4 A bird in her cage

After the discussion with her father, the days went by quickly. Is what Dahlia would like to say. Frankly, the last few days dragged on and bordered on torture. Not only were her anxieties increasing each day she got closer to the ceremony, but all the while she had to juggle her mother's lessons with the 'homework' assigned by her father.

Of course, she did finish the assigned work. If there was one thing Dahlia was good at, it was homework and studying. She was so proficient in fact, that when she went back to reread her work, she thought she was about to have an aneurism.

'Do I just hate men? Wait. Does that make me sexist?!'

She shook her head, trying to shake loose whatever unhealthy thoughts were hiding in there.

'How is that even fair? I haven't even been given the chance to go outside and meet people beyond family connections and servants, yet apparently I've already written off half the population. What am I, an idiot? How am I even going to make friends if I keep this up?!"

Sighing, she began to look over her detailed report, scanning it with as objective an eye as possible, all while nursing a cup of ginger tea to quell her nausea.

'It's not like I chose this but it's just innate. Why do I have to feel sick just considering getting a husband? And these three… these three are the worst!'

In a fit of rage she tossed the report on the ground! A surge of rebellion washed over her as she did so! … And then she picked all the papers back up and put them in a tidy pile. Can't let hard work go to waste after all.

The three suggested suitors truly were awful though. In the last few days she had learned just how corrupt or disgusting each one was. Forget any initial opinions based just on picture and title, the truth was that all three would be better considered monsters than men. Of them, the young duke-to-be was the least horrible, but that was more due to his shorter lifespan rather than any redeeming quality.

'It's like each one was picked specifically in order to torment me if I were to wed them. Honestly, if things don't go well today then…'

She didn't really know what to do in the case of not getting a light aspect. By this point, every plan she made to get her out of the bad situation while also regaining her parents' favour was strictly dependent on her aspect. Quite frankly, writing this report had shown her what staring down the barrel felt like.

'Step one. Nothing goes wrong. Step two, celebrate. Easy enough.'

She chuckled a bit to herself as she thought things through, all while watering a small shrub she kept on her desk and petting it like it was a small kitten.

'I need to seriously start being more honest about my situation… Thinking about bad outcomes makes me lose my sanity but if the worst case happens, then I'd rather at least be somewhat prepared beforehand. But the issue really does come down to choosing the best of multiple evils.'

Lifting the shrub up and holding it in her lap while still petting it in a soothing motion, she began to consider her options if she gets a bad aspect.

'First is to accept the plans that have been thrust onto me and marry. Without a doubt it'll make my parents pleased, but it won't be directed at me. They'll just be happy to have me out of their hair as they get a nice little dowry alongside it. All the while, I'll be isolated and likely become some type of plaything for my new husband.'

No, option one was a bad idea.

'That leads to option two. Which is… what? Disobey my parents and remain single, all while remaining on the property and hoping they accept me? Yeah right. If I get a bad aspect and then refuse them outright, then I'm more likely to end up dead than anything else.'

Option two sounded pretty bad too. The only real upside was not marrying against her will but… well, dying shortly after at her parents' hands would be far from pleasant.

'I guess option three is to off myself before my parents get to me? No, scratch that. I have no desire to die any time soon, so I won't even consider it. Option three can be escaping instead. But whether it's relying on others or going to authorities for help, I'm honestly clueless. Hell, even running away and ending up on the street will have the same issue. I have no awareness of the outside world, no connections, and with my parents' level of power, it's unlikely I could truly escape.'

This option wasn't actually too bad compared to the others. Running away from one's problems always felt more comfortable after all, but she only needed a quick moment to consider it before realising it was much worse than it first seemed.

'Running away just like that not only leaves me alone, but there's just way too many unknowns and potential threats. Assuming it'll be sunshine and rainbows is silly. For now, I guess I'll have to settle on option four. Wait. I might be able to stall getting married, or maybe I can make connections at the debutante… if I'm being honest with myself, in the worst case scenario I probably will run away, but I'd like to build a safety net before jumping off that cliff."

With a small nod in self satisfaction, she placed the little shrub down and playfully frowned at it.

"Nuh uh. Option four wasn't my way of putting off an important topic. It was just… a tactful retreat. Yeah, that's it. Totally not shirking my fears and anxieties to my future self, no sir.'

With a little *pat pat* on top of the tiny round bush, she gave it a wry grin before standing to get ready.

The ceremony was slated to begin in the early afternoon and being late wasn't an option. Besides, despite her anxieties she was far more excited to attain her magic than anything else. With bubbly giddiness mixed with butterflies in her stomach, Dahlia pranced about her room while grabbing the necessary materials.

The magic development ceremony didn't need to be performed in any single way. Some cultures completed it all with an academic-like rigour, treating every new person like a potential experiment. Other cultures treated the whole event as a joyous thing, using it as an excuse to enjoy lavish festivities.

In her case, her family was well acquainted with the abbot of the local Church of Magical Guidance. Though the faith wasn't unanimously celebrated in the region, it was respected enough for her parents to use it. If she had to guess though, the abbot was likely known to be reliable enough that he would keep a secret if anything 'shameful' might occur.

Knowing that even when she left the house, it was to go to a place fully within the palm of her parents' made Dahlia crestfallen.

'It's like I'm a bird flying out of my cage, only to find a second slightly larger cage outside. It's hardly anything to celebrate. If anything, it makes me wonder how far I need to fly until there aren't any more cages in sight.'

Pushing that thought aside, she refocused on her preparation. The church required ceremonial robes to be used, specially treated perfumes to be applied, and then multiple body salts and similar rubs applied as well. Thinking about it, Dahlia felt like she was turning herself into a still living mummy!

Looking back at her history and theology studies, she realised that that wasn't too far from the truth. Although mummies had preservatives added to the mix, the perfumes and rubs were used in both cases as a form of mana mediation. For the dead, it was supposed to prevent them from rising as undead, while for her awakening ceremony… there would be other effects.

All magic development ceremonies in all cultures have their pros and cons. It just so happened that the robes, perfumes, and rubs in this version of the ceremony happened to cause massive and potent hallucinations when first awakening one's mana. It was said that this had the effect of making a person closer to god and also allowed them to develop their magical abilities faster. The trade off was the hallucinations.

Though she was planning to verify it soon enough, the way she understood the ceremony was that the hallucinations would be directly related to her aspect. The more potent the aspect, the more vivid the hallucinations. Apparently there was one person who awakened the rare aspect of "war" and they had gone on a killing spree during their awakening due to the intense hallucinations they experienced.

Of course, her parents certainly didn't care about such trivial matters. They would look devout to their peers by going to the church, and if Dahlia suffered due to their decision then, well, what was the big deal? They actively tortured her, so what was one extra thing?

Dahlia just saw the one blessing being that the methods used would help speed up her magical development. Despite all of her fears, deep down she still loved magic theory. Getting to play with the real thing after waiting so long certainly couldn't be a bad thing.

With all these different thoughts swirling around in her head, she had finally put on the finishing touches, now wearing the robe that covered every inch of her body, obscuring even her eyes. She could barely see through the white fabric and between her limited vision and the length of extra fabric around her feet, she had to shuffle forward slowly making her look like an undead more than the funerary scent already might have implied. Feeling a little silly, she looked back at her tiny plant and gave a wave to it before closing the door and heading to the carriage.

The walk there was long, but after almost forty minutes she finally arrived without having tripped even once. She was quite proud of that fact and felt a little miffed when she couldn't share it with any of the servants when she arrived.

"The Baron and Baroness have already left ahead of time to socialise. We were simply told to deliver you at the rear door of the church and you can enter directly from there. Just stay still and wait once you enter."

This information came from the family butler. A middle aged man who, in all honesty, probably treated Dahlia better than most other servants. He never went against his masters' orders, but he never went beyond and intentionally did wrong to her. Seeing he was the one in charge, Dahlia gave him a small nod and smile; both actions were largely obscured by her current layers but oh well, it's the thought that counts.

From there on, things went smoothly. No one bothered Dahlia, but no one talked to her either. The carriage was fully enclosed so she couldn't even look at the landscape outside. The journey took an hour and a half, and after arriving and entering the church while practically blindfolded due to the robes, she ended up standing and waiting for an additional hour until a sound was finally heard.

"Ahem. We will start immediately as there's no value in delaying further. Your bloodline analysts can go about their duties after the initial part of my ritual is complete. The entire procedure on my end typically takes between twenty minutes and an hour depending on the type of aspect."

The voice sounded like that of a raspy old man. Poor guy likely had lost his voice from talking too long with the Baron and Baroness. Nonetheless, he took to his duties with a zealous fervour typically reserved for, well, zealots.

'Huh. The abbot being a zealot? Who would have guessed?'

Not having to move from the position she had taken earlier, Dahlia simply listened to the man and paid attention to the process. It seemed like he added his own additional censers to burn around her while also adding some type of magic circle on the ground.

Once she realised that he was inscribing something, Dahlia raised an eyebrow in surprise.

'Wait, this isn't just religious mumbo jumbo? He's inscribing… which means he used a constructive schema? But he also adds scent based components and I'm not sure if that counts as part of the sigil, or or a separate entity. Hmmmm… Probably a channelling combined with constructive schema then.'

It's not that it was important. She already settled on her personal schema a long time ago. But seeing others use their magic, each with their own unique schema, always made her want to pick them apart and figure out what made them tick. In this case, the complexity of adding scents to a typical sigil based schema genuinely impressed her.

More time passed and Dahlia happily stood there and theory crafted the entire time until finally the abbot approached her and had her hold onto a soft, crumbling crystal.

"Be gentle now. Alraune's quartz is very expensive and delicate. Once the first part of the ritual is complete it becomes worthless but until then, hold it like it's your child."

Dahlia squinted through the cloth to see the strange fist sized lump in her hands. It was light brown. Maybe a slight pink. She passed a finger over its surface and little gritty fragments rubbed off. She frowned.

'Comparing this to my child isn't very kind. My children are green, soft, and lovely *humph*!'

Despite her small grievance, she continued to gently hold the quartz, realising just how much trouble would be caused by damaging it. It was at this point that the old man's hoarse voice sounded once more, but this time there was a hint of ceremony in how he spoke.

"Let us begin."