The only thing left was a map.
It depicted a large, singular landmass surrounded by vast oceans. The land was divided into three distinct countries: Lurkis, Otous, and Eldira.
From the stories my father used to read to me, Lurkis was inhabited by superior beings, often portrayed as evil due to their relentless warfare against Otous.
Otous was the human kingdom, the one I called home, while Eldira belonged to the elves.
Apart from these three nations, the map was otherwise useless. I assumed it was meant to serve as a guide for the rest of the book, but with so many pages torn out, there wasn't much I could piece together. So, I decided to return it to its rightful place on the shelf.
Now that I had read through it, I understood why Regina was so intent on keeping it hidden. It wasn't just any book. It was a glimpse into the future, filled with magical innovations that had yet to be discovered.
So why doesn't she just use the contents to make a profit? I wondered. From a business perspective, her actions made no sense. She wouldn't even have to work as a maid anymore.
Over the next few months, I watched her closely. I began noticing the small details: the way her face twisted in disdain when Ansel came home and kissed Cinthia, or how her convincing smile would leave the moment Cilia left the room.
I didn't know what her endgame was, but I knew she was dangerous. I wanted her as far away from my family as possible.
Convincing my parents that she was a threat seemed impossible. She had woven herself deep into their trust.
My next option was to get her fired. It was a daunting task, but I was determined to try.
For three long years, I devised schemes to get her dismissed. I broke vases, tore clothing, and even orchestrated situations in which she would take the blame. Yet, every time I thought I had her cornered, she slipped through, managing to talk my mother out of facing any consequences.
It was only a matter of time before she caught on, and when she did, she confronted me.
"Hey, can I ask what you're up to?" Her face was still, showing no emotion.
"What do you mean?" I replied, feigning ignorance.
"Well, you've been attempting to get me in trouble for a while now. Is there a reason for that?" she asked calmly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied, trying to gaslight her.
Without another word, she turned and left my room, her expression unchanged. I could tell she had something planned, but I had no way of knowing what.
As time passed, the constant failures began to wear me down. I couldn't get her fired, and now she knew I was plotting against her. The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. There was no outwitting her. She was playing a long game, one I couldn't fully comprehend yet, but I knew where it was heading. The contempt she held for Ansel, Cinthia, and Cilia was unmistakable. Sooner or later, she would do something irreversible. My parents were completely blind to her true nature, and I had exhausted most of my options.
One idea had repeatedly crossed my mind, but I always dismissed it. However, it now seemed like the only option left.
There is no other way. After all, as the saying goes, "an eye for an eye."
I had to kill her.
The concept of killing another living human had always confused me. Why was it such a big deal if the other person deserved it? The entire notion of a justice system was to bring retribution to the wronged, so why take that right of retribution out of the hands of the wronged and place it into the government's hands?
I have every right to kill Regina, as only then would I be reimbursed for the pain I've suffered myself.
But how am I supposed to do it? I had no idea how to kill someone, let alone someone as cunning as her. Poison would be too risky, and she'd probably see it coming. I could use magic, but she had me completely outmatched. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how weak I was. If I was to stand any chance against her, I needed to know how to fight. I needed to become stronger, and that's when it hit me.
"Father, could you teach me how to fight?" I could get stronger by asking Ansel to teach me.
"Fight? You're only six. You'll learn when you get to school," he replied, brushing off my request.
"But I want to learn now," I insisted. Under normal circumstances, I would've given up after his first refusal, but this wasn't just something I wanted—it was something I needed.
"Is this because of those stories I've been reading you? I suppose it is my fault then, isn't it?" he said with a chuckle.
Sensing an opportunity, I pressed further. "Yes! I want to be like the hero in the story, the one who defeated the Eternal Goddess!" It sounded a bit childish, but I had no choice.
"Alright, son. I'll wake you up early tomorrow, so don't chicken out on me," he finally gave in.
The next morning, I woke up to a familiar, yet unpleasant sensation: heavy lungs and a cold sweat.
"Dad, what are you doing?!" I yelled, coughing.
"Morning, champ! Finally awake?" He grinned down at me, as if nearly drowning his son with a bucket of water was perfectly normal.
"Next time, could you wake me up like a normal person?" I got up, my face probably red with anger.
"I tried, but you wouldn't budge!" He said, laughing.
"Fine, let's just get started," I muttered. I wasn't going to let this ruin my mood. After all, it was my first day of training.
We walked outside and around to the back of the house, where there was enough space for us to practice without disturbing the neighbors.
The area was bleak, a plain of dry dirt with scattered dead leaves. It was clear my parents only cared about appearances from the front.
"Here, take this." He handed me a wooden sword and walked a few meters away to create some distance.
"Alright, kid, come at me!"
I charged at him with all my strength, swinging wide for his ribs.
He easily blocked it, twisting his sword around mine and flicking it upwards, sending my weapon flying from my hands, bruising one of my fingers in the process.
"Ow! Aren't you supposed to go easy on me?" I whined, hoping for a bit of sympathy.
"This is the best way to teach you," he replied. The tone in his voice made it clear he wasn't thrilled about waking up so early.
"Come on! Again!" he commanded.
This time I tried a different approach, lowering the sword to my hips and aiming for an upward thrust. Ansel was much taller, so I thought I could use that to my advantage.
But once again, I failed. No matter how hard I tried, he blocked every attack and countered effortlessly.
We continued like this for a while, but to my frustration, I wasn't improving. I wasn't lacking in ideas or corrections, I just couldn't execute them.
"Son, the sword is too heavy for you. You'll have to wait until you can handle it properly," he said, his face showing a hint of disappointment.
The sword, I thought. If the sword's the problem, then…
"Why don't I try a different weapon?" I suggested.
"It's a good idea, but all I have are wooden swords," he replied.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
I raised my hands to eye level, closed my eyes, and visualized two earth daggers forming in each of my palms.
"Will this work?"