"We have a basket of rolls," Tyler informed Ryan. "Want me to butter one up for you?"

"Yes, please," Ryan responded, and his servant got to work. "So, ladies, what brings you out to the resort? Here to ski, too?"

"We might do that," Amy responded, and Ryan noticed the guardedness in their minds. Judging by her voice, she was the friendly one from the mall, while the other had been mostly silent when Ryan was a part of the conversation. "We mostly came out here for the hot springs, spas, saunas, and for the museums in town."

"I see," Ryan said. "What a coincidence that you came here while an old friend of yours was here."

"Yes," she smiled, and Ryan noticed suspicion rising in their minds. "Tyler told us a few minutes ago that his cousin was treating him to a birthday trip, even if a bit late."

"A mixed trip, for both of our birthdays," Ryan smiled as Tyler finished buttering up the roll, then took one of Ryan's hands and placed the roll in it. "It's not often he gets to relax and enjoy himself, so I thought I'd force it onto him."

"Normally, people don't enjoy 'fun' that's forced on them," Tyler muttered.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Ryan responded with a smile, then took a bite of the roll.

"We weren't aware Tyler was a servant," Amy said. "He explained to us about… you. I hope that doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't," Ryan smiled. "Tyler's a good friend, he'd have not said something if it were an issue to. How long are you staying for?"

The moment he asked that, he noticed both of their minds panic for a moment. It wasn't a question they had been expected to be asked. Amy's suspicion raised a little higher, and Ryan noticed a touch of hostility in Nadia's.

"We aren't sure yet," Amy answered. "We're taking a year off before attending college, so we have plenty of time. Maybe two weeks, to give us enough time to enjoy the attractions around here. Maybe longer, depending on if we want to redo things. What about you?"

"Indefinite," Ryan answered as she reached for her glass of water. "We may stay for a few months."

"That seems rather long for a vacation," Amy responded.

"It might be," Ryan said. "As I said, we aren't sure. Tyler seems to be enjoying himself, and he seems to have made a friend in Michael. We'll at least stay through the end of the year, probably visit some of the galleries you've mentioned. Honestly, we could use the change of scenery, and there's plenty to do in this area."

Ryan let Tyler return to his previous discussion with the ladies, and the teen monitored their minds. He noticed some suspicion in Tyler's mind, especially whenever Nadia spoke. While she displayed some interest in him, it was less genuine than Amy's interest.

There were a few times he read their minds as well, but if the ladies had an ulterior motive, they were keeping it out of their minds. That didn't mean they didn't show a few other suspicious signs, which he noticed Tyler noticing as well.

Both Amy and Nadia noted that Ryan ate slightly messily, a side-effect of not being able to actually see his food. They also noticed anytime Tyler had to assist Ryan with something, and that he didn't react at all to someone moving by unless they made a noticeable noise.

Both also made observations of Tyler as well, and Ryan noticed Amy's thoughts about how loyal Tyler had seemed at school.

On and on it went, which only increased how suspicious Ryan was of the pair. After dinner, he tapped Tyler on the arm.

"I'll be returning to our suite," Ryan informed his servant. "You can enjoy the rest of your evening with these ladies, I'm sure you three have plenty to talk about."

"Thank you, sir," Tyler said.

Ryan nodded, then had one of his guards escort him back to his room. As soon as he was alone in there, he appraised the guard.

"Call my father and hand me your phone," Ryan ordered the guard.

A few moments later, the phone was pressed into his hand, and Ryan put it to his ear as the guard exited the room. It rang only once before his father answered, as he knew would happen. Either Ryan was calling, or there was an emergency, and both were reasons for his father to answer swiftly.

"Hello?" Ryan's father spoke, caution in his tone.

"Hello, Father," Ryan said.

"Hello, Ryan," his father said. "I meant to call you earlier, to see if Meredith had arrived yet, but was busy with something. I was intending on calling Tyler in a few minutes, as I thought you'd be finished with dinner by then."

"I just finished dinner," Ryan told his father. "Tyler's still down there, though. A couple of his former classmates are here, they seem to be pretty friendly, though I think this is his first time actually talking with them."

"So a change from the ladies who've been attempting to flirt with him, then?" His father asked.

"Yeah," Ryan sat on the sofa. "Actually, Father, I'm having a feeling that they aren't who they seem to be."

"What do you mean?" His father asked.

"I'm not certain," Ryan answered. "Just a feeling I have. Would you be able to look into them, though, just in case?"

"I can do that," his father answered. "Do you know their names?"

"Their first names," Ryan answered. "Amy and Nadia."

He hadn't thought about their last names, but that wasn't important. His father would likely know soon enough.

"They went to school with Tyler?"

"Yes, sir," Ryan answered. "Graduated with him back in May."

"That should be enough," his father told him. "I'll have someone investigate them, then I'll get back to you when it's finished."

"Thanks," Ryan said.

"You're welcome," his father said. "Now, onto something less serious, how is your vacation going?"

"Pretty nicely," Ryan answered. "Other than the issue I mentioned to you before."

His father had already talked with him twice, and Ryan had mentioned the annoyance he felt to the man on both occasions.

"It happened again today?" His father asked.

"Every day so far," Ryan sighed. "Why can't they be interested in me? You know that Tyler seems to have no interest in women at all, and me? Argh!"

His father laughed in response to Ryan's frustration, and the teen sighed again, then turned so he was laying on the sofa. He slipped off each shoe using his other foot and let them drop to the ground, his feet hanging over the arm of the sofa.

"That's probably for the better," his father told him. "If you get someone pregnant, Ryan, it could cause major problems for our family."

As Ryan would be resetting to before he slept with whoever he slept with, there would not truly be any long-term issues stemming from the encounter. He wasn't going to say that to his father, however, as it would mean revealing in that reset he was a chronomancer, which wasn't something he wished to do.

"If I happen to get someone pregnant," Ryan said. "We can detect it early enough to marry her to some random member of the family and make a claim that he was the one who impregnated her. We can use your mind magics to alter their memories to make them think that's what happened, too."

"Ryan…" his father began in an attempt to portray sternness, though the teen could hear the restrained chuckle.

"I know, I know," Ryan said. "I need to be careful because someone might claim that me sleeping around is further proof I am not worthy of acting as the Novar Family Head when it's time. I'm already suspicious of a couple of people, and I'm pretty sure at least one is sent by someone from one of our branch families. Tyler already told me that he recognized one of his cousins here."

"It's likely there are some people watching you," his father said. "Considering you're in a place that doesn't have the sort of restricted access which would make it impossible for a spy to get in and watch. Be careful, would you?"

"I know," Ryan sighed. "I've been keeping what I say to at least my usual stuff, with some goofiness mixed in. That last part, I can't help. It just sneaks up on me."

"As usual," his father chuckled.

"Oh, right," Ryan realized something. "By the way, with Meredith's paintings, I won't be wearing a coat in them. That's not her fault, I didn't put one on."

"Why not?" His father asked, concern clear in his voice. "If you were outside, then you should-"

"I'm fine, I promise," Ryan interrupted his father. "I, ah, know a spell which warms the air touching me. It allows me to go outside in the cold and not feel cold in the slightest."

His father was silent for a few minutes.

"Ryan, it took me six months to be able to use that spell with any proficiency over my entire body."

"That hot air you're full of probably interfered with the spell."

His father laughed in response, and Ryan smiled a little.

"I seem to learn spells easily," Ryan said. "You saw that when you taught me a few on my birthday. I'd gotten the idea to try and warm the air around me to ward off the cold, and figured out the spell. It did take me a few hours, but a thin layer of warmth is all it takes, and I just realized that I might be able to use that to dry myself off after a shower. I'm going to go test that theory."

"Enjoy!" His father laughed, then hung up.

Ryan grabbed the phone and returned it to the guard, then made his way to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He stripped out of his clothes and entered the shower, shutting off his magical senses. As he scrubbed himself, his mind wandered to a place he was unwilling to think about it.

The last time he was in any form of hotel, showering without someone close by. There was someone in one of the other bedrooms of the suite during that incident, but not in the shower, and not in the bedroom he had been using.

So far on their trip, Tyler was always close by when Ryan took a shower, mostly because his servant prepared his clothes for him, then waited outside the shower to ensure Ryan was properly dried.

His curiosity at the use of a spell put him in a situation he had not been in for ten years. Ryan's breathing increased as he remembered that night, when his mother had helped him into the shower, then went to her room to do something, likely to change into pajamas for a snuggle as she read him a book.

Ryan had enjoyed listening to his mother tell stories, and they were often what put him to sleep when he was little. She would change her voice for each character, adding in the emotions portrayed by the stories. She always had a tropical smell about her, a result of her favorite perfume.

He never heard her voice again after she left him in the shower. As he took his sweet time scrubbing himself, taking the usual half-hour he spent feeling the water hit him when he was younger, someone murdered his mother in the other bedroom.

Eight-year-old Ryan heard nothing of what happened, only knowing something was wrong because his mother didn't return to dry him off. He'd initially assumed she'd needed to do something else, so he did his best to dry himself off and dress in the clothes she'd set out on the bed in the room he was staying in within the suite.

Whoever the assassin was, they left him alone, and Ryan fell asleep waiting for his mother to come read him a story goodnight. His father found her body when he returned a few hours later, and then immediately checked Ryan. He'd initially thought the boy was dead, too, but quickly realized he was only sleeping.

Ryan never went near his mother's body, and he didn't know what his father's expression was upon realizing his son was, in fact, alive. All he knew was that the assassin went after his mother and not him.

Sighing, Ryan slammed the side of his fist into the shower. He had not wanted to return to that night, but his mind had traveled there anyway. He missed his mother probably as much as his father did, and did his best to not think about the night someone murdered her. A knife through the heart, his father had told him.

The teen finished his shower, then turned it off and heated the air touching him while sensing only the water and air within a few inches of him. It took only a few seconds for him to be completely dry, and he realized too late that by speed-drying his hair while it was still a little spiky from being washed, his hair was still spiky after.

"Is everything okay?" A voice asked, and Ryan jumped, then slipped on the wet floor of the tub.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed as he fell, quickly expanding his sense of air and manipulating the air around him to cushion his head as it smacked the wall of the shower on his way down. "Oof!"

The shower door was pushed open, and Ryan sensed his servant within his range. He didn't need to use his empathy to know his servant was concerned at the fall.

"I'm fine," Ryan rubbed his arm, which he'd bumped on his way down. "Though my ass isn't. I didn't hear you come in."

"I arrived a few minutes before the end of your shower," Tyler answered, helping Ryan up and out of the shower. "I heard you pound the wall, then you were pretty still after, so I was worried. I suppose my worry caused you to hurt yourself, sorry."

"It's alright," Ryan smiled at him. "I was thinking about the night… the night Mother was killed. I guess if you'd been in the other bedroom, and I knew about it, I'd have probably gone into a panic attack or something. It's not pleasant, revisiting that night."

"I'm sure," his servant began to hold out the towel, then frowned. "You're already mostly dry. That's weird."

"Oh, right," Ryan chuckled. "I was holding still because I was trying out a spell."

He heated up the air touching him again, drying himself from the water that got on him from his fall.

"There we go," Ryan smiled, stretching out his empathy just to know his servant's response. "Now you don't have to towel me off anymore! Perfect! instant-drying!"

Relief entered Tyler's mind, confirming to Ryan that his servant wasn't comfortable with that part of his duty. Even if they were friends, Tyler wouldn't have stopped performing his duties or mentioned how uncomfortable they made him.

"I'm going to get dressed," Ryan told Tyler. "Then relax until bedtime, alright?"

"Alright," Tyler said. "Your pajamas are already on your bed."

"Thank you," Ryan said, then exited the bathroom and entered his room.

Tyler remained long enough to ensure Ryan dressed without issue, then left, and Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head into his hands. It took him awhile to recover from revisiting that night in his memories, and once he did, he made a decision that from then on, in that and all future resets where he was in a hotel-type accommodation, he was not going to put himself into that situation ever again. The islands did not bring him back because he was staying in a studio-style house, but it was clear that staying in any form of hotel would likely do it if he were in that type of situation once more.

"Resets," Ryan muttered, then frowned.

If he could reset, then could he not return to the night his mother was killed? Could he not grow powerful enough to stop her death in the first place? His resets completely erased anything which occurred after the point he returned to, which meant things would be vastly different. Only he would know what happened.

And if he became powerful enough, then he could stop it with ease, no matter who killed his mother.

Laying back on the bed, Ryan admitted to himself that his goal of becoming the next Gray Mage was likely the excuse his subconsciousness came up with to grow more powerful. Powerful enough to rest back to when he was eight years old… and kill the one who killed his mother.

Before the bastard succeeded in his goal.