In the mansion of the Institution of Water...
Aldric's long fingers glided over the rail of the clear marble staircase as he descended, his jeweled aqua eyes distant yet shining with the promise of youth. His long, silky white hair was tied into a low ponytail, flowing gently behind him in waves. A lull of apathy was seen on his frigid expression. The air around him seemed to freeze as he ambled through the main hallways of the Water Manor. Droves of maids seemed to "accidentally" show up wherever he went, standing on the sides of the corridors with passionate giggles.
Aldric's steps paused when he reached the far end of the corridor. The two doors loomed in front of him, their opaque yet flowing aqua blue designs grand. His eyes drooped inexplicably as he looked down at his hands, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. A wisp of lightning blue mana escaped from his outstretched palm before he let out a collected sigh and turned his gaze back up.
Aldric held his fist up in front of the door before knocking twice, the sound resounding through the hallway. Four seconds of deafening silence ensued, with the quiet clacks of a maid's heels in the adjoining hallway cutting the silence. Then, a tendril of coral blue mana snaked out from the cracks of the door, grasping the handle and pulling the doors open.
A middle-aged woman sat on the working desk, her fine wrinkles creasing as she smiled warmly at Aldric standing unobtrusively in the doorway. She retracted her extended hand, and with that, the magic retreated back into her body, quickly disappearing from sight. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come in," she said.
Aldric had taken after the old woman's jeweled aqua eyes, however, unlike his, hers seemed to gleam with a warm yet shrewd light. His deadpan eyes swept the room before he took a few blithe steps forward. "Mother, why did you summon me?" His hands, gently held behind his back, tightened as he spoke.
The woman twirled the thick fountain pen around her fingers, her eyes following the hypnotic movements of the tip of the pen. Her smirk grew, ever-so-slightly, when she heard his somewhat stiff words. She stretched her left forefinger forward and a thin thread of blue mana escaped, wrapping itself around a small envelope and gliding to Aldric. He brushed open the thick wax seal, slowly unfurling the letter inside and examining its contents.
"The girl of the Institution of Fire," the woman said, her heel starting to tap impatiently on the cold floor, "Apparently, that inept, helpless girl had suddenly turned into a prodigy in just three weeks. We verified it with our little birdwatcher, too."
Aldric's face grew stiff. He worked his jaw as he read further down, his eyes freezing on one phrase. His head snapped up as he looked at his mother for confirmation. "She cast a tier eight spell?"
The Lady scoffed, the wrinkles on her face became more pronounced as she furrowed her thin, sharp eyebrows. "It's not 'she cast'. She can readily cast tier eight spells. She does it for practice, I heard. Some rumors say it's higher, though. Tier ten." She bit the end of the last sentence, her scowl tinged with bitter animosity.
"How is that possible..." Aldric trailed off.
"Good question," the old woman smiled, a charming and elegant smile, perhaps fitting her next words. "Which is why we've sent an invite to the Fire Manor."
"You'll be hosting her for a gathering," she stared at Aldric right in the eye. "During that time, you will find out how that can be possible."
She stood, her chair rolling back and hitting the floor-to-ceiling window panes behind her. Her gaze turned especially sharp, in contrast to her next words. "Befriend the girl," she said.
Adric made an almost indiscernible frown. He recalled the red-haired girl's appearance. Crystal clear jeweled eyes, showing the purity of her blood. Her fiery red hair flowed in cascading locks down her back, curving elegantly around her waist. The slightly upturned lips that reminded him of the shrewd Cheshire cat as she greeted him for the first time. Aneath, was her name. His scowl deepened. Yes, that's right, that girl.
He distinctly remembered when she stood from her curtsy. Her father was next to her, standing from his stiff bow. The thick, overly-fashioned dress weighed her waist down as she lifted her head. Almost instantaneously, her eyes fixed to his face like a predator stalking its prey. Then, in the very next moment, she screamed "will you marry me?"
Aldric felt a prick of disgust at that memory, even after it being so long. The young girl who thought the world was hers. Water's main family made a visit to the Fire Manor to maintain what tense diplomatic relations remained between the two houses. The visit was clearly formal and was a poorly concealed display of rivalry. Yet, this ignorant young girl, aged five or six perhaps, completely and utterly disrespected them in just one sentence.
His disdain remained as an aftertaste, only intensifying when he muttered, "yes, Mother." Aldric breathed a deep breath before bowing respectfully, disguising his unwilling annoyance knowing it would only make his mother pleased.
----
One week later...
Aneath snapped her forefinger and thumb together, playing with the mana twirling gracefully around her fingers as she stood outside her father's study. The two unnecessary doormen standing outside the study gazed at her with clear interest. The buzz of her magic's advancement had still not faded, and thus the servants had not stopped with their prying eyes.
The doormen snapped to attention, their eyes suddenly darting back and forth before they hastily swung the tall doors open. Unaware, Aneath entered her father's study.
The study was vast and striking, with some sort of jagged gray tile layered on the floor and yawning matt black walls enveloping the room with a hazy feel. The room was surrounded by polished red oak bookshelves, stocked to the brim with hardbacks ranging from tomes to small publications. In the center of the room was a long work desk with beautiful furnishing, which was perfectly highlighted by the afternoon light filtered through the stained glass windows. The sweaty, balding man was sitting in the very center of the room, tainting the picturesque sight into a slightly putrid inconvenience.
"Father," she said, giving only a faint smile and nod without bothering to even make a simple curtsy. Veins quickly popped up on the oily man's shiny forehead, but he could only stomach the indignance and grin pleasantly in response.
If only Leiann was the one to suddenly improve instead, I could have directly cast that wench out as the legitimate heir and replaced her... he thought, but instead, I have to smile and deal with her blatant disrespect towards me, the master of the house! Absurd!
"My dear Aneath!" He exclaimed. "Come, sit–"
"Do you need me for something?" She said with a tinge of shortness. The thick stench of a greasy man permeated her senses the longer she stayed, and she didn't particularly enjoy it. It was strange. She believed herself to be quite tolerating or perhaps just indifferent, even when facing somewhat inconvenient people. However, maybe the original host's emotions were fusing with her own, because she began to feel slight impatience when she faced him.
"...ah, of course, you must be busy," he said with a forced, toothy smile. "You'll be meeting the heir of the Institution of Water tomorrow."
Aneath blinked before a brilliant beam spread from ear to ear. So my theory turned out to be true! The four institutions do exist here!
The four institutions of magic was a great aspect of the history of Aneath's previous world. Each represented one of the four elements. The main families were the families controlling the institutions. All members of the main families had distinct jewel eyes, with the purity of the jewel representing the purity of the person's mana and magic aptitude. Usually, all heirs of the four institutes had great aptitude and were expected to reach high magic class by the time they were inaugurated. While each main family controlled their respective element, their influence did not wholly reach into the political aspects of the human kingdoms. They were still under the "rule" of the royal family.
Aneath's reaction was not according to her father's plan. His hands balled into fists under the lavish desk. Didn't this fucking girl like that young master of water? Why is she so relaxed?! She should be stressed and infuriated, rushing to get ready! Is she not mad that I gave her no time to prepare?! He seethed.
After a moment of silent deliberation, Aneath grabbed the hem of her dress and did a slight curtsy, just little enough to be disrespectfully offhanded. "Well, I'll get going then. Thank you, Father."
Her heels clacked brightly on the smooth red veined floors, a lighthearted, cheerful expression lining her face. The Young Master of Water... she mused, the thin light streaming through the hall's windows casting an ethereal glow on her untraveled skin.
"He sounds like a capture target, doesn't he?" She murmured under her breath. Does that mean I have to avoid him? A trace of unwillingness flashed by her heart as she thought so. But... isn't this my only chance to meet historical figures? She bit her lip and made a conflicted expression, her eyes shining with curiosity and slight reluctance. Not only that, but I bet he has magic unparalleled compared to other water mages I knew back then!
She imagined the beautiful displays and incantations, libraries filled with ancient water runes which would be revolutionary in her modern time, and an heir to an institution brimming with magical talent. If she spoke with him, she would be speaking with a capture target and would cause unforeseeable changes in the plotline. But if she didn't, would she ever get to see such a brilliant water elemental again?
Damn it all, is it so bad to meet him just once...?