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Chapter 11: The Rewards of Struggle

  I visited Master Orindal the next morning.

  When he saw me, he hesitated to open the door fully. After a sigh, he pushed it wider, revealing the messy interior of the Mage Tavern. Piles of books cluttered the floor while a dusty vase sat forgotten in the corner. On the wall, I saw a collection of wooden staves and canes shrouded with cobwebs.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Good morning, Master Orindal. I came to give you this.” I offered the basket containing the three bottles of herbs I had bought yesterday.

  He stared at the basket. “My lady, didn’t I make myself clear last time? I have no intention of taking you as my apprentice.”

  “Please don’t feel burdened. You can think of it as a gift… for your service to our family.” I smiled and held out the basket to him.

  “I’ll accept this, but it won’t change my mind. You’re better off studying in your estate’s library or the City Library. A good book can certainly teach you anything you want to learn about potions.” Orindal bowed slightly and pushed the door closed.

  I stared at the door for a long moment, feeling a pang of disappointment. I had hoped the herbs might somehow change his mind.

  I sighed. What could even convince someone like him? In my previous life, money or favors were enough to make nobles do my bidding. But this time, even expensive bribes didn’t seem to work.

  In the following days, I kept visiting the Mage Tavern. I decided to change my approach. I would show him how diligent and hardworking I could be. I busied myself helping him in every way possible. I removed reeds from the small garden plot in front of the house, ensuring that whatever he grew would thrive. I cut away thick vines choking the walls and replaced empty pots with fresh plants.

  “My lady!” Lina called one afternoon when she came to visit. “What are you thinking, doing a gardener’s work?”

  Her gaze flickered toward the Mage Tavern, her expression souring. “Did he make you do this? How could he?”

  “Lina, calm down. I’m doing this of my own volition.”

  She sighed and crouched beside me. “My lady, you’ll dirty your clothes. Why don’t you change into your hunting outfit? I’ll have it prepared for tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate your concern. But please, don’t worry about what I’m doing. Dirtying my hands is better than what would happen if I fail to convince him.”

  Lina tilted her head, her brown eyes clouded with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  I returned to filling an empty pot with soil. “You don’t need to. Let’s just say I’m doing what I truly want. If it still bothers you, prepare my hunting clothes for tomorrow.”

  Lina reluctantly agreed. The next morning, I arrived dressed in a white shirt, a black waistcoat, brown breeches, and boots.

  When I reached the Mage Tavern, I noticed something different.

  A wooden table and two chairs, painted white, had been placed in the front yard. In the center of the table sat a wooden pitcher and two glass cups. At first, I thought he had simply forgotten to bring them inside. But the presence of two cups made it clear, one of those was meant for me.

  The simple gesture warmed me. Maybe, just maybe, Master Orindal would finally give me a chance.

  The next morning, the table remained. This time, I brought a basket of cookies and left it there before returning to my gardening. I cut through more vines and cleared the reeds choking the orchard. The Mage Tavern, tucked deep inside the family garden, had suffered years of neglect. Vines had conquered the orchard, killing plants once nurtured by the previous heads of House Goldhain. The soil in the pots had hardened into stone, making it difficult to plant anything new.

  I enlisted the help of our family gardener, who provided seed packs and healthy soil.

  In the past five days, I had replaced around seventy empty pots with new plants.

  I wished my days ended there. But after working in the garden, I still had to prepare and join my parents for dinner.

  The next morning, I decided to switch my routine. I began picking tomatoes from Orindal’s small vegetable patch. My skill, Basic Ingredient Mastery, told me that their pale orange color meant they were ready to be harvested.

  Behind me, the door swung open.

  I turned, startled to see Master Orindal stepping outside. He wore a cream-colored shirt under a deep green vest. A silver necklace with an emerald pendant hung around his neck, the mark of a licensed mage.

  “G-good morning!” I stammered.

  “Good morning, Lady Morgana,” he said calmly, his gaze shifting between the tomatoes in my hand and the clear blue sky above us.

  He waved his hand, and a silver basin filled with water appeared near me.

  “Once you’re done, wash your hands. I have something to discuss with you.” His tone was even, serious. He looked at me for a moment longer before turning on his heel and disappearing inside.

  Nervousness prickled at me. Was he about to tell me to leave?

  I was still busy conjuring ways to salvage the situation when he returned, carrying a tray with a tea kettle, two porcelain cups, and a plate of steaming cookies.

  "Take your seat," Orindal said.

  I sat across from him. He reached for the kettle and poured me a cup of tea. We drank in silence. The tea had an earthy smell with a subtle sweetness, similar to chamomile. I stayed on edge, watching every move Master Orindal made.

  He reached for the cookies, but as soon as he bit into one, disappointment crossed his face.

  "It is not even comparable to the one you brought me."

  I picked up a cookie and took a bite. It tasted bland, as if he had mixed only water and flour.

  "It tastes okay," I said, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.

  He shook his head. "Mine is nothing but an imitation."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He smiled and drummed his fingers lightly on the table. The sound made my skin prickle.

  "We mages train for years to recreate truths. This table and chair," he said, tapping the surface, "I created through magic."

  I leaned forward, tracing the table’s smooth surface with my fingertips.

  "It feels real."

  "It is," Master Orindal replied, "but a mage who has trained long enough can see its imperfections. Magic is the power to imitate truth. To master it, one must know how to separate truth from illusion."

  He held my gaze. "I'll tell you a story. After the Golden Runes entered our world, early mages attempted something reckless. They changed their physical forms. Some became birds and soared through the skies. Others transformed into sharks and roamed the seas. But many failed to recognize that their powers were imitations, not reality. They began to believe in their own lies. Most of them eventually never return to their original selves."

  A bird cooed as it perched on a branch nearby. It tilted its head slightly, as if listening.

  "How many of the birds you see flying above were once mages who lost their true selves? Countless. And still, from time to time, a foolish mage repeats their mistake, never to be seen again. That is why we must learn to distinguish imitation from truth."

  I nodded slowly, the weight of his warning settling on my shoulders.

  "What is the goal of magic?" Master Orindal asked, setting down his cup.

  My eyes widened. "T-to use it to improve one's life?"

  He clicked his tongue. "You read none of the books I asked you to read... The goal of magic is to imitate without ever losing sight that what you create is an imitation. Never mistake a copy for the real thing."

  He opened his palm, revealing a flame dancing on the air between his fingers.

  "This is an imitation. Potions, too, are imitations. What you seek to pursue is different from my art, but it follows the same principle. Take a Stamina Tonic, for example. When drunk, it invigorates the body but the feeling fades. It was never true strength, only a borrowed sensation."

  He pushed a piece of paper toward me.

  "Find every book on that list. Most should already be in your estate’s library."

  My heart raced as I read the titles, the realization of what his words meant overwhelmed me.

  "Your apprenticeship starts tomorrow. Go home and prepare. I will speak to your father about our new arrangement."

  I sat frozen in my seat, struggling to process his words. I had to tap my arm several times just to remind myself this wasn’t a dream. I looked up to thank him, but Master Orindal had already vanished, as if he had never been there at all.

  I stepped outside and found Lina waiting for me at the entrance of the Golden Orchard. The moment I saw her, something in me shifted.

  Without thinking, I rushed forward and pulled her into a sudden embrace.

  "My lady!" she exclaimed, startled.

  "I succeeded!" I cried.

  Somehow, she understood. Lina patted my back gently until my shaking hands and racing heart calmed.

  The only proof I had that this day was real was the piece of paper hidden in my dress, listing the books Master Orindal had assigned.

  A knock came at my door. Quickly, I folded the list and tucked it away.

  Standing outside was my mother.

  "Good afternoon, Mother," I greeted.

  She studied my face carefully. "Your brothers will arrive tomorrow afternoon. You must prepare yourself to welcome them."

  "Yes, I will do as you say."

  She lingered, eyes heavy with something I could not name, before leaving without another word.

  Mother’s attitude had changed since I first arrived. At first, she was openly hostile. Now, she had become cold and unreadable, like a wall I could neither climb nor break.

  I shook my head, pushing the thought away. I had no time for dark musings. I had too many reasons to be grateful today. Master Orindal had accepted me as his student, and my brothers would soon return home.

  After composing myself, I made my way to the library.

  The family’s library was located in the same wing as my room. It was several times larger than an ordinary chamber, its shelves rising toward a ceiling painted with swirling constellations. Solaris Manor had two libraries: this newly built one and an older library housed in a separate building.

  The librarian was nowhere to be found. I wandered the shelves alone, trailing my fingers along the spines of ancient tomes, letting the scent of old parchment and leather ground me in the moment.

  “Greetings, Lady Goldhain. I am Mara, the librarian of this library. Thank you for gracing us with your noble presence,” she said.

  Mara looked to be twice my age, a woman with soft brown hair and hazel eyes peeking through her spectacles.

  “Are you here to look for a book?” she asked, glancing around.

  “Yes. Do you happen to have these books?” I handed her a piece of paper.

  Her brows furrowed. “Hmm, the first four, we should have them. They’re fairly recent. But the last three... I’ll need to search the old library. The librarian there might know where to find them.”

  “Thank you. That would be of great help.”

  She smiled warmly. “I’ll have one of the servants deliver the books to you as soon as I find them.”

  Before I left, Mara recommended a few books that might pique my interest. I told her I would ask my servant to pick them up. By late afternoon, Lina came knocking at my door with five books in her hands and an invitation from Mother. They wanted me to join them for dinner.

  I woke early the next day, excitement bubbling in my chest. My mind drifted in the clouds as I checked my drawer again and again, ensuring the list Master Orindal had given me was still there.

  “It’s real,” I whispered, smoothing the neatly folded paper.

  Lina arrived and helped me dress in an emerald and gold gown.

  “My lady, the young masters will surely admire your dress and beauty.”

  I smiled at her compliment, though my heart stirred with unease. I hadn’t expected to meet my brothers again so soon. My memories of them could be summed up in two words: hatred and oblivion. Thaddeus had grown to despise me, while Everard slowly faded from my mind as the years passed.

  A heavy weight pressed against my heart. The plague, an event still a few years away, loomed over my thoughts. I had already warned Count Hugel about it, I'll just hope he would use the information to hasten research for a cure.

  I sighed, remembering the loneliness of my deathbed. Even then, I had thought of Thaddeus, my younger brother. I missed him dearly. The last time I saw him, he had received a medal from my husband, the emperor. He had looked at me then as if I were a stranger, his eyes cold and unfamiliar. That memory still haunted me. Whatever affection we once shared had vanished after that day.

  Perhaps that was why he never visited me in prison.

  I made my way downstairs toward the receiving room. Mother and Father were already seated. Mother wore a deep green dress while Father was in a gray vest over a dark green shirt.

  Soon, the sound of footsteps approached, loud against the marble floors. My heart hammered against my chest. I swallowed hard.

  “Where are they?” a voice called out. It was strange, hearing them again. I wondered if my brothers’ voices had always sounded so deep.

  “Your Grace, Lord Everard and Lord Thaddeus have arrived.”

  Two familiar faces appeared in the doorway. Bitter and sorrowful memories crashed over me like a waterfall. Yet, beneath the nervousness I saw reflected in their eyes, there was something else... adoration.

  Everard, our eldest, had inherited most of Father's features: black hair, deep green eyes, and a strong jaw. I had seen paintings of Father as a young man and he look exactly like Everard

  Then my gaze shifted to Thaddeus, my little brother.

  He appeared awkward and clumsy, just as I remembered. But behind his clumsy demeanor was a sharp intuition that had always set him apart. His head turned toward me, eyes so vividly red like Mother's, watched me closely.

  Everard made a formal bow. Seeing Thaddeus hesitate, he placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently.

  “Father, Mother, Sister... we have arrived,” Everard said.

  They approached. Everard embraced Mother tightly while Thaddeus lingered at his side, uncertain.

  Everard glanced my way, and a warm smile lit his face. He stepped forward and embraced me. For a moment, the world around me faded. I clutched his back, feeling the solid warmth of him. This is an undeniable proof that this was real. My brother was alive, and this time, I could change his fate.

  “Morgana, it’s only been a year since you left, but it feels like you’ve grown so much,” he said.

  “You too, Everard. I’m so happy you’re home.” My voice trembled slightly.

  He nodded, though a trace of concern flickered in his eyes.

  “I’m really glad you’re here. I heard what happened.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but found myself overwhelmed by emotion. For them, only a year or two had passed. For me, it had been more than four decades since I last saw them.

  Everard shook his head gently. “You don’t have to explain anything now. But I hope a day will come when you can tell us your reasons for leaving the university.” He cast a glance at our parents. “They might not say it, but they worry about you.”

  I nodded, blinking back tears. “I know. I understand them.”

  Everard hugged me again.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” I whispered once more.

  After our greetings, we all shared lunch together. During the meal, Duke Conrad announced he would host a welcoming banquet for the two of them, to be held two weeks from now.

  I didn’t visit the Mage Tavern that day. Instead, I spent the afternoon absorbed in the books Mara had recommended. By nightfall, my Deep Concentration skill had reached a new rank, and my Brewmaster Class had leveled up to 5.

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