With a simple thought, I can conjure the furthest reaches of my imagination into reality. Raising my hand above my head, I concentrated on the air over me. My will commanded every fiber of my body to create. A perfect facsimile of a gryphon, formed from my pure mana, flapped its wings and danced around my head. Magic is so mundane.
I fluffed my hair over my shoulders and sat down at my desk. Letters from every bachelor in the region, precious gems and jewels, and a carving of the Quinton family occupied the surface. I threw all the annoyances into the fireplace and jumped onto my feather bed for an afternoon nap.
Before I could doze off, a knock rang on my chamber door.
"Madam Cora, the Marquis has requested your presence in the study." My butler announced. Upon opening the door, Greene stood ready to accompany me across the manor.
"Father should just attend to the business and let young ladies enjoy their rest." I said as we headed down the hall.
"I am sure this has to do with the ceremony. You must be ready for your inheritance."
I pouted, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Must we do this now, Greene? I was just about to have the most splendid dream."
He offered a sympathetic smile, though his eyes were resolute. "I'm afraid so, young madam."
We walked through the grand halls of the manor, my fingers trailing along the ornate woodwork. The Quinton family crest adorned the walls, a constant reminder of the legacy I was expected to uphold. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. It was a heavy burden, this legacy, and one I didn't particularly care for.
As we approached the study, the large oak doors loomed ahead, imposing and unyielding. Greene gave a respectful knock before opening them, revealing my father seated at his massive mahogany desk. The Marquis Quinton, with his stern expression and meticulously groomed appearance, radiated authority.
I complied, trying to hide my irritation. "Father, what is this about? You know how I value my afternoon rest."
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. "This is no time for frivolities, Cora. The ceremony is upon us, and there are matters to discuss."
"The inheritance," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You must be prepared to assume your responsibilities."
I rolled my eyes. "Responsibilities. You mean more tedious gatherings and dealing with suitors who have nothing better to do than send me baubles and falsehoods."
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cora, this is not just about social duties. The ceremony will open the gate to your future."
I looked up at him, my irritation fading into curiosity. "And what if I don't want this power, father? What if I want not for the world of magic?"
He stared at me aghast. "Perhaps your mother was right."
He looked off, a thousand-yard stare overtaking him. He riffled through the books lining the room, searching for one in particular.
"My daughter, my love..." He held up the book, hiding his face only leaving his greying hair visible. "You would renounce me? Renounce your mother? Renounce the life we paved for you? I cannot believe I raised such an ungrateful child. I am sorry, my Cora. Greene."
A moment later, the butler had entered the chamber. "Yes, my lord."
"Please show Cora to her room, and prepare the final wishes of the Marchioness."
"It will be done," Greene replied, bowing deeply.
As we walked back to my chamber, Greene remained silent, his usual comforting presence now a reminder of my father's harsh words. I glanced at him, hoping for some reassurance, but his face remained impassive.
"Greene," I said quietly, "do you think I am ungrateful?"
He paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No, young madam. You are simply... different. Your path may not align with your father's, but that does not make you ungrateful. It makes you unique."
"What was father talking about? The final wishes of the Marchioness?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion and frustration.
"You will see the challenge soon enough, young madam," Greene replied, his tone as calm and inscrutable as ever.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as Greene led me to my room. There was an air of finality in his words that I couldn't shake. Once inside, I heard the key turn in the lock behind me. I rushed to the door, banging my fists against it.
"Greene! Unlock the door! What is happening?" I shouted, but there was no response.
An hour passed in suffocating silence. My mind raced with a thousand questions. Suddenly, the door burst open with a violent crash. Several burly knights, wearing insignias I did not recognize, stormed into the room. Panic surged through me.
"Who are you? Where is Greene?" I demanded, my voice trembling but defiant.
The knights did not answer. Instead, they advanced toward me with cold, determined expressions. I raised my hand, summoning bolts of pure mana. My attacks stretched across the room, but the invaders moved with unnerving precision, dodging my attacks.
Their leader threw a vial onto the ground, which shattered and released a noxious gas. They held glowing cloths to their helmets. I felt dizzy, my vision swimming.
"No! Get away from me!" I lashed out, conjuring a shield to protect myself. The knights, however, were relentless. They moved around my constructs, their tactics well-coordinated and practiced. One knight grabbed my arm, his grip like iron, and another forced a damp cloth over my face.
I struggled, my magics flaring with desperation. The room filled with brilliant flashes of light and bursts of energy, but the gas was taking its toll. My strength waned, and my constructs began to dissolve.
"No! Let me go!" I screamed, my voice growing weaker. The knights' grips tightened painfully as they lifted me off the ground. I felt a sharp pain in my side and then a profound numbness as the world around me faded to black.
When I awoke, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the landscape. I was lying on the hard, splintered wood of a wagon bed, the rhythmic creak of its wheels the only sound. I tried to move, but my body felt heavy, and my head throbbed with pain. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that I was not alone. Several other young men and women lay around me, all dressed in rags and unconscious.
The wagon hit a bump, jostling us roughly. I winced, the pain bringing me fully awake. I glanced around, noting the chains that bound our wrists and ankles. The realization of my predicament hit me like a cold wave.
"Where am I?" I whispered to myself, fear creeping into my voice.
The knights from earlier rode alongside the wagon, their helmets now removed, revealing stern and watchful faces. I did not recognize any of them. Panic surged through me once more, but I forced myself to stay calm. I needed to think, to plan. But first, I needed to understand what was happening.