For their sake

The days blended into each other, each one a mosaic of various activities that filled the hours with purpose. The early morning sword practices became a familiar ritual, the clashing of steel against steel a rhythmic dance that pushed the boundaries of my skills. With each swing and parry, I could feel myself growing stronger, more confident in my abilities.

The magic lessons, while initially overwhelming, gradually evolved into a source of fascination. The intricate threads of energy that connected the world were a puzzle waiting to be unraveled, if only I had talent for anything other than reinforcement...

The etiquette lessons, under Mother's watchful eye, continued to be a challenge. The world of courtly manners and social expectations was a labyrinth of rules and customs that felt alien to me. But with each passing day, I found myself adapting, learning to navigate the complexities of formal gatherings with a grace that surprised even me.

And then there were the stolen moments of freedom, the times when I could escape the confines of the estate and explore the world beyond. Liam remained my steadfast companion, his easygoing nature a balm for the pressures of noble life. We would ride through the forests, the wind in our hair and the rush of freedom in our veins, leaving behind the worries of titles and expectations.

But there was a new addition to my routine that had me raising an eyebrow: politics. Father had deemed it necessary for me to understand the intricate web of alliances, rivalries, and power struggles that defined the noble world. So, in the quiet hours of the evening, he would regale me with tales of history, of kingdoms risen and fallen, of alliances forged and betrayed.

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself growing not only in skills but also in knowledge. The various parts of my education were pieces of a puzzle that came together to form a more complete picture of the world around me. The sword, the magic, the etiquette, the politics, put all together in the package that was me.

"Alright, enough already!" I've been overworking myself these past weeks, and I was starting to get annoyed. All that learning doesn't mean anything if I don't apply what I learn. I set out to master the art of magic. The stories of powerful mages and the possibilities of manipulating the arcane energies had always intrigued me. I spent hours poring over spellbooks, studying incantations, and practicing gestures in front of the mirror.

As I delved into the world of magic, I quickly discovered that it was both an art and a science. Each spell required precise movements, focused intent, and a deep connection to the mystical forces that flowed through the world.

But as I attempted to cast spells, I encountered difficulties. Fireballs fizzled out before they could even ignite, levitation spells sent objects crashing to the ground, and attempts at divination resulted in nothing but frustration. It was as if the magical currents resisted my efforts, rejecting my attempts to harness their power.

Frustration and doubt gnawed at me. Was I simply not cut out for magic? Did I lack the innate talent that was required to command the forces of the universe? I couldn't help but feel disheartened as I struggled to make progress.

One evening, as I sat in my room surrounded by scattered parchment and open spellbooks, I let out a frustrated sigh. My attempts at casting even the simplest of spells had left me feeling drained and defeated. The room seemed to shimmer with a faint magical aura, showing to anyone who enters how much of a failure I am.

As if sensing my turmoil, Father's familiar knock came at the door, and he entered. He surveyed the room, his eyes landing on the scattered materials and my downcast expression. "Seraphina," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "May I have a moment?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief at his presence. He took a seat across from me and regarded me with a knowing look.

"Magic is not solely about power or talent," he began, his words carrying the weight of his experience. "It's about understanding the connection between yourself and the world around you. It's about tapping into the energies that flow through everything and channeling them through your being."

I lowered my gaze, feeling a tinge of guilt. "I've been trying, Father. But nothing seems to work. I can't even manage a simple spell."

He reached out and placed a hand on mine, his touch reassuring. "Magic requires patience, Seraphina. Just as a seed needs time to sprout and bloom, your abilities will also develop with time and practice."

I looked up at him, my eyes searching his for answers. "But what if I'm not meant to be a mage? What if I'll never be able to wield magic like you?"

Father's smile was warm, filled with understanding. "There is no 'right' way to be a mage, Seraphina. Each person's path is unique. Some excel in certain aspects of magic while struggling with others. You just need to focus on finding your strengths and honing them." And just like that, he got up and left, as fast as he came, leaving me a little bewildered. He always knows when to come.

I looked around the room as I contemplated my father's words, a sense of clarity began to emerge. Perhaps I had been too focused on trying to fit the mold of what a mage should be, rather than embracing my own unique strengths. Strengthening might not be as flashy as conjuring fireballs or manipulating elements, but it had its own value and purpose.

With a newfound perspective, I set aside the spellbooks filled with complex incantations and turned my attention to training with my sword. I focused on honing my physical skills, practicing my stance, footwork, and strikes with renewed vigor.

I began to experiment with channeling my magical energy into my swordplay. With each swing, I infused the blade with a surge of strength, making my strikes more powerful and precise. The impact of my blows seemed to carry an extra force. Father even helped me develop specialized spells that enhanced my strength, speed, and endurance. With his guidance, I learned to infuse my sword strikes with bursts of energy, making them even more powerful.

My days were now filled with rigorous training, both in combat and in harnessing my strengthening magic. I practiced my swordplay with Liam, pushing myself to become faster, more agile, and more adept at anticipating my opponent's moves. And alongside my physical training, I delved into the study of strengthening magic with a renewed enthusiasm.

I began to experiment with different ways of channeling my magic. I focused on reinforcing my muscles, bones, and senses, enhancing my reflexes and durability. With each training session, I could feel the magic flowing through me, infusing me with a tangible sense of power.

Liam watched in amazement as my abilities evolved. "You're like a whirlwind on the battlefield, Sera," he remarked one day, wiping sweat from his brow after a particularly intense sparring session. "I can barely keep up with you."

I grinned, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "Maybe you should work on your own speed, then." Of course, I wouldn't use all my strength on poor little Liam. I'm just trying to take away the only thing he has over me: speed.

A few days later, I found myself immersed in a particularly dull book about geography. The pages were filled with detailed descriptions of landscapes, regions, and the political boundaries that divided the world. My fingers traced over the lines on the map as I struggled to stay focused on the text.

As I read about distant lands and far-off kingdoms, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to the events of the Moon Harvest Banquet. Alistair's words still echoed in my mind, his offer lingering like a half-forgotten melody. The idea of change and rebellion danced at the edges of my thoughts, and I couldn't deny the allure of the possibilities he had painted.

He is not completely wrong after all; King Daigo is not a tyrant, but he isn't a very good king either. First, he lets my father deal with all the dangers our kingdom is facing, and now he starts to throw a tantrum when my father gets enough political standing to be his equal... Is he an idiot? How could you let someone else steal your authority like that? Ha, I'm really glad I was forced to learn politics to know these things.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely registered the passage of time. The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm golden glow across the room. I sighed, setting the geography book aside and rubbing my temples. My mind felt heavy with information, a jumble of maps, political struggle, and Alistair's tempting words.

But change comes with a price. And Alistair's motives weren't entirely altruistic. His passion for reform was tinged with ambition, a desire for power so vicious that it made me want to squash him down before he had the chance to keep thinking. Nothing good comes from leaving someone like him alone, especially if he managed to unnerve the socially challenged me. And even if I were to consider joining him, the risks were immense—for both me and the kingdom

With a stretch, I stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the sprawling estate that surrounded our home. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds provided a soothing backdrop to my contemplation.

But... maybe it will be worthwhile for me to form my own group of individuals once I enter the academy: talented people who ignore titles and care for the well-being of others. The idea of forming my own group, a network of like-minded individuals who believed in the betterment of the kingdom, took root in my mind. It was a rebellion against the norms that had governed the nobility for so long—a chance to reshape the future using my position.

I envisioned a diverse group of individuals, each with their own unique talents and perspectives. The academy, once I entered it, would be the perfect place to find such allies. It would be a challenge to identify those who shared my vision and were willing to challenge the status quo, but It was worth it if I found even one person who cared for the peasants.

As for the king, that was a more complex matter. Alistair's words had planted a seed of doubt in my mind about his suitability as a ruler. While I didn't believe in overthrowing the monarchy without careful consideration, I also couldn't ignore the signs of discontent and mismanagement. If the time came when a decision needed to be made, I wanted to be prepared with a plan—a plan that would ensure a smooth transition of power and a better future for the kingdom.

As I settled into my chair, I glanced at the stack of books on my table. Geography, politics, magic—the subjects were varied, but they all held the key to shaping the future. With a smile, I picked up the next book in line and began to read, these thoughts wouldn't have been possible if I didn't do this much after all.

I started reading about geography again, since I focused my thoughts more in politics and didn't put my mind into learning geography. 'Hmm, three kingdoms in the whole continent. The others were destroyed for not receiving the gods' protection. We are the Brummedel Empire, at the forefront of all conflicts with the monsters that manage to cross over the weakened barrier. The Gridour Kingdom, always behind our empire, is always trying to catch up in a futile effort. Although they are more advanced in farming, maybe it's worth considering doing some business with them, if only King Daigon wasn't such a petty ruler.

The world beyond the empire's borders seemed both vast and mysterious, and the descriptions of the other kingdoms painted a picture of a complex and interconnected continent. Yet, the barriers that separated these lands were not only physical but also cultural and political.

The Brummedel Empire, my home, was described as a kingdom on the forefront of conflict with the encroaching monsters. It was a harsh reality, but one that had shaped our way of life and our priorities. The empire's struggles against the monsters were a constant presence, a reminder that our safety was fragile and that the world beyond our walls was filled with danger.

The mention of the Gridour Kingdom, the empire's rival, brought a mixture of emotions. Their efforts to catch up to our advancements were a clear indication of their desire for power and influence. It was tempting to dismiss them as mere competitors, but the idea of forming connections with them for mutual benefit lingered in the back of my mind. Something tells me that Alistair guy is from there.

The Rekhudal Kingdom intrigued me the most. Its neutrality and secrecy were like a shroud of mystery, and the fact that it was inhabited by demi-humans added to its enigmatic aura. Elves, dwarves, and beastkin—creatures from tales and legends—were said to reside there. I couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics of their society, their way of life, and the coexistence of different species within the kingdom's borders.

"Whew. The more I learn, the more I understand why my father's gaze always fills with animosity towards Daigo at the tiniest mention of that man's name. Debauchery, luxuries, arranged marriages, mismanagement... I bet even a commoner could do a better job at being a king, no prior education needed."

As I read about the mismanagement, the disregard for the well-being of the populace, and the extravagance of the court, my frustration grew. It was hard to reconcile the image of the empire's grandeur with the reality of its faults. And at the heart of it all was King Daigo, a ruler whose priorities seemed far removed from the needs of the people he was meant to protect.

The concept of arranged marriages, as mentioned in the book, grated against my sense of agency and individuality. The idea that one's fate could be determined by political alliances rather than personal choice was both archaic and infuriating.

My father's animosity towards King Daigo was no longer a mystery to me. It was a reaction born out of years of witnessing the consequences of the king's actions on both the empire and our family. I couldn't help but share in that resentment, my perspective now shaped by the knowledge I had gained. As I closed the book and gazed out the window at the moonlit night, a fire burned within me.