Under the guidance of Alaric and Pandora, the students toured the academy's castle, catching their first glimpse of its foundations and heritage.
This tour, in truth, was like opening the doors to an entirely new world.
Up until now, they had only known that magic was marvelous and powerful, it could summon fire and lightning, move objects at a distance, enlarge or shrink things, even force dragons into submission.
As astonishing as all that was, it merely told them that magic was a formidable power.
But for most children, while magic was impressive, so were the heroes of stories and the gods above.
They knew magic was wondrous, but they hadn't yet understood what made it wondrous in its essence.
The essence of magic was never about combat or destruction.
Magic was a craft, a discipline, a way of perceiving the world.
Everything within the castle was different.
This splendid castle vividly demonstrated to the students how magic could transform daily life.
For these apprentices, none older than thirteen or fourteen, the magical creations within, the way magic reshaped existence, allowed them at last to truly grasp some of the meaning contained within the word "magic."
That evening, a welcoming banquet was held in the great hall.
The students sat neatly at the long tables, chatting excitedly while their eyes followed the spirit maids who fluttered among them like butterflies, serving dishes they had never seen before, along with countless other magical marvels.
Above their heads, innumerable candles floated, glittering like stars against the pitch-black ceiling that resembled the night sky, forming constellations like a galactic river.
From the dais, an unseen orchestra played melodies of future ages: violins, cellos, saxophones, French horns, harps, pianos, guzheng, pipas, music animated by enchantment, performing without musicians, weaving a gentle tune that flowed like a stream through the hall, filling the castle with warmth and liveliness.
In the corridor beside the hall, dozens of beautiful women in wizard robes stood with a single man, gazing at the children below with nostalgia in their eyes.
"Well? Does it feel like the old days again?" The man, Alaric, turned to the young women at his side.
"Yes," one replied, a girl with thick brown hair flashing a mischievous smile.
"But none of them are like you back then. You were already making a move on me in the carriage…."
"I…" Alaric instantly denied the accusation. "I'm not! I didn't! Don't make things up!"
The denial came out in a rapid threefold burst.
But another voice joined in, this one from the only classically beautiful woman among them, her long black hair flowing like ink.
"Oh, don't deny it. I was there too. And just so you remember, I was one of your targets as well."
"Meow, meow, meow."
A cat's approving cries rose from by Alaric's feet.
"Shinku, why are you chiming in?" Alaric sighed, patting the head of the cat demon.
"Ahh, "
Everyone sighed together, lost in memories of those innocent, fumbling years.
Suddenly, a tall silver-haired girl with a bewitching allure spoke to Alaric: "Back then, our servants were house-elves. Why are the ones here all maids?"
"Because there are no house-elves here. So, I created these energy beings instead." Alaric frowned, puzzled by the obviousness of the question.
"No, that's not the point," the girl pressed. "My question is: if you're creating energy beings, why maids? Why not just recreate house-elves?"
"House-elves are ugly," Alaric said with a wry smile. "Maids are easier on the eyes, don't you think?"
"That may be true, but it's not that simple, is it?" Her voice rose.
"Each maid has a beautiful face, yet each one looks different, even their hair comes in every color imaginable.
You didn't design them this way just to satisfy some… unsavory tastes, did you?"
At her words, every girl's eyes turned sharply on Alaric.
Suddenly, he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him.
"There's no such thing!" Alaric protested quickly under their piercing stares.
"I only made them distinct to avoid them looking identical. If they all had the same face, it would be terrifying, too obvious they weren't real.
I just wanted them closer to humans, that's all."
"Really?" The girls remained suspicious, though somewhat swayed.
"Of course!" Alaric seized the opening. "After all, I already have you with me. Why would I need to make maids for that? Wouldn't that be pointless?"
"You think we'll believe that?" another silver-haired girl, shorter than the first, pouted.
"Even with us, you still went after Daenerys in that other world. When it comes to women, you have zero credibility."
Though her words stung, the girls' suspicion about the maids began to fade.
Just as Alaric breathed a sigh of relief, another voice slid into his ear, soft, mischievous.
The brown-haired girl again.
"Even if you didn't have ulterior motives for most of the maids, the head maid is an exception, isn't she?"
"I…"
Alaric tried to reply, but she cut him off.
"Don't bother denying it.
Pandora already told us, you shed your blood to make her, sacrificed a hundred years of your own life force, prepared a maid uniform with auto-repair enchantments, throwing knives with replication spells, even a pocket watch with time-stop.
None of your other creations got that much care."
"That's, "
Again, his explanation was smothered.
"And why do the other maids only have numbers, while she alone has a name?"
The woman's voice joined in, calm and lilting.
"Sakuya Izayoi. 'Izayoi', the night after the full moon. 'Sakuya', the flower that blooms at night, and also the name of a goddess of beauty.
Such a beautiful name. Clearly, you hold very different expectations for her."
Before Alaric could even open his mouth, a cool, clear voice sounded, and a graceful figure appeared before him, her presence betraying her mastery of time-stop.
"So that is how Master regards Sakuya? I see. Then know this, Master: from body to soul, Sakuya belongs to you.
Whatever command you give, I will obey. No… to serve you is not a duty, but Sakuya's honor."
The maid's forthright declaration, coupled with the contemptuous, scumbag-judging stares from the girls around him, made Alaric bury his face in his hands.
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