"W-What's going on!?"
Johan, now fully dressed for the outdoors, let out a loud cry in the front hall.
He kept darting his eyes between me and the person standing at the entrance—a petite girl with golden hair that framed a face so flawless she resembled a doll.
"Good day, Johan," she said, her voice smooth and refined as she curtsied gracefully, lifting the hem of her skirt just enough to display impeccable manners. "I happened to be nearby on an errand and thought it polite to stop by for a visit. I hope I'm not intruding."
"N-No! It's not that you're a bother or anything, but…"
Even as he stammered out a denial, his face betrayed his panic.
The girl, undeterred, turned her attention to me. Her rosy lips curved ever so slightly. "Ronnie, it's a pleasure to see you as well."
"Ah, Lady Fiolette, what an honor. Johan is beside himself with joy at your arrival," I said, flashing a composed smile.
"Oh my, how delightful to hear." She chuckled softly, the picture of elegance.
Johan's incredulous stare burned into me as he grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
(Why would you say that!? I was trying to find a way to politely send her away!)
(Don't be ridiculous. The daughter of the Marquis Glastark has graced us with her presence. We can hardly turn her away without so much as offering tea.)
(But we were about to go to the hill for a walk!)
(Walks can wait. This is a matter of decorum. If you snub her, it'll affect our family's relations with hers.)
(I don't care about that!)
(You should. She's your fiancée.)
(Grrr…)
Lady Fiolette Glastark, a vision of beauty and refinement, was the eldest daughter of the Marquis Glastark, whose territory bordered ours. At fifteen, three years Johan's senior, she was both striking and formidable—a true prodigy.
People whispered that the two of them were the perfect match, and last year their engagement had been formally arranged by our parents.
While Johan was the embodiment of a child genius, excelling in magic, academics, and physical prowess, Fiolette was his equal in every way. Her magical skills were breathtaking, her etiquette flawless, and her popularity among her people unmatched.
As for me? There was no such engagement in my future. No need to pity me—I'm doing the world a favor.
It was clear that turning her away at the door was not an option.
"Is something wrong?" Fiolette asked, tilting her head slightly. "If this is a bad time, I can always come back another day…"
"Not at all! Please, stay for lunch. Isn't that right, Johan?" I said, my tone firm.
Her smile brightened. "How lovely! Johan, is that alright with you?"
"O-Of course…"
"Well then, show her to the parlor," I prompted.
"Fine…" Johan muttered, clearly defeated. "Fiolette, follow me this way."
"Thank you," she said, glancing at me as she moved toward Johan. "Ronnie, are you going somewhere?"
"Yes, I have an errand to attend to. I wouldn't want to intrude on your meal together," I replied smoothly.
"Hey, that's not fair!" Johan protested, glaring at me.
I silenced him with a pointed look.
"It's no trouble at all," Fiolette replied with a polite smile. "But if you must go, I hope we can speak again before I leave."
"Of course. Enjoy your lunch," I said with a bow before slipping past them and out the door.
As I reached the threshold, Fiolette called out to me one last time.
"Ronnie…"
I turned, startled by the quiet intensity in her voice.
"Have you changed recently? You seem… different," she said, her piercing gaze lingering on me.
For a moment, I froze.
"Do I?" I said, feigning ignorance.
"Yes," she said softly. "You never used to speak so openly. Forgive me if I've said too much."
"No need to apologize."
Her observation rattled me more than I cared to admit. In just a few brief exchanges, she had picked up on something my family hadn't noticed in two weeks.
Without another word, I left the house, my mind churning.
The Glastark family carriage was parked by the gate as I passed it on my way out.
"Ronnie," a voice called behind me.
I turned to see Jail, the family butler, standing on the pathway.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his tone as flat as ever.
"To the hill, to visit the shrine," I replied.
"I see."
Jail offered no further comment and walked away without so much as a farewell.
Odd. He had never cared about where I went before. But I decided not to dwell on it and continued on my way.
The shrine was a thirty-minute walk from the estate, up a gentle slope that led through a shaded forest path. The hill overlooked both the Narazario manor and the nearby town, with lush greenery swaying in the spring breeze.
The scenery was breathtaking.
I found myself appreciating it in a way I hadn't before. Compared to the gray, lifeless concrete of my previous world, the natural beauty here felt almost surreal.
The shrine itself was simple—a small hollow carved into a massive boulder. It resembled a tiny cave more than a place of worship, its entrance barely wide enough for a person to pass through.
Inside, a smooth pedestal held a brilliant blue crystal, polished to perfection.
Despite being exposed to the elements, the crystal remained pristine, free of dirt or blemishes.
"Another mystery," I murmured. "Or, as everyone else would say, proof of the spirit's divine grace."
In this world, spirits were central to life and belief. They were said to bestow magic upon humans, bring light to the world, and sustain all of existence.
But I wasn't interested in faith. I was here to study.
I knelt before the crystal, its size comparable to a human head. Its beauty was almost hypnotic, and I found myself wondering how much it would fetch in my old world's currency.
As I leaned closer, I noticed something unusual within the crystal—a faint movement.
At first, I thought it was an imperfection, tiny bubbles trapped within the stone. But these "bubbles" were moving, swirling in deliberate, circular patterns.
"That's not natural…"
I reached out and lifted the crystal from its pedestal, curiosity overriding caution.
The swirling bubbles continued their dance, defying gravity. Was this… magic?
My thoughts raced as I recalled Johan's water magic.
When he conjured water, it hovered above his hand, spinning in a spherical shape. Could this crystal operate on the same principle?
Theories flooded my mind. Perhaps magic created a localized zero-gravity field, allowing water to float and rotate. If so, could it also apply to other forms of magic?
I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't notice the faint voice until it spoke again.
"What are you muttering about?"
"Eh?"
I froze.
Was someone here?
I turned sharply, scanning the small shrine. There was no one.
"Relax. You're scaring me, talking to yourself like that."
The voice came again, soft but unmistakable.
I looked around once more, my pulse quickening. Then my eyes landed on it.
A small, snake-like creature, unlike anything I had ever seen, floated in the air before me, swaying lazily as it stared back.