Upload Date: 07-06-24
Major Edits: 27-09-24 [Additional Content and Tone Adjustments]
Day After the Transfer
Narberal 1
Noon arrived with a calmer ambiance. In the wake of the king's decrees, the palace had been in a constant state of rush— filled with joy, excitement, and even laments from those who felt squandered.
None truly were, in all fairness. Yet, greed was ever man's companion, and appreciation a forgotten luxury when greatness endured longer than a single cycle.
Narberal kept her face composed, though her annoyance simmered beneath. She had passed many of these greed-driven worms— maids and guardsmen alike, though more often the latter. Envy was all they cried, either for the brave souls in the milatur or the fair subjects not privileged with jobs of high prestige.
King Arathron, in all his glorious mercy, had wanted blind kindness. Aid to all who would want it.
A fair gift.
However equality could not be offered to people who were not equal. Doing so would not alter the current status. Thus, all those who enjoyed positions of high wealth or prestige were barred from greater aid.
Thus came the present laments of the palace guardsmen, who felt unjustly deprived of the secondary estates they would have built in the nation's countryside. The mere entitlement in their voices was enough to make one's ears bleed.
These were folk of ample means, many of whom scarce needed so much, given the vastness of royal benefits bestowed upon their primary families. Housing, edification, opportunities, and privileged status— these afforded them the ease of life, with food and luxuries costing less, if aught at all, in the royal-owned stores.
Yet more they wanted.
Deeper in her heart, she knew these voiced envies were little more than words. Unserious and unfelt. Yet Narberal was a Nishikienrai, born and raised. And although she had not taken to the main art of her clan, peripheral exposure still moulded her into the cautious and proper sort…
This caution was further heightened by the teachings of her governess and her mother— who had been a more sterner parent to her than her father. Harsher, she would say, but that would be a judgment born of petulance.
…thus she knew well the dangers of words born from carelessness or even innocent fun. And now that they were no longer residents of the ever-realm— a reality she still had yet to fully accept— there would be real consequences to such idle talk.
Exploitable consequences.
Her father's men would need to work twice as much to ensure that information shared by the common serfs did not carry with it important secrets.
'But would Tou-san be angered by this?' she wondered, finding that she could not deduce his thoughts. Yet Narberal liked to believe that his views mirrored her own, and thus reeducation would naturally follow for those foolish enough to let such words escape their lips.
She spared a glance at another group, a spell over her eyes and ears for sharper prying. A pair of stray guardsmen had surrounded themselves with a gaggle of opportunistic maids.
"…be content with a big farm and home. Unlike grumpy Berne over here I've the funds for it. Been saving up for half a decade now, so I've a nice fortune on me." One of the guards boasted…impressing.
The harlot maids giggled at him, fluttering their lashes this way and that.
Narberal prided herself on her ability to read people, a talent she believed she inherited from her mother, a prodigy in such matters. It was in her blood, she liked to think. And from this group, she sensed nothing but falsehoods.
Worthless.
Her walk took her further from the group, yet she still encountered many of the same disposition along her path, and even a few lovers who discussed milder wishes in locations they thought private.
Even those, Narberal viciously judged.
Velena needed to reeducate its servants on secrecy and disassociation once more. This type of behavior could not be allowed to linger.
Had it been up to her, she would have long rendered them corpses, a harsher example to all those who might have forgotten the importance of their stations.
Alas, she lacked both the authority and might to achieve such a feat— monsters were the individuals who held purely combative stations within the palace— though she would be remiss as a Pleiades if she did not share her discoveries with the queen.
Moments passed, and she ran her thoughts through her mind once more. This time, a smaller urge to laugh— for giggling was beneath her— plotted against her. Yet her countenance held, or at least she liked to think it did.
She would certainly be wroth if those she met along the way spread ill-rumours about her smiling…or giggling. Or any of those displays removed from her ever-stern expression.
Still, her muses were rather ridiculous…and extreme.
Narberal eventually withdrew her attention from the silly serfs, directing it toward the blue skies devoid of clouds. The sun hung at its peak, glaring, yet its heat was mild and pleasant.
She wondered if that was its true intensity, being familiar with some of the barriers the city boasted.
It would not be difficult to regulate the city's weather to an extreme opposite of the outside. Yet today, she suspected Mirror's hand was at play, if for no other reason than to maintain some level of commonality for the cautionary squad that ventured beyond the protections of Petuios.
She turned a corner, her gait still deliberate and the hum of the serving tray she was pushing still at an easy rhythm. Her uniform fluttered from the soft breeze blowing southward, the scent of the flower garden northeast of the castle proper filtering through her nose.
The fragrance was almost addictive.
The sight of the garden was green with a congregation of colours red, blue, purple and yellow nurtured and styled. Rogue trees stood sentinel with fleeting shades, and slabs of stones made paths into the faux meadow.
Ponds stuffed with colourful fish shimmered at the sun's rays, and fountains made from ashen limestone accentuated the coddled greenery.
It was a true sight to behold, though not one she was frequently exposed to due to her duties being so tied to the royals, who rarely left the castle's upper floors.
The maid was happy for the change, and hoped it was more a prelude than just a fleeting indulgence on the king's part.
Her gaze flickered to the gazebo at the centre of the garden. Within were two individuals locked in conversation, one dressed in robes of purple and gold while the other was adorned in a white hanfu after the day's third change.
A bit of heat rose to her cheeks at the memory.
Due to the Pleiades' schedule, today Narberal had been assigned as the primary aide to the royals, with Lupusregina serving as the secondary. However, because of the recent edicts and subsequent orders, the other five had been dispatched beyond the palace to attend to assignments that demanded a level of respect.
Thus, she had been left alone to tend to the aftermath of the royals' union— meaning she had the lone courtesy of hearing the queen's précis of her experiences. The queen could be a very vivid recounter, especially in her love-haze.
The elementalist even suspected that her mother would blush at some of the things the royal pair did to each other, and her mother was not necessarily the modest type. Yet still, even with the temptatious recounts of the queen, she never once lamented the couple's desires for one another…
…as it seemed to be the case for Lord Sebas.
No, the queen had ever been the recipient of much contempt and suspicion because of her inability to bear the 9th lineage. A false claim. Narberal knew well that the absence of past pregnancies stemmed from the king's fears…and knowledge of calmer times.
And now that such times had come to pass, the royals' fervor had swelled, as had their desire to banish the fears of the royal lineage from the hearts of their subjects.
Narberal, as a proper aide to the royal couple, had also contributed to their eagerness, teaching the queen the Rabbit Set despite the royal's less than secret intentions to use the spell as an allure.
Sometimes the elementalist wondered how the creators of such spells would feel if they knew their works were being perverted in this manner.
She banished those musings, funneling her focus onto her task and maintaining elegance, now that her destination was in clear view.
…a confused frown crossed her face as she drew nearer, and the figures in the gazebo became clearer— specifically the person garbed in purple and gold robes.
Her eyes widened despite her attempt to maintain composure. Shock and awe were written plainly across her features, though her heart echoed with the familiar fears of judgment and insignificance…
Born to a house only surpassed by the royals themselves, few ever held her respect. Yet among those few, one who commanded her reverence by magical excellence alone was the Head of House Gown.
Or as was his favoured status, Supreme Magus Gown.
Needless to say, the man was the very image of aspiration for any arcanist with even a shred of self-respect. And Narberal was among the fortunate few in whom the man had taken a personal interest.
Normally a prided consideration, however she had been rather lax in her magical pursuits as of late, and that would doubtless be sensed by the exalted magus.
…her self-consciousness flared as she also wondered if her physical presentation was lacking. Though she loathed to admit it, the king was rather lax in his judgments; as long as the uniform was worn, he would neither see nor take notice of any fault in appearance.
Unfortunately, that view was not shared by many, least of all by herself.
Hence, albeit with extreme carefulness and deliberation, the elementalist separated her Elemental Mana from her Arcanic with an ease that bordered on contemptuous, and cast a thrice-boosted [Purge] on her person.
Yet even as the 1st-tier spell took effect and wasted away, her fears did not wane. Not for the first time did she lament the absence of an [Order] variant within the arcane side of the mystics.
The druidic spell would have been a far better alternative for rectification— assisted organization. Narberal sighed and resigned herself to the supreme magus's judgment.
A few serfs did pass by her in the corridors, among them a couple of gardeners whose aura stank of damped earth and tree sap. Those must have felt her envy because they tended to give her a wide berth and feigned ignorant to her existence.
"Spineless curs a lot of them."
She finally stepped out of the pale corridors and onto the paved pathway leading to the gazebo. Two royal guards flanked its pathway, semi-clad in their armor, with sheathed swords resting at their hips.
Their postures were lenient and easy, though there was an eeriness to them that demanded caution.
Narberal's façade of calm did not wane at their searching stares, long used to them. Even as their items chimed clear of any taint upon the meals she was set to serve, her face was quiet and back straight. Sir Bellriver, as the senior most of the pair, gestured her permittance even as a very queer expression plagued his countenance.
She paid his oddness little heed, lest the unseen mujin report false interest unto her mother. No, the unmatched guard might be a striking face, but the elementalist had no desire for romantic pursuits.
She and the serving tray climbed over the small curved bridge way which allowed the pond waters to wander free. She was closer now, close enough to hear the words exchanged with the king and supreme magus.
"...a school, for wizardry, like the old legends. There, they'd teach matters of great import—alchemy, curse-breaking, summoning, and the like. Genius, wouldn't you say?"
It was her king's voice, low and brimming with excitement. Though his eyes did not turn her way, he sensed her presence and, with a subtle gesture, beckoned her over.
Narberal complied, drawing near to the short staircase as she summoned her fractured Mana, guiding it into the [Float] enchantment bound within the tray— an exquisite piece forged from an alloy of black iron and emerald gold.
The shift from ground to air was seamless, marked by neither unsteadiness nor strain.
"No, it's not. That barely even fits within the realms of foolishness." The supreme magus's voice had a bit of vexation in it, ever so casual with his tone. "Where are you getting all these ideas from?"
The royal's enthusiasm faltered, though it did not fully give way to disappointment— let alone, gods forbid, displeasure. In truth, she scarcely understood the bond between the king and the dukes, and her mother had offered little in the way of clarity on the matter.
King Arathron dryly remarked, "And here I thought you'd be more open-minded." He reached into his sleeve— though Narberal suspected it was actually his pocket space— and retrieved a book. "But I won't deny you your curiosity. Here."
Lord Gown took the leathered tome with scant ceremony, and by his unerring mastery of the arcane, summoned forth a pair of spectacles—strange in their craft, even to her unpolished senses.
He scanned through several pages before a frown pulled at his lips. "This is a story book." His tone was not quite incredulous, but the maid felt that was all the man felt. She felt the same too.
"Glad to see your brain still functions well at least." The king did not sound all that surprised. "You aren't getting a trophy for that discovery by the way."
The supreme magus sighed, "Of course you would treat children stories as gospel." Narberal blinked in bewilderment, it felt as if she was missing something here. Lord Gown finally turned his attention towards her, tossing the book to the table. His expression instantly morphed into one of, not quite joy, but something pleasant. "If it isn't young Nabe."
The elementalist, who had stood quietly by the pair's side, her hands clasped over the lower part of her white bib at her abdomen, bowed with practiced grace. "Your Majesty, Lord Gown, I come bearing your midday meals," she intoned softly.
The king was still occupied with the inspection of his book, turning it this way and that; thus, he paid her words little heed.
"Then do not allow our discussions to hinder your duties," the supreme magus replied, granting her permission. She hesitated for a second, glancing towards the king. "Don't mind him."
She decided to trust in the duke.
"…damnit, Ainz, do you know how treasure this book is? I ought to have your neck lopped off for that little stunt." The king's anger was feigned, yet his annoyance was genuine. "First it was Sebas, and now it's you. Narberal, if your father follows in the footsteps of these two, I shall have my love make life difficult for all you great houses."
Already in the motion of preparing the table, the maid did not stop as she answered:
"He won't, Your Majesty."
"Well, your father likely won't; the Nine know he's the most understanding of this lot." Despite herself, pride filled her heart at those words. Unfortunately the king was not done, "Your mother, though…"
Narberal resolved to feign ignorance from that moment forth. It was truly a shame, as the two men were among the most exalted in the field of mystics— though the king did not harbour the fervent passion one would expect of someone so powerful.
She went to the tray and retrieved a tablecloth, applying it to the oak table. The pair continued their talks, barely noticing her withdrawal, the supreme magus even lamenting his wife's indifference toward his arcane pursuits.
It seemed Narberal had worried over nothing; the supreme magus barely spared her appearance a judging glance.
This eased her nerves, and her movements became fluid as she began arranging the food. The first items— the starters— were two small bowls of cut fruits drizzled with mystwasp nectar, placed closer to the pair.
"…the problem with you, Ainz, is that you're so fixated on that thrice-damned institution of yours that you've subconsciously deemed everything else as secondary." The king paused to take a bite of the fruit, a look of contentment settling upon his face a second after.
Narberal had to tightly rein in her impulses to avoid any visible reaction to the royal's words. Lord Gown, however, was not so restrained. "Rather blunt of you, no? But I feel your—"
The king shook his head, interrupting. "No, I'm being serious here. You're a neglectful husband. You have so many alternatives and compromises, yet you use none of them to lighten your workload. I'm not asking you to mirror my love life— the Nine know how absurd that would be— but you really need to treat Morgane well, lest she becomes everyone's problem."
In fairness, Narberal did not consider Duchess Gown to be such a frightful person. Yes, the woman had some questionable blood flowing in her veins, but she was both beautiful and pleasant. In Narberal's opinion, that alone made her ten times better than the eccentric magi roaming about the Institution and Towers.
While lost in her thoughts, the pair carried on with their discussion, alternating between agreement and argument. Narberal even gathered that the supreme magus had not come to the palace merely to visit the king, but was instead seeking to establish a branch of the Institution in the lands of Fiore.
That revelation somehow convinced the supreme magus of his unhealthy fixation on what he had originally considered just a hobby.
As they continued their conversation, she persisted in serving— or at least attempting to— a variety of dishes. However, aside from the fruit bowls, the only other item accepted was the blueberry lemonade, which Lord Gown seemed to have taken a particular liking to.
"On the topic of love lives and marital neglect, I'd like to know if the dragonoid has any thoughts on marriage and passing along his rare lineage," came the sudden shift in conversation. Narberal froze at the same moment as the king, whose glass hovered just a hair's breadth from his lips.
"That was vile."
"Perhaps," the magus shrugged. "But don't you think it's time to relieve him of the status of minder? After all, you're well past the point of needing one."
The elementalist held her breath, but the king did not erupt. She knew that, short of the queen, the head butler was the closest person the royal considered family.
"In two moons, I'll relieve him of the duty," King Arathron intoned, though there was a strange note in his voice. "However, in return, I will have you create those spells we've discussed."
"No, aside from the spells being dangerous and difficult, the venture simply seems foolish." There was barely a moment of hesitation in the supreme magus's voice. "I won't waste my time on such frivolities."
"Gods above, Ainz, if you aren't keen on assisting me with this then I don't get why you even sought an audience with me."
"I didn't."
"Remember this day, Narberal, for this is the day the head of Gown denied countless kids true happiness." The king theatrically proclaimed, and Narberal was more curious what the pair had been discussing before her arrival.
Fortunately, the two were more than willing to enlighten her through their exchange— though Narberal would not dare call it bickering, as such a term would verge on disrespect and stray into the realm of treason. Yet, unfortunately, that was exactly what they were doing.
Essentially, the king wanted the supreme magus to create a number of spells—dangerous ones, at that—for an immersive play he was planning. Predictably, Lord Gown denied this request, and the maid found herself in agreement with that judgment. Spells were exceedingly difficult and complex to create, and even harder to master.
Unfortunately, the supreme magus offered little in the way of alternatives, despite his younger brother being a quite talented and renowned Play Master. This ultimately led to them exchanging barbs, with little regard on resolving the king's problems.
"This seems like something that can easily be resolved with illusion magic, my king," had been her suggestion. It was a proposal that earned her a rare sight in both men.
Flustered embarrassment.
"I heard from the Chief Librarian that there might be an entire section within the archives dedicated to the Sky Elemental theories and spell works."
Of course, as was proper for a royal servant— one also born of noble blood— she behaved as though that moment had never occurred. Her recounts of the event would conveniently omit that part altogether.
…a plate of pan-seared vorne-duck breast with roasted potatoes, asparagus and cherry tomatoes drizzled with bonaven sauce was her offering as the main dish, followed by a dessert of culfay parfait the king was quite taken with.
It was quite a nice lunch. And she was now all the more hopeful that the flower gardens were not a fleeting fancy.
Information [Magics]
1. Mirror: A spell matrix in a form of a ward that mimics the environmental effects of the outer world and reflects them into the isolated plane.
2. Rabbit Set: A collection of 1st-tier arcane spells under the school of alteration that impart rabbit features unto the caster, along with boosted attributes.
Rabbit Ears: This spell spawns a pair of rabbit ears on the caster's head and increases their auditory perception.
Rabbit Legs: This spell spawns a pair of rabbits legs on the caster and increases their speed.
Rabbit Tail: This spell spawns a bunny tail on the caster and increases their agility.
--Cast all at once, the caster will undergo a pseudo transformation that leaves them with certain rabbit features (a term bunny girl might be suitable) for a certain duration.
3. Elemental Mana: A unique metaphysical energy common within the mana system of individuals with elemental affinities. This energy makes their elemental spells more potent if fuelled by it. It also grants unique abilities (mostly elemental in origin) if the affinity is strong or impressive cultivated.
--Elemental Detection is one of the common and likely abilities acquired, although geared towards the respective element type.
4. Arcanic Mana: This is the type of mana cultivated by arcane practitioners and it is almost capable of invoking any spell from the arcane branch and its derivative.
5. [Purge]: A 1st-tier arcane spell that can be used to eliminate unwanted dirt on individuals. This spell has a none lethal effect to it and seeks to restore external cleanliness to nonorganic materials .
6. [Order]: This is a 2nd tier spirit-plant druidic spell that conjures invisible, vine-like appendages that extend from the caster's body, acting as extensions of their will. These appendages can perform a variety of minor tasks, such as organizing objects, cleaning surfaces, or fetching small items. The vines are ethereal and undetectable by sight, making their actions seem like the work of unseen hands.
7. [Float]: This is a lesser derivative of the Levitation spell. It allows the user to defy the laws of gravity for a short moment, though the flight it grants could barely be classified as such.
The Saint: There's more I wanted to say in this chapter, more exposition on the characters (NPCs) and their backstories, but I decided on giving information little by little, especially when it's most relevant to the story.
So yeah, the MC recreated some of the members of AOG but the numbers are quite small. No Ulbert, Touch Me or the pervert, but their existences will be mentioned.
To the actual chapter: I tried to capture Narberal's essence, I.E her extremism and tendency to call those she doesn't care much for "insects". Though I made it most of her extreme reactions are mostly internal. What do you guys think, was there something I missed about her? Also her character will be kinda bi-polar on most situations.
Towards anyone she considers lesser (probably everyone outside Elgroth's noble circle). She will be cold, disdainful, and in some cases, dismissive. (this story has a discrimination tag on AO3)
Towards anyone she considers an equal (or superior) she will be respectful, polite, and in some cases like the Pleiades, extremely open.
Towards her parents (mostly her mother) she will be petulant, unrestrained, comfortable, and in some cases, extremely vulnerable and childish. (Her mother is a nag btw)
Let me know.
Next chapter is Demiurge. This will be a more person focused.