Evoker

A second carriage arrived just after Alden’s, the two vehicles pulling up side by side in the shaded courtyard of Highfield Manor. The house’s staff moved quickly to accommodate both nobles, ensuring that the visitors were settled into their respective quarters.

Marianne Raventhorn stepped out of her carriage with practised grace, her jet-black hair catching the light as she adjusted her cloak. The silver of her eyes gleamed in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the darkness of her hair—a signature trait of House Raventhorn. At just fifteen, she already carried herself with the poise expected of a noble’s daughter, but there was something guarded about her expression, a glimmer of calculation behind her polite smile.

Roderic approached her with measured steps, his face revealing none of the tension he carried inside. “Lady Marianne Raventhorn, I trust your journey was smooth?”

“It was, my Lord,” she replied, offering a courteous nod. Her voice was polite, but restrained. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“We’re honoured to have you here,” Roderic said, his eyes briefly flicking over her, gauging her composure. “I understand this may be a bit of an adjustment.”

Marianne’s expression remained composed, her silver eyes cool and observant. “An adjustment, certainly. But not unwelcome.” She glanced around the courtyard briefly, her gaze flicking to Alden's arrival before returning to Roderic. “It’s important to understand one’s surroundings.”

Roderic smiled thinly, recognising her sharpness. “Indeed. I trust you’ll settle in quickly.”

Marianne nodded, but there was a certain wariness in her posture. “I expect I will. I’d like to take some time today to... acquaint myself with Highfield and its people.”

Roderic's smile didn’t falter, though a slight tension passed through him. “Of course. Please, feel free to observe. We will speak more later.”

Marianne curtsied gracefully before moving away, leaving Roderic to turn his attention to Alden’s approaching carriage. As she walked, Marianne’s eyes roamed the estate grounds, noting the subtle details of the people and the building. The first half of the day was hers to observe—to gather the information she would need to navigate her role here.

The staff at Highfield, she noted, were disciplined, though their movements suggested a respect that had been earned, not enforced. The manor itself was imposing but lacked the extravagant flourishes of more ostentatious noble estates. There was a sense of purpose here, rather than grandeur. Roderic was clearly a man who preferred practicality, and the respect he commanded seemed well-deserved. The question of where she would fit into all of this hung in the back of her mind as she took it all in.

Roderic stood in the shaded courtyard, watching Alden approach with a calm but guarded expression. The tension from the previous day still lingered in the air—a subtle undercurrent between them that spoke of the stakes whenever Evokers were involved. He offered a nod to Alden, a touch of wry amusement tugging at his lips.

"Lord Alden," Roderic said, his tone more conversational than formal. "I see your newly awakened son heading to the training yard. Quite the development for Highfield to have not one, but two young Evokers under its roof."

Alden gave a slight smile, his eyes following Roderic’s gaze to where his son, Cyrus, was already in the training yard, his stance poised and ready. "Yes, Cyrus couldn’t wait to show off his skills. It's been... an adjustment, but a welcome one."

Roderic raised an eyebrow, glancing over to where a young man with striking red hair was warming up in the training yard. Cyrus was tall for his age, his frame already filling out with the bulk of physical training. His skin had a healthy tan, and his fiery red hair was cropped short, which only made his piercing green eyes more pronounced. He had the build of someone used to hard work and combat drills, and his movements carried an innate confidence, as if he already knew his own potential.

"Ah, Cyrus," Roderic said, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Your third son, isn’t he? I'd say you’re rather fortunate it wasn't your heir who awakened. The whole line of succession would have been thrown into chaos."

Alden chuckled lightly, though there was an undercurrent of tension in his smile. "The Goddess knows what she's doing, it seems. I suppose she favours my wife's lineage more than mine, judging by the colour of Cyrus's hair." He gestured to his son’s fiery red hair, a stark contrast to Alden's own darker tones. "It’s said red hair is a mark of the Visage of War and he certainly takes after his mother. Strong-willed, fiery, and far too stubborn for his own good."

"At least you’ll have the first claim on him when he returns from the academy," Roderic said with a hint of a smile. "Awakening on your own lands does come with its privileges."

"Quite right," Alden replied, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "It’s good to know that our family’s investment stays within reach. Small mercies, as they say. Let’s see if he can prove himself worthy of that loyalty in the sparring yard."

Leon stood across from Cyrus in the training yard, gripping his practice sword with a calm focus. The anticipation of the upcoming spar settled over the courtyard, turning the air thick with a competitive edge. Cyrus’s confident smile hinted at a competitive spirit that was ready to be tested.

"Before we start," Cyrus said, his voice carrying a note of challenge, "I should explain my Aspect—'The Flameheart.' The longer I keep moving, the stronger I get. Speed, power, reflexes—they all ramp up with sustained action."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "So, the longer the fight, the more dangerous you become?"

"Exactly," Cyrus said, a grin spreading across his face. "Most people don’t last long enough to notice the difference. Let’s see how you do."

They began cautiously, trading measured blows that tested each other's defences. Leon moved with precision, his training kicking in as he blocked and countered Cyrus's strikes. At first, they seemed evenly matched, with neither able to gain the upper hand. But as the minutes ticked by, Leon could see a shift in Cyrus's movements. He was getting faster, his attacks more forceful.

Faint wisps of fiery energy started to coil around Cyrus’s limbs, a visible sign that his Aspect was kicking in. With each swing of his sword, the heat seemed to rise, and Leon found himself being pushed back, struggling to keep up with the ever-increasing speed and power of Cyrus’s strikes. The burning intensity in Cyrus’s eyes never wavered, and as his Aspect ramped up, Leon felt the gap between their abilities widening.

With a final, explosive burst of energy, Cyrus disarmed Leon, sending his practice sword clattering to the ground. A small smile tugged at Cyrus’s lips as he extended a hand to help Leon back to his feet.

"Well fought," Cyrus said, his voice carrying a note of genuine respect. "You lasted longer than most do when the Flameheart gets going."

Leon accepted the hand, pulling himself up. "Your Aspect is incredible," he admitted, still catching his breath. He couldn’t help but be in awe of the transformation he’d witnessed.

Cyrus's smile grew as he pulled a small crystal from his pocket. "Take a look at this," he said, holding it up for Leon to see. "Caelus made it for me—it’s a memory crystal that projects a vision of the last Evoker who wielded the Flameheart."

He gave the crystal a quick shake, and a glowing image of a fierce warrior surrounded by blazing energy appeared above it, demonstrating a sequence of powerful, fluid strikes. The sight was mesmerising—like watching a legend come to life.

"Normally, you’d infuse it with mana to activate," Cyrus explained, his tone casual, "but we can’t do that until we reach the second circle. Caelus added the shake function since we’re stuck at zero for now."

Leon’s brow furrowed in curiosity. "Second circle? I haven’t heard much about that yet."

Cyrus glanced at Leon, surprised by the question. "Right, you’re still new to this." He seemed to enjoy the opportunity to explain. "When an Evoker forges their Circles, they deepen their connection to mana. The second circle is when we gain the ability to channel mana into objects directly. That’s when things like this crystal can be activated properly."

Leon nodded, absorbing the information. He realised that there was still so much he didn't know about his own abilities or what awaited him at the academy. This brief glimpse into Cyrus’s Aspect and the Circles gave him a sense of just how much further he had to go.

Roderic took Leon back inside, the weight of the sparring session still hanging in the air. Leon’s mind raced with thoughts of the Flameheart, and how much further he had to go to master his own abilities. But his thoughts shifted quickly when Roderic guided him toward a new part of the manor—one he rarely ventured into. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the parlour where Marianne was waiting.

“Leon,” Roderic said, gesturing toward the poised girl standing by the window. “This is Lady Marianne Raventhorn. She will be your retainer.”

Leon blinked, taking in Marianne’s composed figure. He had read about retainers—nobles often assigned them to young Evokers to act as personal servants and assistants, but their duties extended far beyond the mundane. Retainers were trusted with gathering information, acting as diplomats, managing affairs, and even protecting their Evokers' reputations in political circles. They also handled daily tasks like a personal maid or butler would, tending to the Evoker's practical needs.

He bowed his head slightly, unsure how to address her. “It’s an honour to meet you, Lady Marianne.”

Marianne offered a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The honour is mine, Evoker Leon.”

Once they were alone, Marianne’s poised smile wavered ever so slightly. She turned to Leon, her posture still perfectly straight, but there was a flicker of something more vulnerable in her eyes now that they were out of Roderic’s sight.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice lowering to a more guarded tone. "I suppose I should tell you—my father has certain... hopes for this arrangement." She met Leon’s gaze, her expression growing more serious. "He thinks I might be able to... win your favour in ways beyond just service."

Leon frowned, confused by the sudden announcement. “Winning my favour in ways beyond service… I don’t…”

A second of silence transpired as Leon tried to comprehend the deeper meaning without success. Marianne raised her eyebrows in surprise before forging ahead against Leon’s youthful naivete. “He hopes that we will be more than friends, Leon. That I might gain influence over you, as a woman…” she trailed off, leaving one eyebrow raised. She flicked her long hair over one shoulder for good measure.

Leon’s eyes went round in shock and understanding, mouth slightly ajar. After a second, he regained his composure, though his cheeks remained flushed. “Oh. Um. I... see.”

Marianne gave a small, dry smile, her tone lighter but still serious. "Let’s just say he has ambitions. But I have no interest in following through with his plans like some pawn. I thought it best to be honest with you from the start."

Leon blinked, unsure of how to respond to her sudden candour. "Why tell me this?"

Marianne shrugged, her voice still casual but with an edge of sincerity. "I prefer honesty. I’m here because I have to be, but I don’t intend to play by the rules my father has set. You and I can pretend for appearances, but privately... I'd rather we work together on our own terms."

Leon studied her for a moment, sensing the guardedness behind her words. She was putting up walls, just as he was, but her offer of honesty was... unexpected. And strangely, it made him feel a little more at ease.

He nodded slowly. “That sounds... fair.”

Marianne allowed a small, genuine smile this time, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. “Good. Then let’s get one thing straight—I’m not your enemy, Leon. If anything, we can help each other.”

Leon nodded again, feeling a sense of cautious relief. “I think I’d like that.”

Marianne stepped back, crossing her arms with a more thoughtful look. “Right. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I need to know where we stand—your current situation, politically and otherwise.”

Leon blinked, taken aback by the shift in tone. “You... need to know?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Politics is my game, Leon. If I’m going to be of any help to you, I need to understand where you fit into the web that surrounds you. So, let’s start with Roderic. He’s your patron, obviously. How’s that working out?”

Leon tilted his head slightly, thinking. “Well, he’s the one who brought me here, made sure I was trained, educated, and... invested a lot in me.”

Marianne nodded slowly, watching his expression. “He’s solid enough, but he’s got his own pressures, especially from other nobles, doesn’t he?”

Leon frowned, processing her words. “What do you mean?”

“He’s still seen as a commoner who got lucky with land. That’s what I mean. Nobles don’t forget things like that. So, he’s going to push you hard—not just to make sure you succeed, but because your success reflects on him.”

Leon blinked, not realising the full extent of what she was saying. “So... he needs me to be strong because it protects his own position.”

“Exactly,” Marianne confirmed, “but it’s tricky for him. He’s invested in you, but...”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

Marianne gave him a long look. “You’ve noticed how closely he keeps your mother here, haven’t you?”

Leon blinked, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Marianne gave a small shrug, as if the answer was obvious. “It’s standard practice, of course. Nobles often take in the families of newly awakened Evokers. Makes sure the bond between the Evoker and their patron stays... strong.”

Leon nodded slowly. “Right. I figured that much.”

Marianne glanced at him, studying his reaction, then gave a thoughtful hum. “Still, he does seem... invested in her well-being. More than just as your patron, perhaps.”

Leon frowned, still not grasping the subtlety. “I mean, he’s been good to us, but it’s his duty, isn’t it?”

Marianne bit back a knowing smile, but when she saw the confusion in Leon’s eyes, she decided to let the matter drop. “Of course,” she said lightly, her gaze flickering with amusement. “I’m sure it’s nothing more.”

She moved on swiftly. “Then there’s Madam Aldwin. She’s grooming you for greatness. Would you say she has any... special interest in you?”

Leon sighed, suddenly feeling the complexity of it all. “I don’t know. She’s strict, but she’s been pushing me harder and harder lately. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well,” Marianne continued, “don’t let her calm exterior fool you—she’s thinking five steps ahead. You’re her prize student, and she’s enjoying every bit of prestige that brings. But, like with everyone, there’s something in it for her.”

Leon rubbed his temples, feeling overwhelmed. “I never thought this would be so complicated.”

Marianne gave him a wry smile. “That’s why I’m here, Leon. Now, let’s talk about Baron Corwell’s son and whoever else is sticking their nose into Highfield’s business.”

Leon straightened up, interested despite himself. “What do I need to know?”

“You’ve got a chance to impress them, and here’s how you’ll do it,” Marianne said, her voice shifting to a strategic tone. “Play it humble. Be polite, respectful, but don’t let them think you’re just some backwater commoner. You’re an Evoker, and that carries weight. Let them feel important, but make sure they know you’re no pushover.”

Leon frowned. “How exactly do I do that?”

Marianne let out an exaggerated sigh. “Ask them about their studies, their experiences, let them talk. Then, when they’re comfortable, drop in something clever from your lessons. You don’t have to outshine them—just enough to make them realise you’re more than they expected.”

Leon chuckled at the thought. “So... flattery and subtle one-upmanship?”

“Exactly,” Marianne said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Welcome to the noble world.”

Leon shook his head, still smiling. “This sounds exhausting.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she said with a wink. “Besides, that’s why I’m here—to make sure you don’t get eaten alive. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you survive the academy with your dignity intact.”

Leon smiled, feeling a sense of relief despite the overwhelming situation. “Thanks... I think.”

“Don’t mention it,” Marianne said, waving a hand. “Just remember, you owe me for this. I like cakes. The expensive kind.”

Leon chuckled. “Noted.”

Marianne’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “Good. Now, let’s get to work.”