The steam rose upward from the cup hotly, showing off just how badly it would burn the one to sip it, but the lord didn't seem to care or register it. Neither did the others, after they were also served their own tea on a platter that hung precariously over the floor. There wasn't enough room on the already wide desk. It was a tempting idea to propose they move some stuff around, but it looked important. Besides, the input of a maid - however much she wanted to clean it up due to the nature of her job - was unnecessary.
No comments on the tea, if it was good or bad. No comments on the meal, after the lord picked up the cover and stared at it, then placed it back down as if he'd lost interest. No comments on anything, as Magaris waited for them to call upon her for anything else.
"Thank you for the tea, Magaris. It was a long journey, so I think it would be best if I left first, Sire. Please call upon me later."
Terrence was the first out. His cup clattered, empty, back onto the platter, as he passed by.
"Is there anything you need, Master Earl?"
If not, then Magaris was planning to leave as well. Frederick's eyes were on her and she was very uncomfortable. But then again, when was she ever not in his presence?
"Please draw a bath. You may leave."
She bowed, collecting the tea platter and replacing it with the food one. His eyes followed it, but he otherwise made no acknowledgement that it was there.
"Then I as well, Sire."
Frustration boiled in the maid, but it wasn't something to express. Her duties were fulfilled while marching out, opening the door after Terrence had closed it. His footsteps were always so light that he'd been gone in a flash, as always. The knight was nowhere to be found down either side of the long corridor.
She strode with her own long steps, trying to put some distance. The servants' staircase was right up ahead.
"Magaris."
"What, Sir Frederick?"
"..."
She didn't wait for him. If he stopped, then all the better for her. Less stress from a conversation that went nowhere.
"You're not going to say anything about it?"
"[Weightless Travel]."
He was right behind her, going down the stairs. The narrow door clicked shut behind him, and he turned to face one way in order to go down. He was too muscled, broad, and noticeable to fit properly through an entranceway meant for the unnoticed. His hand trailed along the ceiling, bringing a light dust off the top of it. Frederick swayed backwards to avoid a sudden sconce that appeared in the stairway spiraling quickly towards the bottom floor.
"There's nothing for me to say about anything. I'm just a maid."
"Your job is to serve."
"I don't need a knight to remind me of what I am to do and not to do."
"Keeping the master of the household healthy is in your job as well."
"You were away for two, almost three months. He got worse while he was with you. He brought no maids with him. How am I supposed to do anything about it?"
"Please, Magaris. Stick closer to him now that he's here."
"Again," she stopped, reaching over the trolley for the doorknob. It pushed open to reveal another empty hallway. "I'm just a maid. I serve, I clean, and I stay out of the way. What am I supposed to do about it?"
She left him behind again. Frederick seemed to always pause to collect his thoughts before moving on to pester her again with his low, slow voice.
"You and Thérèse were the closest to the lord and lady. If there's anyone that could snap him out of it, in this whole manor, it has to be you."
"I'd rather not overstep my boundaries and get fired. In case you didn't remember, I live here, not in a village. If I get fired from here, I have nowhere else to go."
"I would take care of you."
The nerve...
"I don't need anything from you. I quite wish you would stop following me around."
"I can't do that."
She wasn't just talking about him following her that moment, but following her around in general. In the morning, when the servants ate breakfast; in the afternoon, when they ate lunch; in the night, when they ate dinner. She'd always see him somewhere that a knight shouldn't have been, seeing how he was the son of a noble trying to intermingle with the sons and daughters of peasants.
And every time she saw him, his eyes were on her. Across a room, across a field, across a hall.
"Then leave me alone now. I have to draw a bath for the lord."
"I can use magic. It's not "
"I'm going to the well."
"Then I can heat up the water."
"I don't need you. Don't you have better things to be doing?"
She pushed the trolley inside the kitchen doors, leaving it there to be collected. Someone on duty would wash it.
"No."
She stopped in place. Her brows were fighting with each other again.
Magaris looked up at Frederick. He was said to be the son of a giant, for his height and his strength. Although he was almost plain human, since he was a descendant with the blood of that extinct race. Watching him keep up with the only Elf that was present in Bytriste for thousands of pouriks around, everyone believed it. They were a supernatural duo, and because of his close partnership and friendship with Terrence, he was regarded as a giant's descendant and not human all the more.
"Then go find something else. I will not be anything other than a faithful maid to the lord, because that's all he needs of me. My comments on his appearance and conduct have no place anywhere else than my own head. So no, I will not be attempting anything that you wish of me. Go waste your breath somewhere else."
And she marched. It'd been a while since she'd last spat her words out as such, and it didn't feel good to do, certainly putting red in her cheeks building from anger. Clenching her fists as she walked didn't do anything other than put more heat in her head, so she didn't feel the cold while walking outside into the chilly backside of the manor to fetch some water from the well.
"[Bath Size]."
Another of the littlest lady's charities resided there. Pulling up a glob of water large enough to fill a tub knowingly on the top floor, the maid began to march with it swarming behind her. The well had melted enough for her to take some out, after using "[Winter Heat]."
It had been a silly thing at first, walking with the monstrous lump trailing after a seemingly unaware person, and the village children would sneak over to play with it during the night. The commands set to it were then only for the servants of the house to know, and the children no longer came.
"Magaris!"
"What now?" It was a berating comment not-so-suddenly distressed over her own existence. "Yes?"
The older servant seemed quite uneasy. She didn't understand why suddenly everyone, young and old, higher and lower in authority in that household, was coming to her. She'd only worked in that manor for eight years and was nowhere anything more than just a common servant that did her job and kept to herself. She got promoted, "promoted" again, and was a hotspot of attention when she least wanted it. Everyone was sulking or keeping their happy moods to a minimum. There wasn't much to be joyful about when winter was coming and the harvest had mostly been sold to the capital after a dry season had hit the northern territories, leaving them with only barely enough to make it through the longest season of the year. Wasn't she allowed to sulk as well, in her own little world?
Yet they were all coming to her. So no, it didn't seem like she was allowed to.
"A visitor is requesting to see you."
"What?"
Me? I don't know anyone that would visit me...
"At the front gate. A man, he says he knows you and would like to talk."
The situation warranted another frown, although not one too deep to make it seem like she was mad at the servant. He was older than her, after all. It would be rude.
"Why didn't you let him in?"
"Well...he seems suspicious."
So why wouldn't you just turn him away?
"And now you want me to meet him?"
"He won't leave until he does."
"And he won't talk to anyone else?"
"He'll only speak to you."
The irritation was coming back.
"And the guards aren't willing to turn away a suspicious stranger?"
The servant looked uncomfortable. He glanced over his shoulder, towards the front of the manor.
"He seems...strong."
Irritation turned to her discomfort and encroaching nervousness. A strong, suspicious stranger that knew her and would only talk to her.
Why do I have the feeling that this won't end well?
It wasn't like she had any choice after hearing all of that.
So, with growing butterflies in her stomach, she sighed and answered the servant back. "Take this to the lord's bath and heat it up for him. He should be having a meal in his office now. Don't disturb him."
"Thank you, Magaris."
"It's fine."
Occurrences that no other noble house had to deal with were seemingly commonplace at the estate of the de Libellules. Or at least, they happened enough that they were able to somewhat flex around the situation although they couldn't exactly "deal with" it. Most of the time, the one that caused the trouble was there to fix it easily.
The servant almost ran into the house, he was so grateful to have been given another task. Perhaps he was guilty for presenting Magaris with the facts and coercing her answer towards an "I'll go" instead of supporting her if she said "I don't want to go."
The field was covered with snow. No one was out on the training grounds for the week, as they were home with their families preparing for the winter. All those that lived in nearby villages had taken off. Only the guards at the gate and a few servants to keep the general upkeep of the estate going were still on the property. There was still time before Decembre, but it was better to have all of the preparations done as soon as possible.
The front gate was far away, but it felt so close. The maid's steps were long and trying to get it over with as soon as possible, while at the same time short and trying to delay it. She passed by the same place she'd been scraping windows that morning, by the burlap sacks, by the piled-up stones, by the hedges of a maze she hadn't entered in almost a year. The flowers on the ends of the green leaves, popping out from the depths of those tall natural walls, were sheared off. Snow on the ground appeared melted in some places, sloshing against her shoes while avoiding them. The slight shadow of the manor made her shiver as Saedli made it so much colder, but it became a little less cold when she left that shadow.
It was too far to see who was standing outside of the gates, which were still closed. The guards on either side were standing with their spears pointed diagonally, barring the way anyway. A single dark figure stood beyond them, with what looked like their hands on their head and elbows carelessly out to the sides. They were wearing only dark colors from top to bottom, and the closer Magaris got while approaching from a cautious angle, the more she could tell that it wasn't just dark gray that he wore with the white snow of the purified section of road he stood on contrasting him.
Black.
It was sometimes hard to even recognize the color, it appeared so infrequently in normal surroundings. The only black to be found was in the pupils of eyes or in the shadows of a dark room at night. Besides that, it was not accepted and campaigned against with wild fears of it being Demonically related. Even if the war had come to a standstill at that time, it was still something ingrained in the mind of every Bytristian, and every foreigner that dared to step foot into the kingdom.
Wearing black warrants discrimination, then persecution, then an investigation...and eventually an execution.
Peacetimes did not change that.
Who? Magaris was panicking in her mind. She stopped in her steps. Who would do this to me?
If anyone saw her meeting a man dressed in black, then they would think she was related to Demons somehow, mere maid far from the battlefield or not. Books for summoning were spread all throughout the kingdom, so it wasn't too far of a stretch to assume that she had even the slightest connection to it. With the Fonçe cult making waves more and more every day to make up for the trouble that Demons were no longer causing, as well, the stretch began to shrink.
"No no no..."
Her breath left her in puffs. The face of that servant from before, the look in his eyes of anguish and nervousness.
Magaris could only begin to think about what types of rumors he would spread with fear that tight holding onto him. He'd looked so desperate to get away from her, too.
Her foot went back a step. She was still plenty far away. There was still enough time to back up and just...hide in the maze. Yes.
I'll do that.
"Now why stop halfway? Can't you see your guest is waiting for you?"
That voice.
It was familiar, but it wasn't. She was sure she'd heard it before, somewhere, but where?
Was it really a cult member that came out in broad daylight, or at least as broad of daylight as there could be with a sky full of clouds, that was somehow already behind her? She was sure she'd never met any cult members. If she had, then she wouldn't have known.
"You are the same maid, aren't you? I was so sure I remembered your name correctly. Maggie, or something. Margie? Margis. I don't know. Even if I don't bother to normally remember my mortals, I'm very sure you're the one I'm looking for."
The edges of her vision looked black. Wisps, but when she looked to see them, they weren't there. That person was behind her, looming. They spoke over her head.
Me? Why me?
"Because I have a question for you."
"Magaris!"
"Oh yes, that's it. Magaris. See, I was close-"
What next?
The snow flew up in a flurry. Pulled forward, unable to see while squashed into cloth, Magaris felt weightless until they suddenly jerked to a stop.
What? What just happened?
Looking around was suddenly possible, but there was still something in front of her, blocking her sight.
Leather? A sheath.
Upward, her eyes trailed, until she realized she was looking at the back of a person, and then the back of a brown head.
"S-Sir Fred-"
His hand was partially covered by a half-glove, keeping her behind his back steadily, while the other had drawn a fairly large weapon out from the sheath that was so clearly empty.
"When..."
She was standing on the other side of the courtyard, a place she'd already walked through before. The front of the gate looked very far away again.
"State your business and leave."
"My business is with that girl. You know, the one you're hiding behind you."
"She can hear you. Talk from over there."
"Or what? You'll run me through?" The man scoffed. Magaris leaned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Only dark memories came to mind when it spoke. Not a face, not a hand, not a physique. Only...blackness. "Mortals are so audacious these days."
Oh...
Confidence. That was the first thing that seemed to just pop out of his body, a sphere of it that seemed large enough to encompass her inside of it from over twenty pouriks away. His clothes were completely black, tight on his body. Beyond short sleeves, his arms were bare to the cold weather. The wind didn't seem to do much more than tousle his just-as-dark hair, and his face remained a healthy white instead of reddening from the bite of the frigid air. There were no weapons around him, but it rather seemed that his entire body was one, with the way he flexed his own undeniable strength and crossed his arms.
"You..."
He was far away, but it still couldn't be mistaken that his dark eyes landed on her as she peeked around Sir Frederick's elbow.
His thick brows raised. "Is that recognition I see on your features? Don't tell me, you actually remember me?"
Her lips closed. The dark man laughed a little to himself, incredulous.
"Magaris."
She looked up again. Her suddenly-useful overprotective guardian had slightly turned his head away to only glance at her, for a second. The expression on his face was a focused one, if not tense. Seeing him like that was unusual, since he was only ever calm. He fought more than any other man she knew, besides Terrence, but she never saw them do it. A glance out a window might show a tree or two falling, maybe rustling branches, but they were too fast to see.
Because that's what it meant to be a knight. To be one of the fastest, the strongest, the most able to endure, to keep going. To be a "sir" instead of just a common soldier. There were only four or five knights in the estate, but it felt like there were only two, "watching" Terrence and Frederick spar.
More like seeing their dust.
"Sir F-"
"Who is that man?"
She bit her lips. Somewhere, she'd met him somewhere, but where?
"Where...I." She swallowed. "I can't reme-..."
"Bring me to her."
The maid couldn't breathe. Her eyes slid back to that man in the distance, the hand that covered her face, the darkness that stole her mind.
"Magaris? What's wrong? Magaris? Magaris?"
The knight used his free hand to jostle her, glancing back. Her lack of response was beginning to worry him. The tremor in her voice when she did speak only exacerbated that feeling.
"...put away your sword, Sir Frederick. He's not someone that can be beaten."
"Hm." The man let his head fall to the side. The gaze he cast towards the maid was penetrating and inquisitive. "I see why she keeps you around. No wonder she got so mad when I used you last time."
"Magaris-"
"Now, Frederick."
"..."
Her ire of him on a daily basis was clear. His trust of her words then seemed undeserving. There was no reason for the knight to follow the words of a maid.
But he did.
Audibly, the broadsword cut through the air and arched over his shoulder, passing by tight leather straps of light armor she knew wouldn't have been able to protect him in any fight with a guy like the one in front of them. It clicked into place, the tip by her waist, and his hands focused on keeping her directly behind him regardless of whether or not he could fight.
Anyone able to make it through the barrier surrounding the estate without any hesitation, able to "teleport" at will, was not someone any one of them could deal with.
"Now, where were we...ah, yes. Magaris-" she flinched at the use of her name "-tell me, will I have to tear this place apart stone by stone to get her out, or will you go fetch her for me?"
"...what?"
"Her?" Firea? What?
"Yes, Firea." A hand lifted from his crossed arms, waving towards the manor behind them. "The idiot that thinks she can hide her presence from me after stepping up so far on the God Scale."
The idiot? Hiding? Here? The what?
"Don't sweat the details. Just go get her before I destroy this place. I've been meaning to get even with her after she destroyed my heaven...and I will really do it if she keeps pretending she has rocks for brains."
"The youngest daughter of the estate is not here."
"I'm not asking you, watered-down giant. I'm telling the human girl."
Girl? If Magaris wasn't sweating so coldly those details, then she would've had a chance to be offended. Instead, she was racking her memories for details, wondering if the reality she'd been in thus far was all a dream, that the last year or so of silence and closed-door arguments was just a nightmare she would wake up from soon.
Her arm was burning. The increasing pressure on it drew her gaze to that half-gloved hand.
"Uh," she began. The uniform she wore suddenly didn't seem so thick. Were his nails piercing through the sleeves? "I-..."
"Bring Firea to me."
"She's...not here."
The guards at the front gate didn't seem to be willing to move any closer, stuck outside of it and holding their spears menacingly the same way they had when trying to block that man from approaching. It was like they were...frozen.
"You're lying." His arms crossed again, eyes narrowing. "But..."
"I-I'm not! She left, earlier this year, and she hasn't come back even once!"
He chewed on that for a second. The wind blew his short hair in another direction.
Then, he gave her, "That you know of."
And he was right.
If she had visited, no one would've ever noticed. Her magic was strange, advanced, and undetectable. Unmatched. If she'd been invisible, there would've been no way to see her, and if she had hidden her presence - something she loved to do, Magaris knew - then even if she was visible, no one would've even noticed she was there.
Then, as well, there was the fact that not a single member of the estate was able to access her room. If anything had been moved, taken, disturbed in any manner, then it was not something they would've been able to take note of. The lady of the house had sealed it off before leaving silently in the night, abandoning her status and her husband for as long as she seemed to be pleased.
No cleaning. No opening the windows for fresh air. No putting something inside or taking anything out.
So no one approached.
"Fine. I believe you." His head tilted upward, staring straight at a window on the second floor. "I won't destroy anything, since Firea would get mad at me."
The grip on her arm lessened a bit.
"But she can't hide from me."
He disappeared. Not even a single wisp of black like she'd seen earlier was left behind in his place.
Relief began to leak into the two of them as a pressure she hadn't noticed before, lessened. The two guards at the front gate fell over together, collapsing in a heap on either side of the two metal doors.
She gasped inwards, finding her legs to be a bit too weak for her liking. The knight turned and swept her up before she also completely melted into the snow beneath them.
"Are you alright?"
It was hard to say yes when the questioner had to hold the answerer up. Her feet dangled above the ground, hands pressed into his leather stomach to keep from being unable to breathe. Breathing heavily, trying to suck in some air when it was chilling her throat, when he was pressing too hard. Thoughts running through her head, eyes darting around to chase them, trying to put the pieces together.
He knows me. He knows Fir. He's dangerous. He-He can control people. He controlled me. A year ago. Almost? And then...she disappeared. No. Yes. She disappeared and then she came back. Cursed. Terrence found her-
-her gaze cast itself to the left, looking towards the mowed-down golden grass surrounding a forgotten and slowly deteriorating gazebo-
There. And then she disappeared. And then the lord and lady...fought. And then...the children visited. They were happier. Then they left. Then they fought. Again. And then...the lady left. Thérèse disappeared too. The lord left. But he's back. And-
Her head fell back, looking upside down at that window on the second floor.
"Firea," she gasped.
She's back.
"Magaris."
"Ah...yes. I'm fine...but-"
The curtains in that window. They looked like they rustled. Moved.
Green...?
Her nails dug into the leather armor, hair unraveling from her position. Being shaken around so much had loosened the cap, letting the white thing spiral into the slushy brown snow.
"Let me go."
"Ma-"
She kicked, shimmying out of his grip until her feet hit the ground, pushing off of the knight and running. She couldn't remember the last time her legs had propelled themselves so fast, hands grabbing up the layers of warmth-preserving fabrics, slapping up the steps almost two at a time and tripping over them. Vaguely, it seemed like blonde hair was dancing around her face like limp tassels, but it wasn't something to pay any mind to. Pushing open the large doors of the entrance hall was, although closing them again was a far-off thought. The warm interior was filled quickly with more than just a draft, causing the chandelier at the top of it all to sway and the few candles lit amidst the mana lights to flicker.
Up the main set of stairs, branching off to the right, passing by those exclaiming at her frantic movement. Her name was being called, again and again, but it was something that always hit the air as an expletive every day, so again, not something she paid too much mind to.
"Ma-"
One more floor. The stairs, were they always this far away?
The maid rounded a corner, hardly slowing her pace. The person she ran into slowed it for her, and quite quickly ceased it.
"Oh-!"
Something soft, she'd run into something soft. It grabbed onto her shoulders when she bounced off and went for the ground behind her.
"Magaris."
Adrenaline dissipated her daze.
Dread replaced it, momentarily.
"Master...Earl."
Her heavy breathing tapered as she tried to stop showing something unsightly. She swallowed, pushing air out through her nose, holding her hesitation in her throat.
"Be more careful."
The lord released his maid, letting her sink back onto her heels. She nodded, putting her head down until he went around and left. Only a few seconds afterwards, she was bolting up the stairs he'd just come down.
"Magaris!"
"Frederick."
"S-Sire-"
But they were out of earshot, and Magaris was dashing down a long hall, reaching the very end. Her shoes felt like they'd been slicked with ice when skidding to a stop, grabbing onto the handle and almost ripping it off with her weight. It moved up and down, locked, as it had been for months. It wasn't something a key could fix.
"Hey," she called out, starting small. Her voice rose in volume. There was something inside making noise. "Hey!"
"See?"
The door was open. That room was filled with that mournful gray daylight. Those people inside seemed frozen in the moment, a painting broken by the stunning smile that overcame the man's features as he looked over his shoulder at Magaris.
"I told you she was here."
"Give her back!"
Someone else in the room drew his attention back to them while standing in the middle of a room Magaris was almost sure she'd never see again as long as she lived. The piles of books stacked around the room, the fixtures on the ceiling dangling "solar systems" and "art," maps and "posters" on the walls of different places around the world, the many-times-repaired bed posts killed night after night via "sleep fighting."
Just standing in that doorway, being able to smell the air that had remained undisturbed as if it was an old library from an ancient dungeon no adventurer had found for thousands of years...being able to take a step forward onto its floor, still covered in sparkles from some exploit or another...being able to look around and blink, close her eyes for a moment and remember how many hours she'd spent over the years playing with a baby, feeding a toddler, entertaining a child, or being dragged off for some other whims.
It was enough to calm her adrenaline, to let her feel a sense of peace and energy that had been lacking in the manor for so long, and enough for her to walk in without fear.
It was Firea's room of all things. Nothing made sense in there, no matter what happened inside of it, no matter how many hours she - or anyone - could spend studying the events or objects there.
So the light argument between an overpowering, mysterious stranger, and a funny little girl with green hair and two too-big hands, didn't really seem like that much of a stretch in the eyes of a maid silently along for the ride.
"Shush, Dragon. I have no business with you."
"She's resting!"
"She can rest later. I need to talk to her."
"You can talk to her later!"
"No, because we don't have much time. Unless, of course, you want Thanos to show up here while she's still out of it because of Paivla's torture? And then she'd die without ever having a chance to defend herself because no one was kind enough to wake her up?"
The small girl with green hair was tugging on his pants, reaching up for the red-headed one dangling listlessly in the air. The tips of long fingers reaching to the bottoms of the listless one's bare feet were struggling along with the tips of her pointed toes.
"But...!"
"Face it, Dragon. She's slept almost a month already. If I'd known that this was going to happen, I would've forced her to fight Thanos first so Paivla's hold would've been broken."
"She's still fragile-"
Anguish was filling her features. The man reached down with his other hand, shoving her off.
"Don't worry, Dragon. It'll only hurt a lot. Besides, Firea's far from fragile." The back of her shirt was where she was being held up, and her arm was lifting as she was slipping out of it from her own weight. "I don't think you've ever seen this girl fight."
"So what are you going to do?"
"...wake her up, of course. What's it to you, Maggie?"
"Magaris. What it is to me is that that is my lord's daughter you're holding, and we've all sorely missed her. No one here seems strong enough to stop you." She swallowed and breathed in, trying to find a way to navigate the situation. It was more common that she heard about Firea's exploits later rather than being directly involved, so it was new territory for her. "So I would like to know what you're doing."
"A human..."
The little girl whispered, staring towards the doorway where the maid stood.
The man laughed, lifting the red-headed girl just as she was about to slip out of her shirt. The only thing holding her inside of it was the skull and crossbones cap on her shoulder, its straps hugging her other side tightly. Her body flopped over his shoulder, where she was kept closely. He seemed familiar with holding her.
"You're a brave one, aren't you?"
To that she did not reply. It wasn't really that she was brave as much as it was that she forgot she was supposed to be frightened. Besides, in the face of seeming omnipotence, what was there really to fear? Just as Magaris and likely everyone else felt completely assured when Firea was around, no matter the problem, she had the same feeling standing before him.
No matter anything, as long as he was around, nothing anyone could do would stop him.
"Well. As for what I plan to do, it's something along the lines of waking this one up and informing her of her approaching death if she doesn't get her act together. Then, watching her tear a bunch of challengers apart when she does wake up," he nodded to himself, looking into the distance as if he was seeing it already. "Watching her kill a god. Maybe stop her from going too far, if she upsets those weak-hearted guys and they decide to just drop negotiations and execute her. Hm..." His eyes slid to another side of the room, not seeing the materials but rather the plans he was concocting. "After that, I guess just clean up the mess and see what comes next. That good enough for you?"
I didn't understand a word...
"Good." His smile, oddly enough, seemed perfectly genuine. The warmth of it reached his dark eyes, which lingered on her face. "You're not meant to."
"H-Hey!" The green-haired girl drew his attention back. Her hands were balled up by her sides, watching her friend remain silent through the entire scene. "P-Please stop crushing the humans with your aura! They aren't really that strong!"
But Magaris felt fine. Her heart was far from being in her throat as it had been before. The thought came to mind of the pressure she'd felt earlier, instantly attributed with that "aura" word in her mind. Firea's voice in Magaris' memories popped up suddenly, speaking about auras and mana trails, about soul guardians and subconsciousnesses. It was another thing to add to the list of things she vaguely understood through context.
"Oh, would you look at that. See? Some of them are."
He jerked his chin towards Magaris. No, behind Magaris.
"Sir Frederick...?"
"Heh?! He-He-He's standing?!"
And he was, albeit holding onto the door frame and looking seriously pained. It was becoming a little awkward, since the maid no longer knew what to do. Just...stand here, I guess.
"Well then, I think it's time to depart before I cause any serious damage that Firea would snap at me for."
"T-Take me with you!"
"Huh? Why would I bring a Dragon with me?"
"B-Because you're crude!"
"Crude? In no way am I such a thing. I prefer to be called thoughtful. And I should be, considering how much I've done for this girl."
"T-Then...I'll take care of her! So she doesn't cause you more trouble!"
"Nope. Bye, little Dragon. I'll take care of her myself. I'm not so useless that I'd need a child to do it for me."
"Ahhhh-"
And he...they...were gone.
"-hhh!"
She'd lunged and fallen flat on the floor after disturbing a tower of books that proceeded to topple over her head. Magaris lifted her hands, feeling no change in the atmosphere that suddenly let the knight behind her stand up straight. Sweat was already pouring off of him as he breathed harshly, as if he'd exerted himself heavily just to get down the hall.
"Are," he breathed in strongly, letting his hand fall off the hilt of his sword. It became a fist that planted itself in the floor as he fell down to kneel. "You...alrigh...t?"
"I'm obviously better than you." The maid crossed her arms, looking down on the knight. She wanted to scoff. "I should be asking you the same question."
It felt kind of nice to be looking down on him for once, instead of craning her sore neck up to hiss at him when he came too close. She ignored the fact that he was almost as tall as her even while kneeling.
"Owowow..."
The dust was flying through the air so thickly that not even sunlight was needed to show it filtering through. Fallen books splayed themselves around on the ground, sliding under the bed, opened to random pages. Another pile had toppled over with it, and the girl beneath it all was face down and groaning.
The knight was no longer the center of attention, as the maid turned away, dress billowing about her legs.
"Mag-"
"Shhh," she flipped a hand up behind her, reaching for the door and nudging it shut. Her eyes were on the girl that for some reason refused to get up. "I'm cleaning. The dangerous guy is gone. You can go now."
It clicked shut in his confused face.
The maid and the mystery girl were alone.
Magaris knelt on the ground herself, pulling away books and stacking them while glancing to her right. They weren't in their original order, since she didn't know the original order, but she did know which belonged to which stack while looking at their titles. It was easy to tell, since they were arranged by language. The Elves loved small, slim fonts, while the Dwarves loved thick, bold ones. Bytristian humans had boring standard ones, while those of Newone had every title red and reading from the bottom up. Those from Chardrent had all of their books made from the same material...those from Venx had their books pure white; the ones sold to foreigners, at least...those from Zueltina had mostly plant-based covers, so they were very flimsy, but more waterproof than any other...
But of all the books that were stacked, the ones from the littlest lady's favorite author were separated into a category of their own.
"Here," a dejected voice mumbled. A book was in her face when she turned, and sharp green nails were reaching up its length. "S-Sorry..."
Magaris took the book and lifted it out of her face to see the one on the other side. "You're done pretending to sleep, then?"
"Ah..."
The girl shriveled on the spot. Her baggy clothes seemed to envelope her while she sank down to the floor.
This day just keeps getting better and better. A kidnapper, a Dragon, a runaway little lady. What next?
There wasn't really any point in doing anything other than sighing. It was no longer such an incredulous thing. The past eleven months it had taken for her surroundings to become normal and quiet were thrown out the window when reaching a hand out to the nonhuman on the floor. It was long overdue that something like that happened. Life just wasn't letting Magaris - or really anyone in the manor, when she thought about it - be normal.
So she put on a light smile, trying to appear somewhat friendly despite her hectic day, and took in a deep breath.
Who needs normal anymore?
"I'm Magaris. You?"