ALTIUS CAELUM
The pond's rippled surface was both a perfect mirror for the dense clouds that blocked out the sun, and, perhaps, a perfect advisor, stubbornly refusing to react to my scowl.
I crouched at the edge, holding a pebble in my left palm, and my right cheek cupped in the other.
"Hah."
Esil's words echoed against my thoughts, almost as loud as the bell that tolled at midnight. Maybe even louder.
'Lady Altius' issues lie within her limited view of magic and the restrictions she's placed upon herself: Her refusal to utilize water magic, as well as her single-minded goal to acquire her father's renowned sunfire divergent art, ignoring her own potential strengths.'
"Well, that's easy for you to say! You're not the one who has to deal with having a…"
The words extinguished faster than I could produce them. Sighing, I tossed the pebble across the serene pond, watching it skip once before sinking. "This sucks…"
There's no point in getting mad at Esil about it. She's not the one at fault here…
A sigh escaped me once more, but I found other things to occupy myself.
A flick of my wrist—and a brief expenditure of mana—and flames were dancing to life in the palm of my hand.
Fire magic, to me, was like a beacon. A symbol of hope.
One of warmth, light, and comfort.
And Father's sunfire was the brightest beacon of them all. His bright flames, protective figure, and warm personality drew people to him—enamoring them.
At the manor, I would occasionally meet those who were close to him and important to the inner workings of the Verlice kingdom. And each of these people all possessed a spark of light to them, one that naturally made you want to be around them.
Somewhere along the way of all the stories Father and his company would tell me about their times spent adventuring and all of the experiences they went through, I developed an interest in this life of my own.
So, when I was told that I was to spend my life in service of and protecting the very prince of the kingdom itself, I was slightly downtrodden, but thinking about it made me excited. To finally embark on an adventure of my own, one with someone else to accompany, nonetheless. You could say my goals were selfish, I suppose… But still.
The prospect of experiencing my own adventures, and the idea of becoming someone who could also draw people towards themselves were things at the forefront of my mind, every drawing second of the day.
And what better way to do that than to wield flames as bright as the sun itself?
I closed my palm and snuffed it out.
Limiting my potential…
My eyes fell on the pond, and there were plenty seconds of silence and contemplation before I acted.
Fingers splayed tentatively, I sucked in a breath and reached for the cool threads of mana running beneath the pond's surface. A thin ribbon of water rose, trembling, before it snapped and splattered across my boots.
Grimacing, I wiped away the droplets.
Water magic… Why did I have to awaken to this of all things?
A memory surfaced, unbidden: Her expression, simultaneously warm and cool—focused, yet anticipatory—as she weaved water into small, almost-humanoid shapes, and our laughter echoing across the yard.
A tinge of something bitter swelled within me, and I shook it away, jaw tight. I wasn't Her. I didn't want to be, and I'd never be. For better or worse.
Flames exploded in my palm, with a bit more intensity than I had expected, surprising even myself, and I jumped, flicking them at the pond.
The water reacted, hissing as the steam dissipated just as fast as it was conjured.
Something about the encounter—flame struggling against the water in a way that seemed so… futile—stirred something irksome within me.
That feeling mixed with the constant ringing of Esil's words all formed some sort of tapestry of personally challenging ideas. And even if I did, for some reason, try learning it, who would I ask to teach me?
…Sera? No.
I recoiled even from the thought. The memory of him shaping water with the same practiced ease he did everything else burned bright in my mind.
There was something shameful— embarrassing, probably—about that. It's already bad enough to be getting occasional lessons from someone younger than me, considering I was supposed to be the one protecting him. Even if I couldn't now, that was the very foundation of our relationship.
I couldn't have him looking down on me.
"…I won't ask for his help. Not from him, or anyone else, for that matter."
With a grunt, I tried again, coaxing a thin stream upwards. I tried to shape it, to twist it into a variety of different conjunctures. For some, it held, others not so much, snapping each time.
With the final grunt of effort resulting in the stream collapsing back into the pond, sending eerily serene ripples throughout it, I released all intentions of attempting any further than this.
Though, my gaze held, for a moment or two, caught off guard by the ease at which the last stream was coaxed. Almost as if…
The thought drifted somewhere in the back of my mind and I ignored it.
Eventually, I stood, releasing the tension in my body.
By the time I was done, the sky was streaked with gold and red, my boots were damp, my fingers tingled with an odd sensation, and my thoughts were a mix of feelings; resentment, and something else I couldn't quite name.
I sighed, thinking that maybe someday I'd be able to figure out what to do with this part of myself.
Just maybe.
"…This really sucks."