The grand capital of Ashavel unfolded like a tapestry before them, a city of imposing towers and winding streets, where the splendor of the nobility coexisted uneasily with the grit of common life. The afternoon sun bathed the city in a golden glow, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The towering spires of cathedrals reached towards the heavens, their intricate carvings telling stories of ancient glory and divine favor. Below, the streets bustled with activity—merchants hawked their wares, children darted between crowds, and the hum of daily life filled the air.
Kael sat in the carriage, his gaze wandering over the sights of Ashavel as they made their way through the busy streets. The capital was nothing like the peaceful village they had passed through, or even the isolated grandeur of the Everglade estate. Here, everything was magnified—louder, busier, and more vibrant. The smells of roasting meat, freshly baked bread, and the occasional whiff of refuse mingled in the air, a reminder that not everything in the city was as polished as its towering facades suggested.
After the entourage had entered the capital, they made their way to a grand estate in the heart of the noble district, where they would be staying during their time in the city. The estate was a sprawling mansion of white stone and marble, surrounded by manicured gardens and high walls that shielded it from the noise of the streets beyond. As they pulled up to the gates, a line of servants stood ready to greet them, their heads bowed respectfully as Elowen's carriage rolled to a stop.
Kael got off his horse, his eyes scanning the estate as the servants hurried to unload the luggage and escort the entourage inside. The air here was different—calmer, more refined, but also carrying a weight of expectation. This was the center of power, where deals were made, and alliances forged. Even as a guardian, Kael felt the pressure of the place, as though the very stones of the mansion held the secrets of those who had come before.
Elowen, ever poised and composed, exited her carriage with the grace of someone born to command. She gave brief instructions to the head servant, who responded with a crisp nod before leading the way inside. The entourage followed, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floors as they were shown to their quarters.
The interior of the mansion was as opulent as the exterior suggested. High ceilings adorned with frescoes, crystal chandeliers that sparkled in the light, and walls lined with rich tapestries depicting the history of the Everglade family. It was a place meant to impress, to remind all who entered the power and influence of its occupants.
Once their accommodations were secured and the servants had been dismissed, Elowen wasted no time in making her next move. She called for her personal maid and gave a few brief orders before dismissing her as well. Then, without a word to the others, she slipped away, her steps as silent as a shadow.
Elowen made her way back outside to her carriage, where a new driver awaited—an older man, grizzled and weathered, with the look of someone who knew the city like the back of his hand. She handed him a slip of paper, the address written in neat, precise handwriting. The driver took it without a word, nodding his understanding before climbing onto the driver's bench and urging the horses into motion.
The carriage wound its way through the capital, moving from the clean, well-maintained streets of the noble district to the crowded and chaotic lanes of the commoner quarter. Here, the buildings were closer together, their walls streaked with grime and age. The streets were narrower, lined with market stalls and shops where vendors shouted to passersby, their voices competing to be heard over the clamor. The smells were sharper, too—cooking fires mixed with the stench of refuse and sweat, the air thick with the scent of humanity.
Elowen sat rigidly in her seat, her face a mask of calm as she observed the world outside her carriage window. She was a striking figure, her fair skin and elegant attire standing in stark contrast to the rough surroundings. Her presence did not go unnoticed—heads turned as the carriage passed, eyes lingering on the noblewoman who dared to venture into their midst alone. Yet there was something about the way she held herself, the quiet confidence in her bearing, that deterred any would-be opportunists from approaching.
The carriage finally came to a stop in front of a shabby inn, its wooden sign creaking in the breeze. The building was old, its walls weathered and its windows covered in a thin layer of grime. It was a place where secrets were whispered and deals were made in the dark, a far cry from the luxury of the noble district. But Elowen didn't hesitate. She stepped out of the carriage, her head held high, and walked straight towards the entrance.
Inside, the inn was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cheap ale and smoke. A few patrons sat at scattered tables, their eyes flicking towards Elowen as she entered, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected visitor. But no one dared to approach her as she made her way to the bar, her steps measured and deliberate.
The bartender, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, looked up as she approached, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. Elowen met his gaze with cool indifference, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small coin pouch. She placed it on the counter, the sound of clinking coins catching the bartender's attention.
"I'm looking for someone," she said, her voice soft but firm. "A woman. Blonde, late-teen. Named Rebecca, she is meant to be here."
The bartender's gaze flicked to the pouch of coins before returning to Elowen's face. For a moment, he seemed to consider his options, then he nodded once and took the pouch, tucking it into his apron.
"Upstairs, third door on the left," he said gruffly. "But if anyone asks, I didn't see you."
Elowen nodded, satisfied, and turned to make her way up the narrow staircase. The steps creaked underfoot, the wood worn smooth by years of use. The hallway was dark, lit only by a single flickering candle that cast long shadows on the walls. Elowen walked with purpose, her eyes scanning the numbers on the doors until she reached the one she was looking for.
She paused in front of the door, her hand hovering just above the wood. Then, with a glance at the worn surface, she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of gloves, slipping them on before knocking. The sound was sharp in the quiet hallway, and Elowen could hear movement from within the room—a frantic rustling, the clatter of something falling.
A voice, high and panicked, called out from behind the door. "Who is it?"
"Elowen," she replied simply, her tone calm. "You have five minutes."
She could hear the panic in the woman's response—a flurry of footsteps, the sound of a suitcase being thrown open. Elowen didn't wait. She turned on her heel and walked back down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. By the time she reached the front door of the inn, the bartender had already returned to his place behind the counter, his expression carefully neutral as he polished a glass.
Elowen stepped outside into the fading light, the air cool against her skin. She made her way back to the carriage, where the driver waited patiently, and climbed inside. The door had barely closed behind her when the inn's front door burst open, and a young woman came rushing out.
Rebecca was a striking figure—tall, thick and sturdy, with long blonde hair that spilled over her shoulders in wild waves, with an ample blossom, and beautiful brown eyes. She was dressed in simple traveling clothes, but her most distinctive feature was the large shield strapped to her back, the metal gleaming dully in the waning light. She glanced around frantically, her eyes locking onto the carriage. Without hesitation, she sprinted towards it, her footsteps pounding against the cobblestones.
She reached the carriage just as Elowen was settling into her seat, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. With a nod from Elowen, the driver opened the trunk of the carriage, allowing Rebecca to toss her belongings inside.
'How did she grow so much in just a year' Elowen couldn't help but think as looked at the mounds of flesh that bounced as Rebecca pranced around.
She looked down at her chest and frowned, as she started to feel inferior, at that point Rebecca was about to enter the carriage, when she was stopped by Elowen.
"Coming to this filthy area has stained my shoes, wipe it." Elowen said in a commanding tone.
Rebecca, finding no fault in the reasoning, swiftly bent down to wipe her shoes, prompting a stunning yet sadistically tinged smile to spread across Elowen's face.
Elowen allowed her in, and the carriage lurched into motion, carrying the two women away from the inn and back towards the noble district. Inside, the tension was palpable—Rebecca sat rigidly on the edge of her seat, her eyes flicking nervously towards Elowen, who regarded her with a cool, unreadable expression.
"Thank you," Rebecca said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
Elowen's gaze softened, just a fraction, as she regarded the younger woman. "You are a good pe…, Mmh—friend, Rebecca. I'm not one to abandon those who are once close to me."
Rebecca nodded, relief flooding her features, though it was clear that she was still tense. The carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets, the sound of the wheels filling the silence between them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Elowen spoke again.
"What happened to you? Why were you in find a place like this."
Rebecca hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap as she gathered her thoughts. She had known this moment was coming—the moment when she would have to explain everything. But now that it was here, the words seemed to stick in her throat.
Rebecca took a deep breath, steadying herself before she began her story. Her voice was soft at first, but as she spoke, it grew stronger, the memories flooding back with a clarity that was both painful and liberating.
"It all started after I left the Magic Foundation Academy," Rebecca began, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere in the distance, as if reliving the events. "When I graduated, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. I was going to become a mage, earn a good living, and make my family proud. But things didn't turn out the way I expected."
She glanced at Elowen, who remained silent, her expression inscrutable but attentive. Encouraged, Rebecca continued.
"When I got home, I was expecting a hero's welcome. I thought my parents would be proud of what I had accomplished. But instead, I was met with sorrow. My father…" She paused, her voice catching in her throat. "My father had died. He was killed while protecting a caravan from bandits. My mother… she was devastated. She fell into a deep depression, and our family started to fall apart."
Elowen's gaze softened, a flicker of empathy crossing her features, but she said nothing, allowing Rebecca to continue.
"My mother, she had always been strong, always kept our family together," Rebecca said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "But after my father died, she just… gave up. She stopped working, stopped caring, and the debts began to pile up. I thought… I thought I could help. I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps, to become a shield knight like him. But my mother, she didn't see it that way. She wanted me to be a mage, to earn money and pay off the debts. We argued, and I ran away."
Rebecca's hands trembled slightly as she spoke, her knuckles white as she clenched them in her lap. "I was gone for days, wandering the countryside, trying to figure out what to do. But then… I realized I couldn't just leave her like that. She was my mother, and she needed me. So I went back, hoping to make amends. I thought we could work things out, that we could find a way to move forward together."
She swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion. "But when I got home… everything was different. The house was cold and empty. And then, before I could even understand what was happening, these men—mercenaries—burst in and grabbed me. My mother just stood there, watching, as they took me away. She… she had sold me. Sold me to pay off her debts."
Elowen's eyes darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Your own mother did that to you?" she asked, her voice low, almost dangerous.
Rebecca nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. "Yes. She didn't even look at me as they dragged me out of the house. I was taken to the capital, to be sold as a slave to some noble who was looking for a mage with combat abilities. I thought my life was over, that I'd be stuck in some dungeon or forced to serve someone who saw me as nothing more than a tool."
"But you escaped," Elowen said, a note of admiration in her voice.
"I did," Rebecca confirmed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "It was pure luck. The night before the auction, there was a commotion—something about a rival gang trying to raid the place. In the chaos, I managed to slip out of my cell and sneak through the tunnels underneath the auction house. I found my way to the surface and just… ran. I didn't stop running until I was sure no one was following me."
The carriage jolted slightly as it navigated a turn, but neither woman seemed to notice. Rebecca was lost in her memories, and Elowen was absorbed in the story, her attention unwavering.
"After that, I had to survive on my own," Rebecca continued. "I couldn't go back to my family, and I had no money, no connections. So I started taking mercenary work, just like my father used to do. It was dangerous, but it paid well enough to keep me fed and housed. But then, I heard about the upcoming enrollment at Aetherium Academy, and I knew that if I could just get in, I'd have a chance to turn my life around."
Rebecca's eyes met Elowen's, her gaze filled with determination. "But I didn't have the money to pay for tuition, and I knew I wasn't talented enough to win a scholarship. So I reached out to you, hoping… hoping that maybe you'd remember our time at the institution, that you'd help me. I didn't know if you'd even respond, but I had to try."
Elowen was silent for a moment, her thoughts clearly turning over in her mind. She had always seen Rebecca as a 'friend', but more often as a follower—someone who was strong but needed guidance. She had never imagined that Rebecca's life had taken such a dark turn. The story had stirred something in her—anger at the injustice Rebecca had faced and her own family issues, Elowen didn't believe her mother would do such a thing, as for her father and siblings, the possibility was there.
"You've been through a lot," Elowen finally said, her voice softening. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you sooner, Rebecca. But you don't have to go through this alone anymore. You're not just a mage, or a shield knight, or whatever the world tries to make you into. You're Rebecca, my property, so I will help you."
Rebecca blinked, surprise and confusion evident in her eyes. "Elowen… Thank you"
She wasn't too sure about the "property" part, but Elowen's assistants was her goal so she gratefully accepted her aid.
Rebecca looked down, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispered again.
Elowen reached out, placing a gloved hand over Rebecca's. "And as for your mother…" She paused, her voice growing colder. "I'll make sure she never troubles you again."
Rebecca's eyes widened at the implication, but she didn't argue. Instead, she nodded, as a tear slipped down her cheek.
As the carriage rolled on towards the noble district, both women fell into a contemplative silence, the bond between them strengthened by the shared experiences and the trials they would face.