Sunday, February 8th, N.E. 807, 6:12

Citadel of the Pines, Pine Domain, Fredirin Kingdom.

Olivia Pine Fredirin.

I woke up in a bed that wasn’t my own. In a room that wasn’t my own, in a building that wasn’t my own, and in a world that wasn’t my own.

Or did I?

I reach towards my neck to feel for the amulet that I had always worn, but the small hand, the hand of a human girl, a child, found nothing.

This bed wasn’t my own, but it was, this room wasn’t my own, but it was, the building wasn’t my own, but it was, and this world, this fucking world, wasn’t my own, but it was.

“Fuck,” I said as I sat up in the bed that was apparently mine.

This room, well, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t to my taste for sure, but it wasn’t bad, the quality was decent enough, fitting for the daughter of a duke and duchess, but it wasn’t what I was used to. It was a good thing that I preferred a more utilitarian approach to things, because if I had reveled in the full luxury that was available to me, I doubt anything on this worthless little rock would compare.

White curtains over large windows in stone walls, the bed was made of a dark wood, but the sheets and the curtains surrounding it were also a pure white, the floor was stone, but it was covered by big thick rugs. There were shelves with books and other odds and ends, wardrobes filled with my clothes, and also a desk. The room was far too big for simply a room to sleep in, but since it was also my primary living quarters, it could even be said to be a bit on the small side.

I knew that the room was decorated not by myself, or my prior self, but by the estate’s staff. The only thing that showed any of my personality, were the stuffed animals located in various spots, on the shelves, the desk, the floor, and the bed. Unlike the fine quality of the room itself, and the almost sterile feel it gave, the stuffed animals were worn and tattered, clearly showing how much they were used by the previous me.

Or perhaps not exactly.

My eyesight settled on one of the stuffed animals on the shelves, it was a fat sheep. The much younger version of myself had loved a story about a sheep that had blue wool and had no friends due to that blue fur, so I had begged my parents to get me a blue sheep stuffed animal.

Within a week, a high-quality sheep with fuzzy blue fur was in my hands, and I named him Gimmy, mostly because I couldn’t pronounce his real name from the story, Jimmy.

For two years, Gimmy, followed me as my loyal friend, until at an outing in the royal capital, one of my cousins used my stuffed animal to practice a magical spell, coating Gimmy with a small amount of acid. Most of Gimmy’s fuzzy blue hair had been burnt off, and what was left had been bleached white.

Gimmy, damaged as he was, was still precious to the previous me, and his new home was that shelf. The previous me had sat and talked to the stupid blue sheep, but had never dared touch it for fear that it would fall apart.

“Ridiculous,” I said to myself.

It was a stupid, old, toy. It belonged to a child, it was trash.

And yet, a boiling rage coursed through my very being.

The acrid smell of my blood burning away brought me to my senses, and then I realized that not only had I clenched my hands tight enough to dig my nails into my palms, but I had done so with enough force to tear the thick blankets of my bed.

The previous version of me, was in fact, me. It was a fake personality, designed to operate the body I had been born with, until my true personality, along with my soul, recovered. It also served to nurture this body, so that it could withstand the power of my real soul.

When I awoke last night, the old version wasn’t just erased, it was absorbed into me. Every memory, every thought, every emotion, was now mine.

I might find it absurd, but Gimmy was my old friend, a loved comrade, and while the old me, only felt sadness at her inability to protect her friend, or avenge him, all I felt was pure hatred.

To be fair, hatred, rage, fury, these emotions came easily to me. I had been enraged in the past by less, but I had to be honest with myself. I wasn’t only feeling rage due to a slight against me, or at my helplessness. I had genuine feelings for this stupid sheep.

I got up and walked over to Gimmy, his little glass bead eyes didn’t actually look at me, or at anything at all, they weren’t functioning eyes after all. Slowly, carefully, I placed my hand upon the stuffed animal's head and gently rubbed what remained of his fur.

It wasn’t soft, not like in my memories. What little remained, was still burnt.

Magic that could repair Gimmy existed, but to restore something that was damaged so heavily, and with magic no less, would require very powerful magic, and even as a daughter of Duchess Isabella, as a grandchild of the current King, I couldn’t ask for that, especially for a stupid reason such as repairing a stuffed sheep.

But that was the old me, the new me, wasn’t completely without options. I did possess a soul capable of wielding incredibly powerful magic, my body would likely be destroyed if I went all out, but I still hold that magic. But, repairing and restoration, were types of magic that were the direct opposite of what I focused on.

Let alone restoring a magically damaged stuffed animal, I couldn’t even repair the tears in my blankets or the cut in my nightgown sleeve from when I punched a mirror last night.

“Well, it isn’t like I can’t do anything, right old friend?” I asked the sheep as I cycled mana through my body.

Mana could do many things, and already my body had been reforged from my awakening, but I would need a bit more strength for this.

With the mana strengthening the muscles within my face and hardening my teeth, I brought my hand from the sheep's head to my mouth, and after placing my index finger into my mouth, I bit down onto the knuckle.

There was a wet ripping sound as my teeth cut and tore through the skin, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. Crinsom blood, already beginning to burn away, dripped from my mouth as I severed the digit entirely. I spit the finger out into my left hand, and then brought my right one, gushing blood, back to the blue sheep's head.

My blood, a viscous, tar-like substance, oozed from the wound much slower than it would normally, and it soaked into the stuffed animal. The soggy Gimmy writhed as my blood coursed through its stuffing.

I was in effect, binding the stuffed animal to me as a bound magical item. I could bestow an actual magical effect if I wanted too, but I knew no spells that would be appropriate for a stuffed animal to be capable of manifesting. Gimmy would be a magic item, but besides being bound to me, it would show no effects.

However, merely being bound to me by my blood would make Gimmy nearly indestructible as long as my mana wasn’t cut off.

As the new and improved Gimmy continued to writhe, I held my severed finger to the stump, and as the deep red blood continued to burn away, eventually the bone reconnected, and then the underlying tissues, and finally the skin. It took less than five seconds, but all traces that I had been injured were already gone.

“Not bad,” I said satisfied.

Gimmy was now somewhere between a high-grade magical item, and an artifact. He was surely the most powerful stuffed sheep in the world. Or probably, any world.

“Let's go get breakfast,” I said as I picked up the sheep and carried him in my arms.

Sunday, February 8th, N.E. 807, 6:29

Citadel of the Pines, Pine Domain, Fredirin Kingdom.

Olivia Pine Fredirin.

The Pine Family has many customs that are strange for nobility, and one of them is to have family meals. Whenever possible, the family will try to at least have one meal together a day. But, since the family is undoubtedly busy, and since they have four separate estates, meals with the entire family are rather rare.

As I passed through the halls of the estate, I encountered no one. Of the family’s four estates, this one, referred to as the Citadel of the Pines, was the least used. The Pine Domain was dominated by a mountain range that provided both ores from the mines, and lumber from the pine forests that covered it. To the south was the royal capital, where I was going to school until two days ago, one of my elder brothers and my elder sister both resided there in our mansion. To the north-east was Arnbache city, the seat of power for the Pine Family, and to the North-west was Port Good Seas, the location of the Pine Family's navy and international trade network.

When I had been injured under mysterious circumstances, my elder siblings, along with the steward and guard captain from the mansion, decided to send me out of the city to recover, and to keep me safe from anything and anyone looking to finish me off. Ideally, the estate at Arnbache City would have been best, but while a rushed carriage could reach the Citadel in twelve hours, it would take nearly three times as long to get to the city. Not to mention, a carriage couldn’t rush for a day and a half without stopping.

As for Port Good Seas, while it was seemingly a bit closer than Arnbache City, that was only the case if one crossed the mountains, a difficult task for a group of adventurers, in summer. For a carriage, in winter, it was simply impossible. And if crossing the mountain wasn’t an option, all that was left, was going around it, and the only way to do that, was to go through Arnbache City.

With the above reasons, I was sent to the Citadel of Pines, and old fort halfway up one of the mountains.

Two of my siblings were at the royal capital, my younger brother was with my mother in Arnbache City, and my eldest brother was with my father at the Port of Good Seas, so I was the only one here. With this citadel being a relic of the past, and also being in an inconvenient location, it was almost abandoned. There were guards and servants for sure, since it wasn’t completely unused, but it had far fewer people than a building of its size would normally have.

While I was planning on going to get breakfast, there was a side stop I needed to make on the way. And that stop was now in front of me, behind an ornate wooden door.

With my hands filled with the stuffed animal, there was only one way to knock, by kicking the door.

As the thuds resounded, I heard some movement beyond the door and then the door opened.

The one who opened the door was Patricia Clarace, the head maid of the citadel, and the granddaughter of Ronald Clarace, a former general, and now the steward of the Citadel of Pines, the very man who was sitting at the desk in front of me.

“My lady, you’ve awoken?” Patricia uttered surprised.

“Patricia, tea please.” The old man said, bringing the head maid back to the world. “My Lady, please take a seat.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you this early,” I said as I took a seat across from the old general’s desk.

Gimmy was placed down next to me, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the people in the room, although neither brought it up.

“Nonsense my lady, I’m a humble servant of the Pine Family.” He said with a smile. “Still, I thought you would be resting still, you were rather ill when you arrived.”

Before I could respond, Patricia had placed an ornate saucer with a matching cup down in front of me. Steam was billowing from the top of the tan liquid.

I nodded to her and then softly blew across the cup. From the scent, it was Alfasp tea, a delicacy that I had previously enjoyed. But, when I tasted it, I found it too sweet.

I put the cup back down and spotted Patricia standing by the door, unsure if she should stay or leave.

“Patricia, please sit down,” I said.

“No thank you, my lady, I am fine standing.”

“Sit.”

“Er, yes my lady.”

I hate this civility and polite shit. Everything would be so much easier if people just said what they meant. No beating around the bush, no sly words, and hidden meanings, just direct words.

“I wish to return to the capital, today,” I stated after I watched Patricia sit down off to the side.

“Hmm, My lady, I don’t think that is possible. Leaving the Citadel is easier than entering it, but it's still a ten-hour trip. The procession would need to set out within the hour to avoid arriving after the gates close for the night.”

“Then we will leave within the hour,” I said simply.

“My lady…” Ronald Clarace made a face as he chose his words. “You have just recovered, it isn’t wise to set out on such a harsh journey so soon. It is best to rest for a few more days and then-”

“I unsealed my Mana core last night,” I said, interrupting what the elderly steward was saying.

“You, you did?” he said shocked.

I heard Patricia gasp, but I focused on the man across from me. His eyes quickly glanced over my torn sleeve, my different colored eyes and hair, and my sharper, but healthy, features.

I ignored him for a moment and took another sip of my tea. Steam still wafted off of it, and I still didn’t like the flavor. Then, after removing it from my lips, I slowly turned the teacup to its side, but the expected trickle of tea never happened.

Instead, with a clunk, a chunk of ice fell from the cup and clattered onto the desk.

“I-Ice attribute?!” he stuttered out, even Patricia had stood up in surprise.

While the granddaughter and grandfather combo looked upon the chunk of ice shocked, neither of them noticed as the last wisps of blood on my lip burnt away into smoke and the cut healed.

Then, before they could say anything else, I pointed with my finger, and the ice lifted off of the desk, and then hovered over the cup.

“Wind too?” Patricia asked. “No, wait, fire?”

As they watched, the ice reverted to its liquid form and slowly fell back into the cup that I was still holding. Steam was billowing from the top as if nothing had happened while I took another sip, my blood I had superstitiously placed into the tea was drawn back into my body.

I smiled as I placed the cup back upon the saucer.

“The journey will be no problem.”

“Yes… I will see that a carriage is ready within the hour.” Ronald said as he looked over me with a discerning gaze.

“A horse is fine, time is of the essence.” I ignored his gaze as I rejected his proposal.

“A horse is it?” He said more to himself.

“What do you mean by time being of the essence?” asked the head maid.

“Someone dumped me into a river, the favor needs to be returned as soon as possible,” I replied offhandedly

“...”

“...”

“Honor demands it,” I added.

“That…” Patricia started.

“You are right my lady, to not respond would sully the honor of the Pine Family,” Ronald responded, a glint of pride in his eyes.

Normally, I’d say that the only honor that mattered was my own, but looking at Gimmy from the corner of my eye, maybe the Pine Family’s honor did matter.

A bit.

“Oh, that’s right. “ I began. “My escorts should stay with my carriage for a while. At least until the start of next week. So I’ll need you to lend me some replacements.”

“... Yes, I will see to it. Some of my finest knights will accompany you.”

“No, not knights. I need some Spectres.” I said, a smile appearing on my face.

“... Understood…”

Sunday, February 8th, N.E. 807, 7:34

Citadel of the Pines, Pine Domain, Fredirin Kingdom.

Olivia Pine Fredirin.

Just under an hour later, after having breakfast, the main gate of the Citadel of Pine opened. Twelve riders, dressed in brown and tan cloaks raced out, the gate slowly shutting behind them. One of the twelve was curiously smaller than the others.