Despite being tall and slim, nothing and no one would be able to imagine the wide open space of the Tower. It was quite a trick; bigger on the inside. Though living there for almost half her life, the 9 year old Odile would never cease to be amazed at the sight of the tall halls and king-sized rooms. She for sure never wants to leave.
"Excuse me!— Coming through!" the mages side-stepped with haste as Odile ran out the halls with her bare feet and a basket filled with laundry on her hands. Somehow wet and drizzled with a distinct smell of garbage that even the lowest casters could tell was the scent of their worst nightmare— the Buga-bug.
What is a Buga-bug, you wonder? Well Odile learned the hard way on what a Buga-bug is. This insect was not entirely rare but refers to keep itself hidden inside the bark of trees and bushes on Springs and Summer; it resembled a beetle with a mixed color of magenta and neon for its shell and wings— it was not hard to see such an insect despite its wish to be hidden but people who come across a Buga-bug are completely thankful for such colors as they could keep their distance— Because like every insect and animal— Buga-bugs have their means of defense against predators.
Like a skunk, they would spray their spit, one spit is all they need and its game over.
A Buga-bug's spit is as small as a droplet from a leaf, the scent of sewer garbage mixed with manure and something else entirely that mages cannot explain would latch unto the person for days and lose the sense of their nose despite removing the clothes with the spit or scrubbing their skin thoroughly— it simply won't work.
Hence the reason of having a Buga-bug spit on your person would be the one thing a mage would not adventure on.
It had the mages either laugh at the young girl's antics or feel bad for being the target of the Tower's inescapable pranks.
Odile narrowed her eyes at the sight of the tower halls, "You won this round! but know that this is not over! Not!" she yells before going over a human-size painting of a family of three with a baby on the woman's arms.
Odile frowned at the sight of the smiling family painting, the mother even lifting a hand to cover her silent laugh knowing it was the Tower's way of showing her victory,
"Just you wait— I'm already plotting my revenge!" Odile states before placing the basket down beside her, patted her free hands before lifting it up to tickle the only member of the family that did not smile at her predicament, the baby.
Odile even followed more of her tickles with baby noises; her fingers moving towards the baby's side and the soles of her feet to get the baby to at least smile, if the baby ever had a voice it would be giggling right about now.
The human-sized family painting opened to reveal the Tower's laundry room. Odile sighed at the sight of it, out of every chore she could think of— doing laundry was the last of her favorite things to do.
The Tower may be grand and wide; the furniture used on the tower could rival a Duke's mansion but one thing was apparent— the tower has no maids or butlers present.
That notion was quite clear at the sight of books laying around the whole Tower— of course, it either floated or just lay dormant and open on the ground. Think of it as the very habitat of Mages— like researchers on the brink of their upbringing; stressed and haggard so proceed with caution.
Not like the Master could not afford helpers and servants, but in this society— the mages are at least the same level as the servants. None of them hold any title and if they even came from a prestigious family— that family is history.
So everybody living on the Tower— not like there's a lot of them, at most there are only 15 mages present and living on the tower with the Master, Odile included— are all active and doing everything by themselves.
They mostly group out the chores, designating each by 3 but on Odile's condition, she placed herself there and she rather fix it herself.
Seeing that she was done cleaning her robes, Odile glanced at the door quietly shut on the corner of the laundry room: Her next goal? drying her clothes.
The door was at least big and square, Odile is strong enough to open it alone however, one precise detail it has— it is entirely made out of straw,
Without another thought, Odile took her wet clothes back on the basket and opened the door.
"Agh!" As soon as she opened the straw door, Odile shut her eyes to protect them from the sand trying to catch a glimpse of her ice blue eyes. A temperature the sands aren't likely to experience for a long time.
"Master's robes— that's hot!"
The Tower's door stood tall in the middle of sand, the wind sharp like a swish of a knife with the dust seeping through every crevice and wide open sides it could blow upon, the harsh open winds tangled her already tangled curls with the two suns high on its peak, blazing rays of heat that could pop a corn in minutes and dry her chocolate hair in seconds. If Odile remembered it clearly, this was were Master Eric dried the fruits...
Odile placed her robes there in hopes to dry it quickly before going back inside the Tower. That should do it.
Closing the straw door, Odile stood in the middle of the laundry room; her hair dried and curled around with its other mates and popping out of her head like a lollipop and puffed like hay. Her robes and body covered with dust and sand that she could easily remove with a shake of her hand, patting her sides— Odile letting out a few coughs from the dust. "Now what should my revenge be?"
"Master, you called for me?" Odile opened the door to her Master's office— as usual with his room being on the top but the Tower was kind enough to open the trapdoor on the basement— since that was where she currently was— and led her quickly to the top. As expected, the Tower only is tame towards her Master— hmph!
Hearing her voice, Master Eric fixed his glasses perked on the bridge of his nose— the simple gesture was gentle and he even smiled towards Odile's way. "Right! Of course..."
The silence that followed was not out of place; Odile's curious gaze turned dead, turning back to face the door with a clenched hand on the brim of her teeth— biting it not to harshly but enough to muffle her cries. Oh, her Master!
"...You forgot, didn't you?" Odile closed her eyes tight, this was becoming an occurrence ever since she turned 9 and it was starting to worry not just Odile but the other mages too. He was becoming distracted more easily like a child and more forgetful like an Elder— The mages are worried that their Master might accidentally poison them one day with his cooking due to being easily withdrawn and he won't remember ever doing it to them and continue his work alone, while Odile was worried that her Master might actually be that old— If anyone can find a way to look young despite being so old in age, it would be her Master.
Her Master sweat dropped, sheepish at forgetting something so quickly— it wasn't his fault he was so into his research, that was just one of the ways of being a Mage on the brink of his study. He usually jest around his subordinates that they would soon come to this stage, just they wait.
"Actually I called you here in hopes of getting you to come with me to a certain Duchy." Her Master gestured to the chair unused chair topped with books and Odile went to sit there accordingly— the stock of papers helping her reach the same eye level as her Master.
Odile blinked, tilting her head to the side with her wild mane smoothly following her motion. A Dukedom? Why is Master asking me to go with him on a territory ruled by a Duke?
"Do you owe that certain Duke a debt?" Odile went straight to the point, following her gut.
Her Master froze, sucking in his lips like vacuum and avoided her gaze.
Odile flinched, no— no way!
"Are you... are you going to sell me?" Odile's voice cracked. Lowering her head to avoid gazing towards her Master, her fists clenching and uclenching on her lap to keep her self still. Her form slightly shivering— and it's not from the cold, the Tower has a charm against those.
Master Eric chuckled, lifting his hand to pat the girl's fluffy hair— doing well on getting them puffed, "I'm not gonna sell my best student..." The Master pulled away his hand making Odile lift her head with a quarter portion of her hair puffing up and practically perked like a hill.
"...You're not?" Of course he wouldn't! Master said I'm his best student— a genius! Well I'm not that good with controlling my spells but I am quite profound on potions!
With a wide smile, Odile was back on her feet; her gaze lingering around the room with a cautious look as if a spy was nearby to eavesdrop, with a wave of her hand she gestured for her Master to lean closer towards her. With a confused look, her Master did as Odile wanted,
"If the Tower put you up to this— Master, you must know that she started it first when she invited a mother bird to make a nest on my head and tied my hair on the bed post, it took Saroman hours before he just decided to cut them..." Odile hesitated before continuing, lifting both her hands to cover the side of her mouth, wanting her words only to go towards her Master. "...I also might have took the eggs in my closet because the mages want to cook them later after dinner..."
If she was about to fall— Odile was gonna take the others with her.
Master Eric froze on her words, slowly leaning back with wide eyes. "Oh my..." he muttered while Odile nodded like she understood the pain,
"Why are the others planning on cooking eggs after dinner? Wouldn't they be full?" The Master asked, genuinely concerned for the sudden enhancement on appetite. The Master always made sure every single one of the mages got their 5 meals a day, so he was highly concerned as to why they still wanted to eat.
Odile shrugged, biting her lip as to not tell the actual reason— ehem the awful food ehem— "Maybe because of the smidgen food portions?"
"Smidgen? My usual amount is too small for them?" the Master placed a hand on his chin, a deep thought lingering his head before brightening up with a smile and making his way to his cauldron. "Then I should give them tons of portions! Enough for two— no three refills!" with rhythm on his step, the Master started procuring ingredients for today's early dinner.
Odile felt shame but she shook it off after realizing what just happened earlier. "Master, why are we going to a Dukedom? and Whose Duchy are we going to?" Odile kicked her legs on her seat. Just a little more and she might reach the floor now, someday.
Master Eric spoke without turning to face the girl, making her oblivious to his expression. "I received a letter from a mage in the Serbian estate that the Duke Van Gould seems to have a gifted son in terms of witchcraft." Master Eric first picked up a bay leaf and placed it on the cauldron, igniting some kind of flare on his food before turning to Odile with his usual smile. "I am quite curious as to what it could mean,"
With cold chill on her spine, Odile this time shivered from her Master's observing eyes.