It was early morning, the sun still at its waking hours. Aneath grunted, her eyes still half-closed from weariness. She sluggishly rolled out of bed and approached her desk. On the surface was a waning candle, its wax dripping out of the small dish. A notebook was placed next to it, resting with its spine pressed to the furnished wood. Its pages were scrawled in messy handwriting and complex runes. Aneath sighed, drowsily blowing out the candle and scooping up the notebook. With that, she trudged to the main library.
She had been repeating this routine for the past five days. Earlier, she contained so much excitement she could barely breathe. Despite her current body still adapting to her soul and thus lacking her original mana retention, she could still cast relatively high spells. This was due to one reason, a much richer air of mana surrounding her.
In Aneath's world, the 22nd century, the mana had significantly thinned, causing there to be a constant struggle for resources. Middle class spells, in comparison to the ancient times, were much more difficult to execute, and high class spells were practically unreachable by the common populace. There was a constant struggle, and the elaborate and creative aspect of spell fabrication had long since faded. There was no possibility of a highly complex spell to be executed because there simply wasn't enough mana for it.
However, in the world she was in now, it was like she was transported back to ancient times, when the air was rich. Even the most common spells seemed to be teeming with possibility, creative and invoking.
Aneath was originally a high class mage. Her magical talent and fascination in spells, especially in a world where it was much more difficult to cast high class spells, was unreachable by many. When she arrived and realized that there was so much more potential for innovation, she delved into her studies with newfound earnest. Everything had an added intrigue, and as she walked through the halls, she felt the thickness of idle mana flowing through her fingertips.
Aneath perched in her usual position, which she had already riddled with dusty tomes from around the library, and begun reading.
----
She had not moved from that very spot until noon. When the sun rose to its greatest peak, her tired eyes finally strayed from the page. Her vision blurred as she stood, her mind rushed with blood. "Jesus Christ..." Aneath muttered, rubbing her temples with a bit of astonishment. Has it already been that long? She tittered to herself as she walked down the spiral staircase towards the grand doors.
She yawned, the silk nightgown flowing lightly behind her as she sauntered around the manor. The halls were empty the moment she left the library. The servants feared her, unwilling to make even the slightest bit of contact. As a result, Aneath had grown used to relaxing, fully adapting into her new life of a recluse.
Aneath soon found herself in one of the west courtyards. That specific courtyard was well enclosed and isolated, with not many servants crossing through its side of the mansion. It made the perfect place to practice magic without interruption. The weeds, which had grown tall before, were singed and withered from her previous practices.
"Extreptus," she muttered, her hand gently caressing the thin strands of air as if she was working a loom. Thick, voluminous strands of mana were slowly siphoned from her surroundings, gathering in her palm as a red glowing light. She watched with ecstaticity as more and more mana danced towards her extended fingers in a whirlwind. If she could execute tier seven spells with such a small mana pool so easily, what would happen when her body finally adapted to the new soul and her original potential was restored? She started shivering in delight as she caressed the accumulated energy with a fanatic gaze.
She lifted her palm to her mouth, feeling small beads of mana surrounding the large orb of light. "Dimitto locus," she whispered into her palm. The idle energy suddenly turned frantic, condensing and turning a dark crimson red. The air around her seemed to turn silent as the mana erupted, sending rogue waves of azure fire in all directions.
The overgrown vegetation shriveled into black dust as soon as it was hit by the spell, its stems sagging from the heat. The ornately carved marble pillars outlining the courtyard were hit by the wave of plasma. They shook, small pebbles and dust shaking out of its cover.
The entire courtyard fell back into silence, and Aneath felt the light, excited bouncing in her heart grow louder and louder until she could barely breathe. She could barely conceal her exhilarated ear-to-ear grin as she brought her palm back to her chest. The adrenaline was still pumping through her as she exhaled. This world might not be as bad as I–
"Sister?" A voice echoed throughout the deserted courtyard, pulling Aneath out of her stupor. Her eyes shot up, scouring the walkways hidden behind the thick baroque pillars. Her eyes instantly fixed on a thin figure peeking out from one of the columns. The girl's light nightgown hung delicately on her shoulders, making her physique seem willowy. Her long, blonde hair cascaded around her face, framing a frail, gossamer face.
But what interested Aneath the most was the girl's eyes. The girl's faint jewel eyes held glimmering facets, yet it seemed to be slightly blurred in the light, as if it was impure. Her eyes flashed with understanding as she felt an interest bud. This must be my sister. Leiann, was it? She took another glance at the blond-haired girl's eyes and felt the sudden urge to laugh. Her illegitimacy caused her inherited jewel eyes to become murky. I bet she has an inferiority complex and'll be "healed" by one of the ikemen. Then they'll kiss, doki-doki, and fall in love.
The girl's eyes flitted around for a half-second a speck of unsettlement and agitation found in her faintly furrowed eyebrows, before resting back on Aneath's unperturbed expression. Her expression relaxed again before she exclaimed, "Sister, was that you? Oh goodness, I didn't know you were capable of such a big spell! You must have done something to improve? Please, do tell!" She skipped towards Aneath, her shining blonde hair dancing behind her in waves, making her seem like a fairy flying through a beautiful, lush meadow.
Aneath raised her brow. "Well, you could say I've been studying."
Leiann beamed in response, her eyes bent into thin crescents. "Really? Hm. Sister, I'm so glad you're not ignoring me anymore..." Leiann's eyes flitted up to Aneath's face before turning away bashfully. "You know, I– ah!"
Leiann stumbled forward, tripping on the ground. She extended her hands, hitting her head on Aneath's chest before slumping on the floor. "Ouch..." She rubbed her cheek, and swift tears began pouring from her dull jeweled eyes. Aneath stepped back, an instinct after living in the modern world with scammers and frauds. Classic clumsy heroine, she thought, narrowly stifling her urge to guffaw.
"Young Miss! What happened?" A maid popped out from one of the doorways, scurrying into the field with a distraught expression. She kneeled next to Leiann and caressed the girl's cheek, frowning as she brushed away the crocodile tears falling delicately. "You've been hurt..."
Leiann simply nodded in response. Meanwhile, Aneath coughed and turned away, successfully suppressing her amused smile. The maid, still holding the blonde heroine's injured face, turned towards Aneath and almost instantly quieted. "Y-Young Miss, make haste. We must leave." She suddenly said, grabbing Leiann's forearm and pushing her up.
They quickly evacuated, but their whispers were clearly heard by Aneath. "Young Miss, why are you going to her again? You know that every time you do, she..."
Leiann frowned in the midst of her crying, her crystal crocodile tears dramatically framing her face like a flowing waterfall. "No... that's not it... this time, she really didn't! I-it was me... it was... sniff."
"Young Miss... please..."
Their whispers dissipated as they left. Aneath was left standing blankly in the singed arena, not sure what had happened. Well. That's a heroine, all right.
----
Three weeks later...
Aneath's mana pool had slowly enlarged as her body adapted to the new soul. She was now able to cast tier nine spells, one tier behind her original capability in the modern world. Her eyes shone as her heart bounced every time she thought about how her mana pool still was due to expand twice as large.
Aneath had moved to a new practice spot after a certain spell almost decimated the courtyard. It was an open, grassy plain, with a large banyan tree placed soundly a bit away. In the distance, while the sun set behind them, she could see a small city's worth of tall, medieval castles interconnected through elevated bridges. That must be the Water Institute, she thought idly, quickly losing interest. She slumped onto the soft grass, her eyes gazing peacefully at the sky as it faded into a blood orange.
She sighed and closed her eyes, blocking the beautiful scenery from sight. Rumors had spread around the mansion like wildfire. It started after her sister's strange visit to the courtyard. Whispers of Aneath's sudden improvement in magic flew around the manor like a wildfire. Then, a few days later, Aneath found the gardener peeking behind one of the tall pillars during one of her courtyard practices. He had clearly witnessed Aneath executing a clean tier eight spell. After that, the whispers turned into mutterings, with more and more servants "just wandering by" the desolate courtyard. It was then that she decided to move, but at that time it was already too late. The maids, which usually shook in their boots every time they came into her room, began to show signs of curiosity, their hands sometimes slowing as they discreetly studied the room in hopes of finding the reason for her "sudden improvement". Aneath clicked her tongue as soon as she thought about how the previously deserted halls slowly filled up with curious-eyed servants.
After a few weeks, the rumors were verified by an anonymous source that the Young Lady had suddenly been able to cast a tier eight spell. It was that day that Aneath was called into the greasy father's study and saw his sudden change in attitude.
Aneath grunted as she lifted her arm up into the air lazily, pressing her forefinger and thumb together. Stifled sparks flew off the tips of the fingers. When she released her pressed two fingers, a brilliant blue flame flew out of the crack like a released balloon, slowly drifting up into the sky. She smiled, the glossy facets of her jewel eyes reflecting the bright spectacle illuminating the sky.
Well, whatever. It's not like the rumors will do anything harmful enough, right?