1.16 The Stupendous Gift

Isha sat before a mirror in the room of her mother's estate, an exact replica of the one in her father's estate, constructed during a time when her parents had been on civil terms.

A handmaiden diligently brushed her honey-coloured hair, skilfully weaving it into multiple intricate braids laced with ribbons and gemstones.

"You are dismissed," Isha said, when the woman was done with her hair. She could do other chores herself. It was only her hair that needed a master's attention. She never could set the blasted things right. She allowed her handmaid to do her hair and nothing else. The thought of letting them do all her work made her feel like an infant.

Isha eyed her array of jewelleries for a long while before shaking her head. From today onwards she was to be an apprentice under a great mage, that meant jewelleries could no longer be part of life. 

She got out of her current gown and struggled into her robes, specifically designed for battle mages. It was dark blue with intricate embroidery of gold. It had no capes, unlike [Mages] of most specialisations, [Battle-Mages] and [War-Mages] didn't wear capes for practicality and freedom of movement on the battlefield. 

She had had her lady's maid pack several of those robes for her. The robes were enchanted for durability and basic defence, both physical and magical in nature. Isha suspected her master would appreciate such clothes.

According to her father, her master was a [Great-Mage of Battles], alumni of Black Coral Academy–apparently she respected practicality.

If one wanted to be a member of great academies, one had to apprentice under a [Great-Mage] affiliated with the academy in question for at least four months.

"What will she be like, I wonder," she mused aloud.

Isha let out a resigned sigh. "Well, there is no point thinking about it. I'll meet her soon enough."

Her heart pounded at the prospect. Finally she would be out of this house seething with suffocating air, and began the pursuit of magic. Though not for the reasons her mother expected. 

No, I will not follow in her footsteps. I will not become like her, cold and emotionless–no different from the demons she fights in the north. 

Her gaze drifted up to the painting on the wall, capturing a moment frozen in time with her brother. They stood side by side, caught in laughter over a joke at her mother's expense she no longer remembered. Isham. Brother, I'll become a mage you can be proud of.

The thought of her brother still brought tears to the eyes. Even after two months of his death, the pain threatened to squeeze her heart, crush her spirit–it felt like a physical blow that left her gasping for breath. She reached for the warm tea to calm her nerves. Isha would have preferred spiced wine to dull the edges of her grief, but she wasn't allowed it. 

How much longer before she stopped feeling the pain of his loss? Never, she hoped. Isha didn't want to forget her brother, and the pain was part of it no matter how dreadful it was. "I'll make you proud, I promise."

A knock came at a door. Isha blinked. "What? Already, I thought it would still take her hours yet."

Oh, don't be ridiculous Isha, it isn't your master. It has to be someone else. You are just nervous.

Isha let out a deep breath. "Come in."

It was Adolf, her personal attendant. He was also a [Rogue] responsible for her life. He was clothed in a black suit with a white linen shirt underneath. "Young mistress, your father and mother have left you a gift for your apprenticeship. With your permission, I'll have servants bring it in."

Isha raised an eyebrow, sipping on her tea. "My parents left me gifts? Together?"

She doubted that. Their divorce had already passed, and they hated each other's guts.

"You mistake me, Young Mistress. Your parents do not know of each other's gift for you. They both have left the same gift to you and they both think they are the only one."

Now, that was interesting, but for now she had a different question. "Have you heard from my mother?"

Adolf nodded. "That I have."

"Will she be here to see me off?" 

This time, he shook his head. "I am afraid she won't make it, young mistress."

For a moment, Isha thought of hurling the tea cup and watch it explode into shards. But, a young lady shouldn't act like that. Besides, it was needless work for maids. Instead, she walked over to the sitting area, sat the teacup on the table, and slumped onto the couch.

Adolf followed, standing next to her.

"Of course, what did I expect?" she said, staring up at the ceiling. "She doesn't understand things like this."

"Please, don't be hard on your mother. She is busy defending the realm from the demons."

Isha snorted. "There are thousands of Archmages in the Empire. She could have taken a single day leave for her daughter's apprenticeship day, had she wanted to."

"Yes, there are thousands of Archmages in the empire but few of them are War-Mages. And even among them, most have stagnated for too long–incapable of advancing further in their class. Your mother, however, is already on the verge of next advancement. She is far more valuable to the empire than you or anyone else thinks."

"That doesn't excuse her absence. She is never there. Never!"

Adolf gave her a knowing glance. Insufferable man. "I don't wish to be presumptuous, Young Mistress, but are we still talking about her absence today and not your brother's funeral? You have to understand, your mother-"

"Adolf," she said, giving him a death glare. "One more word to defend my mother and I'll kick you in the nuts."

Adolf closed his mouth.

"Good, let's not depress me further with the talk of my mother… On that note, what is this gift you were talking about?"

Adolf's eyes glinted. That piqued her interest further–it meant the gift was something good.

Adolf clapped his hands, and the servants came in carrying two chest boxes. They retreated with a bow as soon as they settled the boxes before her.

"Behold," Adolf said, opening the chest with a flourish. 

Blinding light spilled out of the two boxes, casting the room into the colour of blood. Isha shaded her eyes with her hand. It took some time for her eyes to adjust to the light. 

An expression of unrestrained awe filled Adolf's eyes. She had never before seen him like this–and for good reason. Same awe filled her when her gaze settled on the contents.

By the Great Naiker, am I dreaming?

Isha was a scion of middle-class nobility. Few things ever surprised her. Her jaw dropped. Caches of advanced-grade Coral Stones filled both chests. There had to be over a thousand of them. It was a fortune, even for her family. A fortune that even an upper-class nobility wouldn't spend lightly. 

And it was hers? It was madness. Her head spun. She pinched herself, yet, her surroundings didn't change.

She grabbed Adolf and shook him as if there was no tomorrow. "Adolf, please tell me this isn't a dream. Adolf?"

"I… I…," he stammered, breathless. "I knew what it was, but… but I didn't expect this… Young Mistress, I…"

Froth filled his mouth, and he keeled over, eyes rolling behind his head.

Naiker's blood, but that's a first. It was a wonder she hadn't fainted. Madness!