“Show me a family of readers, and I will show you the people who move the world.”

- Napoleon Bonaparte

Waking up Alyssa was at first confused by the unfamiliar ceiling and surroundings and suffered a short moment of vertigo before everything came back to her. Asandria was softly humming an old elvish song while moving her arms as if playing the harp. Light shone through her leaving the faintest of shadow.

'Interesting' Alyssa thought. Cyrus had his head tucked underneath his left wing and sat on the lower right bed-post. 'It is a bit dreamlike still, going from being hunted and on the road for weeks to living in the lap of luxury. But such is life I guess.' Mireille slept soundly, face turned towards her, drooling a bit with terrible bed hair. 'That's a sight to greet the new day.' Alyssa thought fondly and tucked a few hairs away from her friend's mouth so that she did not breathe them in, but woke Mireille in the process.

"Is it morning already?" Mireille sleepily mumbled.

"Yes, we have to get up or breakfast might be cold."

"Oh, woe is me."

"Desist with the theatrics," Alyssa said grinning.

Breakfast was, to the two companions at least, a sumptuous affair continuing the trend set by yesterday's dinner.

“You need not fear that the leftovers will spoil. It is common usage to let the master or mistress of a mansion eat first from an overfull table, and then distribute ‘what is left’ and probably too much to begin with, for the servant's table.” Alea took it upon herself to explain as Mireille did her best to eat as much as possible, again.

That stopped her because she did not want to take it from someone else's table.

“Sorry, I did not know.”

“It's no big deal. We can always have some more brought from the kitchen.”

The small spider made calming gestures with its forelegs standing on the shoulder of the motionless, pale girl. The sun glittered on the copper and brass casing from the side you could see gears rapidly turning inside the small construct.

“How does this apparatus work exactly? If I may be so bold as to ask.” Mireille looked fascinated. “It could help with my bond to Cyrus.”

The one spoken about was ripping into a lightly grilled whole chicken whith apparent delight.

“That is possible. I can show you some of the theories involved if you like. It's all in grandpa's workshop.” Alea looked a bit shy.

Maximilian smiled at that. “We've got some time. Lucien is still with the watch. He sent me a note explaining that the city takes this more seriously because of the arson and raiding going on at the moment. So, if we don’t want to rely on some other hired guards, which I find myself loath to do, we are stuck for the moment. But I think it's a day, two at most until this has resolved itself.”

Mireille stretched. “I am happy to live the good life a day longer, nay make that a week, a month!”

“Don't forget your exercises or Vanessa will be cross with you.”

“Urgs.” Mireille lowered her arms and looked a bit chagrined.

“Who is Vanessa?” Maximilian inquired.

“Ahem. She is a friend of ours, a sorceress of some ability. She taught Mireille and is teaching her still. She can be considered my mentor also.”

“I would certainly like to meet her then. Is she nearby?”

“We...separated a while ago. She will meet us on the road I am sure.”

“I will then accompany Alea to the workshop, Mireille you should do some of the exercises. If you don’t, you know what will happen! Later I will do my part too, don’t fear.”

“Then let us not tarry.” Alea raised the spider from its seat and carried it before her slightly moving it from side to side. Alyssa stood up and followed her.

They moved down a side corridor and then came to a collonade open towards the garden and, on the other side, windows into what seemed storage rooms and some servant's quarters.

Arriving at a metal-bound oaken door, Alea placed the automaton back on her shoulder and then removed a large key hanging from a hook on her belt. With that and a spoken incantation, she unlocked and then opened the entrance to a small building sitting behind the servant's quarters. Two chimneys grew from the shingled roof.

Dust billowed out. “I am sorry, I did not use the rooms much after grandpa's death. And the servants are forbidden entry. It is too dangerous and the machines too sensitive for untrained hands. Your request was welcome; I wanted to come here for some time but never found a good enough reason to.”

Inside the room, large workbenches and some arcane apparatus took up most of the opposite wall. Globes she had come to know from her room hung from adjustable chains fastened to the ceiling. Great vats containing oily liquids stood piled on top of each other to the far right corner, some bubbling with luminescent gases.

The ground was made of great slabs of stone that were worryingly scored with acid or marked by intense fires some marked with faded glyphs outlined in chalk. To the left stood some shelves stuffed to bursting with paper and books near some chests and beside them leaned two automatons of more human proportions.

Dull crystal lenses gazed lifelessly at the two observers. They wore clothes like a butler or servant would, underneath was leather stretched over metallic bones. The fingers were tipped with metal calipers and looked somewhat dangerous, the faces looked like theater masks made of porcelain. A great book stood on a lectern inscribed with glyphs, made of brass or some similar metal. A slight tingling in the air spoke of old residues of magical nature. Some of those slabs were big enough for a small ritual circle and most likely had served as such.

Cyrus arched his long neck and looked around curiously, then he proceeded to nip on Alyssa's ear, who shooed him off.

“This was the realm of my grandfather, Gallius Escerus von Gildburg. He was my grandparent from the maternal line. What do you think of his workshop?”

“Certainly impressive,” Alyssa said diplomatically. “But it could use a bit more...order?”

“Yes, that is most certainly the case. My grandfather, I loved him dearly, never was one for the more stately process of science. He charged ahead and damn the consequence. He would have found a kindred spirit in your Mireille perhaps? He was hailed a genius even as they threw him out of his tenure in the academy when he did one experiment with catastrophic consequences too many. He never forgave them for that. I would have gone to study there long before if he were not so dead set against it.”

“Are you not my age? I am sixteen as of two months ago.”

“I am fifteen, but it is customary for those with the ability to learn as soon as possible and to return as soon as able. It would have been somewhat early, that is true.”

Asandria was floating here and there, and she looked especially fascinated by the humanlike machines her fingers trailing over the bald heads made of metal and the white pearlescent masks.

“Here let me show you.” Alea went to the large book. After grasping the lectern with both hands, for which she had to stretch, she intoned a lengthy formula. An etheric lock made of radiant coppery energy appeared above the tome and then unfolded like a flower, rotating and disengaging before it opened with a quiet ‘click’.

“Impressive.” Alyssa admired the handiwork.

Alea meanwhile paged through diagrams and an exploded view of some sort of automaton before coming to a complicated rune array with some annotations made in a spidery crawling script. “Ah. Here it is. This here,” she mentioned towards the depiction of a body behind which stood a more transparent looking mirrored image, “is the body and soul, and this,” she elaborated…

They talked for some hours until a servant called them to lunch.

The work of the late Gallius was intricate and not altogether compatible with the elven magics Asandria had employed, but there were congruences. And it seemed she could learn to see through the eyes of Cyrus with a bit of training and the right spellwork. Alea assured her that it was all down to practice.

The peculiar girl was still mostly expressionless unless something interested her greatly. Always moving the spider, or controlling it/her directly which made her appear spaced out or disinterested looking. After their talk, she had mellowed towards Alyssa a lot and seemed genuinely glad to have someone to talk to who shared her fascination with magic and to a lesser degree magical artificing. Asandria listened attentively as well, interjecting ideas that Alyssa then reiterated.

The roots of the old kingdom's magical tradition and the elven ones were far different in application and scope, what the one managed without even trying was nearly impossible for the other. That made it a lot harder to be competent in both, sadly.

Maximilian was absent during the meal since he was called to the house of justice to talk to a city official. It seemed one of the bandits had mentioned something interesting, concerning, or both.

Mireille was training in the gardens as an aged voice called out to her. “Young lady, would you come over for a moment?”

She looked around and saw an old woman, wearing fine black clothing but without much in the way of adornments or jewelry. She was grey-haired with finely cut features without many of the usual signs of age. Piercing blue eyes still shone brightly, but fatigue and some illness had left them rimmed in red. There was an air of weary resignation around her.

“I heard that there were guests in the manor who helped my grandson. I wanted to make your acquaintance and greet you so that I can properly thank you. My name is Adelaide von Gildburg and you must be Mireille.” she smiled.

Mireille bowed a bit awkwardly and wiping the sweat from her brow replied, “thank you for your kind words, we were on the same road and being able to help, naturally we did.”

“That sounds reasonable but you know most would not. It was not your fight. And my son mentioned you did not even ask for recompense. Were you my grandchild I would be worried that someone would take advantage of you.” She smiled gently. “so the least I can do is extend what hospitality we can. I will let the staff know that if you need something, some replacements for the clothes ruined during the ambush perhaps, or other necessities that you should be accommodated as much as possible.”

“Thank you. I will take you up on that. I have to say, that your hospitality has been very generous and the food was absolutely great.” Mireille stuttered a bit, not knowing if what she said could be construed as impolite.

The old madam smiled even more genuinely this time. “You can stay as long as you want. But I fear that Maximilian and Alea will soon begin their travels towards Kronenburg and you will most probably accompany them?”

“Yes, that was the plan.”

“If I might make a request, it might do the girl some good to have some friends her age. Please take care of my grandchildren if you would. I would be in your debt.”

Flustered, Mireille replied, “Certainly, they seem like good people, I did not get to know Alea well but she seems to have hit it off with Alyssa.”

“That would make me glad. Since my husband's death, she has not left this house more than a few times. I will no longer keep you. We will see each other during lunch I think.” She coughed a bit into a handkerchief embroidered with lilies, then turned to go.

“Until then!” Mireille waved and then went back to her exercises.

Come lunchtime all were gathered in the dining room, Adelaide this time was also present and greeted and thanked Alyssa.

Alyssa replied, “I am glad that we could help. The way has been fraught with danger so far. Since I left home I was attacked by a wyvern, witnessed a raid by the northern forces, and last helped fight off the bandits. My natural reactions to that have changed a bit over time. But I also realized that I have so much to left to learn.”

“Then thank Gesserach and old Varnis that you are here hale and sound.” Adelaide looked somewhat disconcerted at the description of her travels.

They ate and talked. Adelaide was curious even if she was tiring quickly and asked them about their homes and their lives more than their adventures.

“So you are sisters by choice?”

“Yes, that is so madam,” Alyssa answered together with Mireille who simply nodded.

Maximilian looked enlightened also. “I was wondering about that.”

Asandria looked from one to the other only Alyssa saw a small smile appearing at the exchange.

Alea's mechanical companion nodded too, “So that is how it was. You did not seem to be very much alike.” The two Graufurt siblings had many similarities, from the nose to the shape of their eyebrows, the only major difference was her dark to his blond hair.

Adelaide excused herself directly after eating, she looked pale with drops of sweat beading on her forehead. “I talked to Gerald. He will contact a seamstress so that you might at least get new clothes to replace the ones damaged during the fight.” She coughed. “It would please me if you would accept this small gesture. I will go rest a bit. If something comes up feel free to ask Gerald the head-servant.”

‘She suffers from soul loss. This is no ordinary illness. She was once strong, stronger than most, but her soul is now a hollow broken thing.’ Asandria mused while looking after the departing woman.

Alyssa could not keep herself from looking surprised and concerned.

“Is something the matter?” Alea who had been regarding the wyvern noticed her concern.

“No, I think...no it's nothing.”

“Will you accompany me to the workshop after the fitting? The seamstress is usually quite punctual.”

“I would like that.” Alyssa smiled more naturally now.

Mireille eyed her suspiciously and mouthed when both siblings were distracted by some of Cyrus' antics ‘Asandria?’ Alyssa nodded.

After lunch, they were called to a well-lit and mostly empty room with great mirrors installed in the walls and a polished stone floor, on the ceiling was a painting of a hunting party cornering an elk-like beast with the hind legs of a lion. Alea, who was accompanying the two, told them, “This was once a room to practice dancing or dueling in, the mirrors help immensely, but it is useful to see how clothes fit too.”

The seamstress a woman in her late forties thin as her needles with a sharp nose and grey-brown hair greeted them in a businesslike manner. She seemed quite competent and assured them that they would have two sets of clothes each, one for leisure and one for traveling.

“Are you perchance able to enchant the clothes?” Mireille asked curiously. “My grandmother also was a seamstress and had some ability in that direction.”

“Is that so? Could I have her name? The field of the gifted is not as large as one might think, I could well know her.”

“She was named Lucille Emerald.”

“That is indeed a name known to me. I was saddened to hear of the problems she had with the guild. Such nonsense would never have happened in Margrinar. I wrote her that she should consider coming over, but she pleaded age and ill-health, what could I say against that? Is she still with us?”

“No, she died five years ago.”

“My condolences, we all lost a creative and able artisan with her passing.” She looked truly sad at the news even if she did not let it get in the way of her work.

Afterward, Mireille went outside to practice, vaulting over the hedges of the maze while utilizing her sigil.

Alyssa and Alea went back to the workshop. Inside they tried to reactivate one of the humanlike constructs who once were entrusted the care of the room, but nothing they did worked.

“Let us look at the book once more, there has to be an insight as to why it will not work.” Alea groused.

“It could be something basic, like missing a power source perhaps?” asked Alyssa.

“That is impossible. They were made using a mana-crystal from Caveriums mines, they should last at least a century.

Asandria turned and said softly ‘I cannot sense any strong magical emanations from the constructs, it's highly unlikely that they have enough magical energy left to move.’

“Ahem.” Alyssa cleared her throat, “do we have the ability to ascertain if the stones are still intact?”

“Yes, there should be appraiser goggles somewhere around here. It would be a good idea regardless to look a bit deeper into the mana flow. But where is it?” Alea began to search, which mostly consisted of her holding the little spider construct into chests and the odd cupboard.

They found the battered item underneath one of the glass vats luckily still in one piece.

“What in the name of Saressa happened to it!? Could you do me the favor of cleaning it?” Alea gave the scratched and bent goggles over to Alyssa, who looked at the artifact doubtfully.

Saressa was the goddess of the forge, flames, inspiration, and renewal. She was the one prayed to for inspiration by craftsmen and artists alike, she had many names: Saressa the ever-burning one, the phoenix who renews herself, holder of the secrets of metal, the origin of all fire.

“I will do my best.” Cleansing the contraption with some applied household magics she bent it back in shape with tongs made of a light-grey metal. “Here you are. Hopefully, it still works.”

Alea scrunched her nose. “It's not made with spiders in mind, could you…?”

“Oh! Sorry, I forgot!”

Alea giggled a bit at that. “I would think it a compliment, don’t blame yourself.”

Lifting the goggles to her nose she injected a bit of magic, the world shimmered and streamers of different colored lights, sparks, glowing particles floated everywhere.

“There is so much going on, I don’t see a thing!”

“You can adjust it with the...missing gear. It should be at the right lens...but it isn't.”

Alysssa looked at the automatons and realized what Asandria had said, they were both magically inert with slight residues showing their use some years past.

“There is nothing left. They are magically empty.”

“Mh. Perhaps grandfather took them. We will have to buy new ones. But that takes too long. Let's simply use the broom ourselves.”

“You mean, I will use the broom,” Alyssa said mock-reproachfully.

“Ahem. That might be correct, please pardon me. I would be thankful.” The smaller girl smiled a bit while the spider bowed towards Alyssa.

They spent the afternoon tidying up, and later, after a thorough bath, met with the others in the dining room. Adelaide was absent again.

“My grandmother excuses herself, she does not cope well with stress anymore, and that means mostly my broken arm.” Maximilian forced a grin, masking his concern. “But she has grown weaker since last I saw her.” The last was not exactly a question but Alea answered.

“Grandmother is stubborn and refused the physician more times than I can count. It would probably require more than mundane or even potion-assisted healing to help her.”

“What is wrong with her?” Mireille asked tactlessly.

Alea took that in stride and answered “After my grandfather's sudden death of heart failure, she never recovered." she looked as though she wanted to continue, then thought better of it, and simply said: "Let us talk of other things.”

The meal was excellent but the atmosphere remained subdued.

Later in Alyssa's room.

“What are you doing here again?” Alyssa inquired of Mireille who was lying down in her bed.

“It's comfortable and I got used to sleeping together. I get cold quickly and if I fall ill who is going to save you?”

“Good grief.” Alyssa smiled. “You can stay if you want. The room and the bed are big enough. But wasn't there something on your mind?”

“Yes, what was that expression for at lunch? The one most likely caused by Asandria?”

Asandria hovered on the other side of Mireille and looked on, expressionless.

“She mentioned that Adelaide has a damaged soul. Something or someone injured her gravely. Not in a physical sense, which means that the physician is not going to do her much good.”

“Oh. She is such a nice old lady, reminds me a bit of my grandmother and that is high praise, mind!”

“I know. Sadly I can't think of what could be done for her. There might be some alchemy for this but I was and am at the level of an apprentice to a small-town alchemist. That does not cut it.”

Asandria whispered ‘There are some means of helping her, but it would take materials you probably have no access to. Immortal ice rose, the blood of a phoenix, the eye of an eternal serpent. No, not likely. There is the possibility of blood or even sacrificial magic, but I would not recommend that. You could try healing her with song-magic. It is not impossible, but it would take a very long time which she and you probably don’t have. Might be that there is an artifact that speeds the healing of such wounds…’ Her voice grew softer and soon was no longer intelligible.

“Asandria spoke just now of means and possibilities. But they were unrealistic in the extreme.”

Vanessa sat in the same chair as last evening and smiled at Mireille's shock. “Oh get used to it. You are not the one who has to deal with people sleeping while you are awake. And even if it were the other way around I could not show this face to the public.” She gestured at her cold, inhuman features with the lambent glowing eyes.

“Ah! You scare the life out of me.” Mireille complained.

“Yes, I can say I was frightened too!” Alyssa concurred.

Simply brushing over the protests Vanessa continued to talk. “I have heard what you said and it is a fascinating problem. I could try to shore up her soul a bit, but that would mean revealing myself, and that is not something done lightly. It would make some things a lot easier.” she tapped her fingers on her lips, thinking. “I leave it to you. I think Adelaide has some time left, and I can travel very fast. But if you tarry too long it will be too late.”

They talked until late in the evening. Vanessa showed Alyssa some more exercises for her necromancy and corrected a spelling error in her firebolt spell.

Soon they were so tired, that they had trouble keeping their eyes open.

And they went to sleep.