Everything seemed to be in place when Euphemia entered her bedroom, except that most of her belongings were kept in stacks that were three boxes high. Opposite her bed to the right was the vanity mirror that was cleared of everything on its tabletop. None of the servants were around when she arrived, leaving her to sort things out and where to find them on her own. The familiar scent of fresh linen rose out of the bed - the sheets were recently replaced by the housekeepers.

Her dress rack has been emptied; understandable, the canoness thought, like her visit to the manse was too sudden for the servants to make any room preparations possible. Besides, the place was tidy but to the point of it looking almost barren. This room was still too lavish compared to what was provided by the convent, where a bed with a blanket and a single pillow were the staple, along with a desk and chair for writing, a bookcase for keeping bibles, scriptures and tomes, and a window to let the sun in. Some sisters of the Order were a little more creative; flower arrangements in small pots were permitted, as well as wooden images of The Creator's Radiance to be arranged as miniature altars.

Euphemia's journey to the Schild Manse tired her considerably; the sun was not too bright that day, but she chose to walk the distance where most of the manse's visitors would need a coach or an automobile to reach the entrance gates. She did not feel sore, but her habit felt a little heavier than it should. Euphemia approached an apparatus at the left corner of the room; it was a box-like machine, with a large, diamond-shaped blue crystal covered by a grille and a set of moving vents. There was a dial at the top of the machine where the words "warm", "cool" and "cold" were seen. Euphemia turned the dial to "cool" and worked on removing her coif.

Ten hairpins were removed and set on the mattress when Euphemia loosened the veil from her head; letting loose long, flowing ebony locks that touched her waist. She felt a whiff of air pass by her scalp; its cool sensation was a cry of freedom from the oppressive headpiece that cramped her hair. Euphemia looked around, hoping to find the old comb she used for years. A scan followed by opening the nearest boxes was the only effort she exerted before resorting to using the coarse-toothed implement she had in her bag. Three long strokes and a few light passes of the wooden comb were all the young canoness needed before dropping the instrument to the bed along with the pins. She continued to strip her garments until only a thin cotton dress hugged her form. It was also the time when the machine she just turned on began taking effect; the room's temperature began to cool down. Euphemia decided to lie down on her bed; her head was at the right side of the headboard while her feet were at the lowest left. It only took her minutes before she closed her eyes to sleep, even with the sun's rays shining down on her face.

Euphemia took pleasure in the soft feel of her bed, compared to the much harder variant that she had to use at the cloister. It might have been years since she last slept in her bedroom, but the familiar feel returned to her instantly. It could have been the materials, but the rest was welcomed rather quickly; Euphemia turned to her side and reached for one of the pillows to hug.

And then the thought of looking for her father came to her mind when she woke up. She looked at the window to see the sun beginning to set.

What did she have that would help her in such a mission? There would be many trials lying in wait once Euphemia would start partaking in this task on her own. It was known to the family that somebody from the Schild clan would be assigned to look for Lord Cecil in case the Army's efforts proved to be too slow, or if progress was too far in sight. She lacked the needed competencies to be effective in such a role; the only skill that she had closest was her training with the sword, and even then her father had to tailor it for pure defense because she wouldn't dare strike anyone with a weapon unless needed. There was something else that she had that was almost as good as having a weapon; something she decided to put away for years. Perhaps she could be equipped to take care of herself should she decide to venture outside once she would put to use what was almost forgotten. At least, being alive while figuring out what to do would be less of a problem.

Her cloak of hair was set loose on her back when the young woman crouched and pulled out a metal box from under her bed. Its graying pewter body was covered with a thin dusty film that dirtied her fingers. She pressed two-button mechanisms on the left and right sides of the container; weak clicks confirmed that it was ready to be opened.

† †

"Lady Euphemia, must your pursuit to enter the clergy go as far as sealing your powers?" A wrinkled gentleman in neat silver-thread robes gazed sternly at his student.

"I am sorry Meister Carolus, but the path I choose has no use for my talents." Said Euphemia's younger self. The frilly dress she wore made her look thinner than how she really was. Her head was bowed before glancing back at the master magician with utmost sincerity.

"Youths are motivated by the greatest of absurdities, but your eyes give me no choice but to give in to your request. Certainly there is a greater reasoning behind this; I would trust you with this for now. Come see me when you are ready to learn."

"Thank you, Meister. I..."

"Rather save your thanks for someone, or something, that deserves it. The time will come when you will have to undo this. Because of this, I will also teach you the art of unsealing your talents."

† †

Inside the box were neatly-arranged crystals, four were transparent quartz rods no longer than the cleric's middle finger and seven fat cylindrical pieces that bore the rainbow's seven lights. Underneath the crystals was a small book bound by leather and iron rings faded by years of being kept in storage.

Euphemia recalled everything on how the "locks" that suppressed her magical abilities were manifested in the seven-colored crystals, and that the four rods were "keys" to reawaken them. She breathed deeply before she started scattering the box's contents to the floor.

Each crystal was arranged clockwise all around her: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Euphemia stood still, holding the four transparent rods using the spaces between her fingers.

"Meister, thank you for proving me wrong..."

She closed her eyes; everything was masked in dense silence until the canoness could only hear her heartbeat. Euphemia cleared her thoughts, summoning energy that was coursed to the four quartz sticks. One of the crystals gave off a white glow every four minutes until the four lights went beyond the rods and wrapped her hands in a ball of soft luminance. The light covered the rest of her arms and spread throughout her entire frame. The cylinders placed on the floor absorbed the radiance and glowed according to their colors and made Euphemia glow into various colors until the seven merged into one brilliant, almost blinding light. The room was drowned in its whiteness for a few moments until everything reverted to its original colors.

A searing sensation surged through Euphemia's body, causing her to step twice back to her bed. The yellow, green, and blue cylinders tinkled and rolled out of alignment. Her eyes showed a distorted, half-spinning world when she lay flat on the mattress; Euphemia's entire frame felt like it lost all its solidity. One by one her senses shut the world away.

The cleric woke up four hours after the unsealing; she felt different, but there was no way for her to explain it. Traces of magical energies seeped out her palms like heavy air from an ice cube. Euphemia regained control of her senses at once and restored her bodily order at the speed of thought. The surge of magical energy reentering her veins was like an entirely new experience; it was a sensation of both hotness and coldness coursing through her form at once. Such a feeling never crossed her mind before, as Euphemia was completely contented in silent service to the Creator. She found no reason to keep her powers at first, for having them in a world that worked well without magical feats was more of a burden than a privilege to keep.

That thought was destined to be rewritten overnight.

"Did it work?"

She stared at her hands; her mind ordering them to not move. Euphemia's palms became brighter than the rest of her frame until they were wrapped in a scintillating glove powerful enough to blind anyone else who might be inside her bedroom. The canoness laughed, recalling at how the other clerics of the order found her odd she was for being able to look straight into the sun or any brightness that averts normal eyes. Her hands returned to normal moments later, as if her skin absorbed the brilliance it emitted earlier.

Perhaps reawakening her long-suppressed talents was a touch too extreme with what Euphemia intended to do. The thought of her seemingly invulnerable father being defeated by whoever he pursued meant that they too had means beyond that of normal humans. She did not need to put herself in such a position - the Empire was putting up efforts in locating the old general. Something was pushing her to find out the answers for herself; waiting at home and hoping for Cecil's return seemed to be the worst of all her choices.

Euphemia knew that this ability she restored was not the answer to everything. She would have to relearn most of the abilities she studied and performed under Meister Carolus' guidance. It was a far cry from being able to free her father from whoever took him prisoner, if he was still alive. All she could do was to remember much of the old master's lessons and put those memories into use far beyond the reaches of her home.

Now, if Euphemia would win her mother's approval in what she intended to do.