Despite her expectations, Scarlett found herself in Freymeadow more than once in the week following the Hallowed Cabal and the Tribe of Sin’s attacks on the empire. Though the anticipated busywork back home wasn’t absent, Lady Withersworth’s timely presence and guidance in the relief efforts proved invaluable, freeing up Scarlett’s time for other matters. These included addressing barony-related issues, engaging in recurring discussions with Beldon, exchanging the occasional communication with Raimond, and dedicating herself to even further magic training.

Evelyne was still bedridden, even after Rosa and other skilled healers had tended to her. While Rosa had assured Scarlett that the young woman’s prognosis was largely positive and her life wasn’t at risk, the timeline for her recovery remained uncertain. What was clear, however, was that even if Evelyne could work from her bed, Scarlett wouldn’t allow it. She surprised herself with her willingness to enforce the woman’s rest, despite the increased workload it placed on her shoulders. This determination persisted even as they’d barely seen each other since Scarlett’s return, an odd tension lingering between them.

Perhaps it was the allure of escaping these self-imposed responsibilities that drew Scarlett to Freymeadow. It felt almost ironic how her time in the village had become a sort of refuge, even though her visits were far from relaxing under the watchful eye of the despotic Arlene, who oversaw her magic training with what could generously be described as an iron fist.

Scarlett couldn’t shake the feeling that Arlene had been even harsher on her in recent loops. The raven-haired taskmaster pushed Scarlett’s mana supply to its limits nowadays, leaving her so drained at the end of each day that even Rosa’s charms were barely enough to keep her moving.

Perhaps it was just a natural response to Scarlett’s growing skills, with Arlene recognising her improvement and increasing the difficulty to match?

In particular, the woman had been focusing intensely on developing Scarlett’s hydrokinesis lately. This included coming up with new combat applications, refining existing techniques, and using water-based magic to counter Arlene’s own formidable pyromancy spells. Though Scarlett had always struggled with hydrokinesis, she didn’t mind the opportunity to hone the skill now that she’d upgraded it to a higher level. That said, she doubted it would ever surpass her affinity for pyrokinesis.

One day, after an especially grueling training session in the forest clearing outside Freymeadow, Scarlett found herself sitting on the ground, her back pressed against the rough bark of a thick tree. A soft blanket spread beneath her offered at least some slight comfort as she looked up at Arlene, who stood before her with arms crossed, gazing off into the forest towards Freymeadow.

Seeking to break the silence, Scarlett ventured a question on a topic she’d been thinking about recently. “How challenging do you believe it would be for me to learn formal spells at this point in my training?”

Arlene turned to her, the woman’s pale green eyes fixed on Scarlett. “As challenging as learning any new skill. It’s all a matter of time and dedication.” One eyebrow rose on her forehead. “I was under the impression you didn’t have enough of either to spend. What brought this about?”

“It is simply something I have been contemplating lately. My recent research has involved the Zuver and their texts, including many of the characters that comprise contemporary magical scrips and runes. I have found myself becoming increasingly familiar with these and wondered if that knowledge could be applied when learning modern spells. That is all.”

“Knowing runes and their construction is part of spellcasting.” Arlene’s brows furrowed. “But it’s not enough on its own.” She studied Scarlett closely, eyes narrowing slightly. “Have you really learned to read runes?”

“The Zuverian equivalents, at least,” Scarlett said.

“That would be impressive if true.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“I’m cautiously optimistic. You didn’t strike me as the type to delve into the intricacies of ancient Zuver linguistics.”

“I imagine that there is much that you do not know about me. My recent acquaintance with the Zuver language is but one example.”

Arlene’s eyebrow rose higher. “You speak as if it’s a recent development.”

Scarlett offered a light shrug, her shoulders rising and falling slowly. “Perhaps it is.”

The woman fell silent, considering her for several seconds. Then she unfolded her arms and, with a fluid wave of her hand, conjured a glowing rune of fire that hovered in the air between them.

“What’s this?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Scarlett’s face.

Scarlett leaned forward, studying the flickering symbol closely. After a moment, she answered, “…’Tizark’. It means ‘ignite’.”

Slight surprise flashed across Arlene’s feature before a ghost of a smile touched her lips. Another rune materialised, replacing the first. “And this?”

“‘Korlath’,” Scarlett replied, without hesitation this time. “It can roughly be translated as ‘shield’. Presumably, that rune is used for defensive spells.”

“Among other things, yes.” Arlene nodded approvingly as a third, more complex rune appeared.

Scarlett frowned. “…I do not recognize this one precisely, but it seems to combine the symbols for ‘sea’ and ‘flow’.”

“You’re close,” Arlene said. “It’s called ‘Aqualis’, and it’s a common component in most modern hydromancy spells.” With another wave of her hand, she caused the rune to flare brilliantly before dispersing into motes of light. “Usually, casting a spell doesn’t require materializing the runes, but it can be helpful for beginners.”

“I see. That does make sense.”

Arlene regarded her for another long moment.

“Is there something you wish to say?” Scarlett asked, meeting the woman’s gaze.

Arlene shook her head. “No, I’m simply…surprised. You continue to perplex me.”

“I presume that is a compliment?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Then I will take it as such.” Scarlett rested her palms on her lap, her posture relaxing. “Anyhow, so simply being familiar with runes will not be enough on its own to master spellcasting. In truth, I had already surmised as much. However, it should still be of aid when learning spells, no?”

“It would certainly make things easier for you, yes,” Arlene conceded, then paused, her expression growing more serious. “…But I think it’s best if you don’t spend too much time trying to learn traditional magic. You should focus on what you already excel at.”

Scarlett looked at her with mild surprise. “And why is that?”

Arlene’s gaze grew distant for a short while as she seemed to consider her words carefully. “Despite the disadvantages of your approach, you’re already working on addressing those. Your talent in hydrokinesis and pyrokinesis is truly impressive, and I believe your potential with them far surpasses what you could achieve with traditional magic in the same amount of time.”

“Is that so…?” Scarlett mulled over the woman’s words. It was roughly the same conclusion she’d come to herself, which was why she hadn’t invested too much time in this endeavour after confirming that Thainnith’s legacy hadn’t taught her actual spells. If she had wanted to become a proper mage, she should have started months ago when she first arrived in this world. She wasn’t lamenting that fact too much, but it was just a shame to feel as though she wasn’t fully utilising everything the legacy offered her.

“…That is not to say there aren’t ways for you to use that knowledge of yours,” Arlene continued after a brief silence. “Depending on how familiar you are with these runes, there are arrays that you can set up even without extensive experience in casting spells. While they won’t come close to what you can achieve with your hydrokinesis or pyrokinesis, if you use the runes properly and have a sufficient mana supply, they could yield some useful results.”The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Scarlett blinked, surprised at how closely Arlene’s words mirrored her own thoughts. “What kind of arrays would these be?”

“That depends on you,” Arlene replied. “It’s not enough to simply know how the runes look, but in theory, you could establish very primitive defensive formations, assuming you have the time and resources.”

So things like fire barriers and the like? Even if Scarlett couldn’t replicate more complex effects like her Aqua Mines, formations like those could still prove useful. Especially if she could set up these arrays around the estate and use the Loci to supply mana.

“You would teach me this, then?” Scarlett asked, a trace of ambition finding its way into her voice.

Arlene’s expression hardened. “Under one condition.”

“And that is?”

The atmosphere suddenly shifted as the woman’s demeanour seemed to become deadly serious. “From now on, you must give everything to our training,” she said, voice firm and unyielding. “I agreed to teach you, but this is not your playground. If you can’t handle the demands of being my pupil, then you shouldn’t return after you leave tonight.”

Scarlett stared at her, taken aback by the sudden intensity. What was Arlene talking about? She talked as if Scarlett was slacking with her practice, but if anything, she had been pushing herself harder here than anywhere else. She was regularly teetering on the brink of mana exhaustion. For the woman to put forth that condition, stated so gravely, felt strange.

As Scarlett met Arlene’s severe gaze, a sense of uncertainty bubbled up within her.

…Actually, maybe she had been slacking, in a sense — not in the effort, but in mindset. She wasn’t really sure when it had happened, but at some point, she’d almost begun to view Freymeadow less as a quest location to overcome and more as a fixture in her current life. She had started to see Arlene as an actual teacher, even though this place and the woman’s position were only temporary.

Arlene wasn’t teaching Scarlett out of kindness. She had her own goals in making Scarlett stronger. Had this version of the woman somehow sensed this shift in Scarlett’s attitude? Was this her way of warning Scarlett not to lose focus?

…Was this perhaps a sign that Scarlett’s time in Freymeadow was coming to an end?

It was true that by now, Scarlett had likely been here longer than you were in the game. She’d visited Freymeadow more frequently than expected, but when she finally completed Arlene’s quest, her main reason for coming here would be gone. Yet lately, she hadn’t given much thought to what came next, even though she knew it was inevitable.

It probably wasn’t a coincidence that much of Arlene’s focus in these past visits had been on improving Scarlett’s hydrokinesis to counter her own magic in their sparring sessions.

Scarlett honestly wasn’t sure what to feel about that at this point. Was it natural to experience some hesitance after all this time? Was that what she was feeling, or were her other personality traits overwriting that? As always, it was hard to tell.

In the end, did it really matter? She had been determined from the start and wasn’t about to back down now.

After several long seconds, she spoke, her voice steady and resolute. “I understand. You have my word that I will fully commit to my training while under your tutelage.”

Arlene’s gaze remained locked on her for a while longer, as if probing the depths of Scarlett’s determination. Finally, she gave a single, curt nod. “I believe you.”

“You know, I’ve never thought of it before, but why do witches in stories always have black cats? What’s wrong with tabbies?” Rosa mused from Scarlett’s left, sounding genuinely curious.

Allyssa’s eyes lit up. “I love tabbies.”

“Right? Who doesn’t?” Rosa nodded shrewdly. “If I were a witch, I’d have a house brimming with them. Just an army of adorable, striped felines.”

“I prefer dogs,” Fynn said.

Rosa reached over and gave him a playful pat on the head, her fingers ruffling his white hair. “No surprise there. Loyal to a fault, aren’t we?”

“Personally, I am partial to Abyssinians,” Lady Withersworth interjected from where she was seated opposite Scarlett in their carriage.

“Oh?” Rosa’s eyebrows shot up with interest. “Now that’s a take I haven’t stumbled upon in any taverns. You’ve earned my tip of the hat. I suspected you had refined tastes.”

Lady Withersworth’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “You’re too kind, dear. But please, do continue. Flattery is a crucial part of aging gracefully.”

“Well, I usually reserve my praise for our stoic leader here, but I suppose I can spare one or two more.” Rosa raised her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat theatrically. “My Lady, your taste is as impeccable as a dragon’s hoard — only you manage to do it without the flames and scales. Your sense of style could turn even a humble carriage ride into a royal procession.”

Lady Withersworth’s soft laugher filled the cabin. “Oh, I’m beginning to understand why some of my peers employ minstrels for their entertainment. That is rather different from the usual flattery I receive. It’s quite delightful.”

“But of course,” Rosa replied with a sly grin, bowing her head slightly. “As long as the gold’s good, us traveling songsters would sell our shadows to a phantom.”

“I do hope you don’t, dear.” Lady Withersworth turned to Scarlett with her smile. “Baroness, you do have an interesting troupe around you. I’m sure you’re never bored with these lively companions around.”

Scarlett looked at her, then at Rosa, and back at the woman, her expression carefully neutral. “…Indeed. Never.”

Beside her, Rosa shook her head while clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Take note, Fynn. This is what we call ‘sarcasm’.”

Fynn’s brown furrowed, as if actually keeping that in mind.

“I’m not sure that counts as sarcasm,” Allyssa said, pressing a finger to her chin. “It sounded more ironic? Or maybe just deadpan?”

Scarlett sighed as her companions debated the nuance of her response, while Lady Withersworth continued to regard her with an amused smile. “You should cherish these eventful moments of yours while you can, Baroness,” she spoke in a quieter tone. “Before you know it, you’ll be my age, and excitement will come in the form of a back that doesn’t ache in the morning.”

“…I will bear that in mind,” Scarlett replied. She turned her gaze out the window, observing the snow-blanketed streets of Freybrook. There weren’t many people out at this time of day, with the sun slowly rising behind a veil of grey clouds. Some signs of damage still remained in Freybrook from the attack, but not much in these parts.

Their group had departed from the mansion at dawn, heading towards the Kilnstone. Usually, having six people in the carriage was a tight fit, especially for an older woman who had only recently recovered from injuries, but not this time. Although it had taken a while, the new carriages Evelyne had commissioned were finally finished, and they made the journey notably more comfortable. Roomier and more luxurious than its predecessor, the enchanted vehicle focused on both comfort and durability. Its polished wood and plush upholstery spoke to Scarlett’s current sensibilities, and it was a detail that likely wouldn’t go unnoticed at their destination.

After a while, Scarlett turned back to Lady Withersworth. “Do you know if your family will be present in Elystead as well?”

The woman’s expression softened. “My daughter will be there, but my son has returned to our lands to oversee our lands while that oaf of a husband of mine is busy entangling himself in the capital’s political quagmire.”

“It seems everyone has their hands full these days.”

“Indeed. I would be surprised if even a quarter of the nobility shows up for this conclave. These are trying times for the empire.”

Scarlett nodded slowly. “True.”

Beldon had told her much the same when she last spoke with him. While the Cabal and Tribe of Sin hadn’t launched another large-scale assault yet, reports of monster attacks were on the rise, keeping many nobles occupied in their own territories.

In light of the crises the empire was facing, a general conclave had been called in the capital for nobles to meet and discuss strategies for addressing the situation. Attendance wasn’t mandatory, and Scarlett knew that a lot of important decisions had already been made outside of it, but it would still be a gathering of many influential individuals.

Scarlett had initially considered skipping it, but Lady Withersworth had persuaded her to go. The older noblewoman believed there was much Scarlett could gain from being there, and since the conclave wouldn’t last as long as the Light Fest had, Scarlett wouldn’t be stuck in the capital for an extended period, either. That was good, given the myriad other responsibilities and matters vying for her attention. Beyond her visits to Freymeadow, there were several unresolved matters awaiting her on the Rising Isle, for instance.

As their carriage passed a small shop, Lady Withersworth’s gaze was drawn to a young woman diligently clearing snow from the entrance. “It’s rather unfortunate that your sister couldn’t accompany us,” she said. “I can attest to how tedious it is to be cooped up in bed for hours and days on end.”

Scarlett’s eyes lingered on the shopkeeper for a moment. “She will endure.”

“Oh, I’m sure. You Hartfords seem to be cut from sturdy stock, as my husband would say. Still, having saved this old lady’s life, I can’t help but feel a tad worried for both her and you.”

“…I see,” Scarlett replied after a brief pause. “I believe she would value your concern.”

The conversation lapsed into silence, neither of them inclined to pursue the topic further. Throughout her stay at the mansion, Lady Withersworth had been subtly probing the dynamics between Scarlett and Evelyne, clearly curious about their relationship. However, she had always maintained a respectful distance, never pushing too far.

As they continued their journey through Freybrook’s snow-laden streets, the carriage eventually arrived at the expansive circular square housing the city’s Kilnstone. The scene that greeted them was markedly different from Scarlett’s departure for the Rising Isle. Gone were the queues of travelers and merchants. In their place stood a small city of tents and temporary shelters, their canvas walls fluttering in the crisp winter air. Red-robed figures moved purposefully among the structures, while workers bustled about, ferrying crates and supplies.

These were part of the relief efforts coordinated by the Followers of Ittar, leveraging the empire-wide Kilnstone network. Technically, that meant some of the individuals here were likely working directly or indirectly for her, given her involvement in Freybrook’s relief initiatives.

Lady Withersworth’s gaze remained fixed on the makeshift camps as their carriage drew near the Kilnstone, a contemplative expression on her features. Scarlett turned her attention from the woman as two officials approached their vehicle to verify their credentials before letting them through. Nobles were essentially the only ones permitted to use Kilnstone for personal travel like this at the moment, and even then, only under specific circumstances.

Upon clearing the checks, their carriage rolled into the structure housing the Kilnstone. The ancient artifact loomed before them, its surface a reflective grey. The officials conducted their final checks with practiced efficiency before stepping back.

The Kilnstone activated, its power surging as it absorbed all ambient light and plunged their surroundings into an unnatural darkness. Then, in the blink of an eye, they arrived in Elystead.