel indeed, someone Elly wanted to take after, but the brat knew she had a loooong way to go for that! Iris holds the position of the “Tenth” Saint. Her brother Romeo is the “Seventh”. 

Though they weren’t related by blood, Iris and Elly shared the same last name: Von Clyve. Iris herself is a member by blood, but Elly herself was, though unofficially, adopted into the family as a younger sister to Iris and her brother. Yes, Elly was an orphan, which was not so rare in these times and not in Agrovia; despite its many upsides, it has just as many downsides. The pinkette was just above half a decade old when Veld found her in some backwater on a foreign continent. Lost and alone, distrustful of people and absent of any civility, almost feral in nature — a problem child indeed. But one who had the grace of loving peers and those who saw the potential to invest time into; for that, she was grateful, even if she didn’t show it at times.  

Von Clyve wasn’t an active familia per se, as there were only a handful of them left, most of whom were either married or absorbed into one of the other noble houses. Von Clyve was also formerly the Noble House that ruled over Baria. Whatever the case, it was now defunct Noble House that Iris herself had been a member of before it was essentially disbanded. She was taken in by Candria’s royal bloodline, the Archibald family, along with her twin brother Romeo. 

Baria had recently gone through a civil war, resulting in the familia disbanding, now run by the Knighthood and its Paladins under the ‘Knight King’ Phinnis Caravaugn. That name is more of an honorary title granted to whoever is selected and given the ‘Xerxes’ name. The name is taken after one of the most famous Paladins ever — Vladimir Pompey Xerxes. The Capital City of Baria was also named after him. Both Romeo and Iris were offered the positions of ruler, but both refused, already devoted to their positions. Iris herself was also offered a hand in marriage to Phinnis. However, neither of them had any romantic feelings toward each other, so it was more formal than anything. Well, offered is a strong term; rather, the Knighthood advisors suggested it. Both Phinnis and Iris promptly declined. 

They both chose to keep the last name and later gave it to Elly as her father, Veld, oddly had no last name or at least refused to mention it. He did give her the middle name of ‘Serendine’, taken from the word serendipity, a fortunate find. Fitting for a man who spent the majority of his life as a wandering merchant, eventually settled in on the outskirts of Candria to set up his shop ‘Scarlet Orchard’, well-known for its rare items and curious. It also reminded her of the word serene, a feeling she oft felt when stargazing from the roof of his shop, so far removed from the thrum of the city. A place one could escape when the weight of the civilised world bore down, a place to find peace and quiet, at least when Veld wasn’t fighting off phantasms and occasional cursed items he bought back from his ventures. Or when the guild came to audit him, which was always a fun time.

But that’s enough for the semantics and complicated ecosystem of Agrovia for now. 

❝ Big sis Iris? I thought you were stuck in Candria. ❞ 

Elly stuttered, attempting once more to sit up but was both stopped by her body refusing to, and Iris, who promptly grabbed her nose as she always did when she was mad. This made the Pinkette whine and reach for Iris’s hand before she let go; the pinkette promptly rubbed her now red nose. Such usual routine for the two: pinched nose and cheeks, forehead flicks, things the pinkette found annoying but grew accustomed to the displays of affection and worry. It was a relief that Iris wasn’t as mad as she expected, but the look of concern on Iris’s face made it clear she was more worried than angry. Plus, the dark rings under her eyes indicated she hadn’t left Elly’s side since she returned from Candria. 

❝ I got back three days ago. When I heard about what had happened, I rushed back here. You’ve been out for a whole week. ❞ Indeed, the fatigue in the woman's voice made it clear she hadn’t rested at all. 

Iris sighed, grabbing the chair she had been sitting in to pull it closer to the bed before she sat back down, now seated right next to the bed and in clear view. She then leaned over to help Elly sit, propping her up with a pillow so she didn’t put pressure on her body. It took the pinkette a moment, needing to catch her breath as she felt the dull ache threaten to force up the meagre food in her stomach, more of a slurry of liquid diet required to subside her since her gut was almost entirely torn to shreds. Thank the high heavens for the expert healers and medics achieving literal miracles at times. Helping her sit up also allowed Iris to look over Elly’s wounds, which had been well-attended but still a while before they fully healed. Though saddened, Iris seemed relieved Elly’s wounds weren’t as severe as anticipated. 

❝ I swear – That old fuck is lucky I only received the details when I got back here. But you’re no better yourself, idiot child. ❞ Iris exclaimed, adding her usual nickname for Elly, which she used whenever annoyed. 

Ah, so she already knew who gave it to her. Not like it wouldn’t have taken long for Iris to figure it out, but it meant both she and Veld were on her shit list, the old man especially. It was unclear where he even got his hands on it, but Veld was well known for selling all kinds of rare curios! Yes, it couldn’t have been the fault of this innocent child, right!? Right? Though utterly irresponsible, he had his reasons for giving it to Elly. Not the first time too; sometimes slipping her the odd item that got her into more trouble than a slap on the wrist. She never stole, though, a bizarre fact despite her background as an urchin who had to steal to survive. The pinkette pursed her lips and glanced down at her arm; as she looked back to Iris, the woman took Elly into her arms to hug her. It hurt somewhat, but Elly visibly relaxed and attempted to hug her back. 

❝ I’m glad you’re safe. I was so worried, but why the hell did you think that was a good idea? ❞ Her tone softened, relieved of the stronger cadence she took on when lecturing Elly. It always bought out her strong Brogue accent, which Elly shared with her. 

Iris’s voice expressed her worry and relief. Elly wasn’t sure how to respond; she had no excuses for what she did other than her impatience and haphazard decisions. It was better not to justify her actions; Iris knew the situation and that Elly was left with little choice. Cornered and without the aid of her peers who had been divided and hunted like rabbits, all of which managed feats like Elly, though most of them were two or three people to a team. A noteworthy feat indeed! One she could stand proud of; once, she felt the sting of a cane for her idiocy. It was far from ideal; Iris would have blamed herself for not being there if Elly died. Unlike her brother Romeo, she was always a doting and overprotective elder sister who scolded Elly more than she did. Of course, this was also because he was Elly’s tutor and the Headmaster of ASMA. Admittedly, Elly also made a point to torment him and the two often butted heads. 

❛ I’ll tell her about ‘that’ later... ❜ 

---o--- 

The mild scent of sweetened tea, a regular addition to their downtime, is a favourite brew of Iris; it is taken after the place it is harvested, Liliwyrt. A small but well-known estate in the western region of Agrovia, Llorne. It was a quaint place that focused on cultivating a variety of herbs used for teas and, more often, potions and remedies of all sorts. A place that many wandering would-be herbalists visit to learn, though oft turned away by the outwardly bitter yet sweet old woman who took up residence there. It borders the Eilon region, famous for its four waterfalls. The tea wasn’t too fancy: a mild flowery pallet with slight undertones of herbs. Known for its calming properties, it was a perfect fit for relaxation. 

❝ Hey! Ow — That hurts! ❞ 

The pinkette whined, squirming somewhat as she lay on the floor by the fireplace that cast its warmth and light on the small enclave in the far corner of her room. Warm and dry, isolated from the drab wetness and greyed skies outside, so typical for the current seasons that it was only just beginning to warm. Lady Iris sat by her side, kneeling with Elly’s left arm on her lap as she inspected the prosthetic for any damages, taking the time to lubricate the hinges that were beginning to seize from Elly’s lack of proper care and misuse.

❝ Well, it wouldn’t hurt so much if you took better care of it yourself, idiot child. ❞ Iris replied, tapping Elly’s nose as she did. 

Iris paid no mind to the protests, taking her time cleaning every inch of it, tightening any loosened joints that were most required, and taking notes of those that needed replacing from small cracks and other damages. It always amazed her at the fine details and accuracy of the perfectly sized and fitted appendage made specifically for Elly. One that would be worth well over ten thousand Vael!, yet was a gift by its creator who saw potential in the young child.

Thankfully, the main housing for the nerves and the ‘bones’ weren’t damaged, though much of the outer plating needed touching up from dents and a few scratches. The hidden wire Elly made use of needed attention; almost frayed but usable with care. If anything, Iris was surprised Elly hadn’t destroyed it like the others, though this model was far more durable than Elly's previous prosthetics. More durable and far more expensive. Checking over its various parts; Iris reached over to a small box of canisters, slipping them back into their slots and locking the latch so they wouldn’t fall out unless used.

❝ Yeah, but it’s hard doing it myself; I always screw up the calibrations, and it hurts like hell! ❞ The pinkette pouted, finding it difficult to stay still for so long. 

She wasn’t lying, and Iris was well aware of the meticulous nature of the prosthetic and the pain it caused Elly when she tightened the nerves and joints. It was a marvel of design for their time but one that few knew how to repair or conduct routine maintenance. Not a single workshop on the continent was equipped with the proper tools and training to deal with Elly’s arm, aside from Areyth herself, who designed the thing. A trifle indeed! Even Iris wasn’t technical enough to do the more intricate repairs and maintenance, so it often resulted in Elly visiting her in Candria. The trip alone takes at least three days; depending on how busy Areyth is, Elly could wait a while to be seen. 

❝ While in Candria, I did bump into Areyth and asked her about your arm. She asked me to let you know you’re due for service; said she’s working on something special for you, so who knows what she’s plotting. ❞ Iris chimed, reaching for the following tool she needed from the small toolkit by her side, rolled out to neatly present all the required tools to fix Elly’s prosthetic — a toolbag she took great pains in making sure Elly never lost. 

Elly didn’t seem entirely enthused about the idea. Though she has known Areyth since she was little, the woman always puts her on edge. Never knowing what that woman was thinking or plotting, she tended to look at others in a way that seemed to regard others in the same ways she did her peculiar inventions. Areyth had a knack for obsessions with one thing or another, and Elly’s arm was one such fixation. As all her designs intended, a challenge taken and well-thrashed worked far better than expected, almost as good, if not better, than her actual arm! It lacked tactility and feeling, though, which was possibly its only downside. 

Areyth Valentine Crowley, like Iris, is a Saint. Holding the position of “Ninth” and being in charge of the entire research and development sector of Agrovia. Its main headquarters is in the free state of Sasan, also where the ASMA Campus is located. Unlike her peers, she is quite the oddity; as most Saints are “Fifteenth Generation” or beyond, save for the Commander who is a “First Generation”, Areyth herself is a “Third Generation”. Areyth is what one would call a ‘Homunculus’; an artificial life form that was solely made for the purpose of continuing their research. A clay doll, Areyth oft called herself, though for a living lump of mud, she surely had real emotion and agency, at least beyond her insatiable lust for understanding the world. A busy-bodied woman of endless hunger for knowledge and exploring her many, many works, she is a true genius of her time and one that put Agrovia far into the future of technology compared to the rest of Illyah. 

❝ Oh, joy. ❞ Elly grumbled; her focus now shifted to the ceiling, which danced with the light and shadows of the fireplace. She was still tired, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open, though the pangs of pain from Iris’s handiwork jolted her back to the living world. 

The pinkette sighed, deciding to take a mental note to visit Areyth when she’s back in Candria, whenever that will be. But it did mean she got to see Alina too, another person who’s an elder sister of sorts to Elly. Alina is not only the princess of Candria but also one of the Saints, the “Sixth”; plus, she is in charge of the Imperial Library, one of the most extensive collections of knowledge from across the world. Elly often shared tea with Alina as they caught up with each other. Oddly enough, Alina herself is entirely blind, such a fragile beauty of pale hair and skin who rarely leaves the library unless called for her royal duties. Alina is widely known for her kindness toward others, unlike her callous father, Regis Archibald, the “Emperor”, who is just a mouthpiece for the church.  

He was a mostly embittered and arrogant man, so quick to bend over backwards for the church but entirely ignorant or deafened to the needs of the hungry and poor. Having married into the royal blood rather than born into it, he acted so gung-ho and made no qualms about using his power however he pleased. His wife, however, was a true-to-nature beauty, so far beyond what he should have been able to court. Sadly, she was a few years passed; the nation still mourning the significant loss of their widely revered and loved queen. Thankfully, checks and balances were in place to dampen his sometimes-destructive tendencies. The other members of the ‘Five Crowns’ were well adjusted to his nature and acted swiftly to snuff out whatever half-brained idea he cooked up that day — an intolerable and unintelligent faux-intellectual who attempted philosophy but came off as trite and petulant.  

As previously mentioned, Elly isn’t the brightest, but she’s made great strides in learning and reading up on everything she was interested in. She still failed most of her classes but knows Magicks and its various applications and types. Given that she had great trouble using it herself, her obsessions with learning everything she could about it made up for her inability to ascertain the nature of powers her foes use quickly. However, knowledge is not the ability to counter them, so Elly typically took the role of scout of sorts, relaying information to her peers so they could adequately prepare and counter it. A mind so full of wisdom for the arcane but almost entirely ignorant of everything else. Ignorant and naive. 

Moreover, she had grown accustomed to her ‘Kli’, essentially the adventurers' toolbag in the form of a utility belt, a staple for any soldier with modular kits for various purposes. From survival tools to rations, medical kits, weapons, and whatever else one may find helpful. Elly mostly used it to stock her arsenal and rations. Occasionally, Elly would add a few unique items she could use in tandem with her prosthetic. The dart gun especially, something so often found a use for and saved her many times. Thankfully, she could keep a decent stock of her items without hurting her wallet, usually receiving an allowance to restock for missions that came out of her final paycheck.  

It was technical work, one she struggled with at first but is now reasonably confident in her skills; plus, with her new ‘ability’, she would be even better at it. Elly was already growing impatient with her condition and wanted to return to the throngs of her usual life. Being cooped up in her room was a tedium Elly grew sick of, knowing she had possibly finally achieved ‘Metatonia’, a catch-all term for people when they awaken their innate powers, the first and probably most challenging step in the path of a mage. Elly wasn’t alone in her inability; many of her peers were not gifted with such things themselves. Some were, all of which were considered as ‘prodigies’ and were put on the short-list to join Ohr Shefa. 

❛ Just wait, you snarky fuck. ❜ The pinkette momentarily broke her train of thought for an offhand comment directed at one particular person. 

Elly hoped to one day rank among the Saints but knew it was a steep path she had no chance of achieving. Usually, one would require a long tenure in one or more of the various organisations and being a member of the “Aliyat Shofetim”. A group of individuals who were blessed with an ‘Arcana’, taking the form of the Tarot and consisting of twenty-two members. Of course, Elly knew it was an insurmountable task because every position in both organisations was filled. It would require one of the members to either retire, be promoted, or die. Plus, there was already a relatively long list of individuals who were much higher on the list of candidates than she was. 

Maybe she could join as a proper member of Ohr Shefa and work by Iris’s side. That sounds nice. But as always, Elly was getting way ahead of herself, considering she still had a year or two left before graduating from ASMA. Perhaps she could take an early exam as Romeo did when he was her age. Well, earlier than her — Apparently graduating from the academy when he was six, becoming a Saint at only twelve years old after working under most, if not all, of the major factions. Elly was unsure whether to believe it, considering how unorthodox his teaching methods were to the point of being dangerous at times. 

But even then, that annoying deadpan fuck was almost always spot-on and was so highly regarded by the entire Ohr Shefa. It didn’t stop Elly from kicking the ever-loving shit out of him when they butted heads, which happened often as the two always found new ways of messing with each other. A love-hate relationship of sorts; Elly would frequently say she disliked him but never hated him, and despite their all-too-frequent quarrels, Romeo was always looking out for her. The two just had an odd way of expressing their affection. However, Elly wondered if he intentionally riled her up so she could vent her frustrations, something she’d had difficulty with her whole life. 

❝ There, all fixed up for now. But you should take up Areyth’s offer; it’s becoming more challenging to fix the longer you hold it off. Plus, most of your tools are old and need to be replaced. ❞ Iris sighed, setting down the small wrench while wiping Elly’s arm and cleaning up her temporary workstation. Once done, she set the repair kit on the small table nearby. 

❝ Yeah, yeah, I know; I need to restock my items after that last battle. I broke or lost most of it. ❞ 

Elly winced again, not from the pangs of pain but the anticipation of her already modest wallet being drained dry. Elly wasn’t yet an actual ‘adventurer’ but took on odd jobs here and there to earn money when she had the time. Being a trainee knight, Elly had the opportunity to go on low-level missions. Still, nothing too conspicuous and most of the missions Iris went on were far above her ability. 

The pinkette’s train of thought was broken as she felt a tap on her nose, shifting her focus back to Iris, who gently placed a small silk sack on the pinkettes face. The shifting clinks and familiar shapes were, no doubt — Money. Just as Elly shook it off with mild protest at its sudden appearance, though not withholding the stupid grin on her face, she looked up to Iris, who was now making her way over to the door with teacups and platters in hand. Elly pouted somewhat at her friend's departure, though she knew Iris had other matters needing her attention. 

❝ The old man sends his regards. Get some rest, Bubblegum~ ❞ 

---o--- 

❝ I think I’ve gotten enough rest for a month. I guess I can kill time with this~ ❞ 

Sleep, she did not. Elly already pointed her focus on one of her many books: novels and encyclopaedias. One primarily fixated on the nature of magick and how one can use it, giving her at least a tad more knowledge to use her meagre abilities. As of now, she was attempting to broaden her understanding of her newfound talent: an ocular ability or was it sensory? How could she activate it at will? Was it a mere fluke, a byproduct of her heightened senses? For now, she must wait, toiling until her body is healed enough to train. Her arm was still hurting, but it was well on its way. Her stomach was no better than it was earlier. The medication helped, despite her protests at them from their bitter tastes and occasional side effects, albeit not as strong as the ‘Euphoria’ she ingested. Hah! Such hypocrisy! Ironic in that case; not thinking twice about taking an illegal and harmful drug but protesting the things crucial to her recovery from its effects. 

As of now, Elly sits perched up near her window, using her pillows for support and ease of comfort. In her lap sat a book, large and leatherbound, its hardened cover opened to display the crusty yellow pages within. Elly often found herself drawn to it when her fickle interests desired it: a ‘Taxonomy of the Elements and their Kin’. The author of this text was Argus Samford, one of the founders of the current Research and Development sectors; at the time of its creation, it went by the name ‘CREST’, now under Areyth’s stead, it was later named ‘URN’, an abbreviation as many of the organisations were, so many to take note of and remember. It was some four hundred years since he put ink to paper, a rare and valuable find indeed, of course, gifted to her by none other than Veld. This particular encyclopaedia focused on the various Elementals and their natures, how to summon and best use them, and so on. Apparently, it was not his own research but rather the work of his mentor, who supposedly detested the written word and kept her secrets to herself. Mysterious indeed. 

The text was somewhat advanced for her, but her familiarity with it gave her a further than surface-level understanding. Oddly drawn to the Elementals and their respective Magicks. Not only due to their ties to the fundamentals and differentiating classes of Magick but also due to the variety and unique natures they took. Elly couldn’t use them as she so dearly wished, but her knowledge was practical when dealing with them. Occasionally, they would cause chaos whenever someone disturbed them, usually by walking into their domain or taking or moving things they claimed as theirs. Like most Fae-kind, they were fickle and difficult to tame, full of trickery and unpredictability.  

Hell, her elder sister Iris was granted her title solely because she was the preeminent tamer of Elementals in Agrovia, hosting a broad set of skills she was sure to pass on to Elly, who dutifully soaked every little detail up. It was before her time, but apparently, Iris received her title after she fought off and subjugated an entire ‘Grove’; she was even able to take out their ‘Kingpin’! A group of Nature Elementals known as ‘Sprouts’ or, more commonly, ‘Nymphs’; ones who had been corrupted by some unknown means and had turned on their local village. 

Her particular draw to this book was her semi-awakening since most fae were difficult to detect, let alone see without such powers. Yes, perhaps this could help her in dealing with them. Maybe even catching and forming contracts with them, though that feat requires a strong mind and will, any show of weakness used against the binder. At least she had her arsenal of element-based items, from bombs to other utilities. Ideas and theories of new ways to use them flowed, taking the mind off injury to invest in her hobbies enough so the pain felt was almost not worth mentioning. Giddy, the pinkette glanced over to the small sack of gold coins, a large coffer of money far beyond any mission would afford her. She could just as quickly restock her items with one piece alone! The old fart must have made a killing on the new stock of peculiar things in his shop; maybe he managed to finally sell some of those rotting antiques he refused to scrap? Who knows, but Elly would thank him properly when she next saw him. 

Far too ensconced in her book, Elly lost track of time and only became aware of it when she heard the tolling of the bell that resided in the monetary, which periodically sang out to alert those nearby to stand at the ready for oncoming arrivals. Usually, a returning band of knights and whatnot; with her attention now drawn to the window, the pinkette peered out, only able to see over the courtyard wall to the gates beyond. A smile beamed; the more familiar face of one of her dear friends and fellow Paladin to Iris, Kuvira Sylvanna Lioness. A well-respected yet all-too-modest knight, a head of bronzy-tawny hair with the slightest hints of ginger, a face of significant beauty though buried under a considerable number of scars. Not so well-endowed as some of her peers; modest in body and demeanour though well-toned and battleworn. Known by her moniker [Dragons Gambit], Kuvira headed the third crusade of the Knighthood, “Adonai March”. 

❝ Vira! ❞ 

Elly almost jumped out of her bed before remembering her wounds and the fact that she was most definitely not dressed to go outside, not in her pyjamas, at least! She must wait until tomorrow if Kuvira doesn’t run off on another mission. Perhaps she would visit Elly, no doubt ready to scold her as Iris did, but a welcomed friend to make her recovery not as dull as it was. Her expression changed somewhat, noticing Kuvira and her group's sorry state, a group of far fewer people who had left. Elly frowned, feeling the unease set back into place. It's just the thing to sour the already glum mood.