"I shouldn't have said that," Tesric repeated to himself over and over all while rubbing his temples in frustration. His mind showing him the disaster over and over, "how could I have been so stupid."
Next to him, Madame Lestair sat calmy, sipping her tea entirely unfazed by his despair.
Outside, the bustling city of Vespera unfurled around them. The enchanted Lestair family carriage rolled smoothly down a road which was filled with other magical carriages. Above them was the reckless motion of people on brooms and carpets zipping past, some flying way too low and earning tickets from patrolling enforcers.
"You're beating yourself up," Madame Lestair said finally, setting her teacup down. "It's unbecoming."
"I know," Tesric sighed, leaning back in his seat. "It's just... all my life's work went into the trash, all because of a few words." He rubbed his eyes, the weight of the blunder pressing down on him.
His voice cracked a little bit as he stated, "The whole city thinks I'm an embarrassment. I'll never get another chance to present to the council again." He stared out of the window to watch broom riders darting through the air. "I suppose I should just give it up and continue my work in the Lestair Industries factories." He sighed deeply, his fingers idly tapping against the windowpane
Madame Lestair's gaze sharpened, her expression turning cold at hearing Tesric's resignation. "Do you want to know why I took you in from the orphanage all those years ago?" she asked, her tone cutting through his despair.
"What? You've already told me this a million times," Tesric said, his frustration evident in his voice. He wasn't normally this irritable, but the events of the council meeting were still fresh on his mind.
"It was because you saw my potential when I made those steam-powered toys for the other kids in the orphanage," he recounted, with a flat tone as he remembered Madame Lestair telling him the same story during various points in his life.
The Madame raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Ah, but that's what I told you," she replied smoothly. "Not the real reason."
She took another sip from her cup before she set it back on the table with a clink. She turned her full attention to Tesric, as she looked at him with an almost playful smile.
"If I took in every kid who showed promise," she said with a touch of dry humor, "I would have been swimming in hundreds of children by now."
Tesric, intrigued as he had never heard of this before, leaned forward, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "Then why was I special?"
The smile on her face softened into something more genuine. Without a word, she reached out and placed a finger on his chest, right above where the heart was. "Because of this," she answered, her voice steady but full of meaning and warmth. "What I saw that day was a boy who had heart. A boy who would do anything to achieve his dream, no matter how difficult it may be."
Her gaze held his with intensity. "Never lose that spark, Tesric," she added, her voice carrying the weight of years of experience and wisdom.
"I see... thank you... Mother," Tesric said, his voice soft as the two shared a rare moment of genuine connection as mother and son, not patron and beneficiary which was how most outsiders viewed their relationship as.
Madame Lestair gave him a loving smile, sensing the shift in his mood. "And besides, my investment in you has already paid off," she added, her tone lightening his mood already. "Our house is now powered by electricity, instead of those pesky mages who charge an ungodly amount of money."
Tesric chuckled at the Madame's rant about mages, his mood finally lifting. "I guess that's one way to look at it," he commented, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to allow himself to rest. The rhythmic motion of the carriage and the sound of the road outside gave him a brief moment of peace from the chaotic day.
After a while, the carriage finally arrived at the Lestair family mansion. As the carriage came to a halt, numerous servants hurried out to meet them, ready to move Tesric's machinery back into his workshop.
The Lestair mansion stood out starkly against the other similar estates in the area. Unlike the elegant and enchanted homes that relied on magical power to function, the Lestair estate relied on electricity, which made it look like a chaotic mess of wires and mechanical contraptions, stretching across the entire building.
To anyone unfamiliar with it, it might appear like a mess, especially when compared to the elegance of it's contemporaries. But Madame Lestair would always say that it was simply a matter of "functionality over beauty."
Tesric and Madame Lestair made their way to the front door of the mansion. As Tesric reached reach for the doorknob, the door suddenly swung open,revealing Elowen, the family Butler, standing there with a cake in hand.
"Happy 18th birthday, young master," Elowen said, her voice warm with fondness for Tesric.
Madame Lestair also leaned in towards his ear and whispered "Happy birthday".
Tesric flinched in surprise, his mind still preoccupied with the council meeting and unfortunate events of the day. He quickly recovered, shaking his head with a light laugh. "Isn't it tomorr—"
Before he could finish his words, Elowen raised a pocket watch (one that he created and gifted her.) in front of him. It showed that it was exactly one minute past midnight.
Tesric blinked in surprise."Oh," he muttered, realizing she was indeed correct. Even with all his mechanical genius, Tesric really didn't seem to be the brightest tool in the shed sometimes. Time had slipped away from him, and without even realizing, his birthday had already arrived.
Elowen smiled fondly, holding out the cake toward Tesric as she waited for him to blow out the candle. "It's your special day, young master. A new chapter begins."
As she placed the cake before him, her tone shifted to a inquisitive one. "I also hope your presentation to the council went well."
Tesric chuckled softly, remembering how not well it went. "Have I got a story to tell you," he said with a cheeky grin, letting the weight of his blunder lift from his shoulders through the use of humor. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and blew out the candle.
.
.
.
The woman in the green robes murmured softly to herself as she wrote down the words onto the paper: "You are formally invited to..."
She thought about what she had just witnessed during the council presentation, the invention of the young man and the power it could create. She had been captivated, and without hesitation, reached out to the principal of her school of employment, seeking permission to admit the young inventor into the school for mages.
"With love, Pinkrose Academy," she murmured to herself as she wrote the final words in the letter, her fingers glowing as she casted a sealing spell.
With a steady hand, she picked up the two letters on her desk and approached a large cage in the corner of the room, where a three-eyed eagle was perched.
"Deliver these letters to the exact coordinates," she said, her voice laced with some sort of command. The air around them seemed to crackle as the magic flowed between them.
The Eagle stepped forward and eagerly grabbed the letters in its talons, as though it was bound by her compulsion, ready to carry out its mission. The eagle took flight, soaring into the night sky through the open window, the letters clutched tightly in its claws, heading toward their destination with precision.
.
.
.
Tesric layed sprawling across his workbench, still dressed in his apron, goggles, and gloves with a mess of tools and wires around him. After his birthday celebration, the others had resigned to their bedrooms, but he instead opted for his workshop.
It wasn't unusual for Tesric to fall asleep here, it was after all where he felt most at peace, surrounded by his creations. His room which had a soft and plush bed and decorated with the grandiose luxury of the Lestair mansion, always felt more like a cage to him.
However, here in the midst of wires, gears, and half-built machinery is what truly felt like home. He didn't mind the fatigue nor the long hours of work that had left him drained. Exhaustion from his projects was something he loved because it meant progress. It meant that he was one step closer to his dream.
The warmth and joy of the birthday celebration had faded from his memory hours ago. And now, the hum of machines was a soft, comforting background to his peaceful slumber.
*clack* *clack*
Tesric blinks a few times, his groggy mind trying to focus as the soft clacking of what sounded like a bird's talons pulled him out of his sleep. His eyes look up towards the window where an eagle slips in a letter from the opening it created.
A shiver runs through him, half from the sudden intrusion and half from the surreal sight. The piece of parchment drifts lazily through the air toward him as if it was guided by some unseen force. His hand instinctively moves to grab it, but before he can, the letter moves erratically and lands softly on his face.
Tesric slowly pulls it off, still half-asleep. The paper feels almost otherworldly in his hands, and for a moment, he stares at the rose shaped pink seal holding the envelope shut.
His eyes widened as he realized that this was no ordinary letter. He immediately recognized it as a Pinkrose Academy letter. And who wouldn't? It was one of the most prestigious magical schools in the entire realm, known for producing some of the most powerful and influential mages in history. As such only those who show the greatest magical potential during their childhood years are invited to the academy.
"Why is this here?" Tesric muttered under his breath, confused and bewildered. The letter in front of him seem to glow pink faintly, it's rose shaped seal was unmistakable. But he just couldn't understand why it was delivered to him. After all, he wasn't fortunate enough to be born with the gift of magic. So why would Pinkrose even be sending a letter to someone like him?
He stared at the envelope for a moment longer before deciding to just open it. There had to be some sort of explanation, right? Carefully, he broke the seal and opened up the letter.
As soon as he did, a beautiful bouquet of pink roses immediately burst from the letter, causing Tesric to leap back in surprise. The flowers seem to grow right out of the paper, blooming right before his eyes, their sweet fragrance filling the air.
The plant's growth soon came to a stop, and floating golden letters began to appear on the surface of the bouquet. Each letter shimmered and hovered in mid air as they spelled out this message:
Dear Tesric Lestair.
On behalf of Pinkrose Academy, we are pleased to extend an invitation for you to join our esteemed institution for the upcoming academic year. One of our staff had the privilege of attending your presentation during the Vespera city council meeting and was deeply impressed by the ingenuity of your invention.
After some careful consideration, we believe that your skills and innovative technology would be an invaluable asset, not just to our academy but the whole world as well. We are eager to offer you the opportunity to study at Pinkrose, regardless of your lack of magic.
Should you choose to accept our invitation, please make your way to the Vespera Airship Bay in precisely 23 days, 2 hours, and 45 minutes. We hope to see your presence there.
With love, Pinkrose Academy.
After completing the letter, the bouquet's flowers suddenly wilted as its vibrant petals began dropping in an instant. Within seconds, the beautiful flowers turned a dull gray and crumbled to dust, flying off into the air.
Tesric sat in silence for a while, staring at the ashes that once was the bouquet. His mind thought about everything that had happened. At first, he had dismissed the idea of accepting the invitation. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense for him to accept it.
He could already hear the voices of his detractors in his head, the very same ones that had always put him down. You can't compete with magic.
But what if he could? What if his inventions could do the same things that magic could. If he could show the world what he was capable of, maybe then people would finally take him seriously.
The thought of it stirred something deep within him. He wasn't going to just be another inventor living in obscurity. No, he would make a name for himself and prove that his creations could stand up to magic, that they were just as powerful, if not, even stronger.
A new goal had sprouted in his mind: Become a Techno-Mage.